The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1, Thomas Babington Macaulay [ebook pc reader txt] 📗

venture, at so critical a moment, to

reject a bill which was in the highest degree popular.


On the same day the press of England became for a short time

free. In old times printers had been strictly controlled by the

Court of Star Chamber. The Long Parliament had abolished the Star

Chamber, but had, in spite of the philosophical and eloquent

expostulation of Milton, established and maintained a censorship.

Soon after the Restoration, an Act had been passed which

prohibited the printing of unlicensed books; and it had been

provided that this Act should continue in force till the end of

the first session of the next Parliament. That moment had now

arrived; and the King, in the very act of dismissing the House,

emancipated the Press.


Shortly after the prorogation came a dissolution and another

general election. The zeal and strength of the opposition were at

the height. The cry for the Exclusion Bill was louder than ever,

and with this cry was mingled another cry, which fired the blood

of the multitude, but which was heard with regret and alarm by

all judicious friends of freedom. Not only the rights of the Duke

of York, an avowed Papist, but those of his two daughters,

sincere and zealous Protestants, were assailed. It was

confidently affirmed that the eldest natural son of the King had

been born in wedlock, and was lawful heir to the crown.


Charles, while a wanderer on the Continent, had fallen in at the

Hague with Lucy Walters, a Welsh girl of great beauty, but of

weak understanding and dissolute manners. She became his

mistress, and presented him with a son. A suspicious lover might

have had his doubts; for the lady had several admirers, and was

not supposed to be cruel to any. Charles, however, readily took

her word, and poured forth on little James Crofts, as the boy was

then called, an overflowing fondness, such as seemed hardly to

belong to that cool and careless nature. Soon after the

restoration, the young favourite, who had learned in France the

exercises then considered necessary to a fine gentleman, made his

appearance at Whitehall. He was lodged in the palace, attended by

pages, and permitted to enjoy several distinctions which had till

then been confined to princes of the blood royal. He was married,

while still in tender youth, to Anne Scott, heiress of the noble

house of Buccleuch. He took her name, and received with her hand

possession of her ample domains. The estate which he had acquired

by this match was popularly estimated at not less than ten

thousand pounds a year. Titles, and favours more substantial than

titles, were lavished on him. He was made Duke of Monmouth in

England, Duke of Buccleuch in Scotland, a Knight of the Garter,

Master of the Horse, Commander of the first troop of Life Guards,

Chief Justice of Eyre south of Trent, and Chancellor of the

University of Cambridge. Nor did he appear to the public unworthy

of his high fortunes. His countenance was eminently handsome and

engaging, his temper sweet, his manners polite and affable.

Though a libertine, he won the hearts of the Puritans. Though he

was known to have been privy to the shameful attack on Sir John

Coventry, he easily obtained the forgiveness of the Country

Party. Even austere moralists owned that, in such a court, strict

conjugal fidelity was scarcely to be expected from one who, while

a child, had been married to another child. Even patriots were

willing to excuse a headstrong boy for visiting with immoderate

vengeance an insult offered to his father. And soon the stain

left by loose amours and midnight brawls was effaced by

honourable exploits. When Charles and Lewis united their forces

against Holland, Monmouth commanded the English auxiliaries who

were sent to the Continent, and approved himself a gallant

soldier and a not unintelligent officer. On his return he found

himself the most popular man in the kingdom. Nothing was withheld

from him but the crown; nor did even the crown seem to be

absolutely beyond his reach. The distinction which had most

injudiciously been made between him and the highest nobles had

produced evil consequences. When a boy he had been invited to put

on his hat in the presence chamber, while Howards and Seymours

stood uncovered round him. When foreign princes died, he had

mourned for them in the long purple cloak, which no other

subject, except the Duke of York and Prince Rupert, was permitted

to wear. It was natural that these things should lead him to

regard himself as a legitimate prince of the House of Stuart.

Charles, even at a ripe age, was devoted to his pleasures and

regardless of his dignity. It could hardly be thought incredible

that he should at twenty have secretly gone through the form of

espousing a lady whose beauty had fascinated him. While Monmouth

was still a child, and while the Duke of York still passed for a

Protestant, it was rumoured throughout the country, and even in

circles which ought to have been well informed, that the King had

made Lucy Walters his wife, and that, if every one had his right,

her son would be Prince of Wales. Much was said of a certain

black box which, according to the vulgar belief, contained the

contract of marriage. When Monmouth had returned from the Low

Countries with a high character for valour and conduct, and when

the Duke of York was known to be a member of a church detested by

the great majority of the nation, this idle story became

important. For it there was not the slightest evidence. Against

it there was the solemn asseveration of the King, made before his

Council, and by his order communicated to his people. But the

multitude, always fond of romantic adventures, drank in eagerly

the tale of the secret espousals and the black box. Some chiefs

of the opposition acted on this occasion as they acted with

respect to the more odious fables of Oates, and countenanced a

story which they must have despised. The interest which the

populace took in him whom they regarded as the champion of the

true religion, and the rightful heir of the British throne, was

kept up by every artifice. When Monmouth arrived in London at

midnight, the watchmen were ordered by the magistrates to

proclaim the joyful event through the streets of the City: the

people left their beds: bonfires were lighted: the windows were

illuminated: the churches were opened; and a merry peal rose from

all the steeples. When he travelled, he was everywhere received

with not less pomp, and with far more enthusiasm, than had been

displayed when Kings had made progresses through the realm. He

was escorted from mansion to mansion by long cavalcades of armed

gentlemen and yeomen. Cities poured forth their whole population

to receive him. Electors thronged round him, to assure him that

their votes were at his disposal. To such a height were his

pretensions carried, that he not only exhibited on his escutcheon

the lions of England and the lilies of France without the baton

sinister under which, according to the law of heraldry, they

should have been debruised in token of his illegitimate birth,

but ventured to touch for the king's evil. At the same time he

neglected no art of condescension by which the love of the

multitude could be conciliated. He stood godfather to the

children of the peasantry, mingled in every rustic sport,

wrestled, played at quarterstaff, and won footraces in his boots

against fleet runners in shoes.


It is a curious circumstance that, at two of the greatest

conjunctures in our history, the chiefs of the Protestant party

should have committed the same error, and should by that error

have greatly endangered their country and their religion. At the

death of Edward the Sixth they set up the Lady Jane, without any

show of birthright, in opposition, not only to their enemy Mary,

but also to Elizabeth, the true hope of England and of the

Reformation. Thus the most respectable Protestants, with

Elizabeth at their head, were forced to make common cause with

the Papists. In the same manner, a hundred and thirty years

later, a part of the opposition, by setting up Monmouth as a

claimant of the crown, attacked the rights, not only of James,

whom they justly regarded as an implacable foe of their faith and

their liberties, but also of the Prince and Princess of Orange,

who were eminently marked out, both by situation and by personal

qualities, as the defenders of all free governments and of all

reformed churches.


The folly of this course speedily became manifest. At present the

popularity of Monmouth constituted a great part of the strength

of the opposition. The elections went against the court: the day

fixed for the meeting of the Houses drew near; and it was

necessary that the King should determine on some line of conduct.

Those who advised him discerned the first faint signs of a change

of public feeling, and hoped that, by merely postponing the

conflict, he would be able to secure the victory. He therefore,

without even asking the opinion of the Council of the Thirty,

resolved to prorogue the new Parliament before it entered on

business. At the same time the Duke of York, who had returned

from Brussels, was ordered to retire to Scotland, and was placed

at the head of the administration of that kingdom.


Temple's plan of government was now avowedly abandoned and very

soon forgotten. The Privy Council again became what it had been.

Shaftesbury, and those who were connected with him in politics

resigned their seats. Temple himself, as was his wont in unquiet

times, retired to his garden and his library. Essex quitted the

board of Treasury, and cast in his lot with the opposition. But

Halifax, disgusted and alarmed by the violence of his old

associates, and Sunderland, who never quitted place while he

could hold it, remained in the King's service.


In consequence of the resignations which took place at this

conjuncture, the way to greatness was left clear to a new set of

aspirants. Two statesmen, who subsequently rose to the highest

eminence which a British subject can reach, soon began to attract

a large share of the public attention. These were Lawrence Hyde

and Sidney Godolphin.


Lawrence Hyde was the second son of the Chancellor Clarendon, and

was brother of the first Duchess of York. He had excellent parts,

which had been improved by parliamentary and diplomatic

experience; but the infirmities of his temper detracted much from

the effective strength of his abilities. Negotiator and courtier

as he was, he never learned the art of governing or of concealing

his emotions. When prosperous, he was insolent and boastful: when

he sustained a check, his undisguised