The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1, Thomas Babington Macaulay [ebook pc reader txt] 📗
![](/uploads/posts/books/1/9/3/5/thomas-babington-macaulay-the-history-of-england-from-the-accession-of-james-the-second-volume-1.jpg)
- Author: Thomas Babington Macaulay
Book online «The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1, Thomas Babington Macaulay [ebook pc reader txt] 📗». Author Thomas Babington Macaulay
to plead before any tribunal.
For these things history must hold the King himself chiefly
responsible. From the time of his third Parliament he was his own
prime minister. Several persons, however, whose temper and
talents were suited to his purposes, were at the head of
different departments of the administration.
Thomas Wentworth, successively created Lord Wentworth and Earl of
Strafford, a man of great abilities, eloquence, and courage, but
of a cruel and imperious nature, was the counsellor most trusted
in political and military affairs. He had been one of the most
distinguished members of the opposition, and felt towards those
whom he had deserted that peculiar malignity which has, in all
ages, been characteristic of apostates. He perfectly understood
the feelings, the resources, and the policy of the party to which
he had lately belonged, and had formed a vast and deeply
meditated scheme which very nearly confounded even the able
tactics of the statesmen by whom the House of Commons had been
directed. To this scheme, in his confidential correspondence, he
gave the expressive name of Thorough. His object was to do in
England all, and more than all, that Richelieu was doing in
France; to make Charles a monarch as absolute as any on the
Continent; to put the estates and the personal liberty of the
whole people at the disposal of the crown; to deprive the courts
of law of all independent authority, even in ordinary questions
of civil right between man and man; and to punish with merciless
rigour all who murmured at the acts of the government, or who
applied, even in the most decent and regular manner, to any
tribunal for relief against those acts.12
This was his end; and he distinctly saw in what manner alone this
end could be attained. There was, in truth, about all his notions
a clearness, a coherence, a precision, which, if he had not been
pursuing an object pernicious to his country and to his kind,
would have justly entitled him to high admiration. He saw that
there was one instrument, and only one, by which his vast and
daring projects could be carried into execution. That instrument
was a standing army. To the forming of such an army, therefore,
he directed all the energy of his strong mind. In Ireland, where
he was viceroy, he actually succeeded in establishing a military
despotism, not only over the aboriginal population, but also over
the English colonists, and was able to boast that, in that
island, the King was as absolute as any prince in the whole world
could be.13
The ecclesiastical administration was, in the meantime,
principally directed by William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury.
Of all the prelates of the Anglican Church, Laud had departed
farthest from the principles of the Reformation, and had drawn
nearest to Rome. His theology was more remote than even that of
the Dutch Arminians from the theology of the Calvinists. His
passion for ceremonies, his reverence for holidays, vigils, and
sacred places, his ill concealed dislike of the marriage of
ecclesiastics, the ardent and not altogether disinterested zeal
with which he asserted the claims of the clergy to the reverence
of the laity, would have made him an object of aversion to the
Puritans, even if he had used only legal and gentle means for the
attainment of his ends. But his understanding was narrow; and his
commerce with the world had been small. He was by nature rash,
irritable, quick to feel for his own dignity, slow to sympathise
with the sufferings of others, and prone to the error, common in
superstitious men, of mistaking his own peevish and malignant
moods for emotions of pious zeal. Under his direction every
corner of the realm was subjected to a constant and minute
inspection. Every little congregation of separatists was tracked
out and broken up. Even the devotions of private families could
not escape the vigilance of his spies. Such fear did his rigour
inspire that the deadly hatred of the Church, which festered in
innumerable bosoms, was generally disguised under an outward show
of conformity. On the very eve of troubles, fatal to himself and
to his order, the Bishops of several extensive dioceses were able
to report to him that not a single dissenter was to be found
within their jurisdiction.14
The tribunals afforded no protection to the subject against the
civil and ecclesiastical tyranny of that period. The judges of
the common law, holding their situations during the pleasure of
the King, were scandalously obsequious. Yet, obsequious as they
were, they were less ready and less efficient instruments of
arbitrary power than a class of courts, the memory of which is
still, after the lapse of more than two centuries, held in deep
abhorrence by the nation. Foremost among these courts in power
and in infamy were the Star Chamber and the High Commission, the
former a political, the latter a religious inquisition. Neither
was a part of the old constitution of England. The Star Chamber
had been remodelled, and the High Commission created, by the
Tudors. The power which these boards had possessed before the
accession of Charles had been extensive and formidable, but had
been small indeed when compared with that which they now usurped.
Guided chiefly by the violent spirit of the primate, and free
from the control of Parliament, they displayed a rapacity, a
violence, a malignant energy, which had been unknown to any
former age. The government was able through their
instrumentality, to fine, imprison, pillory, and mutilate without
restraint. A separate council which sate at York, under the
presidency of Wentworth, was armed, in defiance of law, by a pure
act of prerogative, with almost boundless power over the northern
counties. All these tribunals insulted and defied the authority
of Westminster Hall, and daily committed excesses which the most
distinguished Royalists have warmly condemned. We are informed by
Clarendon that there was hardly a man of note in the realm who
had not personal experience of the harshness and greediness of
the Star Chamber, that the High Commission had so conducted
itself that it had scarce a friend left in the kingdom, and that
the tyranny of the Council of York had made the Great Charter a
dead letter on the north of the Trent.
The government of England was now, in all points but one, as
despotic as that of France. But that one point was all important.
There was still no standing army. There was therefore, no
security that the whole fabric of tyranny might not be subverted
in a single day; and, if taxes were imposed by the royal
authority for the support of an army, it was probable that there
would be an immediate and irresistible explosion. This was the
difficulty which more than any other perplexed Wentworth. The
Lord Keeper Finch, in concert with other lawyers who were
employed by the government, recommended an expedient which was
eagerly adopted. The ancient princes of England, as they called
on the inhabitants of the counties near Scotland to arm and array
themselves for the defence of the border, had sometimes called on
the maritime counties to furnish ships for the defence of the
coast. In the room of ships money had sometimes been accepted.
This old practice it was now determined, after a long interval,
not only to revive but to extend. Former princes had raised
shipmoney only in time of war: it was now exacted in a time of
profound peace. Former princes, even in the most perilous wars,
had raised shipmoney only along the coasts: it was now exacted
from the inland shires. Former princes had raised shipmoney only
for the maritime defence of the country: It was now exacted, by
the admission of the Royalists themselves. With the object, not
of maintaining a navy, but of furnishing the King with supplies
which might be increased at his discretion to any amount, and
expended at his discretion for any purpose.
The whole nation was alarmed and incensed. John Hampden, an
opulent and well born gentleman of Buckinghamshire, highly
considered in his own neighbourhood, but as yet little known to
the kingdom generally, had the courage to step forward, to
confront the whole power of the government, and take on himself
the cost and the risk of disputing the prerogative to which the
King laid claim. The case was argued before the judges in the
Exchequer Chamber. So strong were the arguments against the
pretensions of the crown that, dependent and servile as the
judges were, the majority against Hampden was the smallest
possible. Still there was a majority. The interpreters of the law
had pronounced that one great and productive tax might be imposed
by the royal authority. Wentworth justly observed that it was
impossible to vindicate their judgment except by reasons directly
leading to a conclusion which they had not ventured to draw. If
money might legally be raised without the consent of Parliament
for the support of a fleet, it was not easy to deny that money
might, without consent of Parliament, be legally raised for the
support of an army.
The decision of the judges increased the irritation of the
people. A century earlier, irritation less serious would have
produced a general rising. But discontent did not now so readily
as in an earlier age take the form of rebellion. The nation had
been long steadily advancing in wealth and in civilisation. Since
the great northern Earls took up arms against Elizabeth seventy
years had elapsed; and during those seventy years there had been
no civil war. Never, during the whole existence of the English
nation, had so long a period passed without intestine
hostilities. Men had become accustomed to the pursuits of
peaceful industry, and, exasperated as they were, hesitated long
before they drew the sword.
This was the conjuncture at which the liberties of the nation
were in the greatest peril. The opponents of the government began
to despair of the destiny of their country; and many looked to
the American wilderness as the only asylum in which they could
enjoy civil and spiritual freedom. There a few resolute Puritans,
who, in the cause of their religion, feared neither the rage of
the ocean nor the hardships of uncivilised life, neither the
fangs of savage beasts nor the tomahawks of more savage men, had
built, amidst the primeval forests, villages which are now great
and opulent cities, but which have, through every change,
retained some trace of the character derived from their founders.
The government regarded these infant colonies with aversion, and
attempted violently to stop the stream of emigration, but could
not prevent the population of New England from being largely
recruited by stouthearted and Godfearing men from every part of
the old England. And now Wentworth exulted in the near prospect
of Thorough. A few years
For these things history must hold the King himself chiefly
responsible. From the time of his third Parliament he was his own
prime minister. Several persons, however, whose temper and
talents were suited to his purposes, were at the head of
different departments of the administration.
Thomas Wentworth, successively created Lord Wentworth and Earl of
Strafford, a man of great abilities, eloquence, and courage, but
of a cruel and imperious nature, was the counsellor most trusted
in political and military affairs. He had been one of the most
distinguished members of the opposition, and felt towards those
whom he had deserted that peculiar malignity which has, in all
ages, been characteristic of apostates. He perfectly understood
the feelings, the resources, and the policy of the party to which
he had lately belonged, and had formed a vast and deeply
meditated scheme which very nearly confounded even the able
tactics of the statesmen by whom the House of Commons had been
directed. To this scheme, in his confidential correspondence, he
gave the expressive name of Thorough. His object was to do in
England all, and more than all, that Richelieu was doing in
France; to make Charles a monarch as absolute as any on the
Continent; to put the estates and the personal liberty of the
whole people at the disposal of the crown; to deprive the courts
of law of all independent authority, even in ordinary questions
of civil right between man and man; and to punish with merciless
rigour all who murmured at the acts of the government, or who
applied, even in the most decent and regular manner, to any
tribunal for relief against those acts.12
This was his end; and he distinctly saw in what manner alone this
end could be attained. There was, in truth, about all his notions
a clearness, a coherence, a precision, which, if he had not been
pursuing an object pernicious to his country and to his kind,
would have justly entitled him to high admiration. He saw that
there was one instrument, and only one, by which his vast and
daring projects could be carried into execution. That instrument
was a standing army. To the forming of such an army, therefore,
he directed all the energy of his strong mind. In Ireland, where
he was viceroy, he actually succeeded in establishing a military
despotism, not only over the aboriginal population, but also over
the English colonists, and was able to boast that, in that
island, the King was as absolute as any prince in the whole world
could be.13
The ecclesiastical administration was, in the meantime,
principally directed by William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury.
Of all the prelates of the Anglican Church, Laud had departed
farthest from the principles of the Reformation, and had drawn
nearest to Rome. His theology was more remote than even that of
the Dutch Arminians from the theology of the Calvinists. His
passion for ceremonies, his reverence for holidays, vigils, and
sacred places, his ill concealed dislike of the marriage of
ecclesiastics, the ardent and not altogether disinterested zeal
with which he asserted the claims of the clergy to the reverence
of the laity, would have made him an object of aversion to the
Puritans, even if he had used only legal and gentle means for the
attainment of his ends. But his understanding was narrow; and his
commerce with the world had been small. He was by nature rash,
irritable, quick to feel for his own dignity, slow to sympathise
with the sufferings of others, and prone to the error, common in
superstitious men, of mistaking his own peevish and malignant
moods for emotions of pious zeal. Under his direction every
corner of the realm was subjected to a constant and minute
inspection. Every little congregation of separatists was tracked
out and broken up. Even the devotions of private families could
not escape the vigilance of his spies. Such fear did his rigour
inspire that the deadly hatred of the Church, which festered in
innumerable bosoms, was generally disguised under an outward show
of conformity. On the very eve of troubles, fatal to himself and
to his order, the Bishops of several extensive dioceses were able
to report to him that not a single dissenter was to be found
within their jurisdiction.14
The tribunals afforded no protection to the subject against the
civil and ecclesiastical tyranny of that period. The judges of
the common law, holding their situations during the pleasure of
the King, were scandalously obsequious. Yet, obsequious as they
were, they were less ready and less efficient instruments of
arbitrary power than a class of courts, the memory of which is
still, after the lapse of more than two centuries, held in deep
abhorrence by the nation. Foremost among these courts in power
and in infamy were the Star Chamber and the High Commission, the
former a political, the latter a religious inquisition. Neither
was a part of the old constitution of England. The Star Chamber
had been remodelled, and the High Commission created, by the
Tudors. The power which these boards had possessed before the
accession of Charles had been extensive and formidable, but had
been small indeed when compared with that which they now usurped.
Guided chiefly by the violent spirit of the primate, and free
from the control of Parliament, they displayed a rapacity, a
violence, a malignant energy, which had been unknown to any
former age. The government was able through their
instrumentality, to fine, imprison, pillory, and mutilate without
restraint. A separate council which sate at York, under the
presidency of Wentworth, was armed, in defiance of law, by a pure
act of prerogative, with almost boundless power over the northern
counties. All these tribunals insulted and defied the authority
of Westminster Hall, and daily committed excesses which the most
distinguished Royalists have warmly condemned. We are informed by
Clarendon that there was hardly a man of note in the realm who
had not personal experience of the harshness and greediness of
the Star Chamber, that the High Commission had so conducted
itself that it had scarce a friend left in the kingdom, and that
the tyranny of the Council of York had made the Great Charter a
dead letter on the north of the Trent.
The government of England was now, in all points but one, as
despotic as that of France. But that one point was all important.
There was still no standing army. There was therefore, no
security that the whole fabric of tyranny might not be subverted
in a single day; and, if taxes were imposed by the royal
authority for the support of an army, it was probable that there
would be an immediate and irresistible explosion. This was the
difficulty which more than any other perplexed Wentworth. The
Lord Keeper Finch, in concert with other lawyers who were
employed by the government, recommended an expedient which was
eagerly adopted. The ancient princes of England, as they called
on the inhabitants of the counties near Scotland to arm and array
themselves for the defence of the border, had sometimes called on
the maritime counties to furnish ships for the defence of the
coast. In the room of ships money had sometimes been accepted.
This old practice it was now determined, after a long interval,
not only to revive but to extend. Former princes had raised
shipmoney only in time of war: it was now exacted in a time of
profound peace. Former princes, even in the most perilous wars,
had raised shipmoney only along the coasts: it was now exacted
from the inland shires. Former princes had raised shipmoney only
for the maritime defence of the country: It was now exacted, by
the admission of the Royalists themselves. With the object, not
of maintaining a navy, but of furnishing the King with supplies
which might be increased at his discretion to any amount, and
expended at his discretion for any purpose.
The whole nation was alarmed and incensed. John Hampden, an
opulent and well born gentleman of Buckinghamshire, highly
considered in his own neighbourhood, but as yet little known to
the kingdom generally, had the courage to step forward, to
confront the whole power of the government, and take on himself
the cost and the risk of disputing the prerogative to which the
King laid claim. The case was argued before the judges in the
Exchequer Chamber. So strong were the arguments against the
pretensions of the crown that, dependent and servile as the
judges were, the majority against Hampden was the smallest
possible. Still there was a majority. The interpreters of the law
had pronounced that one great and productive tax might be imposed
by the royal authority. Wentworth justly observed that it was
impossible to vindicate their judgment except by reasons directly
leading to a conclusion which they had not ventured to draw. If
money might legally be raised without the consent of Parliament
for the support of a fleet, it was not easy to deny that money
might, without consent of Parliament, be legally raised for the
support of an army.
The decision of the judges increased the irritation of the
people. A century earlier, irritation less serious would have
produced a general rising. But discontent did not now so readily
as in an earlier age take the form of rebellion. The nation had
been long steadily advancing in wealth and in civilisation. Since
the great northern Earls took up arms against Elizabeth seventy
years had elapsed; and during those seventy years there had been
no civil war. Never, during the whole existence of the English
nation, had so long a period passed without intestine
hostilities. Men had become accustomed to the pursuits of
peaceful industry, and, exasperated as they were, hesitated long
before they drew the sword.
This was the conjuncture at which the liberties of the nation
were in the greatest peril. The opponents of the government began
to despair of the destiny of their country; and many looked to
the American wilderness as the only asylum in which they could
enjoy civil and spiritual freedom. There a few resolute Puritans,
who, in the cause of their religion, feared neither the rage of
the ocean nor the hardships of uncivilised life, neither the
fangs of savage beasts nor the tomahawks of more savage men, had
built, amidst the primeval forests, villages which are now great
and opulent cities, but which have, through every change,
retained some trace of the character derived from their founders.
The government regarded these infant colonies with aversion, and
attempted violently to stop the stream of emigration, but could
not prevent the population of New England from being largely
recruited by stouthearted and Godfearing men from every part of
the old England. And now Wentworth exulted in the near prospect
of Thorough. A few years
Free e-book «The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1, Thomas Babington Macaulay [ebook pc reader txt] 📗» - read online now
Similar e-books:
Comments (0)