The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 by Thomas Babington Macaulay (diy ebook reader .txt) π
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the project. It was found that to adjust the
details would be a work of time; and the King's wants were so
pressing that he thought it necessary to quicken the movements of
the House by a gentle exhortation to speed. The plan of taxing
buildings was therefore relinquished; and new duties were imposed
for a term of five years on foreign silks, linens, and
spirits.371
The Tories of the Lower House proceeded to introduce what they
called a bill for the preservation of the King's person and
government. They proposed that it should be high treason to say
that Monmouth was legitimate, to utter any words tending to bring
the person or government of the sovereign into hatred or
contempt, or to make any motion in Parliament for changing the
order of succession. Some of these provisions excited general
disgust and alarm. The Whigs, few and weak as they were,
attempted to rally, and found themselves reinforced by a
considerable number of moderate and sensible Cavaliers. Words, it
was said, may easily be misunderstood by a dull man. They may be
easily misconstrued by a knave. What was spoken metaphorically
may be apprehended literally. What was spoken ludicrously may be
apprehended seriously. A particle, a tense, a mood, an emphasis,
may make the whole difference between guilt and innocence. The
Saviour of mankind himself, in whose blameless life malice could
find no acts to impeach, had been called in question for words
spoken. False witnesses had suppressed a syllable which would
have made it clear that those words were figurative, and had thus
furnished the Sanhedrim with a pretext under which the foulest of
all judicial murders had been perpetrated. With such an example
on record, who could affirm that, if mere talk were made a
substantive treason, the most loyal subject would be safe? These
arguments produced so great an effect that in the committee
amendments were introduced which greatly mitigated the severity
of the bill. But the clause which made it high treason in a
member of Parliament to propose the exclusion of a prince of the
blood seems to have raised no debate, and was retained. That
clause was indeed altogether unimportant, except as a proof of
the ignorance and inexperience of the hotheaded Royalists who
thronged the House of Commons. Had they learned the first
rudiments of legislation, they would have known that the
enactment to which they attached so much value would be
superfluous while the Parliament was disposed to maintain the
order of succession, and would be repealed as soon as there was a
Parliament bent on changing the order of succession.372
The bill, as amended, was passed and carried up to the Lords, but
did not become law. The King had obtained from the Parliament all
the pecuniary assistance that he could expect; and he conceived
that, while rebellion was actually raging, the loyal nobility and
gentry would be of more use in their counties than at
Westminster. He therefore hurried their deliberations to a close,
and, on the second of July, dismissed them. On the same day the
royal assent was given to a law reviving that censorship of the
press which had terminated in 1679. This object was affected by a
few words at the end of a miscellaneous statute which continued
several expiring acts. The courtiers did not think that they had
gained a triumph. The Whigs did not utter a murmur. Neither in
the Lords nor in the Commons was there any division, or even, as
far as can now be learned, any debate on a question which would,
in our age, convulse the whole frame of society. In truth, the
change was slight and almost imperceptible; for, since the
detection of the Rye House plot, the liberty of unlicensed
printing had existed only in name. During many months scarcely
one Whig pamphlet had been published except by stealth; and by
stealth such pamphlets might be published still.373
The Houses then rose. They were not prorogued, but only
adjourned, in order that, when they should reassemble, they might
take up their business in the exact state in which they had left
it.374
While the Parliament was devising sharp laws against Monmouth and
his partisans, he found at Taunton a reception which might well
encourage him to hope that his enterprise would have a prosperous
issue. Taunton, like most other towns in the south of England,
was, in that age, more important than at present. Those towns
have not indeed declined. On the contrary, they are, with very
few exceptions, larger and richer, better built and better
peopled, than in the seventeenth century. But, though they have
positively advanced, they have relatively gone back. They have
been far outstripped in wealth and population by the great
manufacturing and commercial cities of the north, cities which,
in the time of the Stuarts, were but beginning to be known as
seats of industry. When Monmouth marched into Taunton it was an
eminently prosperous place. Its markets were plentifully
supplied. It was a celebrated seat of the woollen manufacture.
The people boasted that they lived in a land flowing with milk
and honey. Nor was this language held only by partial natives;
for every stranger who climbed the graceful tower of St. Mary
Magdalene owned that he saw beneath him the most fertile of
English valleys. It was a country rich with orchards and green
pastures, among which were scattered, in gay abundance, manor
houses, cottages, and village spires. The townsmen had long
leaned towards Presbyterian divinity and Whig politics. In the
great civil war Taunton had, through all vicissitudes, adhered to
the Parliament, had been twice closely besieged by Goring, and
had been twice defended with heroic valour by Robert Blake,
afterwards the renowned Admiral of the Commonwealth. Whole
streets had been burned down by the mortars and grenades of the
Cavaliers. Food had been so scarce that the resolute governor had
announced his intention of putting the garrison on rations of
horse flesh. But the spirit of the town had never been subdued
either by fire or by hunger.375
The Restoration had produced no effect on the temper of the
Taunton men. They had still continued to celebrate the
anniversary of the happy day on which the siege laid to their
town by the royal army had been raised; and their stubborn
attachment to the old cause had excited so much fear and
resentment at Whitehall that, by a royal order, their moat had
been filled up, and their wall demolished to the foundation.376
The puritanical spirit had been kept up to the height among them
by the precepts and example of one of the most celebrated of the
dissenting clergy, Joseph Alleine. Alleine was the author of a
tract, entitled, An Alarm to the Unconverted, which is still
popular both in England and in America. From the gaol to which he
was consigned by the victorious Cavaliers, he addressed to his
loving friends at Taunton many epistles breathing the spirit of a
truly heroic piety. His frame soon sank under the effects of
study, toil, and persecution: but his memory was long cherished
with exceeding love and reverence by those whom he had exhorted
and catechised.377
The children of the men who, forty years before, had manned the
ramparts of Taunton against the Royalists, now welcomed Monmouth
with transports of joy and affection. Every door and window was
adorned with wreaths of flowers. No man appeared in the streets
without wearing in his hat a green bough, the badge of the
popular cause. Damsels of the best families in the town wove
colours for the insurgents. One flag in particular was
embroidered gorgeously with emblems of royal dignity, and was
offered to Monmouth by a train of young girls. He received the
gift with the winning courtesy which distinguished him. The lady
who headed the procession presented him also with a small Bible
of great price. He took it with a show of reverence. "I come," he
said, "to defend the truths contained in this book, and to seal
them, if it must be so, with my blood."378
But while Monmouth enjoyed the applause of the multitude, he
could not but perceive, with concern and apprehension, that the
higher classes were. with scarcely an exception, hostile to his
undertaking, and that no rising had taken place except in the
counties where he had himself appeared. He had been assured by
agents, who professed to have derived their information from
Wildman, that the whole Whig aristocracy was eager to take arms.
Nevertheless more than a week had now elapsed since the blue
standard had been set up at Lyme. Day labourers, small farmers,
shopkeepers, apprentices, dissenting preachers, had flocked to
the rebel camp: but not a single peer, baronet, or knight, not a
single member of the House of Commons, and scarcely any esquire
of sufficient note to have ever been in the commission of the
peace, had joined the invaders. Ferguson, who, ever since the
death of Charles, had been Monmouth's evil angel, had a
suggestion ready. The Duke had put himself into a false position
by declining the royal title. Had he declared himself sovereign
of England, his cause would have worn a show of legality. At
present it was impossible to reconcile his Declaration with the
principles of the constitution. It was clear that either Monmouth
or his uncle was rightful King. Monmouth did not venture to
pronounce himself the rightful King, and yet denied that his
uncle was so. Those who fought for James fought for the only
person who ventured to claim the throne, and were therefore
clearly in their duty, according to the laws of the realm. Those
who fought for Monmouth fought for some unknown polity, which was
to be set up by a convention not yet in existence. None could
wonder that men of high rank and ample fortune stood aloof from
an enterprise which threatened with destruction that system in
the permanence of which they were deeply interested. If the Duke
would assert his legitimacy and assume the crown, he would at
once remove this objection. The question would cease to be a
question between the old constitution and a new constitution. It
would be merely a question of hereditary right between two
princes.
On such grounds as these Ferguson, almost immediately after the
landing, had earnestly pressed the Duke to proclaim himself King;
and Grey had seconded Ferguson. Monmouth had been very willing to
take this advice; but Wade and other republicans had been
refractory; and their chief, with his usual pliability, had
yielded to their arguments. At Taunton the subject was revived.
Monmouth talked in private with the dissentients, assured them
that he saw no other way of obtaining the support of any portion
of the aristocracy, and succeeded in extorting their reluctant
consent. On the
details would be a work of time; and the King's wants were so
pressing that he thought it necessary to quicken the movements of
the House by a gentle exhortation to speed. The plan of taxing
buildings was therefore relinquished; and new duties were imposed
for a term of five years on foreign silks, linens, and
spirits.371
The Tories of the Lower House proceeded to introduce what they
called a bill for the preservation of the King's person and
government. They proposed that it should be high treason to say
that Monmouth was legitimate, to utter any words tending to bring
the person or government of the sovereign into hatred or
contempt, or to make any motion in Parliament for changing the
order of succession. Some of these provisions excited general
disgust and alarm. The Whigs, few and weak as they were,
attempted to rally, and found themselves reinforced by a
considerable number of moderate and sensible Cavaliers. Words, it
was said, may easily be misunderstood by a dull man. They may be
easily misconstrued by a knave. What was spoken metaphorically
may be apprehended literally. What was spoken ludicrously may be
apprehended seriously. A particle, a tense, a mood, an emphasis,
may make the whole difference between guilt and innocence. The
Saviour of mankind himself, in whose blameless life malice could
find no acts to impeach, had been called in question for words
spoken. False witnesses had suppressed a syllable which would
have made it clear that those words were figurative, and had thus
furnished the Sanhedrim with a pretext under which the foulest of
all judicial murders had been perpetrated. With such an example
on record, who could affirm that, if mere talk were made a
substantive treason, the most loyal subject would be safe? These
arguments produced so great an effect that in the committee
amendments were introduced which greatly mitigated the severity
of the bill. But the clause which made it high treason in a
member of Parliament to propose the exclusion of a prince of the
blood seems to have raised no debate, and was retained. That
clause was indeed altogether unimportant, except as a proof of
the ignorance and inexperience of the hotheaded Royalists who
thronged the House of Commons. Had they learned the first
rudiments of legislation, they would have known that the
enactment to which they attached so much value would be
superfluous while the Parliament was disposed to maintain the
order of succession, and would be repealed as soon as there was a
Parliament bent on changing the order of succession.372
The bill, as amended, was passed and carried up to the Lords, but
did not become law. The King had obtained from the Parliament all
the pecuniary assistance that he could expect; and he conceived
that, while rebellion was actually raging, the loyal nobility and
gentry would be of more use in their counties than at
Westminster. He therefore hurried their deliberations to a close,
and, on the second of July, dismissed them. On the same day the
royal assent was given to a law reviving that censorship of the
press which had terminated in 1679. This object was affected by a
few words at the end of a miscellaneous statute which continued
several expiring acts. The courtiers did not think that they had
gained a triumph. The Whigs did not utter a murmur. Neither in
the Lords nor in the Commons was there any division, or even, as
far as can now be learned, any debate on a question which would,
in our age, convulse the whole frame of society. In truth, the
change was slight and almost imperceptible; for, since the
detection of the Rye House plot, the liberty of unlicensed
printing had existed only in name. During many months scarcely
one Whig pamphlet had been published except by stealth; and by
stealth such pamphlets might be published still.373
The Houses then rose. They were not prorogued, but only
adjourned, in order that, when they should reassemble, they might
take up their business in the exact state in which they had left
it.374
While the Parliament was devising sharp laws against Monmouth and
his partisans, he found at Taunton a reception which might well
encourage him to hope that his enterprise would have a prosperous
issue. Taunton, like most other towns in the south of England,
was, in that age, more important than at present. Those towns
have not indeed declined. On the contrary, they are, with very
few exceptions, larger and richer, better built and better
peopled, than in the seventeenth century. But, though they have
positively advanced, they have relatively gone back. They have
been far outstripped in wealth and population by the great
manufacturing and commercial cities of the north, cities which,
in the time of the Stuarts, were but beginning to be known as
seats of industry. When Monmouth marched into Taunton it was an
eminently prosperous place. Its markets were plentifully
supplied. It was a celebrated seat of the woollen manufacture.
The people boasted that they lived in a land flowing with milk
and honey. Nor was this language held only by partial natives;
for every stranger who climbed the graceful tower of St. Mary
Magdalene owned that he saw beneath him the most fertile of
English valleys. It was a country rich with orchards and green
pastures, among which were scattered, in gay abundance, manor
houses, cottages, and village spires. The townsmen had long
leaned towards Presbyterian divinity and Whig politics. In the
great civil war Taunton had, through all vicissitudes, adhered to
the Parliament, had been twice closely besieged by Goring, and
had been twice defended with heroic valour by Robert Blake,
afterwards the renowned Admiral of the Commonwealth. Whole
streets had been burned down by the mortars and grenades of the
Cavaliers. Food had been so scarce that the resolute governor had
announced his intention of putting the garrison on rations of
horse flesh. But the spirit of the town had never been subdued
either by fire or by hunger.375
The Restoration had produced no effect on the temper of the
Taunton men. They had still continued to celebrate the
anniversary of the happy day on which the siege laid to their
town by the royal army had been raised; and their stubborn
attachment to the old cause had excited so much fear and
resentment at Whitehall that, by a royal order, their moat had
been filled up, and their wall demolished to the foundation.376
The puritanical spirit had been kept up to the height among them
by the precepts and example of one of the most celebrated of the
dissenting clergy, Joseph Alleine. Alleine was the author of a
tract, entitled, An Alarm to the Unconverted, which is still
popular both in England and in America. From the gaol to which he
was consigned by the victorious Cavaliers, he addressed to his
loving friends at Taunton many epistles breathing the spirit of a
truly heroic piety. His frame soon sank under the effects of
study, toil, and persecution: but his memory was long cherished
with exceeding love and reverence by those whom he had exhorted
and catechised.377
The children of the men who, forty years before, had manned the
ramparts of Taunton against the Royalists, now welcomed Monmouth
with transports of joy and affection. Every door and window was
adorned with wreaths of flowers. No man appeared in the streets
without wearing in his hat a green bough, the badge of the
popular cause. Damsels of the best families in the town wove
colours for the insurgents. One flag in particular was
embroidered gorgeously with emblems of royal dignity, and was
offered to Monmouth by a train of young girls. He received the
gift with the winning courtesy which distinguished him. The lady
who headed the procession presented him also with a small Bible
of great price. He took it with a show of reverence. "I come," he
said, "to defend the truths contained in this book, and to seal
them, if it must be so, with my blood."378
But while Monmouth enjoyed the applause of the multitude, he
could not but perceive, with concern and apprehension, that the
higher classes were. with scarcely an exception, hostile to his
undertaking, and that no rising had taken place except in the
counties where he had himself appeared. He had been assured by
agents, who professed to have derived their information from
Wildman, that the whole Whig aristocracy was eager to take arms.
Nevertheless more than a week had now elapsed since the blue
standard had been set up at Lyme. Day labourers, small farmers,
shopkeepers, apprentices, dissenting preachers, had flocked to
the rebel camp: but not a single peer, baronet, or knight, not a
single member of the House of Commons, and scarcely any esquire
of sufficient note to have ever been in the commission of the
peace, had joined the invaders. Ferguson, who, ever since the
death of Charles, had been Monmouth's evil angel, had a
suggestion ready. The Duke had put himself into a false position
by declining the royal title. Had he declared himself sovereign
of England, his cause would have worn a show of legality. At
present it was impossible to reconcile his Declaration with the
principles of the constitution. It was clear that either Monmouth
or his uncle was rightful King. Monmouth did not venture to
pronounce himself the rightful King, and yet denied that his
uncle was so. Those who fought for James fought for the only
person who ventured to claim the throne, and were therefore
clearly in their duty, according to the laws of the realm. Those
who fought for Monmouth fought for some unknown polity, which was
to be set up by a convention not yet in existence. None could
wonder that men of high rank and ample fortune stood aloof from
an enterprise which threatened with destruction that system in
the permanence of which they were deeply interested. If the Duke
would assert his legitimacy and assume the crown, he would at
once remove this objection. The question would cease to be a
question between the old constitution and a new constitution. It
would be merely a question of hereditary right between two
princes.
On such grounds as these Ferguson, almost immediately after the
landing, had earnestly pressed the Duke to proclaim himself King;
and Grey had seconded Ferguson. Monmouth had been very willing to
take this advice; but Wade and other republicans had been
refractory; and their chief, with his usual pliability, had
yielded to their arguments. At Taunton the subject was revived.
Monmouth talked in private with the dissentients, assured them
that he saw no other way of obtaining the support of any portion
of the aristocracy, and succeeded in extorting their reluctant
consent. On the
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