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The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol. I., Part F.

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Title: The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol. I., Part F.

Author: David Hume


        
Release date: September 8, 2006 [eBook #19216]
                Most recently updated: December 2, 2023

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN THREE VOLUMES, VOL. I., PART F. ***




THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND

FROM THE INVASION OF JULIUS CÆSAR

TO THE END OF THE REIGN OF JAMES THE SECOND,


BY DAVID HUME, ESQ.

1688



London: James S. Virtue, City Road and Ivy Lane
New York: 26 John Street
1860

And

Philadelphia:
J. B. Lippincott & Co.
March 17, 1901



In Three Volumes:

VOLUME ONE: The History Of England From The Invasion Of Julius Cæsar To
The End Of The Reign Of James The Second............ By David Hume, Esq.

VOLUME TWO: Continued from the Reign of William and Mary to the Death of
George II........................................... by Tobias Smollett.

VOLUME THREE: From the Accession of George III. to the Twenty-Third Year
of the Reign of Queen Victoria............... by E. Farr and E.H. Nolan.




VOLUME ONE

Part F.

From Charles II. to James II.




CHAPTER LXIII.

[Illustration: 1-756-charles2.jpg  CHARLES II.]




CHARLES II.


{1660.} CHARLES II., when he ascended the throne of his ancestors, was
thirty years of age. He possessed a vigorous constitution, a fine shape,
a manly figure, a graceful air; and though his features were harsh,
yet was his countenance in the main lively and engaging. He was in that
period of life when there remains enough of youth to render the person
amiable, without preventing that authority and regard which attend the
years of experience and maturity. Tenderness was excited by the memory
of his recent adversities. His present prosperity was the object rather
of admiration than of envy. And as the sudden and surprising revolution
which restored him to his regal rights, had also restored the nation to
peace, law, order, and liberty, no prince ever obtained a crown in more
favorable circumstances, or was more blessed with the cordial affection
and attachment of his subjects.

This popularity the king, by his whole demeanor and behavior, was
well qualified to support and to increase. To a lively wit and quick
comprehension, he united a just understanding and a general observation
both of men and things. The easiest manners, the most unaffected
politeness, the most engaging gayety, accompanied his conversation and
address. Accustomed during his exile, to live among his courtiers rather
like a companion than a monarch, he retained, even while on the
throne, that open affability which was capable of reconciling the
most determined republicans to his royal dignity. Totally devoid of
resentment, as well from the natural lenity as carelessness of his
temper, he insured pardon to the most guilty of his enemies, and left
hopes of favor to his most violent opponents. From the whole tenor of
his actions and discourse, he seemed desirous of losing the memory of
past animosities, and of uniting every party in an affection for their
prince and their native country.

Into his council were admitted the most eminent men of the nation,
without regard to former distinctions: the Presbyterians, equally with
the royalists, shared this honor. Annesley was also created earl of
Anglesey; Ashley Cooper, Lord Ashley; Denzil Hollis, Lord Hollis. The
earl of Manchester was appointed lord chamberlain, and Lord Say,
privy seal. Calamy and Baxter, Presbyterian clergymen, were even made
chaplains to the king.

Admiral Montague, created earl of Sandwich, was entitled from his recent
services to great favor; and he obtained it. Monk, created duke of
Albemarle, had performed such signal services, that, according to a
vulgar and malignant observation, he ought rather to have expected
hatred and ingratitude; yet was he ever treated by the king with great
marks of distinction. Charles’s disposition, free from jealousy, and
the prudent behavior of the general, who never overrated his merits,
prevented all those disgusts which naturally arise in so delicate a
situation. The capacity, too, of Albemarle was not extensive, and his
parts were more solid than shining. Though he had distinguished himself
in inferior stations, he was imagined, upon familiar acquaintance, not
to be wholly equal to those great achievements which fortune, united
to prudence, had enabled him to perform; and he appeared unfit for the
court, a scene of life to which he had never been accustomed. Morrice,
his friend, was created secretary of state, and was supported more by
his patron’s credit than by his own abilities or experience.

But the choice which the king at first made of his principal ministers
and favorites, was the circumstance which chiefly gave contentment to
the nation, and prognosticated future happiness and tranquillity.
Sir Edward Hyde, created earl of Clarendon, was chancellor and prime
minister; the marquis, created duke of Ormond, was steward of the
household, the earl of Southampton, high treasurer; Sir Edward Nicholas,
secretary of state. These men, united together in friendship, and
combining in the same laudable inclinations, supported each other’s
credit, and pursued the interests of the public.

Agreeable to the present prosperity of public affairs was the universal
joy and festivity diffused throughout the nation. The melancholy
austerity of the fanatics fell into discredit together with their
principles. The royalists, who had ever affected a contrary disposition,
found in their recent success new motives for mirth and gayety; and it
now belonged to them to give repute and fashion to their manners. From
past experience it had sufficiently appeared, that gravity was very
distinct from wisdom, formality from virtue, and hypocrisy from
religion. The king himself, who bore a strong propensity to pleasure,
served, by his powerful and engaging example, to banish those sour
and malignant humors which had hitherto engendered such confusion. And
though the just bounds were undoubtedly passed, when men returned from
their former extreme, yet was the public happy in exchanging vices
pernicious to society, for disorders hurtful chiefly to the individuals
themselves who were guilty of them.

It required some time before the several parts of the state, disfigured
by war and faction, could recover their former arrangement; but the
parliament immediately fell into good correspondence with the king; and
they treated him with the same dutiful regard which had usually been
paid to his predecessors. Being summoned without the king’s consent,
they received, at first, only the title of a convention; and it was not
till he passed an act for that purpose, that they were called by the
appellation of parliament. All judicial proceedings, transacted in the
name of the commonwealth or protector, were ratified by a new law. And
both houses, acknowledging the guilt of the former rebellion, gratefully
received, in their own name, and in that of all the subjects, his
majesty’s gracious pardon and indemnity.

The king, before his restoration, being afraid of reducing any of his
enemies to despair, and at the same time unwilling that such enormous
crimes as had been committed should receive a total impunity, had
expressed himself very cautiously in his declaration of Breda, and had
promised an indemnity to all criminals, but such as should be excepted
by parliament. He now issued a proclamation declaring that such of the
late king’s judges as did not yield themselves prisoners within
fourteen days, should receive no pardon. Nine teen surrendered
themselves; some were taken in their flight; others escaped beyond sea.

The commons seem to have been more inclined to lenity than the lords.
The upper house, inflamed by the ill usage which they had received, were
resolved, besides the late king’s judges, to except every one who had
sitten in any high court of justice. Nay, the earl of Bristol moved,
that no pardon might be granted to those who had anywise contributed
to the king’s death. So wide an exception, in which every one who had
served the parliament might be comprehended, gave a general alarm; and
men began to apprehend, that this motion was the effect of some court
artifice or intrigue. But the king soon dissipated these fears. He came
to the house of peers, and in the most earnest terms passed the act of
general indemnity. He urged both the necessity of the thing, and the
obligation of his former promise; a promise, he said which he would ever
regard as sacred; since to it he probably owed the satisfaction which at
present he enjoyed of meeting his people in parliament. This measure of
the king’s was received with great applause and satisfaction.

After repeated solicitations, the act of indemnity passed both houses,
and soon received the royal assent. Those who had an immediate hand
in the late king’s death, were there excepted: even Cromwell, Ireton,
Bradshaw, and others now dead, were attainted, and their estates
forfeited. Vane and Lambert, though none of the regicides, were also
excepted. St. John and seventeen persons more were deprived of all
benefit from this act, if they ever accepted any public employment. All
who had sitten in any illegal high court of justice were disabled from
bearing offices. These were all the severities which followed such
furious civil wars and convulsions.

The next business was the settlement of the king’s revenue. In this
work, the parliament had regard to public freedom, as well as to the
support of the crown. The tenures of wards and liveries had long been
regarded as a grievous burden by the nobility and gentry: several
attempts had been made during the reign of James to purchase this
prerogative, together with that of purveyance: and two hundred thousand
pounds a year had been offered that prince in lieu of them; wardships
and purveyance had been utterly abolished by the republican parliament;
and even in the present parliament before the king arrived in England,
a bill had been introduced offering him a compensation for the emolument
of these prerogatives. A hundred thousand pounds a year was the sum
agreed to; and half of the excise was settled in perpetuity upon the
crown as the fund whence this revenue should be levied. Though that
impost yielded more profit, the bargain might be esteemed hard; and it
was chiefly the necessity of the king’s situation which induced him to
consent to it. No request of the parliament, during the present joy,
could be refused them.

Tonnage and poundage and the other half of the excise, were granted to
the king during life. The parliament even proceeded so far as to vote,
that the settled revenue of the crown for all charges should be one
million two hundred thousand pounds a year; a sum greater than any
English monarch had ever before enjoyed. But as all the princes
of Europe were perpetually augmenting their military force, and
consequently their expense, it became requisite that England, from
motives both of honor and security, should bear some proportion to them,
and adapt its revenue to the new system of politics which prevailed.
According to the chancellor’s computation, a charge of eight hundred
thousand pounds a year was at present requisite for the fleet and other
articles, which formerly cost the crown but eighty thousand.

Had the parliament, before restoring the king, insisted on any further
limitations than those which the constitution already imposed, besides
the danger of reviving former quarrels among parties, it would seem that
their precaution had been entirely superfluous. By reason of its slender
and precarious revenue, the crown in effect was still totally dependent.
Not a fourth part of this sum, which seemed requisite for public
expenses, could be levied without consent of parliament; and any
concessions, had they been thought necessary, might, even after the
restoration, be extorted by the commons from their necessitous prince.
This parliament showed no intention of employing at present that engine
to any such purposes; but they seemed still determined not to part
with it entirely, or to render the revenues of the crown fixed and
independent. Though they voted in general, that one million two hundred
thousand pounds a year should be settled on the king, they scarcely
assigned any funds which could yield two thirds of that sum. And
they left the care of fulfilling their engagements to the future
consideration of parliament. In all the temporary supplies which they
voted, they discovered the same cautious frugality. To disband the army,
so formidable in itself, and so much accustomed to rebellion and
changes of government, was necessary for the security both of king and
parliament; yet the commons showed great jealousy in granting the sums
requisite for that end. An assessment of seventy thousand pounds a month
was imposed; but it was at first voted to continue only three months;
and all the other sums which they levied for that purpose, by a
poll-bill and new assessments, were still granted by parcels, as if they
were not as yet well assured of the fidelity of the hand to which the
money was intrusted. Having proceeded so far in the settlement of the
nation, the parliament adjourned itself for some time.

During the recess of parliament, the object which chiefly interested
the public, was the trial and condemnation of the regicides. The general
indignation attending the enormous crime of which these men had been
guilty, made their sufferings the subject of joy to the people: but
in the peculiar circumstances of that action, in the prejudices of the
times, as well as in the behavior of the criminals, a mind seasoned with
humanity will find a plentiful source of compassion and indulgence. Can
any one, without concern for human blindness and ignorance, consider the
demeanor of General Harrison, who was first brought to his trial? With
great courage and elevation of sentiment, he told the court, that the
pretended crime of which he stood accused, was not a deed performed in
a corner; the sound of it had gone forth to most nations; and in
the singular and marvellous conduct of it, had chiefly appeared the
sovereign power of Heaven: that he himself, agitated by doubts, had
often, with passionate tears, offered up his addresses to the divine
Majesty, and earnestly sought for light and conviction: he had still
received assurance of a heavenly sanction, and returned from these
devout supplications with more serene tranquillity and satisfaction:
that all the nations of the earth were, in the eyes of their Creator,
less than a drop of water in the bucket; nor were their erroneous
judgments aught but darkness, compared with divine illuminations: that
these frequent relapses of the divine spirit he could not suspect to
be interested illusions; since he was conscious, that for no temporal
advantage would he offer injury to the poorest man or woman that trod
upon the earth: that all the allurements of ambition, all the terrors
of imprisonment, had not been able, during the usurpation of Cromwell,
to shake his steady resolution, or bend him to a compliance with that
deceitful tyrant: and that when invited by him to sit on the right hand
of the throne, when offered riches and splendor and dominion, he had
disdainfully rejected all temptations; and neglecting the tears of
his friends and family, had still, through every danger, held fast his
principles and his integrity.

Scot, who was more a republican than a fanatic, had said in the house
of commons, a little before the restoration, that he desired no other
epitaph to be inscribed on his tombstone than this: “Here lies Thomas
Scot, who adjudged the king to death.” He supported the same spirit upon
his trial.

Carew, a Millenarian, submitted to his trial, “saving to our Lord Jesus
Christ his right to the government of these kingdoms.” Some scrupled
to say, according to form, that they would be tried by God and their
country; because God was not visibly present to judge them. Others said,
that they would be tried by the word of God.

No more than six of the late king’s judges, Harrison, Scot, Carew,
Clement, Jones, and Scrope, were executed; Scrope alone, of all those
who came in upon the king’s proclamation. He was a gentleman of good
family and of a decent character: but it was proved, that he had a
little before, in conversation, expressed himself as if he were nowise
convinced of any guilt in condemning the king. Axtel, who had guarded
the high court of justice, Hacker, who commanded on the day of the
king’s execution, Coke, the solicitor for the people of England, and
Hugh Peters, the fanatical preacher, who inflamed the army and impelled
them to regicide; all these were tried, and condemned, and suffered with
the king’s judges. No saint or confessor ever went to martyrdom
with more assured confidence of heaven, than was expressed by those
criminals, even when the terrors of immediate death, joined to many
indignities, were set before them. The rest of the king’s judges, by an
unexampled lenity, were reprieved; and they were dispersed into several
prisons.

This punishment of declared enemies interrupted not the rejoicings of
the court: but the death of the duke of Gloucester, a young prince of
promising hopes, threw a great cloud upon them. The king, by no incident
in his life, was ever so deeply affected. Gloucester was observed
to possess united the good qualities of both his brothers: the clear
judgment and penetration of the king; the industry and application
of the duke of York. He was also believed to be affectionate to the
religion and constitution of his country. He was but twenty years of
age, when the small-pox put an end to his life.

The princess of Orange, having come to England in order to partake of
the joy attending the restoration of her family, with whom she lived in
great friendship, soon after sickened and died. The queen mother paid
a visit to her son; and obtained his consent to the marriage of the
princess Henrietta with the duke of Orleans, brother to the French king.

After a recess of near two months, the parliament met, and proceeded
in the great work of the national settlement. They established the
post-office, wine-licenses, and some articles of the revenue. They
granted more assessments, and some arrears for paying and disbanding
the army. Business, being carried on with great unanimity, was soon
despatched; and after they had sitten near two months, the king, in a
speech full of the most gracious expressions, thought proper to dissolve
them.

This house of commons had been chosen during the reign of the old
parliamentary party; and though many royalists had crept in amongst
them, yet did it chiefly consist of Presbyterians, who had not yet
entirely laid aside their old jealousies and principles. Lenthal, a
member, having said, that those who first took arms against the king
were as guilty as those who afterwards brought him to the scaffold, was
severely reprimanded by order of the house; and the most violent
efforts of the long parliament, to secure the constitution, and bring
delinquents to justice, were in effect vindicated and applauded.[*] The
claim of the two houses to the militia, the first ground of the quarrel,
however exorbitant a usurpation, was never expressly resigned by this
parliament. They made all grants of money with a very sparing hand.
Great arrears being due, by the protectors, to the fleet, the army, the
navy office, and every branch of service, this whole debt they threw
upon the crown, without establishing funds sufficient for its payment.
Yet, notwithstanding this jealous care expressed by the parliament,
there prevails a story, that Popham, having sounded the disposition of
the members, undertook to the earl of Southampton to procure, during
the king’s life, a grant of two millions a year, land tax; a sum which,
added to the customs and excise, would forever have rendered this prince
independent of his people.

     * Journals, vol. viii. p. 24

Southampton, it is said, merely from his affection to the king, had
unwarily embraced the offer; and it was not till he communicated the
matter to the chancellor, that he was made sensible of its pernicious
tendency. It is nor improbable, that such an offer might have been made,
and been hearkened to; but it is nowise probable, that all the interest
of the court would ever with this house of commons, have been able
to make it effectual. Clarendon showed his prudence, no less than his
integrity, in entirely rejecting it.

The chancellor, from the same principles of conduct, hastened to disband
the army. When the king reviewed these veteran troops, he was struck
with their beauty, order, discipline, and martial appearance; and being
sensible, that regular forces are most necessary implements of royalty,
he expressed a desire of finding expedients still to retain them.

But his wise minister set before him the dangerous spirit by which
these troops were actuated, their enthusiastic genius, their habits of
rebellion and mutiny; and he convinced the king, that, till they were
disbanded, he never could esteem himself securely established on his
throne. No more troops were retained than a few guards and garrisons,
about one thousand horse and four thousand foot. This was the first
appearance, under the monarchy, of a regular standing army in this
island. Lord Mordaunt said, that the king, being possessed of that
force, might now look upon himself as the most considerable gentleman in
England.[*] The fortifications of Gloucester, Taunton, and other towns,
which had made resistance to the king during the civil wars, were
demolished.

     * King James’s Memoirs. This prince says, that Vernier’s
     insurrection furnished a reason or pretence for keeping up
     the guards, which were intended at first to have been
     disbanded with the rest of the army.

Clarendon not only behaved with wisdom and justice in the office of
chancellor; all the counsels which he gave the king tended equally to
promote the interest of prince and people. Charles, accustomed in his
exile to pay entire deference to the judgment of this faithful servant,
continued still to submit to his direction; and for some time no
minister was ever possessed of more absolute authority. He moderated the
forward zeal of the royalists, and tempered their appetite for revenge.
With the opposite party, he endeavored to preserve inviolate all the
king’s engagements: he kept an exact register of the promises which had
been made for any service, he employed all his industry to fulfil
them. This good minister was now nearly allied to the royal family.
His daughter, Ann Hyde, a woman of spirit and fine accomplishments, had
hearkened, while abroad, to the addresses of the duke of York, and under
promise of marriage, had secretly admitted him to her bed. Her pregnancy
appeared soon after the restoration; and though many endeavored to
dissuade the king from consenting to so unequal an alliance, Charles,
in pity to his friend and minister, who had been ignorant of these
engagements, permitted his brother to marry her.[*] Clarendon expressed
great uneasiness at the honor which he had obtained; and said that, by
being elevated so much above his rank, he thence dreaded a more sudden
downfall.

     * King James’s Memoirs.

Most circumstances of Clarendon’s administration have met with applause:
his maxims alone in the conduct of ecclesiastical politics have by
many been deemed the effect of prejudices narrow and bigoted. Had the
jealousy of royal power prevailed so far with the convention parliament
as to make them restore the king with strict limitations, there is no
question but the establishment of Presbyterian discipline had been
one of the conditions most rigidly insisted on. Not only that form of
ecclesiastical government is more favorable to liberty than to royal
power; it was likewise, on its own account, agreeable to the majority of
the house of commons, and suited their religious principles. But as
the impatience of the people, the danger of delay, the general disgust
towards faction, and the authority of Monk, had prevailed over that
jealous project of limitations, the full settlement of the hierarchy,
together with the monarchy, was a necessary and infallible consequence.
All the royalists were zealous for that mode of religion; the merits of
the Episcopal clergy towards the king, as well as their sufferings on
that account, had been great; the laws which established bishops and the
liturgy, were as yet unrepealed by legal authority; and any attempt of
the parliament, by new acts, to give the superiority to Presbyterianism,
had been sufficient to involve the nation again in blood and confusion.
Moved by these views, the commons had wisely postponed the examination
of all religious controversy, and had left the settlement of the church
to the king and to the ancient laws.

The king at first used great moderation in the execution of the laws.
Nine bishops still remained alive; and these were immediately restored
to their sees: all the ejected clergy recovered their livings: the
liturgy, a form of worship decent, and not without beauty, was again
admitted into the churches: but at the same time a declaration was
issued, in order to give contentment to the Presbyterians, and preserve
an air of moderation and neutrality.[*] In this declaration, the
king promised, that he would provide suffragan bishops for the larger
dioceses; that the prelates should, all of them, be regular and constant
preachers; that they should not confer ordination, or exercise any
jurisdiction, without the advice and assistance of presbyters chosen
by the diocese; that such alterations should be made in the liturgy as
would render it totally unexceptionable; that, in the mean time, the use
of that mode of worship should not be imposed on such as were unwilling
to receive it; and that the surplice, the cross in baptism, and
bowing at the name of Jesus, should not be rigidly insisted on. This
declaration was issued by the king as head of the church; and he plainly
assumed, in many parts of it, a legislative authority in ecclesiastical
matters. But the English government, though more exactly defined by
late contests, was not as yet reduced in every particular to the strict
limits of law. And if ever pre-rogative was justifiably employed, it
seemed to be on the present occasion; when all parts of the state were
torn with past convulsions, and required the moderating hand of the
chief magistrate to reduce them to their ancient order.

     * Parl. Hist vol. xxiii. p. 173

But though these appearances of neutrality were maintained, and a
mitigated Episcopacy only seemed to be insisted on, it was far from
the intention of the ministry always to preserve like regard to the
Presbyterians. The madness of the Fifth Monarchy men afforded them a
pretence for departing from it. Venner, a desperate enthusiast, who
had often conspired against Cromwell, having, by his zealous lectures
inflamed his own imagination and that of his followers, issued forth
at their head into the streets of London. They were, to the number
of sixty, completely armed, believed themselves invulnerable and
invincible, and firmly expected the same success which had attended
Gideon and other heroes of the Old Testament Every one at first fled
before them. One unhappy man, who, being questioned, said, “he was
for God and King Charles,” was instantly murdered by them. They went
triumphantly from street to street, every where proclaiming King Jesus,
who, they said, was their invisible leader. At length, the magistrates,
having assembled some train bands, made an attack upon them. They
defended themselves with order as well as valor; and after killing
many of the assailants they made a regular retreat into Cane Wood, near
Hampstead. Next morning, they were chased thence by a detachment of
the guards; but they ventured again to invade the city, which was
not prepared to receive them. After committing great disorder, and
traversing almost every street of that immense capital, they retired
into a house, which they were resolute to defend to the last extremity.
Being surrounded, and the house untiled, they were fired upon from every
side; and they still refused quarter. The people rushed in upon them,
and seized the few who were alive. These were tried, condemned, and
executed; and to the last they persisted in affirming, that, if they
were deceived, it was the Lord that had deceived them.

Clarendon and the ministry took occasion, from this insurrection,
to infer the dangerous spirit of the Presbyterians, and of all the
sectaries: but the madness of the attempt sufficiently proved, that
it had been undertaken by no concert, and never could have proved
dangerous. The well-known hatred, too, which prevailed between the
Presbyterians and the other sects, should have removed the former from
all suspicion of any concurrence in the enterprise. But as a pretence
was wanted, besides their old demerits, for justifying the intended
rigors against all of them, this reason, however slight, was greedily
laid hold of.

Affairs in Scotland hastened with still quicker steps then those in
England towards a settlement and a compliance with the king. It was
deliberated in the English council, whether that nation should be
restored to its liberty, or whether the forts erected by Cromwell should
not still be upheld, in order to curb the mutinous spirit by which the
Scots in all ages had been so much governed. Lauderdale, who, from the
battle of Worcester to the restoration, had been detained prisoner in
the Tower, had considerable influence with the king; and he strenuously
opposed this violent measure. He represented that it was the loyalty
of the Scottish nation which had engaged them in an opposition to the
English rebels; and to take advantage of the calamities into which,
on that account, they had fallen, would be regarded as the highest
injustice and ingratitude: that the spirit of that people was now fully
subdued by the servitude under which the usurpers had so long held them,
and would of itself yield to any reasonable compliance with their
legal sovereign, if, by this means, they recovered their liberty and
independence: that the attachment of the Scots towards their king, whom
they regarded as their native prince, was naturally much stronger than
that of the English; and would afford him a sure resource, in case of
any rebellion among the latter: that republican principles had long
been, and still were, very prevalent with his southern subjects, and
might again menace the throne with new tumults and resistance: that
the time would probably come, when the king, instead of desiring to see
English garrisons in Scotland, would be better pleased to have Scottish
garrisons in England; who, supported by English pay, would be fond to
curb the seditious genius of that opulent nation: and that a people,
such as the Scots, governed by a few nobility, would more easily be
reduced to submission under monarchy, than one like the English, who
breathed nothing but the spirit of democratical equality.

{1661.} These views induced the king to disband all the forces in
Scotland, and to raze all the forts which had been erected. General
Middleton, created earl of that name, was sent commissioner to the
parliament, which was summoned. A very compliant spirit was there
discovered in all orders of men. The commissioner had even sufficient
influence to obtain an act, annulling at once all laws which had passed
since the year 1633; on pretext of the violence which, during that time,
had been employed against the king and his father, in order to procure
their assent to these statutes. This was a very large, if not an
unexampled concession; and, together with many dangerous limitations,
overthrew some useful barriers which had been erected to the
constitution. But the tide was now running strongly towards monarchy;
and the Scottish nation plainly discovered, that their past resistance
had proceeded more from the turbulence of their aristocracy, and the
bigotry of their ecclesiastics, than from any fixed passion towards
civil liberty. The lords of articles were restored, with some other
branches of prerogative; and royal authority fortified with more
plausible claims and pretences, was, in its full extent, reestablished
in that kingdom.

The prelacy likewise, by the abrogating of every statute enacted
in favor of Presbytery, was thereby tacitly restored; and the king
deliberated what use he should make of this concession. Lauderdale,
who at bottom was a passionate zealot against Episcopacy, endeavored
to persuade him, that the Scots, if gratified in this favorite point
of ecclesiastical government, would, in every other demand, be entirely
compliant with the king. Charles, though he had not so much attachment
to prelacy as had influenced his father and grandfather, had suffered
such indignities from the Scottish Presbyterians, that he ever
after bore them a hearty aversion. He said to Lauderdale, that
Presbyterianism, he thought, was not a religion for a gentleman; and he
could not consent to its further continuance in Scotland. Middleton too
and his other ministers persuaded him, that the nation in general was so
disgusted with the violence and tyranny of the ecclesiastics, that
any alteration of church government would be universally grateful. And
Clarendon, as well as Ormond, dreading that the Presbyterian sect, if
legally established in Scotland, would acquire authority in England and
Ireland, seconded the application of these ministers. The resolution was
therefore taken to restore prelacy; a measure afterwards attended with
many and great inconveniencies: but whether in this resolution Charles
chose not the lesser evil, it is very difficult to determine. Sharp, who
had been commissioned by the Presbyterians in Scotland to manage their
interests with the king, was persuaded to abandon that party; and, as
a reward for his compliance, was created archbishop of St. Andrews. The
conduct of ecclesiastical affairs was chiefly intrusted to him; and as
he was esteemed a traitor and a renegade by his old friends, he became
on that account, as well as from the violence of his conduct, extremely
obnoxious to them.

Charles had not promised to Scotland any such indemnity as he had
insured to England by the declaration of Breda: and it was deemed more
political for him to hold over men’s heads, for some time, the terror
of punishment, till they should have made the requisite compliances
with the new government. Though neither the king’s temper nor plan of
administration led him to severity, some examples, after such a bloody
and triumphant rebellion, seemed necessary; and the marquis of Argyle
and one Guthry were pitched on as the victims. Two acts of indemnity,
one passed by the late king in 1641, another by the present in 1651,
formed, it was thought, invincible obstacles to the punishment of
Argyle, and barred all inquiry into that part of his conduct which might
justly be regarded as the most exceptionable. Nothing remained but to
try him for his compliance with the usurpation; a crime common to him
with the whole nation, and such a one as the most loyal and affectionate
subject might frequently by violence be obliged to commit. To make this
compliance appear the more voluntary and hearty, there were produced
in court letters which he had written to Albemarle, while that general
commanded in Scotland, and which contained expressions of the most
cordial attachment to the established government. But besides the
general indignation excited by Albemarle’s discovery of this private
correspondence, men thought, that even the highest demonstrations of
affection might, during jealous times, be exacted as a necessary mark of
compliance from a person of such distinction as Argyle, and could
not, by any equitable construction, imply the crime of treason. The
parliament, however, scrupled not to pass sentence upon him; and he died
with great constancy and courage. As he was universally known to have
been the chief instrument of the past disorders and civil wars, the
irregularity of his sentence, and several iniquitous circumstances in
the method of conducting his trial, seemed on that account to admit
of some apology. Lord Lorne, son of Argyle, having ever preserved his
loyalty, obtained a gift of the forfeiture. Guthry was a seditious
preacher, and had personally affronted the king: his punishment gave
surprise to nobody. Sir Archibald Johnstone of Warriston was attainted
and fled; but was seized in France about two years after, brought over,
and executed. He had been very active during all the late disorders;
and was even suspected of a secret correspondence with the English
regicides.

Besides these instances of compliance in the Scottish parliament, they
voted an additional revenue to the king of forty thousand pounds a
year, to be levied by way of excise. A small force was purposed to be
maintained by this revenue, in order to prevent like confusions with
those to which the kingdom had been hitherto exposed. An act was also
passed, declaring the covenant unlawful, and its obligation void and
null.

In England, the civil distinctions seemed to be abolished by the lenity
and equality of Charles’s administration. Cavalier and roundhead were
heard of no more: all men seemed to concur in submitting to the king’s
lawful prerogatives, and in cherishing he just privileges of the people
and of parliament. Theological controversy alone still subsisted, and
kept alive some sparks of that flame which had thrown the nation into
combustion. While Catholics, Independents, and other sectaries were
content with entertaining some prospect of toleration, Prelacy and
Presbytery struggled for the superiority, and the hopes and fears of
both parties kept them in agitation. A conference was held in the
Savoy between twelve bishops and twelve leaders among the Presbyterian
ministers, with an intention, at least on pretence, of bringing about an
accommodation between the parties. The surplice, the cross in baptism,
the kneeling at the sacrament, the bowing at the name of Jesus, were
anew canvassed; and the ignorant multitude were in hopes, that so
many men of gravity and learning could not fail, after deliberate
argumentation, to agree in all points of controversy: they were
surprised to see them separate more inflamed than ever, and more
confirmed in their several prejudices. To enter into particulars would
be superfluous. Disputes concerning religious forms are, in themselves,
the most frivolous of any; and merit attention only so far as they have
influence on the peace and order of civil society.

The king’s declaration had promised, that some endeavors should be
used to effect a comprehension of both parties; and Charles’s own
indifference with regard to all such questions seemed a favorable
circumstance for the execution of that project. The partisans of a
comprehension said, that the Presbyterians, as well as the Prelatists,
having felt by experience the fatal effects of obstinacy and violence,
were now well disposed towards an amicable agreement: that the bishops,
by relinquishing some part of their authority, and dispensing with the
most exceptionable ceremonies, would so gratify their adversaries as to
obtain their cordial and affectionate compliance, and unite the whole
nation in one faith and one worship: that by obstinately insisting on
forms, in themselves insignificant, an air of importance was bestowed
on them, and men were taught to continue equally obstinate in rejecting
them: that the Presbyterian clergy would go every reasonable length,
rather than, by parting with their livings, expose themselves to a
state of beggary, at best of dependence: and that if their pride were
flattered by some seeming alterations, and a pretence given them for
affirming that they had not abandoned their former principles, nothing
further was wanting to produce a thorough union between those two
parties, which comprehended the bulk of the nation.

It was alleged, on the other hand, that the difference between religious
sects was founded, not on principle, but on passion; and till the
irregular affections of men could be corrected, it was in vain to
expect, by compliances, to obtain a perfect unanimity and comprehension:
that the more insignificant the objects of dispute appeared, with the
more certainty might it be inferred, that the real ground of dissension
was different from that which was universally pretended: that the
love of novelty, the pride of argumentation, the pleasure of making
proselytes, and the obstinacy of contradiction, would forever give
rise to sects and disputes; nor was it possible that such a source of
dissension could ever, by any concessions, be entirely exhausted: that
the church, by departing from ancient practices and principles, would
tacitly acknowledge herself guilty of error, and lose that reverence,
so requisite for preserving the attachment of the multitude; and that
if the present concessions (which was more than probable) should prove
ineffectual, greater must still be made; and in the issue discipline
would be despoiled of all its authority, and worship of all its decency,
without obtaining that end which had been so fondly sought for by these
dangerous indulgences.

The ministry were inclined to give the preference to the latter
arguments; and were the more confirmed in that intention by the
disposition which appeared in the parliament lately assembled. The
royalists and zealous churchmen were at present the popular party in the
nation, and, seconded by the efforts of the court, had prevailed in most
elections. Not more than fifty-six members of the Presbyterian party had
obtained seats in the lower house; [*] and these were not able either to
oppose or retard the measures of the majority. Monarchy, therefore, and
Episcopacy, were now exalted to as great power and splendor as they
had lately suffered misery and depression. Sir Edward Turner was chosen
speaker.

     [*] Carte’s Answer to the Bystander, p. 79.

An act was passed for the security of the king’s person and government.
To intend or devise the king’s imprisonment, or bodily harm, or
deposition, or levying war against him, was declared, during the
lifetime of his present majesty, to be high treason. To affirm him to be
a Papist or heretic, or to endeavor by speech or writing to alienate his
subjects’ affections from him; these offences were made sufficient to
incapacitate the person guilty from holding any employment in church or
state. To maintain that the long parliament is not dissolved, or that
either or both houses, without the king, are possessed of legislative
authority, or that the covenant is binding, was made punishable by the
penalty of premunire.

The covenant itself, together with the act for erecting the high court
of justice, that for subscribing the engagement, and that for declaring
England a commonwealth, were ordered to be burnt by the hands of the
hangman. The people assisted with great alacrity on this occasion.

The abuses of petitioning in the preceding reign had been attended with
the worst consequences; and to prevent such irregular practices for the
future, it was enacted that no more than twenty hands should be fixed to
any petition, unless with the sanction of three justices, or the major
part of the grand jury, and that no petition should be presented to
the king or either house by above ten persons. The penalty annexed to
a transgression of this law was a fine of a hundred pounds and three
months’ imprisonment.

The bishops, though restored to their spiritual authority, were still
excluded from parliament, by the law which the late king had passed
immediately before the commencement of the civil disorders. Great
violence, both against the king and the house of peers, had been
employed in passing this law; and on that account alone the partisans
of the church were provided with a plausible pretence for repealing it.
Charles expressed much satisfaction when he gave his assent to the act
for that purpose. It is certain that the authority of the crown, as well
as that of the church, was interested in restoring the prelates to their
former dignity. But those who deemed every acquisition of the prince
a detriment to the people, were apt to complain of this instance of
complaisance in the parliament.

After an adjournment of some months, the parliament was again assembled,
and proceeded in the same spirit as before. They discovered no design
of restoring, in its full extent, the ancient prerogative of the crown:
they were only anxious to repair all those breaches which had been made,
not by the love of liberty, but by the fury of faction and civil war.
The power of the sword had in all ages been allowed to be vested in the
crown; and though no law conferred this prerogative every parliament,
till the last of the preceding reign, had willingly submitted to an
authority more ancient, and therefore more sacred, than that of any
positive statute. It was now thought proper solemnly to relinquish the
violent pretensions of that parliament, and to acknowledge that neither
one house nor both houses, independent of the king, were possessed of
any military authority. The preamble to this statute went so far as to
renounce all right even of defensive arms against the king; and much
observation has been made with regard to a concession esteemed so
singular. Were these terms taken in their full literal sense, they imply
a total renunciation of limitations to monarchy, and of all privileges
in the subject, independent of the will of the sovereign. For as no
rights can subsist without some remedy, still less rights exposed to
so much invasion from tyranny, or even from ambition; if subjects must
never resist, it follows that every prince, without any effort, policy,
or violence, is at once rendered absolute and uncontrollable; the
sovereign needs only issue an edict abolishing every authority but his
own; and all liberty from that moment is in effect annihilated. But this
meaning it were absurd to impute to the present parliament, who, though
zealous royalists, showed in their measures that they had not cast off
all regard to national privileges. They were probably sensible, that
to suppose in the sovereign any such invasion of public liberty, is
entirely unconstitutional; and that therefore expressly to reserve, upon
that event, any right of resistance in the subject, must be liable to
the same objection. They had seen that the long parliament, under color
of defence, had begun a violent attack upon kingly power; and after
involving the kingdom in blood, had finally lost that liberty for which
they had so imprudently contended. They thought, perhaps erroneously,
that it was no longer possible, after such public and such exorbitant
pretensions, to persevere in that prudent silence hitherto maintained
by the laws; and that it was necessary, by some positive declaration, to
bar the return of like inconveniencies. When they excluded, therefore,
the right of defence, they supposed that the constitution, remaining
firm upon its basis, there never really could be an attack made by the
sovereign. If such an attack was at any time made, the necessity was
then extreme; and the case of extreme and violent necessity, no laws,
they thought, could comprehend; because to such a necessity no laws
could beforehand point out a proper remedy.

The other measures of this parliament still discovered a more anxious
care to guard against rebellion in the subject than encroachments in
the crown; the recent evils of civil war and usurpation had naturally
increased the spirit of submission to the monarch, and had thrown the
nation into that dangerous extreme. During the violent and jealous
government of the parliament and of the protectors, all magistrates
liable to suspicion had been expelled the corporations; and none had
been admitted who gave not proofs of affection to the ruling powers, or
who refused to subscribe the covenant. To leave all authority in such
hands seemed dangerous; and the parliament therefore empowered the king
to appoint commissioners for regulating the corporations, and expelling
such magistrates as either intruded themselves by violence, or professed
principles dangerous to the constitution, civil and ecclesiastical. It
was also enacted, that all magistrates should disclaim the obligation
of the covenant, and should declare both their belief that it was not
lawful, upon any pretence whatsoever, to resist the king, and their
abhorrence of the traitorous position of taking arms by the king’s
authority against his person, or against those who were commissioned by
him.

{1662.} The care of the church was no less attended to by this
parliament than that of monarchy; and the bill of uniformity was a
pledge of their sincere attachment to the Episcopal hierarchy, and
of their antipathy to Presbyterianism, Different parties, however,
concurred in promoting this bill, which contained many severe clauses.
The Independents and other sectaries, enraged to find all their schemes
subverted by the Presbyterians, who had once been their associates,
exerted themselves to disappoint that party of the favor and indulgence
to which, from their recent merits in promoting the restoration, they
thought themselves justly entitled. By the Presbyterians, said they, the
war was raised; by them was the populace first incited to tumults; by
their zeal, interest, and riches, were the armies supported; by their
force was the king subdued; and if, in the sequel, they protested
against those extreme violences committed on his person by the military
leaders, their opposition came too late, after having supplied these
usurpers with the power and the pretences by which they maintained their
sanguinary measures. They had indeed concurred with the royalists in
recalling the king; but ought they to be esteemed, on that account, more
affectionate to the royal cause? Rage and animosity, from disappointed
ambition, were plainly their sole motives; and if the king should now
be so imprudent as to distinguish them by any particular indulgences, he
would soon experience from them the same hatred and opposition which had
proved so fatal to his father.

The Catholics, though they had little interest in the nation, were a
considerable party at court; and from their services and sufferings
during the civil wars, it seemed but just to bear them some favor
and regard. These religionists dreaded an entire union among the
Protestants. Were they the sole nonconformists in the nation, the
severe execution of penal laws upon their sect seemed an infallible
consequence; and they used, therefore, all their interest to push
matters to extremity against the Presbyterians, who had formerly been
their most severe oppressors, and whom they now expected for their
companions in affliction. The earl of Bristol, who, from conviction, or
interest, or levity, or complaisance for the company with whom he lived,
had changed his religion during the king’s exile, was regarded as the
head of this party.

The church party had, during so many years, suffered such injuries
and indignities from the sectaries of every denomination, that no
moderation, much less deference, was on this occasion to be expected in
the ecclesiastics. Even the laity of that communion seemed now disposed
to retaliate upon their enemies, according to the usual measures of
party justice. This sect or faction (for it partook of both) encouraged
the rumors of plots and conspiracies against the government; crimes
which, without any apparent reason, they imputed to their adversaries.
And instead of enlarging the terms of communion, in order to comprehend
the Presbyterians, they gladly laid hold of the prejudices which
prevailed among that sect, in order to eject them from their livings. By
the bill of uniformity, it was required, that every clergyman should be
reordained, if he had not before received Episcopal ordination; should
declare his assent to every thing contained in the Book of Common
Prayer; should take the oath of canonical obedience; should abjure the
solemn league, and covenant; and should renounce the principle of taking
arms on any pretence whatsoever against the king.

This bill reinstated the church in the same condition in which it stood
before the commencement of the civil wars; and as the old persecuting
laws of Elizabeth still subsisted in their full rigor, and new clauses
of a like nature were now enacted, all the king’s promises of toleration
and of indulgence to tender consciences were thereby eluded and broken.
It is true, Charles, in his declaration from Breda, had expressed his
intention of regulating that indulgence by the advice and authority of
parliament; but this limitation could never reasonably be extended to
a total infringement and violation of his engagements. However, it
is agreed that the king did not voluntarily concur with this violent
measure; and that the zeal of Clarendon and of the church party among
the commons, seconded by the intrigues of the Catholics, was the chief
cause which extorted his consent.

The royalists, who now predominated, were very ready to signalize their
victory, by establishing those high principles of monarchy which their
antagonists had controverted: but when any real power or revenue was
demanded for the crown, they were neither so forward nor so liberal
in their concessions as the king would gladly have wished. Though the
parliament passed laws for regulating the navy, they took no notice
of the army, and declined giving their sanction to this dangerous
innovation. The king’s debts were become intolerable; and the commons
were at last constrained to vote him an extraordinary supply of one
million two hundred thousand pounds, to be levied by eighteen monthly
assessments. But besides that this supply was much inferior to the
occasion, the king was obliged earnestly to solicit the commons, before
he could obtain it; and, in order to convince the house of its absolute
necessity, he desired them to examine strictly into all his receipts
and disbursements. Finding, likewise, upon inquiry, that the several
branches of revenue fell much short of the sums expected, they at
last, after much delay, voted a new imposition of two shillings on each
hearth; and this tax they settled on the king during life. The
whole established revenue, however, did not for many years exceed a
million;[*] a sum confessedly too narrow for the public expenses. A very
rigid frugality at least, which the king seems to have wanted, would
have been requisite to make it suffice for the dignity and security
of government. After all business was despatched, the parliament was
prorogued.

     * D’Estrades, July 25, 1661. Mr. Ralph’s History, vol. i. p.
     176.

Before the parliament rose, the court was employed in making
preparations for the reception of the new queen, Catharine of Portugal,
to whom the king was betrothed, and who had just landed at Portsmouth.
During the time that the protector carried on the war with Spain, he was
naturally led to support the Portuguese in their revolt; and he engaged
himself by treaty to supply them with ten thousand men for their defence
against the Spaniards. On the king’s restoration, advances were made
by Portugal for the renewal of the alliance; and in order to bind the
friendship closer, an offer was made of the Portuguese princess, and a
portion of five hundred thousand pounds, together with two fortresses,
Tangiers in Africa, and Bombay in the East Indies. Spain, who, after the
peace of the Pyrenees, bent all her force to recover Portugal, now in
appearance abandoned by France, took the alarm, and endeavored to fix
Charles in an opposite interest The Catholic king offered to adopt any
other princess as a daughter of Spain, either the princess of Parma, or,
what he thought more popular, some Protestant princess, the daughter of
Denmark, Saxony, or Orange; and on any of these he promised to confer
a dowry equal to that which was offered by Portugal. But many reasons
inclined Charles rather to accept of the Portuguese proposals. The great
disorders in the government and finances of Spain made the execution of
her promises be much doubted; and the king’s urgent necessities demanded
some immediate supply of money. The interest of the English commerce
likewise seemed to require that the independency of Portugal should be
supported, lest the union of that crown with Spain should put the whole
treasures of America into the hands of one potentate. The claims, too,
of Spain upon Dunkirk and Jamaica, rendered it impossible, without
further concessions, to obtain the cordial friendship of that power; and
on the other hand, the offer, made by Portugal, of two such considerable
fortresses, promised a great accession to the naval force of England.
Above all, the proposal of a Protestant princess was no allurement to
Charles, whose inclinations led him strongly to give the preference to
a Catholic alliance. According to the most probable accounts,[*] the
resolution of marrying the daughter of Portugal was taken by the king,
unknown to all his ministers, and no remonstrances could prevail with
him to alter his intentions.

     * Carte’s Ormond, vol. ii. p. 254. This account seems better
     supported than that in Ablancourt’s Memoirs, that the
     chancellor chiefly pushed the Portuguese alliance. The
     secret transactions of the court of England could not be
     supposed to be much known to a French resident at Lisbon:
     and whatever opposition the chancellor might make, he would
     certainly endeavor to conceal it from the queen and all her
     family; and even in the parliament and council would support
     the resolution already taken. Clarendon himself says, in his
     Memoirs, that he never either opposed or promoted the
     Portuguese match.

When the matter was laid before the council, all voices concurred
in approving the resolution; and the parliament expressed the same
complaisance. And thus was concluded, seemingly with universal consent,
the inauspicious marriage with Catharine, a princess of virtue, but who
was never able, either by the graces of her person or humor, to make
herself agreeable to the king. The report, however, of her natural
incapacity to have children, seems to have been groundless, since she
was twice declared to be pregnant.[*]

     * Lord Lansdowne’s Defence of General Monk. Temple vol. ii
     p. 154

The festivity of these espousals was clouded by the trial and execution
of criminals. Berkstead, Cobbet, and Okey, three regicides, had escaped
beyond sea; and after wandering some time concealed in Germany, came
privately to Delft, having appointed their families to meet them in that
place. They were discovered by Downing, the king’s resident in Holland,
who had formerly served the protector and commonwealth in the same
station, and who once had even been chaplain to Okey’s regiment. He
applied for a warrant to arrest them. It had been usual for the states
to grant these warrants; though at the same time, they had ever been
careful secretly to advertise the persons, that they might be enabled
to make their escape. This precaution was eluded by the vigilance and
despatch of Downing. He quickly seized the criminals, hurried them on
board a frigate which lay off the coast, and sent them to England. These
three men behaved with more moderation and submission than any of the
other regicides who had suffered. Okey in particular, at the place of
execution, prayed for the king, and expressed his intention, had he
lived, of submitting peaceably to the established government. He had
risen, during the wars, from being a chandler in London, to a high rank
in the army; and in all his conduct appeared to be a man of humanity
and honor. In consideration of his good character and of his dutiful
behavior, his body was given to his friends to be buried.

The attention of the public was much engaged by the trial of two
distinguished criminals, Lambert and Vane. These men, though none of the
late king’s judges, had been excepted from the general indemnity,
and committed to prison. The convention parliament, however, was so
favorable to them, as to petition the king, if they should be found
guilty, to suspend their execution: but this new parliament, more
zealous for monarchy, applied for their trial and condemnation. Not to
revive disputes which were better buried in oblivion, the indictment of
Vane did not comprehend any of his actions during the war between the
king and parliament: it extended only to his behavior after the late
king’s death, as member of the council of state, and secretary of the
navy, where fidelity to the trust reposed in him required his opposition
to monarchy.

Vane wanted neither courage nor capacity to avail himself of this
advantage. He urged that, if a compliance with the government at that
time established in England, and the acknowledging of its authority,
were to be regarded as criminal, the whole nation had incurred equal
guilt, and none would remain whose innocence could entitle them to try
or condemn him for his pretended treasons: that, according to these
maxims, wherever an illegal authority was established by force, a total
and universal destruction must ensue; while the usurpers proscribed
one part of the nation for disobedience, the lawful prince punished the
other for compliance: that the legislature of England, foreseeing
this violent situation, had provided for public security by the famous
statute of Henry VII.; in which it was enacted that no man, in case of
any revolution, should ever be questioned for his obedience to the king
in being: that whether the established government were a monarchy or a
commonwealth, the reason of the thing was still the same; nor ought the
expelled prince to think himself entitled to allegiance, so long as he
could not afford protection: that it belonged not to private persons,
possessed of no power, to discuss the title of their governors;
and every usurpation, even the most flagrant, would equally require
obedience with the most legal establishment: that the controversy
between the late king and his parliament was of the most delicate
nature; and men of the greatest probity had been divided in their choice
of the party which they should embrace; that the parliament, being
rendered indissoluble but by its own consent, was become a kind of
coördinate power with the king; and as the case was thus entirely new
and unknown to the constitution, it ought not to be tried rigidly by the
letter of the ancient laws: that for his part, all the violences which
had been put upon the parliament, and upon the person of the sovereign,
he had ever condemned; nor had he once in the house for some time before
and after the execution of the king: that, finding the whole government
thrown into disorder, he was still resolved, in every revolution,
to adhere to the commons, the root, the foundation, of all lawful
authority: that in prosecution of this principle, he had cheerfully
under gone all the violence of Cromwell’s tyranny; and would now with
equal alacrity, expose himself to the rigors of perverted law and
justice: that though it was in his power, on the king’s restoration, to
have escaped from his enemies, he was determined, in imitation of the
most illustrious names of antiquity, to perish in defence of liberty,
and to give testimony with his blood for that honorable cause in which
he had been enlisted; and that, besides the ties by which God and nature
had bound him to his native country, he was voluntarily engaged by the
most sacred covenant, whose obligation no earthly power should ever be
able to make him relinquish.

All the defence which Vane could make was fruitless. The court,
considering more the general opinion of his active guilt in the
beginning and prosecution of the civil wars, than the articles of
treason charged against him, took advantage of the letter of the
law, and brought him in guilty. His courage deserted him not upon his
condemnation. Though timid by nature, the persuasion of a just cause
supported him against the terrors of death, while his enthusiasm,
excited by the prospect of glory, embellished the conclusion of a life,
which through the whole course of it, had been so much disfigured by the
prevalence of that principle. Lest pity for a courageous sufferer
should make impression on the populace, drummers were placed under the
scaffold, whose noise, as he began to launch out in reflections on the
government, drowned his voice, and admonished him to temper the ardor of
his zeal. He was not astonished at this unexpected incident. In all
his behavior there appeared a firm and animated intrepidity; and he
considered death but as a passage to that eternal felicity which he
believed to be prepared for him.

This man, so celebrated for his parliamentary talents, and for his
capacity in business, has left some writings behind him: they treat, all
of them, of religious subjects, and are absolutely unintelligible: no
traces of eloquence, or even of common sense, appear in them. A strange
paradox! did we not know, that men of the greatest genius, where they
relinquish by principle the use of their reason, are only enabled,
by their vigor of mind, to work themselves the deeper into error and
absurdity. It was remarkable, that as Vane, by being the chief
instrument of Strafford’s death, had first opened the way for that
destruction which overwhelmed the nation, so by his death he closed the
scene of blood. He was the last that suffered on account of the civil
wars. Lambert, though condemned, was reprieved at the bar; and the
judges declared, that if Vane’s behavior had been equally dutiful and
submissive, he would have experienced like lenity in the king. Lambert
survived his condemnation near thirty years. He was confined to the Isle
of Guernsey, where he lived contented, forgetting all his past schemes
of greatness, and entirely forgotten by the nation. He died a Roman
Catholic.

However odious Vane and Lambert were to the Presbyterians, that
party had no leisure to rejoice at their condemnation. The fatal St.
Bartholomew approached; the day when the clergy were obliged, by the
late law, either to relinquish their livings, or to sign the articles
required of them. A combination had been entered into by the more
zealous of the Presbyterian ecclesiastics to refuse the subscription,
in hopes that the bishops would not venture at once to expel so great a
number of the most popular preachers. The Catholic party at court, who
desired a great rent among the Protestants, encouraged them in this
obstinacy, and gave them hopes that the king would protect them in
their refusal. The king himself, by his irresolute conduct, contributed,
either from design or accident, to increase this opinion. Above all,
the terms of subscription had been made strict and rigid, on purpose
to disgust all the zealous and scrupulous among the Presbyterians, and
deprive them of their livings. About two thousand of the clergy, in one
day, relinquished their cures; and, to the astonishment of the court,
sacrificed their interest to their religious tenets. Fortified
by society in their sufferings, they were resolved to undergo any
hardships, rather than openly renounce those principles, which, on other
occasions, they were so apt, from interest, to warp or elude. The church
enjoyed the pleasure of retaliation; and even pushed, as usual,
the vengeance farther than the offence. During the dominion of the
parliamentary party, a fifth of each living had been left to the ejected
clergyman; but this indulgence, though at first insisted on by the house
of peers, was now refused to the Presbyterians. However difficult to
conciliate peace among theologians, it was hoped by many, that some
relaxation in the terms of communion might have kept the Presbyterians
united to the church, and have cured those ecclesiastical factions which
had been so fatal, and were still so dangerous. Bishoprics were offered
to Calamy, Baxter, and Reynolds, leaders among the Presbyterians:
the last only could be prevailed on to accept. Deaneries and other
preferments were refused by many.

The next measure of the king has not had the good fortune to be
justified by any party, but is often considered, on what grounds I shall
not determine, as one of the greatest mistakes, if not blemishes, of his
reign. It is the sale of Dunkirk to the French. The parsimonious maxims
of the parliament, and the liberal, or rather careless disposition of
Charles, were ill suited to each other; and notwithstanding the supplies
voted him, his treasury was still very empty and very much indebted. He
had secretly received the sum of two hundred thousand crowns from France
for the support of Portugal, but the forces sent over to that country,
and the fleets maintained in order to defend it, had already cost the
king that sum, and, together with it, near double the money which had
been paid as the queen’s portion.[*] The time fixed for payment of his
sister’s portion to the duke of Orleans was approaching. Tangiers, a
fortress from which great benefit was expected, was become an additional
burden to the crown; and Rutherford, who now commanded in Dunkirk, had
increased the charge of that garrison to a hundred and twenty thousand
pounds a year. These considerations had such influence, not only on the
king, but even on Clarendon, that this uncorrupt minister was the most
forward to advise accepting a sum of money in lieu of a place which, he
thought, the king, from the narrow state of his revenue, was no longer
able to retain. By the treaty with Portugal, it was stipulated that
Dunkirk should never be yielded to the Spaniards; France was therefore
the only purchaser that remained. D’Estrades was invited over by a
letter from the chancellor himself, in order to conclude the bargain.
Nine hundred thousand pounds were demanded: one hundred thousand were
offered. The English by degrees lowered their demand; the French raised
their offer: and the bargain was concluded at four hundred thousand
pounds. The artillery and stores were valued at a fifth of the sum.[**]


     * D’Estrades, 17th of August, 1662. There was above half of
     five hundred thousand pounds really paid as the queen’s
     portion.

     * D’Estrades, 21st of August, 12th of September, 1662.


The importance of this sale was not, at this time, sufficiently known,
either abroad or at home.[*] The French monarch himself, so fond of
acquisitions, and so good a judge of his own interests, thought that he
had made a hard bargain;[**] and this sum, in appearance so small, was
the utmost which he would allow his ambassador to offer.

     * It appears, however, from many of D’Estrades’s letters,
     particularly that of the 21st of August, 1661, that the king
     might have transferred Dunkirk to the parliament, who would
     not have refused to bear the charges of it, but were
     unwilling to give money to the king for that purpose. The
     king, on the other hand, was jealous lest the parliament
     should acquire any separate dominion or authority in a
     branch of administration which seemed so little to belong to
     them; a proof that the government was not yet settled into
     that composure and mutual confidence which is absolutely
     requisite for conducting it.

     * D’Estrades, 3d of October, 1662. The chief importance,
     indeed, of Dunkirk to the English was, that it was able to
     distress their trade when in the hands of the French: but it
     was Lewis XIV. who first made it a good seaport. If ever
     England have occasion to transport armies to the continent,
     it must be in support of some ally whose towns serve to the
     same purpose as Dunkirk would, if in the hands of the
     English.

A new incident discovered such a glimpse of the king’s character and
principles as, at first, the nation was somewhat at a loss how
to interpret, but such as subsequent events, by degrees, rendered
sufficiently plain and manifest. He issued a declaration on pretence
of mitigating the rigors contained in the act of uniformity. After
expressing his firm resolution to observe the general indemnity, and to
trust entirely to the affections of his subjects, not to any military
power, for the support of his throne, he mentioned the promises of
liberty of conscience contained in his declaration of Breda. And he
subjoined, that, “as in the first place he had been zealous to settle
the uniformity of the church of England, in discipline, ceremony, and
government, and shall ever constantly maintain it, so, as for what
concerns the penalties upon those who, living peaceably, do not conform
themselves thereunto, through scruple and tenderness of misguided
conscience, but modestly and without scandal perform their devotions in
their own way, he should make it his special care, so far as in him lay,
without invading the freedom of parliament, to incline their wisdom,
next approaching sessions, to concur with him in making some such act
for that purpose, as may enable him to exercise, with a more universal
satisfaction, that power of dispensing, which he conceived to be
inherent in him.”[*] Here a most important prerogative was exercised
by the king; but under such artful reserves and limitations as might
prevent the full discussion of the claim, and obviate a breach between
him and his parliament. The foundation of this measure lay much deeper,
and was of the utmost consequence.

The king, during his exile, had imbibed strong prejudices a favor of
the Catholic religion; and, according to the most probable accounts,
had already been secretly reconciled in form to the church of Rome. The
great zeal expressed by the parliamentary party against all Papists,
had always, from a spirit of opposition, inclined the court and all the
royalists to adopt more favorable sentiments towards that sect, which,
through the whole course of the civil wars, had strenuously supported
the rights of the sovereign. The rigor, too, which the king, during his
abode in Scotland, had experienced from the Presbyterians, disposed him
to run into the other extreme, and to bear a kindness to the party
most opposite in its genius to the severity of those religionists. The
solicitations and importunities of the queen mother, the contagion of
the company which he frequented, the view of a more splendid and courtly
mode of worship, the hopes of indulgence in pleasure, all these causes
operated powerfully on a young prince, whose careless and dissolute
temper made him incapable of adhering closely to the principles of his
early education. But if the thoughtless humor of Charles rendered him
an easy convert to Popery, the same disposition ever prevented the
theological tenets of that sect from taking any fast hold of him. During
his vigorous state of health, while his blood was warm and his spirits
high, a contempt and disregard to all religion held possession of his
mind; and he might more properly be denominated a deist than a Catholic.
But in those revolutions of temper, when the love of raillery gave place
to reflection, and his penetrating, but negligent understanding was
clouded with fears and apprehensions, he had starts of mere sincere
conviction; and a sect which always possessed his inclination, was then
master of his judgment and opinion.[**]

     * Kennet’s Register, p. 850.

     * The author confesses, that the king’s zeal for Popery was
     apt at intervals to go further than is here supposed, as
     appears from many passages in James II.’s Memoirs.

But though the king thus fluctuated, during his whole reign, between
irreligion, which he more openly professed, and Popery, to which
he retained a secret propensity, his brother the duke of York, had
zealously adopted all the principles of that theological party. His
eager temper and narrow understanding made him a thorough convert,
without any reserve from interest, or doubts from reasoning and inquiry.
By his application to business, he had acquired a great ascendant over
the king; who, though possessed of more discernment, was glad to
throw the burden of affairs on the duke, of whom he entertained little
jealousy. On pretence of easing the Protestant dissenters, they agreed
upon a plan for introducing a general toleration, and giving the
Catholics the free exercise of their religion; at least the exercise of
it in private houses. The two brothers saw with pleasure so numerous and
popular a body of the clergy refuse conformity; and it was hoped that,
under shelter of their name, the small and hated sect of the Catholics
might meet with favor and protection.

{1663.} But while the king pleaded his early promises of toleration,
and insisted on many other plausible topics, the parliament, who sat a
little after the declaration was issued, could by no means be satisfied
with this measure. The declared intention of easing the dissenters, and
the secret purpose of favoring the Catholics, were equally disagreeable
to them and in these prepossessions they were encouraged by the king’s
ministers themselves, particularly the chancellor. The house of commons
represented to the king, that his declaration of Breda contained
no promise to the Presbyterians and other dissenters, but only an
expression of his intentions, upon supposition of the concurrence of
parliament: that even if the nonconformists had been entitled to plead
a promise, they had intrusted this claim, as all their other rights and
privileges, to the house of commons, who were their representatives,
and who now freed the king from that obligation: that it was not to
be supposed, that his majesty and the houses were so bound by that
declaration, as to be incapacitated from making any laws which might be
contrary to it: that even at the king’s restoration, there were laws
of uniformity in force, which could not be dispensed with but by act of
parliament: and that the indulgence intended would prove most pernicious
both to church and state, would open the door to schism, encourage
faction, disturb the public peace, and discredit the wisdom of the
legislature. The king did not think proper, after this remonstrance, to
insist any further at present on the project of indulgence.

In order to deprive the Catholics of all hopes, the two houses concurred
in a remonstrance against them. The king gave a gracious answer;
though he scrupled not to profess his gratitude towards many of that
persuasion, on account of their faithful services in his father’s cause
and in his own. A proclamation, for form’s sake, was soon after issued
against Jesuits and Romish priests: but care was taken, by the very
terms of it, to render it ineffectual. The parliament had allowed, that
all foreign priests, belonging to the two queens, should be excepted,
and that a permission for them to remain in England should still be
granted. In the proclamation, the word foreign was purposely omitted;
and the queens were thereby authorized to give protection to as many
English priests as they should think proper.

That the king might reap some advantage from his compliances, however
fallacious, he engaged the commons anew into an examination of his
revenue, which, chiefly by the negligence in levying it, had proved, he
said, much inferior to the public charges. Notwithstanding the price of
Dunkirk, his debts, he complained, amounted to a considerable sum; and
to satisfy the commons that the money formerly granted him had not been
prodigally expended, he offered to lay before them the whole account of
his disbursements. It is, however, agreed on all hands, that the king,
though during his banishment he had managed his small and precarious
income with great order and economy, had now much abated of these
virtues, and was unable to make his royal revenues suffice for his
expenses. The commons, without entering into too nice a disquisition,
voted him four subsidies; and this was the last time that taxes were
levied in that manner.

Several laws were made this session with regard to trade. The militia
also came under consideration, and some rules were established for
ordering and arming it. It was enacted, that the king should have no
power of keeping the militia under arms above fourteen days in the year.
The situation of this island, together with its great naval power, has
always occasioned other means of security, however requisite, to be much
neglected among us: and the parliament showed here a very superfluous
jealousy of the king’s strictness in disciplining the militia. The
principles of liberty rather require a contrary jealousy.

The earl of Bristol’s friendship with Clarendon, which had subsisted,
with great intimacy, during their exile and the distresses of the royal
party, had been considerably impaired, since the restoration, by the
chancellor’s refusing his assent to some grants which Bristol had
applied for to a court lady: and a little after, the latter nobleman,
agreeably to the impetuosity and indiscretion of his temper, broke out
against the minister in the most outrageous manner. He even entered
a charge of treason against him before the house of peers; but had
concerted his measures so imprudently, that the judges, when consulted,
declared, that neither for its matter nor its form could the charge
be legally received. The articles indeed resemble more the incoherent
altercations of a passionate enemy, than a serious accusation, fit to be
discussed by a court of judicature; and Bristol himself was so
ashamed of his conduct and defeat, that he absconded during some time.
Notwithstanding his fine talents, his eloquence, his spirit, and his
courage, he could never regain the character which he lost by this hasty
and precipitate measure.

But though Clarendon was able to elude this rash assault, his credit
at court was sensibly declining; and in proportion as the king found
himself established on the throne, he began to alienate himself from
a minister whose character was so little suited to his own. Charles’s
favor for the Catholics was always opposed by Clarendon, public liberty
was secured against all attempts of the over-zealous royalists, prodigal
grants of the king were checked or refused, and the dignity of his own
character was so much consulted by the chancellor, that he made it an
inviolable rule, as did also his friend Southampton, never to enter into
any connection with the royal mistresses. The king’s favorite was Mrs.
Palmer, afterwards created duchess of Cleveland; a woman prodigal,
rapacious, dissolute, violent, revengeful. She failed not in her turn
to undermine Clarendon’s credit with his master; and her success was
at this time made apparent to the whole world. Secretary Nicholas, the
chancellor’s great friend, was removed from his place; and Sir Harry
Bennet, his avowed enemy, was advanced to that office. Bennet was soon
after created Lord Arlington.

Though the king’s conduct had hitherto, since his restoration, been
in the main laudable, men of penetration began to observe, that those
virtues by which he had at first so much dazzled and enchanted the
nation, had great show, but not equal solidity. His good understanding
lost much of its influence by his want of application his bounty was
more the result of a facility of disposition than any generosity of
character; his social humor led him frequently to neglect his dignity;
his love of pleasure was not attended with proper sentiment and decency;
and while he seemed to bear a good will to every one that approached
him, he had a heart not very capable of friendship, and he had secretly
entertained a very bad opinion and distrust of mankind. But above all,
what sullied his character in the eyes of good judges, was his negligent
ingratitude towards the unfortunate cavaliers, whose zeal and sufferings
in the royal cause had known no bounds. This conduct, however, in the
king may, from the circumstances of his situation and temper, admit of
some excuse; at least, of some alleviation. As he had been restored more
by the efforts of his reconciled enemies than of his ancient friends,
the former pretended a title to share his favor; and being from practice
acquainted with public business, they were better qualified to execute
any trust committed to them. The king’s revenues were far from being
large, or even equal to his necessary expenses; and his mistresses, and
the companions of his mirth and pleasures, gained by solicitation every
request from his easy temper. The very poverty to which the more zealous
royalists had reduced themselves, by rendering them insignificant, made
them unfit to support the king’s measures, and caused him to deem them
a useless encumbrance. And as many false and ridiculous claims of merit
were offered, his natural indolence, averse to a strict discussion
or inquiry, led him to treat them all with equal indifference. The
parliament took some notice of the poor cavaliers. Sixty thousand
pounds were at one time distributed among them; Mrs. Lane also and the
Penderells had handsome presents and pensions from the king. But the
greater part of the royalists still remained in poverty and distress,
aggravated by the cruel disappointment in their sanguine hopes, and by
seeing favor and preferment bestowed upon their most inveterate foes.
With regard to the act of indemnity and oblivion, they universally said,
that it was an act of indemnity to the king’s enemies and of oblivion to
his friends.





CHAPTER LXIV.




CHARLES II.

{1664.} The next session of parliament discovered a continuance of the
same principles which had prevailed in all the foregoing. Monarchy and
the church were still the objects of regard and affection. During no
period of the present reign did this spirit more evidently pass the
bounds of reason and moderation.

The king, in his speech to the parliament, had ventured openly to demand
a repeal of the triennial act; and he even went so far as to declare
that, notwithstanding the law, he never would allow any parliament to
be assembled by the methods prescribed in that statute. The parliament,
without taking offence at this declaration, repealed the law; and in
lieu of all the securities formerly provided, satisfied themselves with
a general clause, “that parliament should not be interrupted above three
years at the most.” As the English parliament had now raised itself to
be a regular check and control upon royal power, it is evident that they
ought still to have preserved a regular security for their meeting,
and not have trusted entirely to the good will of the king, who, if
ambitious or enterprising, had so little reason to be pleased with these
assemblies. Before the end of Charles’s reign, the nation had occasion
to feel very sensibly the effects of this repeal.

By the act of uniformity, every clergyman who should officiate without
being properly qualified, was punishable by fine and imprisonment: but
this security was not thought sufficient for the church. It was now
enacted, that, wherever five persons above those of the same household
should assemble in a religious congregation, every one of them was
liable, for the first offence, to be imprisoned three months, or pay
five pounds; for the second, to be imprisoned six months, or pay ten
pounds; and for the third, to be transported seven years, or pay a
hundred pounds. The parliament had only in their eye the malignity of
the sectaries; they should have carried their attention further, to the
chief cause of that malignity, the restraint under which they labored.

The commons likewise passed a vote, that the wrongs, dishonors, and
indignities offered to the English by the subjects of the United
Provinces, were the greatest obstructions to all foreign trade: and they
promised to assist the king with their lives and fortunes in asserting
the rights of his crown against all opposition whatsoever. This was
the first open step towards a Dutch war. We must explain the causes and
motives of this measure.

That close union and confederacy which, during a course of near seventy
years, has subsisted, almost without interruption or jealousy, between
England and Holland, is not so much founded on the natural, unalterable
interests of these states, as on their terror of the growing power of
the French monarch, who, without their combination, it is apprehended,
would soon extend his dominion over Europe. In the first years of
Charles’s reign, when the ambitious genius of Lewis had not as yet
displayed itself, and when the great force of his people was in some
measure unknown even to themselves, the rival-ship of commerce, not
checked by any other jealousy or apprehension, had in England begotten a
violent enmity against the neighboring republic.

Trade was beginning among the English to be a matter of general concern;
but notwithstanding all their efforts and advantages, their commerce
seemed hitherto to stand upon a footing which was somewhat precarious.
The Dutch, who by industry and frugality were enabled to undersell them
in every market, retained possession of the most lucrative branches of
commerce; and the English merchants had the mortification to find, that
all attempts to extend their trade were still turned, by the vigilance
of their rivals, to their loss and dishonor. Their indignation
increased, when they considered the superior naval power of England;
the bravery of her officers and seamen; her favorable situation, which
enabled her to intercept the whole Dutch commerce. By the prospect of
these advantages, they were strongly prompted, from motives less just
and political, to make war upon the states; and at once to ravish from
them by force what they could not obtain, or could obtain but slowly, by
superior skill and industry.

The careless, unambitious temper of Charles rendered him little capable
of forming so vast a project as that of engrossing the commerce and
naval power of Europe; yet could he not remain altogether insensible
to such obvious and such tempting prospects. His genius, happily turned
towards mechanics, had inclined him to study naval affairs, which, of
all branches of business, he both loved the most and understood the
best. Though the Dutch, during his exile, had expressed towards him
more civility and friendship than he had received from any other foreign
power, the Louvestein or aristocratic faction, which at this time ruled
the commonwealth, had fallen into close union with France; and could
that party be subdued, he might hope that his nephew, the young prince
of Orange, would be reinstated in the authority possessed by his
ancestors, and would bring the states to a dependence under England. His
narrow revenues made it still requisite for him to study the humors
of his people, which now ran violently towards war; and it has been
suspected, though the suspicion was not justified by the event, that
the hopes of diverting some of the supplies to his private use were not
overlooked by this necessitous monarch.

The duke of York, more active and enterprising, pushed more eagerly the
war with Holland. He desired an opportunity of distinguishing himself:
he loved to cultivate commerce: he was at the head of a new African
company, whose trade was extremely checked by the settlements of the
Dutch: and perhaps the religious prejudices by which that prince was
always so much governed, began, even so early, to instil into him
an antipathy against a Protestant commonwealth, the bulwark of the
reformation. Clarendon and Southampton, observing that the nation was
not supported by any foreign alliance, were averse to hostilities; but
their credit was now on the decline.

By these concurring motives, the court and parliament were both of them
inclined to a Dutch war. The parliament was prorogued without voting
supplies: but as they had been induced, without any open application
from the crown, to pass that vote above mentioned against the Dutch
encroachments, it was reasonably considered as sufficient sanction for
the rigorous measures which were resolved on.

Downing, the English minister at the Hague, a man of an insolent,
impetuous temper, presented a memorial to the states, containing a list
of those depredations of which the English complained. It is remarkable,
that all the pretended depreciations preceded the year 1662, when a
treaty of league and alliance had been renewed with the Dutch; and these
complaints were then thought either so ill grounded or so frivolous,
that they had not been mentioned in the treaty. Two ships alone, the
Bonaventure and the Good Hope, had been claimed by the English; and it
was agreed that the claim should be prosecuted by the ordinary course
of justice. The states had consigned a sum of money, in case the cause
should be decided against them; but the matter was still in dependence.
Cary who was intrusted by the proprietors with the management of the
lawsuit for the Bonaventure, had resolved to accept of thirty thousand
pounds, which were offered him; but was hindered by Downing, who told
him that the claim was a matter of state between the two nations, not a
concern of private persons.[*] These circumstances give us no favorable
idea of the justice of the English pretensions.

     * Temple, vol. ii, p. 42.

Charles confined not himself to memorials and remonstrances. Sir Robert
Holmes was secretly despatched with a squadron of twenty-two ships to
the coast of Africa. He not only expelled the Dutch from Cape Corse,
to which the English had some pretensions; he likewise seized the Dutch
settlements of Cape Verde and the Isle of Goree, together with several
ships trading on that coast. And having sailed to America, he possessed
himself of Nova Belgia, since called New York; a territory which James
I. had given by patent to the earl of Stirling, but which had never
been planted but by the Hollanders. When the states complained of these
hostile measures, the king, unwilling to avow what he could not well
justify, pretended to be totally ignorant of Holmes’s enterprise.
He likewise confined that admiral to the Tower; but some time after
released him.

The Dutch, finding that their applications for redress were likely to be
eluded, and that a ground of quarrel was industriously sought for by
the English, began to arm with diligence. They even exerted, with some
precipitation, an act of vigor which hastened on the rupture. Sir John
Lawson and De Ruyter had been sent with combined squadrons into the
Mediterranean, in order to chastise the piratical states on the coast
of Barbary; and the time of their separation and return was now
approaching. The states secretly despatched orders to De Ruyter, that
he should take in provisions at Cadiz; and sailing towards the coast of
Guinea, should retaliate on the English, and put the Dutch in possession
of those settlements whence Holmes had expelled them. De Ruyter, having
a considerable force on board, met with no opposition in Guinea.


All the new acquisitions of the English, except Cape Corse were
recovered from them. They were even dispossessed of some old
settlements. Such of their ships as fell into his hands were seized by
De Ruyter. That admiral sailed next to America. He attacked Barbadoes,
but was repulsed. He afterwards committed hostilities on Long Island.

Meanwhile the English preparations for war were advancing with vigor and
industry. The king had received no supplies from parliament; but by his
own funds and credit he was enabled to equip a fleet: the city of London
lent him one hundred thousand pounds: the spirit of the nation seconded
his armaments: he himself went from port to port, inspecting with great
diligence, and encouraging the work; and in a little time the English
navy was put in a formidable condition. Eight hundred thousand pounds
are said to have been expended on this armament. When Lawson arrived,
and communicated his suspicion of De Ruyter’s enterprise, orders were
issued for seizing all Dutch ships; and one hundred and thirty-five
fell into the hands of the English. These were not declared prizes till
afterwards, when war was proclaimed.

The parliament, when it met, granted a supply, the largest by far that
had ever been given to a king of England, yet scarcely sufficient for
the present undertaking. Near two millions and a half were voted, to
be levied by quarterly payments in three years. The avidity of the
merchants, together with the great prospect of success, had animated the
whole nation against the Dutch.

A great alteration was made this session in the method of taxing the
clergy. In almost all the other monarchies of Europe, the assemblies,
whose consent was formerly requisite to the enacting of laws, were
composed of three estates, the clergy, the nobility, and the commonalty,
which formed so many members of the political body, of which the king
was considered as the head. In England too, the parliament was always
represented as consisting of three estates; but their separation was
never so distinct as in other kingdoms. A convocation, however, had
usually sitten at the same time with the parliament; though they
possessed not a negative voice in the passing of laws, and assumed
no other temporal power than that of imposing taxes on the clergy. By
reason of ecclesiastical preferments, which he could bestow, the king’s
influence over the church was more considerable than over the laity; so
that the subsidies granted by the convocation were commonly greater than
those which were voted by parliament. The church, therefore, was not
displeased to depart tacitly from the right of taxing herself, and allow
the commons to lay impositions on ecclesiastical revenues, as on the
rest of the kingdom. In recompense, two subsidies, which the convocation
had formerly granted, were remitted, and the parochial clergy were
allowed to vote at elections. Thus the church of England made a barter
of power for profit. Their convocations, having become insignificant to
the crown, have been much disused of late years.

The Dutch saw, with the utmost regret, a war approaching, whence they
might dread the most fatal consequences, but which afforded no prospect
of advantage. They tried every art of negotiation, before they would
come to extremities. Their measures were at that time directed by John
de Wit, a minister equally eminent for greatness of mind, for capacity,
and for integrity. Though moderate in his private deportment, he knew
how to adopt in his public counsels that magnanimity which suits the
minister of a great state. It was ever his maxim, that no independent
government should yield to another any evident point of reason or
equity; and that all such concessions, so far from preventing war,
served to no other purpose than to provoke fresh claims and insults.
By his management a spirit of union was preserved in all the provinces;
great sums were levied; and a navy was equipped, composed of larger
ships than the Dutch had ever built before, and able to cope with the
fleet of England.

{1665.} As soon as certain intelligence arrived of De Ruyter’s
enterprises, Charles declared war against the states. His fleet,
consisting of one hundred and fourteen sail, besides fireships and
ketches, was commanded by the duke of York, and under him by Prince
Rupert and the earl of Sandwich. It had about twenty-two thousand men on
board. Obdam, who was admiral of the Dutch navy, of nearly equal force,
declined not the combat. In the heat of action, when engaged in close
fight with the duke of York, Obdam’s ship blew up. This accident much
discouraged the Dutch, who fled towards their own coast. Tromp alone,
son of the famous admiral killed during the former war, bravely
sustained with his squadron the efforts of the English, and protected
the rear of his countrymen. The vanquished had nineteen ships sunk and
taken. The victors lost only one. Sir John Lawson died soon after of
his wounds. It is affirmed, and with an appearance of reason, that this
victory might have been rendered more complete, had not orders been
issued to slacken sail by Brounker, one of the duke’s bed-chamber, who
pretended authority from his master. The duke disclaimed the orders;
but Brounker never was sufficiently punished for his temerity.[*] It is
allowed, however, that the duke behaved with great bravery during the
action. He was long in the thickest of the fire. The earl of Falmouth,
Lord Muskerry, and Mr. Boyle, were killed by one shot at his side, and
covered him all over with their brains and gore. And it is not likely,
that, in a pursuit, where even persons of inferior station, and of the
most cowardly disposition, acquire courage, a commander should feel his
spirits to flag ana should turn from the back of an enemy, whose face he
had not been afraid to encounter.

     * King James, in his Memoirs, gives an account of
     this affair different from what we meet with in any
     historian. He says, that, while he was asleep, Brounker
     brought orders to Sir John Harman, captain of the ship, to
     slacken sail. Sir John remonstrated, but obeyed. After some
     time, finding that his falling back was likely to produce
     confusion in the fleet, he hoisted the sail as before; so
     that the prince, coming soon after on the quarter deck, and
     finding all things as he left them, knew nothing of what had
     passed during his repose. Nobody gave him the least
     intimation of it. It was long after that he heard of it, by
     a kind of accident; and he intended to have punished
     Brounker by martial law; but just about that time, the house
     of commons took up the question, and impeached him, which
     made it impossible for the duke to punish him otherwise than
     by dismissing him his service. Brounker, before the house,
     never pretended that he had received any orders from the
     duke.

This disaster threw the Dutch into consternation, and determined De Wit,
who was the soul of their councils, to exert his military capacity, in
order to support the declining courage of his countrymen. He went on
board the fleet, which he took under his command; and he soon remedied
all those disorders which had been occasioned by the late misfortune.
The genius of this man was of the most extensive nature. He quickly
became as much master of naval affairs, as if he had from his infancy
been educated in them; and he even made improvements in some parts of
pilotage and sailing, beyond what men expert in those arts had ever been
able to attain.

The misfortunes of the Dutch determined their allies to act for their
assistance and support. The king of France was engaged in a defensive
alliance with the states; but as his naval force was yet in its infancy,
he was extremely averse, at that time, from entering into a war with so
formidable a power as England. He long tried to mediate a peace between
the states, and for that purpose sent an embassy to London, which
returned without effecting any thing. Lord Hollis, the English
ambassador at Paris, endeavored to draw over Lewis to the side of
England; and, in his master’s name, made him the most tempting offers.
Charles was content to abandon all the Spanish Low Countries to the
French, without pretending to a foot of ground for himself, provided
Lewis would allow him to pursue his advantages against the Dutch.[*]
But the French monarch, though the conquest of that valuable territory
was the chief object of his ambition, rejected the offer as contrary to
his interests: he thought, that if the English had once established an
uncontrollable dominion over the sea and over commerce, they would
soon be able to render his acquisitions a dear purchase to him. When De
Lionne, the French secretary, assured Van Beuninghen, ambassador of
the states, that this offer had been pressed on his master during six
months, “I can readily believe it,” replied the Dutchman; “I am sensible
that it is the interest of England.”[**]

     * D’Estrades, December 19, 1664.

     ** D’Estrades, August 14, 1665.

Such were the established maxims at that time with regard to the
interests of princes. It must, however, be allowed, that the politics of
Charles, in making this offer, were not a little hazardous. The extreme
weakness of Spain would have rendered the French conquests easy and
infallible; but the vigor of the Dutch, it might be foreseen, would make
the success of the English much more precarious. And even were the
naval force of Holland totally annihilated, the acquisition of the Dutch
commerce to England could not be relied on as a certain consequence; nor
is trade a constant attendant of power, but depends on many other, and
some of them very delicate, circumstances.

Though the king of France was resolved to support the Hollanders in
that unequal contest in which they were engaged, he yet protracted his
declaration, and employed the time in naval preparations, both in
the ocean and the Mediterranean. The king of Denmark, meanwhile, was
resolved not to remain an idle spectator of the contest between the
maritime powers. The part which he acted was the most extraordinary: he
made a secret agreement with Charles to seize all the Dutch ships in his
harbors, and to share the spoils with the English, provided they would
assist him in executing this measure. In order to increase his prey,
he perfidiously invited the Dutch to take shelter in his ports; and
accordingly the East India fleet, very richly laden, had put into
Bergen. Sandwich, who now commanded the English navy, (the duke having
gone ashore,) despatched Sir Thomas Tiddiman with a squadron to attack
them; but whether from the king of Denmark’s delay in sending orders to
the governor, or, what is more probable, from his avidity in endeavoring
to engross the whole booty, the English admiral, though he behaved with
great bravery, failed of his purpose. The Danish governor fired upon
him; and the Dutch, having had leisure to fortify themselves, made a
gallant resistance.

The king of Denmark, seemingly ashamed of his conduct, concluded with
Sir Gilbert Talbot, the English envoy, an offensive alliance against
the states; and at the very same time, his resident at the Hague, by his
orders, concluded an offensive alliance against England. To this latter
alliance he adhered, probably from jealousy of the increasing naval
power of England; and he seized and confiscated all the English ships in
his harbors. This was a sensible check to the advantages which Charles
had obtained over the Dutch. Not only a blow was given to the English
commerce; the king of Denmark’s naval force was also considerable, and
threatened every moment a conjunction with the Hollanders. That prince
stipulated to assist his ally with a fleet of thirty sail; and he
received in return a yearly subsidy of one million five hundred thousand
crowns, of which three hundred thousand were paid by France.

The king endeavored to counterbalance these confederacies by acquiring
new friends and allies. He had despatched Sir Richard Fanshaw into
Spain, who met with a very cold reception. That monarchy was sunk into
a state of weakness, and was menaced with an invasion from France;
yet could not any motive prevail with Philip to enter into cordial
friendship with England. Charles’s alliance with Portugal, the detention
of Jamaica and Tangiers, the sale of Dunkirk to the French, all these
offences sunk so deep in the mind of the Spanish monarch, that no motive
of interest was sufficient to outweigh them.

The bishop of Munster was the only ally that Charles could acquire. This
prelate, a man of restless enterprise and ambition, had entertained a
violent animosity against the states and he was easily engaged, by
the promise of subsidies from England, to make an incursion on that
republic. With a tumultuary army of near twenty thousand men, he invaded
her territories, and met with weak resistance. The land forces of the
states were as feeble and ill governed, as their fleets were gallant
and formidable. But after his committing great ravages in several of the
provinces, a stop was put to the progress of this warlike prelate.
He had not military skill sufficient to improve the advantages which
fortune had put into his hands: the king of France sent a body of six
thousand men to oppose him: subsidies were not regularly remitted him
from England; and many of his troops deserted for want of pay: the
elector of Brandenburgh threatened him with an invasion in his own
state; and on the whole, he was glad to conclude a peace under the
mediation of France. On the first surmise of his intentions, Sir
William Temple was sent from London with money to fix him in his former
alliance; but found that he arrived too late.

The Dutch, encouraged by all these favorable circumstances, continued
resolute to exert themselves to the utmost in their own defence. De
Ruyter, their great admiral, was arrived from his expedition to Guinea:
their Indian fleet was come home in safety: their harbors were crowded
with merchant ships: faction at home was appeased: the young prince of
Orange had put himself under the tuition of the states of Holland,
and of De Wit, their pensionary, who executed his trust with honor and
fidelity; and the animosity which the Hollanders entertained against
the attack of the English, so unprovoked, as they thought it, made
them thirst for revenge, and hope for better success in their next
enterprise. Such vigor was exerted in the common cause, that, in order
to man the fleet, all merchant ships were prohibited to sail, and even
the fisheries were suspended.[*]

     * Tromp’s Life. D’Estrades February 5, 1665.

The English likewise continued in the same disposition, though another
more grievous calamity had joined itself to that of war. The plague had
broken out in London; and that with such violence as to cut off, in a
year, near ninety thousand inhabitants. The king was obliged to summon
the Parliament at Oxford.

A good agreement still subsisted between the king and parliament. They,
on their part, unanimously voted him the supply demanded, twelve
hundred and fifty thousand pounds, to be levied in two years by monthly
assessments. And he, to gratify them, passed the five-mile act, which
has given occasion to grievous and not unjust complaints. The church,
under pretence of guarding monarchy against its inveterate enemies,
persevered in the project of wreaking her own enmity against the
nonconformists. It was enacted, that no dissenting teacher, who took not
the nonresistance oath above mentioned, should, except upon the road,
come within five miles of any corporation, or of any place, where he
had preached after the act of oblivion. The penalty was a fine of fifty
pounds, and six months’ imprisonment. By ejecting the nonconforming
clergy from their churches, and prohibiting all separate congregations,
they had been rendered incapable of gaining any livelihood by their
spiritual profession. And now, under color of removing them from places
where their influence might be dangerous, an expedient was fallen upon
to deprive them of all means of subsistence. Had not the spirit of the
nation undergone a change, these violences were preludes to the most
furious persecution.

However prevalent the hierarchy, this law did not pass without
opposition. Besides several peers, attached to the old parliamentary
party, Southampton himself, though Clarendon’s great friend, expressed
his disapprobation of these measures. But the church party, not
discouraged with this opposition, introduced into the house of commons a
bill for imposing the oath of nonresistance on the whole nation. It was
rejected only by three voices. The parliament, after a short session,
was prorogued.

{1666.} After France had declared war, England was evidently overmatched
in force. Yet she possessed this advantage by her situation, that she
lay between the fleets of her enemies, and might be able, by speedy and
well-concerted operations, to prevent their junction. But such was the
unhappy conduct of her commanders, or such the want of intelligence in
her ministers, that this circumstance turned rather to her prejudice.
Lewis had given orders to the duke of Beaufort, his admiral, to sail
from Toulon; and the French squadron under his command, consisting
of above forty sail,[*] was now commonly supposed to be entering the
Channel.

     * D’Estrades, May 21, 1666.

The Dutch fleet, to the number of seventy-six sail, was at sea, under
the command of De Ruyter and Tromp, in order to join him. The duke of
Albemarle and Prince Rupert commanded the English fleet, which exceeded
not seventy-four sail. Albemarle, who, from his successes under the
protector, had too much learned to despise the enemy, proposed to
detach Prince Rupert with twenty ships, in order to oppose the duke
of Beaufort. Sir George Ayscue, well acquainted with the bravery and
conduct of De Ruyter, protested against the temerity of this resolution:
but Albemarle’s authority prevailed. The remainder of the English set
sail to give battle to the Dutch; who, seeing the enemy advance quickly
upon them, cut their cables, and prepared for the combat. The battle
that ensued is one of the most memorable that we read of in story;
whether we consider its long duration, or the desperate courage with
which it was fought. Albemarle made here some atonement by his valor for
the rashness of the attempt. No youth, animated by glory and ambitious
hopes, could exert himself more than did this man, who was now in the
decline of life, and who had reached the summit of honors. We shall not
enter minutely into particulars. It will be sufficient to mention the
chief events of each day’s engagement.

In the first day, Sir William Berkeley, vice-admiral, leading the van,
fell into the thickest of the enemy, was overpowered, and his ship
taken. He himself was found dead in his cabin, all covered with blood.
The English had the weather-gage of the enemy; but as the wind blew so
hard that they could not use their lower tier, they derived but small
advantage from this circumstance. The Dutch shot, however, fell chiefly
on their sails and rigging; and few ships were sunk or much damaged.
Chain-shot was at that time a new invention; commonly attributed to De
Wit. Sir John Harman exerted himself extremely on this day. The Dutch
admiral, Evertz, was killed in engaging him. Darkness parted the
combatants.

The second day, the wind was somewhat fallen, and the combat became more
steady and more terrible. The English now found, that the greatest valor
cannot compensate the superiority of numbers, against an enemy who is
well conducted, and who is not defective in courage. De Ruyter and Van
Tromp, rivals in glory and enemies from faction, exerted themselves in
emulation of each other; and De Ruyter had the advantage of disengaging
and saving his antagonist, who had been surrounded by the English, and
was in the most imminent danger. Sixteen fresh ships joined the Dutch
fleet during the action: and the English were so shattered, that their
fighting ships were reduced to twenty-eight, and they found themselves
obliged to retreat towards their own coast. The Dutch followed them,
and were on the point of renewing the combat; when a calm, which came a
little before night, prevented the engagement.

Next morning, the English were obliged to continue their retreat; and a
proper disposition was made for that purpose. The shattered ships were
ordered to stretch ahead; and sixteen of the most entire followed them
in good order, and kept the enemy in awe. Albemarle himself closed the
rear, and presented an undaunted countenance to his victorious foes.
The earl of Ossory, son of Ormond, a gallant youth, who sought honor
and experience in every action throughout Europe, was then on board the
admiral. Albemarle confessed to him his intention rather to blow up his
ship and perish gloriously, than yield to the enemy. Ossory applauded
this desperate resolution.

About two o’clock, the Dutch had come up with their enemy, and were
ready to renew the fight; when a new fleet was descried from the
south, crowding all their sail to reach the scene of action. The Dutch
flattered themselves that Beaufort was arrived to cut off the retreat of
the vanquished: the English hoped, that Prince Rupert had come, to turn
the scale of action. Albemarle, who had received intelligence of the
prince’s approach, bent his course towards him. Unhappily, Sir George
Ayscue, in a ship of a hundred guns, the largest in the fleet, struck
on the Galloper sands, and could receive no assistance from his friends,
who were hastening to join the reënforcement. He could not even reap
the consolation of perishing with honor, and revenging his death on his
enemies. They were preparing fireships to attack him, and he was obliged
to strike. The English sailors, seeing the necessity, with the utmost
indignation surrendered themselves prisoners.

Albemarle and Prince Rupert were now determined to face the enemy; and
next morning, the battle began afresh, with more equal force than ever,
and with equal valor. After long cannonading, the fleets came to a close
combat; which was continued with great violence, till parted by a mist.
The English retired first into their harbors.

Though the English, by their obstinate courage, reaped the chief honor
in this engagement it is somewhat uncertain who obtained the victory.
The Hollanders took a few ships; and having some appearances of
advantage, expressed their satisfaction by all the signs of triumph and
rejoicing. But as the English fleet was repaired in a little time, and
put to sea more formidable than ever, together with many of those ships
which the Dutch had boasted to have burned or destroyed, all Europe saw,
that those two brave nations were engaged in a contest which was not
likely, on either side, to prove decisive.

It was the conjunction alone of the French, that could give a decisive
superiority to the Dutch. In order to facilitate this conjunction, De
Ruyter, having repaired his fleet, posted himself at the mouth of the
Thames. The English, under Prince Rupert and Albemarle, were not long in
coming to the attack. The numbers of each fleet amounted to about eighty
sail; and the valor and experience of the commanders, as well as of the
seamen, rendered the engagement fierce and obstinate. Sir Thomas Allen,
who commanded the white squadron of the English, attacked the Dutch van,
which he entirely routed; and he killed the three admirals who commanded
it. Van Tromp engaged Sir Jeremy Smith; and during the heat of action,
he was separated from De Ruyter and the main body, whether by accident
or design was never certainly known. De Ruyter, with conduct and valor,
maintained the combat against the main body of the English; and,
though overpowered by numbers, kept his station, till night ended the
engagement. Next day, finding the Dutch fleet scattered and discouraged,
his high spirit submitted to a retreat, which yet he conducted with
such skill, as to render it equally honorable to himself as the greatest
victory. Full of indignation, however, at yielding the superiority to
the enemy, he frequently exclaimed, “My God! what a wretch am I! Among
so many thousand bullets, is there not one to put an end to my miserable
life?” One De Witte, his son-in-law, who stood near, exhorted him, since
he sought death, to turn upon the English, and render his life a dear
purchase to the victors. But De Ruyter esteemed it more worthy a brave
man to persevere to the uttermost, and, as long as possible, to render
service to his country. All that night and next day, the English pressed
upon the rear of the Dutch; and it was chiefly by the redoubled efforts
of De Ruyter, that the latter saved themselves in their harbors.

The loss sustained by the Hollanders in this action was not very
considerable; but as violent animosities had broken out
between the two admirals, who engaged all the officers on one side or
other, the consternation which took place was great among the provinces.
Tromp’s commission was at last taken from him; but though several
captains had misbehaved, they were so effectually protected by their
friends in the magistracy of the towns, that most of them escaped
punishment, and many were still continued in their commands.

The English now rode incontestable masters of the sea, and insulted the
Dutch in their harbors. A detachment under Holmes was sent into the road
of Vlie, and burned a hundred and forty merchantmen, two men-of-war,
together with Brandaris, a large and rich village on the coast. The
Dutch merchants, who lost by this enterprise, uniting themselves to
the Orange faction, exclaimed against an administration which, they
pretended, had brought such disgrace and ruin on their country. None but
the firm and intrepid mind of De Wit could have supported itself under
such a complication of calamities.

The king of France, apprehensive that the Dutch would sink under their
misfortunes, at least that De Wit, his friend, might be dispossessed of
the administration, hastened the advance of the duke of Beaufort. The
Dutch fleet likewise was again equipped; and under the command of
De Ruyter, cruised near the Straits of Dover. Prince Rupert with the
English navy, now stronger than ever, came full sail upon them. The
Dutch admiral thought proper to decline the combat, and retired into St.
John’s road, near Bulloigne. Here he sheltered himself, both from the
English, and from a furious storm which arose. Prince Rupert, too, was
obliged to retire into St. Helens; where he staid some time, in order
to repair the damages which he had sustained. Meanwhile the duke
of Beaufort proceeded up the Channel, and passed the English fleet
unperceived; but he did not find the Dutch, as he expected. De Ruyter
had been seized with a fever: many of the chief officers had fallen into
sickness: a contagious distemper was spread through the fleet: and the
states thought it necessary to recall them into their harbors, before
the enemy should be refitted. The French king, anxious for his navy,
which with so much care and industry he had so lately built, despatched
orders to Beaufort, to make the best of his way to Brest. That admiral
had again the good fortune to pass the English. One ship alone, the
Ruby, fell into the hands of the enemy.

While the war continued without any decisive success on either side,
a calamity happened in London which threw the people into great
consternation. Fire, breaking out in a baker’s house near the bridge,
spread itself on all sides with such rapidity, that no efforts could
extinguish it, till it laid in ashes a considerable part of the city.
The inhabitants, without being able to provide effectually for their
relief, were reduced to be spectators of their own ruin; and were
pursued from street to street by the flames, which unexpectedly gathered
round them. Three days and nights did the fire advance; and it was only
by the blowing up of houses that it was at last extinguished. The king
and duke used their utmost endeavors to stop the progress of the flames;
but all their industry was unsuccessful. About four hundred streets and
thirteen thousand houses were reduced to ashes.

The causes of this calamity were evident. The narrow streets of London,
the houses built entirely of wood, the dry season, and a violent east
wind which blew; these were so many concurring circumstances, which
rendered it easy to assign the reason of the destruction that ensued.
But the people were not satisfied with this obvious account. Prompted
by blind rage, some ascribed the guilt to the republicans, others to the
Catholics; though it is not easy to conceive how the burning of London
could serve the purposes of either party. As the Papists were the chief
objects of public detestation, the rumor which threw the guilt on them
was more favorably received by the people. No proof, however, or even
presumption, after the strictest inquiry by a committee of parliament,
ever appeared to authorize such a calumny; yet, in order to give
countenance to the popular prejudice, the inscription, engraved by
authority on the monument, ascribed this calamity to that hated sect.
This clause was erased by order of King James, when he came to the
throne; but after the revolution it was replaced: so credulous, as well
as obstinate, are the people in believing every thing which flatters
their prevailing passion.

The fire of London, though at that time a great calamity, has proved
in the issue beneficial both to the city and the kingdom. The city was
rebuilt in a very little time; and care was taken to make the streets
wider and more regular than before. A discretionary power was assumed
by the king to regulate the distribution of the buildings, and to forbid
the use of lath and timber, the materials of which the houses were
formerly composed. The necessity was so urgent, and the occasion so
extraordinary that no exceptions were taken at an exercise of authority
which otherwise might have been deemed illegal. Had the king been
enabled to carry his power still further, and made the houses be
rebuilt with perfect regularity, and entirely upon one plan, he had much
contributed to the convenience, as well as embellishment of the city.
Great advantages, however, have resulted from the alterations though not
carried to the full length. London became much more healthy after the
fire. The plague, which used to break out with great fury twice or
thrice every century, and indeed was always lurking in some corner or
other of the city, has scarcely ever appeared since that calamity.

The parliament met soon after, and gave the sanction of law to those
regulations made by royal authority; as well as appointed commissioners
for deciding all such questions of property as might arise from the
fire. They likewise voted a supply of one million eight hundred thousand
pounds, to be levied, partly by a poll-bill, partly by assessments.
Though their inquiry brought out no proofs which could fix on the
Papists the burning of London, the general aversion against that
sect still prevailed; and complaints were made, probably without much
foundation, of its dangerous increase. Charles, at the desire of the
commons, issued a proclamation for the banishment of all priests and
Jesuits; but the bad execution of this, as well as of former edicts,
destroyed all confidence in his sincerity, whenever he pretended an
aversion towards the Catholic religion. Whether suspicions of this
nature had diminished the king’s popularity, is uncertain; but it
appears that the supply was voted much later than Charles expected, or
even than the public necessities seemed to require. The intrigues of
the duke of Buckingham, a man who wanted only steadiness to render him
extremely dangerous, had somewhat embarrassed the measures of the court:
and this was the first time that the king found any considerable reason
to complain of a failure of confidence in this house of commons. The
rising symptoms of ill humor tended, no doubt, to quicken the steps
which were already making towards a peace with foreign enemies.

Charles began to be sensible, that all the ends for which the war had
been undertaken were likely to prove entirely abortive. The Dutch, even
when single, had defended themselves with vigor, and were every day
improving in their military skill and preparations.

{1667.} Though their trade had suffered extremely, their extensive
credit enabled them to levy great sums; and while the seamen of England
loudly complained of want of pay, the Dutch navy was regularly supplied
with money and every thing requisite for its subsistence. As two
powerful kings now supported them, every place, from the extremity of
Norway to the coasts of Bayonne, was become hostile to the English. And
Charles, neither fond of action, nor stimulated by any violent ambition,
earnestly sought for means of restoring tranquillity to his people,
disgusted with a war, which, being joined with the plague and fire, had
proved so fruitless and destructive.

The first advances towards an accommodation were made by England. When
the king sent for the body of Sir William Berkeley, he insinuated to
the states his desire of peace on reasonable terms; and their answer
corresponded in the same amicable intentions. Charles, however, to
maintain the appearance of superiority, still insisted that the states
should treat at London; and they agreed to make him this compliment
so far as concerned themselves: but being engaged in alliance with two
crowned heads, they could not, they said, prevail with these to depart
in that respect from their dignity. On a sudden, the king went so far on
the other side as to offer the sending of ambassadors to the Hague; but
this proposal, which seemed honorable to the Dutch, was meant only to
divide and distract them, by affording the English an opportunity to
carry on cabals with the disaffected party. The offer was therefore
rejected; and conferences were secretly held in the queen mother’s
apartments at Paris, where the pretensions of both parties were
discussed. The Dutch made equitable proposals; either that all things
should be restored to the same condition in which they stood before the
war, or that both parties should continue in possession of their present
acquisitions. Charles accepted of the latter proposal; and almost every
thing was adjusted, except the disputes with regard to the Isle of
Polerone. This island lies in the East Indies, and was formerly valuable
for its produce of spices. The English had been masters of it, but were
dispossessed at the time when the violences were committed against
them at Amboyna. Cromwell had stipulated to have it restored; and
the Hollanders, having first entirely destroyed all the spice trees,
maintained that they had executed the treaty, but that the English had
been anew expelled during the course of the war. Charles renewed his
pretensions to this island; and as the reasons on both sides began to
multiply, and seemed to require a long discussion, it was agreed to
transfer the treaty to some other place; and Charles made choice of
Breda.

Lord Hollis and Henry Coventry were the English ambassadors. They
immediately desired that a suspension of arms should be agreed to, till
the several claims should be adjusted; but this proposal, seemingly
so natural, was rejected by the credit of De Wit. That penetrating and
active minister, thoroughly acquainted with the characters of princes
and the situation of affairs, had discovered an opportunity of striking
a blow, which might at once restore to the Dutch the honor lost during
the war, and severely revenge those injuries which he ascribed to the
wanton ambition and injustice of the English.

Whatever projects might have been formed by Charles for secreting
the money granted him by parliament, he had hitherto failed in his
intention. The expenses of such vast armaments had exhausted all the
supplies,[*] and even a great debt was contracted to the seamen. The
king, therefore, was resolved to save, as far as possible, the last
supply of one million eight hundred thousand pounds; and to employ it
for payment of his debts, as well those which had been occasioned by the
war, as those which he had formerly contracted. He observed, that the
Dutch had been with great reluctance forced into the war, and that the
events of it were not such as to inspire them with great desire of its
continuance. The French, he knew, had been engaged into hostilities by
no other motive than that of supporting their ally; and were now more
desirous than ever of putting an end to the quarrel. The differences
between the parties were so inconsiderable, that the conclusion of peace
appeared infallible; and nothing but forms, at least some vain points of
honor, seemed to remain for the ambassadors at Breda to discuss. In
this situation, Charles, moved by an ill-timed frugality, remitted his
preparations, and exposed England to one of the greatest affronts which
it has ever received. Two small squadrons alone were equipped, and
during a war with such potent and martial enemies, every thing was
left almost in the same situation as in times of the most profound
tranquillity.

     * The Dutch had spent on the war near forty millions of
     livres a year, about three millions sterling; a much greater
     sum than had been granted by the English parliament.
     D’Estrades, December 24 1665. January 1, 1666. Temple, vol.
     i. p. 71. It was probably the want of money which engaged
     the king to pay the seamen with tickets; a contrivance which
     proved so much to their loss.

De Wit protracted the negotiations at Breda, and hastened the naval
preparations. The Dutch fleet appeared in the Thames, under the command
of De Ruyter, and threw the English into the utmost consternation. A
chain had been drawn across the River Medway; some fortifications had
been added to Sheerness and Upnore Castle; but all these preparations
were unequal to the present necessity. Sheerness was soon taken; nor
could it be saved by the valor of Sir Edward Sprague, who defended it.
Having the advantage of a spring tide and an easterly wind, the Dutch
pressed on, and broke the chain, though fortified by some ships, which
had been there sunk by orders of the duke of Albemarle. They burned the
three ships which lay to guard the chain--the Matthias, the Unity, and
the Charles V. After damaging several vessels, and possessing themselves
of the hull of the Royal Charles, which the English had burned, they
advanced with six men-of-war and five fireships as far as Upnore Castle,
where they burned the Royal Oak, the Loyal London, and the Great James.
Captain Douglas, who commanded on board the Royal Oak, perished in the
flames, though he had an easy opportunity of escaping. “Never was it
known,” he said, “that a Douglas had left his post without orders.”[*]
The Hollanders fell down the Medway without receiving any considerable
damage; and it was apprehended, that they might next tide sail up the
Thames, and extend their hostilities even to the bridge of London. Nine
ships were sunk at Woolwich, four at Blackwall: platforms were raised in
many places, furnished with artillery; the train bands were called out,
and every place was in a violent agitation. The Dutch sailed next to
Portsmouth, where they made a fruitless attempt: they met with no better
success at Plymouth: they insulted Harwich: they sailed again up the
Thames as far as Tilbury, where they were repulsed. The whole coast was
in alarm; and had the French thought proper at this time to join the
Dutch fleet, and to invade England, consequences the most fatal might
justly have been apprehended. But Lewis had no intention to push the
victory to such extremities. His interest required that a balance
should be kept between the two maritime powers; not that an uncontrolled
superiority should be given to either.

     * Temple, vol. ii. p. 41.

Great indignation prevailed amongst the English, to see an enemy, whom
they regarded as inferior, whom they had expected totally to subdue,
and over whom they had gained many honorable advantages, now of a sudden
ride undisputed masters of the ocean, burn their ships in their very
harbors, fill every place with confusion, and strike a terror into the
capital itself. But though the cause of all these disasters could be
ascribed neither to bad fortune, to the misconduct of admirals, nor to
the ill behavior of seamen, but solely to the avarice, at least to the
improvidence, of the government, no dangerous symptoms of discontent
appeared, and no attempt for an insurrection was made by any of those
numerous sectaries who had been so openly branded for their rebellious
principles, and who, upon that supposition, had been treated with such
severity.[*]

     * Some nonconformists, however, both in Scotland and
     England, had kept a correspondence with the states, and had
     entertained projects for insurrections; but they were too
     weak even to attempt the execution of them. D’Estrades,
     October 13, 1665.

In the present distress, two expedients were embraced: an army of twelve
thousand men was suddenly levied; and the parliament, though it lay
under prorogation, was summoned to meet. The houses were very thin; and
the only vote which the commons passed, was an address for breaking the
army; which was complied with. This expression of jealousy showed the
court what they might expect from that assembly; and it was thought more
prudent to prorogue them till next winter.

But the signing of the treaty at Breda extricated the king from his
present difficulties. The English ambassadors received orders to recede
from those demands, which, how ever frivolous in themselves, could not
now be relinquished without acknowledging a superiority in the enemy.
Polerone remained with the Dutch; satisfaction for the ships Bonaventure
and Good Hope, the pretended grounds of the quarrel, was no longer
insisted on; Acadie was yielded to the French. The acquisition of
New York, a settlement so important by its situation, was the chief
advantage which the English reaped from a war, in which the national
character of bravery had shone out with lustre, but where the misconduct
of the government, especially in the conclusion, had been no less
apparent.

To appease the people by some sacrifice seemed requisite before the
meeting of parliament; and the prejudices of the nation pointed out the
victim. The chancellor was at this time much exposed to the hatred
of the public, and of every party which divided the nation. All the
numerous sectaries regarded him as their determined enemy; and ascribed
to his advice and influence those persecuting laws to which they had
lately been exposed. The Catholics knew, that while he retained any
authority, all their credit with the king and the duke would be entirely
useless to them, nor must they ever expect any favor or indulgence. Even
the royalists, disappointed in their sanguine hopes of preferment, threw
a great load of envy on Clarendon, into whose hands the king seemed
at first to have resigned the whole power of government. The sale of
Dunkirk, the bad payment of the seamen, the disgrace at Chatham, the
unsuccessful conclusion of the war all these misfortunes were charged on
the chancellor, who though he had ever opposed the rupture with Holland,
thought it still his duty to justify what he could not prevent. A
building, likewise, of more expense and magnificence than his slender
fortune could afford, being unwarily undertaken by him, much exposed him
to public reproach, as if he had acquired great riches by corruption.
The populace gave it commonly the appellation of Dunkirk House.

[Illustration: 1-781-chatham.jpg CHATHAM]

The king himself, who had always more revered than loved the chancellor,
was now totally estranged from him. Amidst the dissolute manners of the
court, that minister still maintained an inflexible dignity, and would
not submit to any condescensions which he deemed unworthy of his age and
character. Buckingham, a man of profligate morals, happy in his talent
for ridicule, but exposed in his own conduct to all the ridicule which
he threw on others, still made him the object of his raillery, and
gradually lessened in the king that regard which he bore to his
minister. When any difficulties arose, either for want of power or
money, the blame was still thrown on him, who, it was believed, had
carefully at the restoration checked all lavish concessions to the king.
And what, perhaps, touched Charles more nearly, he found in Clarendon,
it is said, obstacles to his pleasures, as well as to his ambition.

The king, disgusted with the homely person of his consort, and desirous
of having children, had hearkened to proposals of obtaining a divorce,
on pretence either of her being pre-engaged to another, or having made
a vow of chastity before her marriage. He was further stimulated by his
passion for Mrs. Stuart, daughter of a Scotch gentleman; a lady of
great beauty, and whose virtue he had hitherto found impregnable: but
Clarendon, apprehensive of the consequences attending a disputed title,
and perhaps anxious for the succession of his own grandchildren, engaged
the duke of Richmond to marry Mrs. Stuart, and thereby put an end to
the king’s hopes. It is pretended that Charles never forgave this
disappointment.

When politics, therefore, and inclination both concurred to make the
king sacrifice Clarendon to popular prejudices, the memory of his past
services was not able any longer to delay his fall. The great seal was
taken from him, and given to Sir Orlando Bridgeman, by the title of lord
keeper. Southampton, the treasurer, was now dead, who had persevered
to the utmost in his attachments to the chancellor. The last time he
appeared at the council table, he exerted his friendship with a vigor
which neither age nor infirmities could abate. “This man,” said he,
speaking of Clarendon, “is a true Protestant, and an honest Englishman;
and while he enjoys power, we are secure of our laws, liberties, and
religion. I dread the consequences of his removal.”

But the fall of the chancellor was not sufficient to gratify the malice
of his enemies: his total ruin was resolved on. The duke of York in vain
exerted his interest in behalf of his father-in-law. Both prince and
people united in promoting that violent measure; and no means were
thought so proper for ingratiating the court with a parliament, which
had so long been governed by that very minister who was now to be the
victim of their prejudices.

Some popular acts paved the way for the session; and the parliament,
in their first address, gave the king thanks for these instances of his
goodness; and, among the rest, they took care to mention his dismission
of Clarendon. The king, in reply, assured the houses, that he would
never again employ that nobleman in any public office whatsoever.
Immediately the charge against him was opened in the house of commons by
Mr. Seymour, afterwards Sir Edward, and consisted of seventeen articles.
The house, without examining particulars, further than hearing
general affirmations that all would be proved, immediately voted his
impeachment. Many of the articles[*] [1] we know to be either false
or frivolous; and such of them as we are less acquainted with, we
may fairly presume to be no better grounded. His advising the sale of
Dunkirk seems the heaviest and truest part of the charge; but a mistake
in judgment, allowing it to be such, where there appear no symptoms of
corruption or bad intentions, it would be very hard to impute as a crime
to any minister. The king’s necessities, which occasioned that measure,
cannot with any appearance of reason be charged on Clarendon; and
chiefly proceeded from the over frugal maxims of the parliament itself,
in not granting the proper supplies to the crown.

     * See note A, at the end of the volume.

When the impeachment was carried up to the peers, as it contained an
accusation of treason in general, without specifying any particulars, it
seemed not a sufficient ground for committing Clarendon to custody. The
precedents of Strafford and Laud were not, by reason of the violence of
the times, deemed a proper authority; but as the commons still insisted
upon his commitment, it was necessary to appoint a free conference
between the houses. The lords persevered in their resolution; and the
commons voted this conduct to be an obstruction to public justice, and a
precedent of evil and dangerous tendency. They also chose a committee to
draw up a vindication of their own proceedings.

Clarendon, finding that the popular torrent, united to the violence of
power, ran with impetuosity against him, and that a defence offered to
such prejudiced ears would be entirely ineffectual, thought proper to
withdraw. At Calais he wrote a paper addressed to the house of lords.
He there said, that his fortune, which was but moderate, had been
gained entirely by the lawful, avowed profits of his office, and by the
voluntary bounty of the king; that, during the first years after
the restoration, he had always concurred in opinion with the other
counsellors, men of such reputation that no one could entertain
suspicions of their wisdom or integrity: that his credit soon declined;
and however he might disapprove of some measures, he found it vain to
oppose them; that his repugnance to the Dutch war, the source of all
the public grievances, was always generally known, as well as his
disapprobation of many unhappy steps taken in conducting it: and that,
whatever pretence might be made of public offences, his real crime, that
which had exasperated his powerful enemies, was his frequent opposition
to exorbitant grants, which the importunity of suitors had extorted from
his majesty.

The lords transmitted this paper to the commons, under the appellation
of a libel; and by a vote of both houses it was condemned to be burned
by the hands of the hangman. The parliament next proceeded to exert
their legislative power against Clarendon, and passed a bill of
banishment and incapacity, which received the royal assent. He retired
into France, where he lived in a private manner. He survived his
banishment six years; and he employed his leisure chiefly in reducing
into order the History of the Civil Wars, for which he had before
collected materials. The performance does honor to his memory; and,
except Whitlocke’s Memorials, is the most candid account of those times
composed by any contemporary author.

Clarendon was always a friend to the liberty and constitution of his
country. At the commencement of the civil wars, he had entered into the
late king’s service, and was honored with a great share in the esteem
and friendship of that monarch: he was pursued with unrelenting
animosity by the long parliament: he had shared all the fortunes and
directed all the counsels of the present king during his exile: he had
been advanced to the highest trust and offices after the restoration:
yet all these circumstances, which might naturally operate with such
force, either on resentment, gratitude, or ambition, had no influence
on his uncorrupted mind. It is said, that when he first engaged in the
study of the law, his father exhorted him with great earnestness to shun
the practice, too common in that profession, of straining every point
in favor of prerogative, and perverting so useful a science to the
oppression of liberty; and in the midst of these rational and virtuous
counsels, which he reiterated, he was suddenly seized with an apoplexy,
and expired in his son’s presence. This circumstance gave additional
weight to the principles which he inculcated.

The combination of king and subject to oppress so good a minister,
affords to men of opposite dispositions an equal occasion of inveighing
against the ingratitude of princes, or ignorance of the people. Charles
seems never to have mitigated his resentment against Clarendon; and the
national prejudices pursued him to his retreat in France. A company of
English soldiers, being quartered near him, assaulted his house, broke
open the doors, gave him a dangerous wound on the head, and would have
proceeded to the last extremities, had not their officers, hearing of
the violence, happily interposed.

{1668.} The next expedient which the king embraced in order to acquire
popularity, is more deserving of praise; and, had it been steadily
pursued, would probably have rendered his reign happy, certainly his
memory respected. It is the triple alliance of which I speak; a measure
which gave entire satisfaction to the public.

The glory of France, which had long been eclipsed, either by domestic
factions, or by the superior force of the Spanish monarchy, began now
to break out with great lustre, and to engage the attention of the
neighboring nations. The independent power and mutinous spirit of
the nobility were subdued; the popular pretensions of the parliament
restrained; the Hugonot party reduced to subjection: that extensive and
fertile country, enjoying every advantage both of climate and situation,
was fully peopled with ingenious and industrious inhabitants: and while
the spirit of the nation discovered all the vigor and bravery requisite
for great enterprises, it was tamed to an entire submission under the
will of the sovereign.

The sovereign who now filled the throne was well adapted, by his
personal character, both to increase and to avail himself of these
advantages. Lewis XIV., endowed with every quality which could enchant
the people, possessed many which merit the approbation of the wise. The
masculine beauty of his person was embellished with a noble air: the
dignity of his behavior was tempered with affability and politeness:
elegant without effeminacy, addicted to pleasure without neglecting
business, decent in his very vices, and beloved in the midst of
arbitrary power, he surpassed all contemporary monarchs, as in grandeur,
so likewise in fame and glory.

His ambition, regulated by prudence, not by justice, had carefully
provided every means of conquest; and before he put himself in motion,
he seemed to have absolutely insured success. His finances were brought
into order; a naval power created; his armies increased and disciplined;
magazines and military stores provided; and though the magnificence of
his court was supported beyond all former example; so regular was the
economy observed, and so willingly did the people, now enriched by arts
and commerce, submit to multiplied taxes, that his military force
much exceeded what in any preceding age had ever been employed by any
European monarch.

The sudden decline, and almost total fall of the Spanish monarchy,
opened an inviting field to so enterprising a prince, and seemed to
promise him easy and extensive conquests. The other
nations of Europe, feeble or ill governed, were astonished at the
greatness of his rising empire; and all of them cast their eyes towards
England, as the only power which could save them from that subjection
with which they seemed to be so nearly threatened.

The animosity which had anciently subsisted between the English and
French nations, and which had been suspended for above a century by the
jealousy of Spanish greatness, began to revive and to exert itself. The
glory of preserving the balance of Europe, a glory so much founded on
justice and humanity, flattered the ambition of England; and the people
were eager to provide for their own future security, by opposing the
progress of so hated a rival. The prospect of embracing such measures
had contributed, among other reasons, to render the peace of Breda so
universally acceptable to the nation. By the death of Philip IV., king
of Spain, an inviting opportunity, and some very slender pretences, had
been afforded to call forth the ambition of Lewis.

At the treaty of the Pyrenees, when Lewis espoused the Spanish princess,
he had renounced every title of succession to every part of the Spanish
monarchy; and this renunciation had been couched in the most accurate
and most precise terms that language could afford. But on the death of
his father-in-law, he retracted his renunciation, and pretended
that natural rights, depending on blood and succession, could not be
annihilated by any extorted deed or contract. Philip had left a son,
Charles II. of Spain; but as the queen of France was of a former
marriage, she laid claim to a considerable province of the Spanish
monarchy, even to the exclusion of her brother. By the customs of some
parts of Brabant, a female of a first marriage was preferred to a male
of a second, in the succession to private inheritances; and Lewis thence
inferred, that his queen had acquired a right to the dominion of that
important duchy.

A claim of this nature was more properly supported by military force
than by argument and reasoning. Lewis appeared on the frontiers of the
Netherlands with an army of forty thousand men, commanded by the best
generals of the age, and provided with every thing necessary for action.
The Spaniards, though they might have foreseen this measure, were
totally unprepared. Their towns, without magazines, fortifications
or garrisons, fell into the hands of the French king, as soon as he
presented himself before them. Athe, Lisle, Tournay, Oudenarde,
Courtray, Charleroi, Binche, were immediately taken: and it was visible,
that no force in the Low Countries was able to stop or retard the
progress of the French arms.

This measure, executed with such celerity and success, gave great alarm
to almost every court in Europe. It had been observed with what dignity,
or even haughtiness, Lewis, from the time he began to govern, had
ever supported all his rights and pretensions. D’Estrades, the French
ambassador, and Watteville, the Spanish, having quarrelled in London,
on Account of their claims for precedency, the French monarch was not
satisfied, till Spain sent to Paris a solemn embassy, and promised never
more to revive such contests. Crequi, his ambassador at Rome, had met
with an affront from the pope’s guards: the pope, Alexander VII., had
been constrained to break his guards, to send his nephew to ask pardon,
and to allow a pillar to be erected in Rome itself, as a monument of his
own humiliation. The king of England too had experienced the high spirit
and unsubmitting temper of Lewis. A pretension to superiority in the
English flag having been advanced, the French monarch remonstrated
with such vigor, and prepared himself to resist with such courage, that
Charles found it more prudent to desist from his vain and antiquated
claims. “The king of England,” said Lewis to his ambassador D’Estrades,
“may know my force, but he knows not the sentiments of my heart: every
thing appears to me contemptible in comparison of glory.”[*] These
measures of conduct had given strong indications of his character: but
the invasion of Flanders discovered an ambition, which, being supported
by such overgrown power, menaced the general liberties of Europe.

     * January 25, 1662

As no state lay nearer the danger, none was seized with more terror than
the United Provinces. They were still engaged, together with France, in
a war against England; and Lewis had promised them, that he would take
no step against Spain without previously informing them: but, contrary
to this assurance, he kept a total silence, till on the very point of
entering upon action. If the renunciation made at the treaty of the
Pyrenees was not valid, it was foreseen, that upon the death of the king
of Spain, a sickly infant, the whole monarchy would be claimed by
Lewis; after which it would be vainly expected to set bounds to his
pretensions. Charles acquainted with these well-grounded apprehensions
of the Dutch, had been the more obstinate in insisting on his own
conditions at Breda; and by delaying to sign the treaty, had imprudently
exposed himself to the signal disgrace which he received at Chatham. De
Wit, sensible that a few weeks’ delay would be of no consequence in the
Low Countries, took this opportunity of striking an important blow, and
of finishing the war with honor to himself and to his country.

Negotiations meanwhile commenced for the saving of Flanders; but no
resistance was made to the French arms. The Spanish ministers exclaimed
every where against the flagrant injustice of Lewis’s pretensions, and
represented it to be the interest of every power in Europe, even more
than of Spain itself, to prevent his conquest of the Low Countries.
The emperor and the German princes discovered evident symptoms of
discontent; but their motions were slow and backward. The states,
though terrified at the prospect of having their frontier exposed to so
formidable a foe, saw no resource, no means of safety. England indeed
seemed disposed to make opposition to the French; but the variable and
impolitic conduct of Charles kept that republic from making him any
open advances, by which she might lose the friendship of France, without
acquiring any new ally. And though Lewis, dreading a combination of all
Europe, had offered terms of accommodation, the Dutch apprehended lest
these, either from the obstinacy of the Spaniards, or the ambition of
the French, would never be carried into execution.

Charles resolved with great prudence to take the first step towards
a confederacy. Sir William Temple, his resident at Brussels, received
orders to go secretly to the Hague, and to concert with the states the
means of saving the Netherlands. This man, whom philosophy had taught to
despise the world, without rendering him unfit for it, was frank,
open, sincere, superior to the little tricks of vulgar politicians;
and meeting in De Wit with a man of the same generous and enlarged
sentiments, he immediately opened his master’s intentions, and pressed a
speedy conclusion. A treaty was from the first negotiated between
these two statesmen with the same cordiality as if it were a private
transaction between intimate companions. Deeming the interests of their
country the same, they gave full scope to that sympathy of character,
which disposed them to an entire reliance on each other’s professions
and engagements. And though jealousy against the house of Orange might
inspire De Wit with an aversion to a strict union with England, he
generously resolved to sacrifice all private considerations to the
public service.

Temple insisted on an offensive league between England and Holland, in
order to oblige France to relinquish all her conquests: but De Wit told
him, that this measure was too bold and precipitate to be agreed to by
the states. He said that the French were the old and constant allies of
the republic; and till matters came to extremities, she never would
deem it prudent to abandon a friendship so well established, and rely
entirely on a treaty with England, which had lately waged so cruel a war
against her: that ever since the reign of Elizabeth, there had been such
a fluctuation in the English councils, that it was not possible, for two
years together, to take any sure or certain measures with that
kingdom: that though the present ministry, having entered into views
so conformable to national interest, promised greater firmness and
constancy, it might still be unsafe, in a business of such consequence,
to put entire confidence in them: that the French monarch was young,
haughty, and powerful; and if treated in so imperious a manner, would
expose himself to the greatest extremities rather than submit: that it
was sufficient, if he could be constrained to adhere to the offers which
he himself had already made, and if the remaining provinces of the Low
Countries could be thereby saved from the danger with which they were at
present threatened: and that the other powers in Germany and the north,
whose assistance they might expect, would be satisfied with putting a
stop to the French conquests, without pretending to recover the places
already lost.

The English minister was content to accept of the terms proposed by the
pensionary. Lewis had offered to relinquish all the queen’s rights,
on condition either of keeping the conquests which he had made last
campaign, or of receiving, in lieu of them, Franche Compte, together
with Cambray, Aire, and St. Omers. De Wit and Temple founded their
treaty upon this proposal. They agreed to offer their mediation to the
contending powers, and oblige France to adhere to this alternative, and
Spain to accept of it. If Spain refused, they agreed that France should
not prosecute her claim by arms, but leave it entirely to England
and Holland to employ force for making the terms effectual. And the
remainder of the Low Countries they thenceforth guarantied to Spain. A
defensive alliance was likewise concluded between Holland and England.

The articles of this confederacy were soon adjusted by such candid and
able negotiators: but the greatest difficulty still remained. By the
constitution of the republic, all the towns in all the provinces must
give their consent to every alliance; and besides that this formality
could not be despatched in less than two months, it was justly to be
dreaded that the influence of France would obstruct the passing of the
treaty in some of the smaller cities. D’Estrades, the French ambassador,
a man of abilities, hearing of the league which was on the carpet,
treated it lightly. “Six weeks hence,” said he, “we shall speak to it.”
 To obviate this difficulty, De Wit had the courage, for the public
good, to break through the laws in so fundamental an article; and by
his authority, he prevailed with the states general at once to sign and
ratify the league: though they acknowledged that, if that measure
should displease their constituents, they risked their heads by this
irregularity. After sealing, all parties embraced with great cordiality.
Temple cried out, “At Breda, as friends: here, as brothers.” And De Wit
added, that now the matter was finished, it looked like a miracle.

Room had been left in the treaty for the accession of Sweden, which
was soon after obtained; and thus was concluded in five days the triple
league; an event received with equal surprise and approbation by the
world. Notwithstanding the unfortunate conclusion of the last war,
England now appeared in her proper station, and, by this wise conduct,
had recovered all her influence and credit in Europe. Temple likewise
received great applause; but to all the compliments made him on the
occasion, he modestly replied, that to remove things from their centre,
or proper element, required force and labor; but that of themselves they
easily returned to it.

The French monarch was extremely displeased with this measure. Not only
bounds were at present set to his ambition; such a barrier was also
raised as seemed forever impregnable. And though his own offer was made
the foundation of the treaty, he had prescribed so short a time for the
acceptance of it that he still expected, from the delays and reluctance
of Spain, to find some opportunity of eluding it. The court of Madrid
showed equal displeasure. To relinquish any part of the Spanish
provinces, in lieu of claims so apparently unjust, and these urged with
such violence and haughtiness, inspired the highest disgust. Often did
the Spaniards threaten to abandon entirely the Low Countries, rather
than submit to so cruel a mortification; and they endeavored, by this
menace, to terrify the mediating powers into more vigorous measures for
their support. But Temple and De Wit were better acquainted with the
views and interests of Spain. They knew that she must still retain the
Low Countries, as a bond of connection with the other European powers,
who alone, if her young monarch should happen to die without issue,
could insure her independency against the pretensions of France. They
still urged, therefore, the terms of the triple league, and threatened
Spain with war in case of refusal. The plenipotentiaries of all the
powers met at Aix-la-Chapelle. Temple was minister for England; Van
Beuninghen for Holland; D’Ohna for Sweden.

Spain at last, pressed on all hands, accepted of the alternative
offered; but in her very compliance, she gave strong symptoms of ill
humor and discontent. It had been apparent that the Hollanders, entirely
neglecting the honor of the Spanish monarchy, had been anxious only for
their own security; and, provided they could remove Lewis to a distance
from their frontier, were more indifferent what progress he made
in other places. Sensible of these views, the queen regent of Spain
resolved still to keep them in an anxiety, which might for the future
be the foundation of a union more intimate than they were willing at
present to enter into Franche Compte, by a vigorous and well-concerted
plan of the French king, had been conquered in fifteen days, during
a rigorous season, and in the midst of winter. She chose therefore
to recover this province, and to abandon all the towns conquered in
Flanders during the last campaign. By this means Lewis extended his
garrisons into the heart of the Low Countries; and a very feeble barrier
remained to the Spanish provinces.

But notwithstanding the advantages of his situation, the French monarch
could entertain small hopes of ever extending his conquests on that
quarter, which lay the most exposed to his ambition, and where his
acquisitions were of most importance. The triple league guarantied the
remaining provinces to Spain; and the emperor and other powers of
Germany, whose interest seemed to be intimately concerned, were invited
to enter into the same confederacy. Spain herself, having about this
time, under the mediation of Charles, made peace on equal terms with
Portugal, might be expected to exert more vigor and opposition to
her haughty and triumphant rival. The great satisfaction expressed in
England on account of the counsels now embraced by the court, promised
the hearty concurrence of parliament in every measure which could be
proposed for opposition to the grandeur of France. And thus all Europe
seemed to repose herself with security under the wings of that powerful
confederacy which had been so happily formed for her protection. It is
now time to give some account of the state of affairs in Scotland and in
Ireland.

The Scottish nation, though they had never been subject to the arbitrary
power of their prince, had but very imperfect notions of law and
liberty; and scarcely in any age had they ever enjoyed an administration
which had confined itself within the proper boundaries. By their final
union alone with England, their once hated adversary, they have happily
attained the experience of a government perfectly regular, and exempt
from all violence and injustice. Charles, from his aversion to business,
had intrusted the affairs of that country to his ministers, particularly
Middleton; and these could not forbear making very extraordinary
stretches of authority.

There had been intercepted a letter, written by Lord Lorne to Lord
Duffus, in which, a little too plainly, but very truly, he complained,
that his enemies had endeavored by falsehood to prepossess the king
against him. But he said, that he had now discovered them, had defeated
them, and had gained the person, meaning the earl of Clarendon, upon
whom the chief of them depended. This letter was produced before the
parliament; and Lorne was tried upon an old, tyrannical, absurd law
against leasing-making; by which it was rendered criminal to belie the
subjects to the king, or create in him an ill opinion of them. He was
condemned to die: but Charles was much displeased with the sentence, and
granted him a pardon.[*]

     * Burnet, p. 149.

It was carried in parliament, that twelve persons, without crime,
witness, trial, or accuser, should be declared incapable of all trust or
office; and to render this injustice more egregious, it was agreed,
that these persons should be named by ballot; a method of voting which
several republics had adopted at elections, in order to prevent faction
and intrigue; but which could serve only as a cover to malice and
iniquity in the inflicting of punishments. Lauderdale, Crawford, and
Sir Robert Murray, among others, were incapacitated: but the king, who
disapproved of this injustice, refused his assent.[*]

An act was passed against all persons who should move the king for
restoring the children of those who were attainted by parliament; an
unheard-of restraint on applications for grace and mercy. No penalty
was affixed; but the act was but the more violent and tyrannical on
that account. The court lawyers had established it as a maxim, that the
assigning of a punishment was a limitation of the crown; whereas a
law forbidding any thing, though without a penalty, made the offenders
criminal. And in that case, they determined that the punishment
was arbitrary; only that it could not extend to life. Middleton, as
commissioner, passed this act; though he had no instructions for that
purpose.

An act of indemnity passed; but at the same time it was voted, that all
those who had offended during the late disorders, should be subjected
to fines; and a committee of parliament was appointed for imposing them.
These proceeded without any regard to some equitable rules which the
king had prescribed to them.[*] The most obnoxious compounded secretly.

     * Burnet, p. 152.

     ** Burnet, p. 147.

No consideration was had, either of men’s riches, or of the degrees
of their guilt: no proofs were produced: inquiries were not so much as
made: but as fast as information was given in against any man, he was
marked down for a particular fine: and all was transacted in a secret
committee. When the list was read in parliament, exceptions were made
to several: some had been under age during the civil wars; some had been
abroad. But it was still replied, that a proper time would come when
every man should be heard in his own defence. The only intention, it was
said, of setting the fines was, that such persons should have no benefit
by the act of indemnity, unless they paid the sum demanded: every one
that chose to stand upon his innocence, and renounce the benefit of
the indemnity, might do it at his peril. It was well known, that no one
would dare so far to set at defiance so arbitrary an administration.
The king wrote to the council, ordering them to supersede the levying of
those fines: but Middleton found means, during some time, to elude these
orders.[*] And at last, the king obliged his ministers to compound for
half the sums which had been imposed. In all these transactions, and
in most others which passed during the present reign, we still find the
moderating hand of the king interposed to protect the Scots from the
oppressions which their own countrymen, employed in the ministry, were
desirous of exercising over them.

     * Burnet, p. 201.

But the chief circumstance whence were derived all the subsequent
tyranny and disorders in Scotland, was the execution of the laws for the
establishment of Episcopacy; a mode of government to which a great part
of the nation had entertained an unsurmountable aversion. The rights
of patrons had for some years been abolished; and the power of electing
ministers had been vested in the kirk session and lay elders. It was
now enacted, that all incumbents who had been admitted upon this title,
should receive a presentation from the patron, and should be instituted
anew by the bishop, under the penalty of deprivation. The more
rigid Presbyterians concerted measures among themselves, and refused
obedience: they imagined that their number would protect them. Three
hundred and fifty parishes, above a third of the kingdom, were at once
declared vacant. The western counties chiefly were obstinate in this
particular. New ministers were sought for all over the kingdom; and no
one was so ignorant or vicious as to be rejected. The people, who loved
extremely and respected their former teachers; men remarkable for the
severity of their manners, and their fervor in preaching; were inflamed
against these intruders, who had obtained their livings under such
invidious circumstances, and who took no care, by the regularity of
their manners, to soften the prejudices entertained against them. Even
most of those who retained their livings by compliance, fell under the
imputation of hypocrisy, either by their showing a disgust to the new
model of ecclesiastical government which they had acknowledged; or, on
the other hand, by declaring, that their former adherence to Presbytery
and the covenant had been the result of violence and necessity. And as
Middleton and the new ministry indulged themselves in great riot and
disorder, to which the nation had been little accustomed, an opinion
universally prevailed, that any form of religion, offered by such hands,
must be profane and impious.

The people, notwithstanding their discontents, were resolved to give
no handle against them, by the least symptom of mutiny or sedition: but
this submissive disposition, instead of procuring a mitigation of the
rigors, was made use of as an argument for continuing the same measures,
which, by their vigor, it was pretended, had produced so prompt an
obedience. The king, however, was disgusted with the violence of
Middleton;[*] and he made Rothes commissioner in his place. This
nobleman was already president of the council; and soon after was made
lord keeper and treasurer. Lauderdale still continued secretary of
state, and commonly resided at London.

Affairs remained in a peaceable state, till the severe law was made in
England against conventicles.[**] The Scottish parliament imitated that
violence, by passing a like act. A kind of high commission court was
appointed by the privy council, for executing this rigorous law, and for
the direction of ecclesiastical affairs. But even this court, illegal
as it might be deemed, was much preferable to the method next adopted.
Military force was let loose by the council. Wherever the people had
generally forsaken their churches, the guards were quartered throughout
the country. Sir James Turner commanded them, a man whose natural
ferocity of temper was often inflamed by the use of strong liquors. He
went about, and received from the clergy lists of those who absented
themselves from church, or were supposed to frequent conventicles.
Without any proof or legal conviction, he demanded a fine from them,
and quartered soldiers on the supposed delinquents, till he received
payment. As an insurrection was dreaded during the Dutch war, new forces
were levied, and intrusted to the command, of Dalziel and Drummond;
two officers who had served the king during the civil wars, and had
afterwards engaged in the service of Russia, where they had increased
the native cruelty of their disposition. A full career was given to
their tyranny by the Scottish ministry. Representations were made to the
king against these enormities. He seemed touched with the state of the
country; and besides giving orders that the ecclesiastical commission
should be discontinued, he signified his opinion, that another way of
proceeding was necessary for his service.[***]

     * Burnet, p 202.

     ** 1664.

     *** Burnet, p. 213

This lenity of the king’s came too late to remedy the disorders. The
people, inflamed with bigotry, and irritated by ill usage, rose in
arms. They were instigated by Guthry, Semple, and other preachers. They
surprised Turner in Dumfries, and resolved to have put him to death; but
finding that his orders, which fell into their hands, were more violent
than his execution of them, they spared his life. At Laneric, after many
prayers, they renewed the covenant, and published their manifesto; in
which they professed all submission to the king: they desired only the
reëstablishment of Presbytery, and of their former ministers. As many
gentlemen of their party had been confined on suspicion, Wallace
and Learmont, two officers who had served, but in no high rank, were
intrusted by the populace with the command. Their force never exceeded
two thousand men; and though the country in general bore them favor,
men’s spirits were so subdued, that the rebels could expect no further
accession of numbers. Dalziel took the field to oppose their progress.
Their number was now diminished to eight hundred; and these, having
advanced near Edinburgh, attempted to find their way back into the west
by Pentland Hills. They were attacked by the king’s forces.[*] Finding
that they could not escape, they stopped their march. Their clergy
endeavored to infuse courage into them. After singing some psalms, the
rebels turned on the enemy; and being assisted by the advantage of the
ground, they received the first charge very resolutely. But that was
all the action: immediately they fell into disorder, and fled for their
lives. About forty were killed on the spot, and a hundred and thirty
taken prisoners. The rest, favored by the night, and by the weariness,
and even by the pity of the king’s troops, made their escape.

     * November 28, 1666.

The oppressions which these people had suffered, the delusions
under which they labored, and their inoffensive behavior during the
insurrection, made them the objects of compassion: yet were the king’s
ministers, particularly Sharpe, resolved to take severe vengeance. Ten
were hanged on one gibbet at Edinburgh; thirty-five before their own
doors in different places. These criminals might all have saved their
lives, if they would have renounced the covenant. The executions were
going on, when the king put a stop to them. He said, that blood enough
had already been shed; and he wrote a letter to the privy council, in
which he ordered, that such of the prisoners as should simply promise
to obey the laws for the future, should be set at liberty, and that
the incorrigible should be sent to the plantations.[*] This letter was
brought by Burnet, archbishop of Glasgow; but not being immediately
delivered to the council by Sharpe, the president,[**] one Maccail had
in the interval been put to the torture, under which he expired. He
seemed to die in an ecstasy of joy. “Farewell, sun, moon, and stars;
farewell, world and time; farewell, weak and frail body: welcome,
eternity; welcome, angels and saints; welcome, Savior of the world; and
welcome, God, the Judge of all!” Such were his last words: and these
animated speeches he uttered with an accent and manner which struck all
the bystanders with astonishment.

     * Burnet, p 237.

     * Wodrow’s History, vol. i. p. 255.

The settlement of Ireland, after the restoration, was a work of greater
difficulty than that of England, or even of Scotland. Not only the
power, during the former usurpations, had there been vested in the
king’s enemies; the whole property, in a manner, of the kingdom had also
been changed: and it became necessary to redress, but with as little
violence as possible, many grievous hardships and iniquities which were
there complained of.

The Irish Catholics had in 1648 concluded a treaty with Ormond, the
king’s lieutenant; in which they had stipulated pardon for their past
rebellion, and had engaged, under certain conditions, to assist the
royal cause: and though the violence of the priests and the bigotry
of the people had prevented, in a great measure, the execution of this
treaty, yet were there many, who, having strictly, at the hazard of
their lives, adhered to it, seemed on that account well entitled to
reap the fruits of their loyalty. Cromwell, having without distinction
expelled all the native Irish from the three provinces of Munster,
Leinster, and Ulster, had confined them to Connaught and the county
of Clare; and among those who had thus been forfeited, were many whose
innocence was altogether unquestionable. Several Protestants likewise,
and Ormond among the rest, had all along opposed the Irish rebellion;
yet having afterwards embraced the king’s cause against the parliament,
they were all of them attainted by Cromwell. And there were many
officers who had from the commencement of the insurrection served in
Ireland, and who, because they would not desert the king, had been
refused all their arrears by the English commonwealth.

To all these unhappy sufferers some justice seemed to be due: but the
difficulty was, to find the means of redressing such great and extensive
iniquities. Almost all the valuable parts of Ireland had been measured
out and divided, either to the adventurers, who had lent money to
the parliament for the suppression of the Irish rebellion, or to the
soldiers, who had received land in lieu of their arrears. These could
not be dispossessed, because they were the most powerful and only armed
part of Ireland; because it was requisite to favor them, in order to
support the Protestant and English interest in that kingdom; and because
they had generally, with a seeming zeal and alacrity, concurred in the
king’s restoration. The king, therefore, issued a proclamation, in which
he promised to maintain their settlement, and at the same time engaged
to give redress to the innocent sufferers. There was a quantity of land
as yet undivided in Ireland; and from this and some other funds, it was
thought possible for the king to fulfil both these engagements.

A court of claims was erected, consisting altogether of English
commissioners, who had no connection with any of the parties into which
Ireland was divided. Before these were laid four thousand claims of
persons craving restitution on account of their innocence; and the
commissioners had found leisure to examine only six hundred. It already
appeared, that if all these were to be restored, the funds, whence the
adventurers and soldiers must get reprisals, would fall short of giving
them any tolerable satisfaction. A great alarm and anxiety seized all
ranks of men: the hopes and fears of every party were excited: these
eagerly grasped at recovering their paternal inheritance; those were
resolute to maintain their new acquisitions.

The duke of Ormond was created lord lieutenant; being the only person
whose prudence and equity could compose such jarring interests. A
parliament was assembled at Dublin; and as the lower house was almost
entirely chosen by the soldiers and adventurers, who still kept
possession, it was extremely favorable to that interest. The house of
peers showed greater impartiality.

An insurrection was projected, together with a surprisal of the Castle
of Dublin, by some of the disbanded soldiers; but this design was
happily defeated by the vigilance of Ormond. Some of the criminals were
punished. Blood, the most desperate of them, escaped into England.

But affairs could not long remain in the confusion and uncertainty into
which they had fallen. All parties seemed willing to abate somewhat
of their pretensions, in order to attain some stability; and Ormond
interposed his authority for that purpose. The soldiers and adventurers
agreed to relinquish a third of their possessions; and as they had
purchased their lands at very low prices, they had reason to think
themselves favored by this composition. All those who had been attainted
on account of their adhering to the king, were restored; and some of the
innocent Irish. It was a hard situation that a man was obliged to prove
himself innocent, in order to recover possession of the estate which he
and his ancestors had ever enjoyed: but the hardship was augmented by
the difficult conditions annexed to this proof. If the person had ever
lived in the quarters of the rebels, he was not admitted to plead his
innocence; and he was, for that reason alone, supposed to have been a
rebel. The heinous guilt of the Irish nation made men the more readily
overlook any iniquity which might fall on individuals; and it
was considered that, though it be always the interest of all good
governments to prevent injustice, it is not always possible to remedy
it, after it has had a long course, and has been attended with great
successes.

Ireland began to attain a state of some composure, when it was disturbed
by a violent act passed by the English parliament, which prohibited the
importation of Irish cattle into England.[*]

     * In 1666.

Ormond remonstrated strongly against this law. He said, that the present
trade carried on between England and Ireland was extremely to the
advantage of the former kingdom, which received only provisions or rude
materials in return for every species of manufacture: that if the cattle
of Ireland were prohibited, the inhabitants of that island had no other
commodity by which they could pay England for their importations, and
must have recourse to other nations for a supply: that the industrious
inhabitants of England, if deprived of Irish provisions, which made
living cheap, would be obliged to augment the price of labor, and
thereby render their manufactures too dear to be exported to foreign
markets: that the indolent inhabitants of Ireland, finding provisions
fall almost to nothing, would never be induced to labor, but would
perpetuate to all generations their native sloth and barbarism: that
by cutting off almost entirely the trade between the kingdoms, all the
natural bands of union were dissolved, and nothing remained to keep the
Irish in their duty but force and violence: and that by reducing that
kingdom to extreme poverty, it would be even rendered incapable of
maintaining that military power, by which, during its well-grounded
discontents, it must necessarily be retained in subjection.

The king was so much convinced of the justness of these reasons, that he
used all his interest to oppose the bill; and he openly declared, that
he could not give his assent to it with a safe conscience. But the
commons were resolute in their purpose. Some of the rents of England
had fallen of late years, which had been ascribed entirely to the
importation of Irish cattle: several intrigues had contributed to
inflame that prejudice, particularly those of Buckingham and Ashley, who
were desirous of giving Ormond disturbance in his government: and the
spirit of tyranny, of which nations are as susceptible as individuals,
had extremely animated the English to exert their superiority over their
dependent state. No affair could be conducted with greater violence than
this was by the commons. They even went so far, in the preamble of the
bill, as to declare the importation of Irish cattle to be a nuisance. By
this expression they gave scope to their passion, and at the same time
barred the king’s prerogative, by which he might think himself entitled
to dispense with a law so full of injustice and bad policy. The lords
expunged the word; but as the king was sensible that no supply would be
given by the commons, unless they were gratified in their prejudices,
he was obliged both to employ his interest with the peers for making the
bill pass, and to give the royal assent to it. He could not, however,
forbear expressing his displeasure at the jealousy entertained against
him, and at the intention which the commons discovered of retrenching
his prerogative.

This law brought great distress for some time upon the Irish; but it has
occasioned their applying with greater industry to manufactures, and has
proved in the issue beneficial to that kingdom.





CHAPTER LXV.

[Illustration: 1-802-hyde-park.jpg  HYDE PARK]




CHARLES II.

{1668.} Since the restoration, England had attained a situation which
had never been experienced in any former period of her government,
and which seemed the only one that could fully insure, at once, her
tranquillity and her liberty: the king was in continual want of supply
from the parliament, and he seemed willing to accommodate himself
to that dependent situation. Instead of reviving those claims of
prerogative, so strenuously insisted on by his predecessors, Charles had
strictly confined himself within the limits of law, and had courted,
by every art of popularity, the affections of his subjects. Even
the severities, however blamable, which he had exercised against
nonconformists, are to be considered as expedients by which he strove to
ingratiate himself with that party which predominated in parliament.
But notwithstanding these promising appearances, there were many
circumstances which kept the government from resting steadily on that
bottom on which it was placed. The crown, having lost almost all its
ancient demesnes, relied entirely on voluntary grants of the people; and
the commons, not fully accustomed to this new situation, were not yet
disposed to supply, with sufficient liberality, the necessities of the
crown. They imitated too strictly the example of their predecessors in a
rigid frugality of public money; and neither sufficiently considered
the indigent condition of their prince, nor the general state of Europe,
where every nation, by its increase both of magnificence and force, had
made great additions to all public expenses. Some considerable sums,
indeed, were bestowed on Charles; and the patriots of that age,
tenacious of ancient maxims, loudly upbraided the commons with
prodigality; but if we may judge by the example of a later period, when
the government has become more regular, and the harmony of its parts has
been more happily adjusted, the parliaments of this reign seem rather to
have merited a contrary reproach.

The natural consequence of the poverty of the crown was besides feeble,
irregular transactions in foreign affairs, a continual uncertainty in
its domestic administration. No one could answer with any tolerable
assurance for the measures of the house of commons. Few of the members
were attached to the court by any other band than that of inclination.
Royalists indeed in their principles, but unexperienced in business,
they lay exposed to every rumor or insinuation; and were driven by
momentary gusts or currents, no less than the populace themselves. Even
the attempts made to gain an ascendant over them by offices, and, as
it is believed, by bribes and pensions, were apt to operate in a manner
contrary to what was intended by the ministers. The novelty of the
practice conveyed a general, and indeed a just alarm; while, at the same
time, the poverty of the crown rendered this influence very limited and
precarious.

The character of Charles was ill fitted to remedy those defects in the
constitution. He acted in the administration of public affairs, as if
government were a pastime, rather than a serious occupation; and, by
the uncertainty of his conduct he lost that authority which could alone
bestow constancy on the fluctuating resolutions of the parliament. His
expenses, too, which sometimes, perhaps, exceeded the proper bounds,
were directed more by inclination than by policy; and while they
increased his dependence on the parliament, they were not calculated
fully to satisfy either the interested or disinterested part of that
assembly.

The parliament met after a long adjournment, and the king promised
himself every thing from the attachment of the commons. All his late
measures had been calculated to acquire the good will of his people;
and, above all, the triple league, it was hoped, would be able to efface
all the disagreeable impressions left by the unhappy conclusion of the
Dutch war. But a new attempt made by the court, and a laudable one, too,
lost him for a time the effect of all these endeavors. Buckingham, who
was in great favor with the king, and carried on many intrigues among
the commons, had also endeavored to support connections with the
nonconformists; and he now formed a scheme, in concert with the lord
keeper, Sir Orlando Bridgeman, and the chief justice, Sir Matthew Hale,
two worthy patriots, to put an end to those severities under which
these religionists had so long labored. It was proposed to reconcile
the Presbyterians by a comprehension, and to grant a toleration to the
Independents and other sectaries Favor seems not, by this scheme, as
by others embraced during the present reign, to have been intended the
Catholics: yet were the zealous commons so disgusted, that they could
not be prevailed on even to give the king thanks for the triple
league, however laudable that measure was then, and has ever since been
esteemed. They immediately voted an address for a proclamation against
conventicles. Their request was complied with; but as the king still
dropped some hints of his desire to reconcile his Protestant subjects,
the commons passed a very unusual vote, that no man should bring into
the house any bill of that nature. The king in vain reiterated his
solicitations for supply; represented the necessity of equipping a
fleet; and even offered, that the money which they should grant should
be collected and issued for that purpose by commissioners appointed by
the house. Instead of complying, the commons voted an inquiry into all
the miscarriages during the late war; the slackening of sail after the
duke’s victory from false orders delivered by Brounker the miscarriage
at Bergen, the division of the fleet under Prince Rupert and Albemarle,
the disgrace at Chatham. Brounker was expelled the house, and ordered to
be impeached. Commissioner Pet, who had neglected orders issued for the
security of Chatham, met with the same fate. These impeachments were
never prosecuted. The house at length, having been indulged in all their
prejudices, were prevailed with to vote the king three hundred and ten
thousand pounds, by an imposition on wine and other liquors; after which
they were adjourned.

Public business, besides being retarded by the disgust of the commons
against the tolerating maxims of the court, met with obstructions this
session from a quarrel between the two houses. Skinner, a rich merchant
in London, having suffered some injuries from the East India Company,
laid the matter by petition before the house of lords, by whom he was
relieved in costs and damages to the amount of five thousand pounds.
The commons voted, that the lords, in taking cognizance of this affair,
originally, without any appeal from inferior courts, had acted in a
manner not agreeable to the laws of the land, and tending to deprive the
subject of the right, ease, and benefit due to him by these laws; and
that Skinner, in prosecuting the suit after this manner, had infringed
the privileges of the commons; for which offence they ordered him to be
taken into custody. Some conferences ensued between the houses where the
lords were tenacious of their right of judicature, and maintained, that
the method in which they had exercised it was quite regular. The commons
rose into a great ferment; and went so far as to vote, that “whoever
should be aiding or assisting in putting in execution the order or
sentence of the house of lords, in the case of Skinner against the East
India Company, should be deemed a betrayer of the rights and liberties
of the commons of England, and an infringer of the privileges of the
house of commons.” They rightly judged, that it would not be easy, after
this vote, to find any one who would venture to incur their indignation.
The proceedings indeed of the lords seem in this case to have been
unusual and without precedent.

{1669.} The king’s necessities obliged him again to assemble the
parliament, who showed some disposition to relieve him. The price,
however, which he must pay for this indulgence, was his yielding to
new laws against conventicles. His complaisance in this particular
contributed more to gain the commons, than all the pompous pretences
of supporting the triple alliance, that popular measure by which he
expected to make such advantage. The quarrel between the two houses was
revived; and as the commons had voted only four hundred thousand pounds,
with which the king was not satisfied, he thought proper, before they
had carried their vote into a law, to prorogue them. The only business
finished this short session, was the receiving of the report of the
committee appointed for examining the public accounts. On the first
inspection of this report, there appears a great sum, no less than a
million and a half, unaccounted for; and the natural inference is, that
the king had much abused the trust reposed in him by parliament But a
more accurate inspection of particulars serves, in a great measure,
to remove this imputation. The king indeed went so far as to tell the
parliament from the throne, “that he had fully informed himself of that
matter, and did affirm, that no part of those moneys which they had
given him had been diverted to other uses; but, on the contrary, besides
all those supplies, a very great sum had been raised out of his standing
revenue and credit, and a very great debt contracted; and all for the
war.” Though artificial pretences have often been employed by kings
in their speeches to parliament, and by none more than Charles, it is
somewhat difficult to suspect him of a direct lie and falsehood. He
must have had some reasons, and perhaps not unplausible ones, for this
affirmation, of which all his hearers, as they had the accounts lying
before them, were at that time competent judges.[*] [2]

     * See note B, at the end of the volume.

The method which all parliaments had hitherto followed, was to vote
a particular sum for the supply, without any distinction, or any
appropriation to particular services. So long as the demands of the
crown were small and casual, no great inconveniencies arose from this
practice. But as all the measures of government were now changed, it
must be confessed that, if the king made a just application of public
money, this inaccurate method of proceeding, by exposing him to
suspicion, was prejudicial to him. If he were inclined to act otherwise,
it was equally hurtful to the people. For these reasons, a contrary
practice, during all the late reigns, has constantly been followed by
the commons.

{1670.} When the parliament met after the prorogation, they entered anew
upon the business of supply, and granted the king an additional duty,
during eight years, of twelve pounds on each tun of Spanish wine
imported, eight on each tun of French. A law also passed, empowering him
to sell the fee-farm rents; the last remains of the demesnes, by which
the ancient kings of England had been supported. By this expedient, he
obtained some supply for his present necessities, but left the crown,
if possible, still more dependent than before. How much money might be
raised by these sales is uncertain; but it could not be near one million
eight hundred thousand pounds, the sum assigned by some writers.[*]

     * Mr. Carte, in his vindication of the Answer to the
     Bystander, (p 99,) says, that the sale of the fee-farm rents
     would not yield above one hundred thousand pounds; and his
     reasons appear well founded with regard to the
     interpretation of any part of the act.

The act against conventicles passed, and received the royal assent. It
bears the appearance of mitigating the former persecuting laws; but if
we may judge by the spirit which had broken out almost every session
during this parliament, it was not intended as any favor to the
nonconformists. Experience probably had taught, that laws over rigid and
severe could not be executed. By this act, the hearer in a conventicle
(that is, in a dissenting assembly, where more than five were present,
besides the family) was fined five shillings for the first offence, ten
for the second; the preacher, twenty pounds for the first offence,
forty for the second. The person in whose house the conventicle met, was
amerced a like sum with the preacher. One clause is remarkable; that if
any dispute should arise the judges should always explain the doubt in
the sense least favorable to conventicles, it being the intention of
parliament entirely to suppress them. Such was the zeal of the commons,
that they violated the

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