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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longer dared to show their faces in the streets, and were
scarcely safe within their own dwellings. Temporary provision was
made for the government: writs were issued for a general
election; and then that memorable Parliament, which had, in the
course of twenty eventful years, experienced every variety of
fortune, which had triumphed over its sovereign, which had been
enslaved and degraded by its servants, which had been twice
ejected and twice restored, solemnly decreed its own dissolution.
The result of the elections was such as might have been expected
from the temper of the nation. The new House of Commons
consisted, with few exceptions, of persons friendly to the royal
family. The Presbyterians formed the majority.
That there would be a restoration now seemed almost certain; but
whether there would be a peaceable restoration was matter of
painful doubt. The soldiers were in a gloomy and savage mood.
They hated the title of King. They hated the name of Stuart. They
hated Presbyterianism much, and Prelacy more. They saw with
bitter indignation that the close of their long domination was
approaching, and that a life of inglorious toil and penury was
before them. They attributed their ill fortune to the weakness of
some generals, and to the treason of others. One hour of their
beloved Oliver might even now restore the glory which had
departed. Betrayed, disunited, and left without any chief in whom
they could confide, they were yet to be dreaded. It was no light
thing to encounter the rage and despair of fifty thousand
fighting men, whose backs no enemy had ever seen. Monk, and those
with whom he acted, were well aware that the crisis was most
perilous. They employed every art to soothe and to divide the
discontented warriors. At the same time vigorous preparation was
made for a conflict. The army of Scotland, now quartered in
London, was kept in good humour by bribes, praises, and promises.
The wealthy citizens grudged nothing to a redcoat, and were
indeed so liberal of their best wine, that warlike saints were
sometimes seen in a condition not very honourable either to their
religious or to their military character. Some refractory
regiments Monk ventured to disband. In the mean time the greatest
exertions were made by the provisional government, with the
strenuous aid of the whole body of the gentry and magistracy, to
organise the militia. In every county the trainbands were held
ready to march; and this force cannot be estimated at less than a
hundred and twenty thousand men. In Hyde Park twenty thousand
citizens, well armed and accoutred, passed in review, and showed
a spirit which justified the hope that, in case of need, they
would fight manfully for their shops and firesides. The fleet was
heartily with the nation. It was a stirring time, a time of
anxiety, yet of hope. The prevailing opinion was that England
would be delivered, but not without a desperate and bloody
struggle, and that the class which had so long ruled by the sword
would perish by the sword.
Happily the dangers of a conflict were averted. There was indeed
one moment of extreme peril. Lambert escaped from his
confinement, and called his comrades to arms. The flame of civil
war was actually rekindled; but by prompt and vigorous exertion
it was trodden out before it had time to spread. The luckless
imitator of Cromwell was again a prisoner. The failure of his
enterprise damped the spirit of the soldiers; and they sullenly
resigned themselves to their fate.
The new Parliament, which, having been called without the royal
writ, is more accurately described as a Convention, met at
Westminster. The Lords repaired to the hall, from which they had,
during more than eleven years, been excluded by force. Both
Houses instantly invited the King to return to his country. He
was proclaimed with pomp never before known. A gallant fleet
convoyed him from Holland to the coast of Kent. When he landed,
the cliffs of Dover were covered by thousands of gazers, among
whom scarcely one could be found who was not weeping with
delight. The journey to London was a continued triumph. The whole
road from Rochester was bordered by booths and tents, and looked
like an interminable fair. Everywhere flags were flying, bells
and music sounding, wine and ale flowing in rivers to the health
of him whose return was the return of peace, of law, and of
freedom. But in the midst of the general joy, one spot presented
a dark and threatening aspect. On Blackheath the army was drawn
up to welcome the sovereign. He smiled, bowed, and extended his
hand graciously to the lips of the colonels and majors. But all
his courtesy was vain. The countenances of the soldiers were sad
and lowering; and had they given way to their feelings, the
festive pageant of which they reluctantly made a part would have
had a mournful and bloody end. But there was no concert among
them. Discord and defection had left them no confidence in their
chiefs or in each other. The whole array of the City of London
was under arms. Numerous companies of militia had assembled from
various parts of the realm, under the command of loyal noblemen
and gentlemen, to welcome the King. That great day closed in
peace; and the restored wanderer reposed safe in the palace of
his ancestors.
CHAPTER II.
THE history of England, during the seventeenth century, is the
history of the transformation of a limited monarchy, constituted
after the fashion of the middle ages, into a limited monarchy
suited to that more advanced state of society in which the public
charges can no longer be borne by the estates of the crown, and
in which the public defence can no longer be entrusted to a
feudal militia. We have seen that the politicians who were at the
head of the Long Parliament made, in 1642, a great effort to
accomplish this change by transferring, directly and formally, to
the estates of the realm the choice of ministers, the command of
the army, and the superintendence of the whole executive
administration. This scheme was, perhaps, the best that could
then be contrived: but it was completely disconcerted by the
course which the civil war took. The Houses triumphed, it is
true; but not till after such a struggle as made it necessary for
them to call into existence a power which they could not control,
and which soon began to domineer over all orders and all parties:
During a few years, the evils inseparable from military
government were, in some degree, mitigated by the wisdom and
magnanimity of the great man who held the supreme command. But,
when the sword, which he had wielded, with energy indeed, but
with energy always guided by good sense and generally tempered by
good nature, had passed to captains who possessed neither his
abilities nor his virtues. it seemed too probable that order and
liberty would perish in one ignominious ruin.
That ruin was happily averted. It has been too much the practice
of writers zealous for freedom to represent the Restoration as a
disastrous event, and to condemn the folly or baseness of that
Convention, which recalled the royal family without exacting new
securities against maladministration. Those who hold this
language do not comprehend the real nature of the crisis which
followed the deposition of Richard Cromwell. England was in
imminent danger of falling under the tyranny of a succession of
small men raised up and pulled down by military caprice. To
deliver the country from the domination of the soldiers was the
first object of every enlightened patriot: but it was an object
which, while the soldiers were united, the most sanguine could
scarcely expect to attain. On a sudden a gleam of hope appeared.
General was opposed to general, army to army. On the use which
might be made of one auspicious moment depended the future
destiny of the nation. Our ancestors used that moment well. They
forgot old injuries, waved petty scruples, adjourned to a more
convenient season all dispute about the reforms which our
institutions needed, and stood together, Cavaliers and
Roundheads, Episcopalians and Presbyterians, in firm union, for
the old laws of the land against military despotism. The exact
partition of power among King, Lords, and Commons might well be
postponed till it had been decided whether England should be
governed by King, Lords, and Commons, or by cuirassiers and
pikemen. Had the statesmen of the Convention taken a different
course, had they held long debates on the principles of
government, had they drawn up a new constitution and sent it to
Charles, had conferences been opened, had couriers been passing
and repassing during some weeks between Westminster and the
Netherlands, with projects and counterprojects, replies by Hyde
and rejoinders by Prynne, the coalition on which the public
safety depended would have been dissolved: the Presbyterians and
Royalists would certainly have quarrelled: the military factions
might possibly have been reconciled; and the misjudging friends
of liberty might long have regretted, under a rule worse than
that of the worst Stuart, the golden opportunity which had been
suffered to escape.
The old civil polity was, therefore, by the general consent of
both the great parties, reestablished. It was again exactly what
it had been when Charles the First, eighteen years before,
withdrew from his capital. All those acts of the Long Parliament
which had received the royal assent were admitted to be still in
full force. One fresh concession, a concession in which the
Cavaliers were even more deeply interested than the Roundheads,
was easily obtained from the restored King. The military tenure
of land had been originally created as a means of national
defence. But in the course of ages whatever was useful in the
institution had disappeared; and nothing was left but ceremonies
and grievances. A landed proprietor who held an estate under the
crown by knight service,-and it was thus that most of the soil
of England was held,-had to pay a large fine on coming to his
property. He could not alienate one acre without purchasing a
license. When he died, if his domains descended to an infant, the
sovereign was guardian, and was not only entitled to great part
of the rents during the minority, but could require the ward,
under heavy penalties, to marry any person of suitable rank. The
chief bait which attracted a needy sycophant to the court was the
hope of obtaining as the reward of servility and flattery, a
royal letter to an heiress. These abuses had perished with the
monarchy. That they should not revive with it was the wish of
every landed gentleman in the kingdom. They were, therefore,
solemnly abolished by statute; and no relic of the ancient
tenures in chivalry was allowed to remain except those honorary
scarcely safe within their own dwellings. Temporary provision was
made for the government: writs were issued for a general
election; and then that memorable Parliament, which had, in the
course of twenty eventful years, experienced every variety of
fortune, which had triumphed over its sovereign, which had been
enslaved and degraded by its servants, which had been twice
ejected and twice restored, solemnly decreed its own dissolution.
The result of the elections was such as might have been expected
from the temper of the nation. The new House of Commons
consisted, with few exceptions, of persons friendly to the royal
family. The Presbyterians formed the majority.
That there would be a restoration now seemed almost certain; but
whether there would be a peaceable restoration was matter of
painful doubt. The soldiers were in a gloomy and savage mood.
They hated the title of King. They hated the name of Stuart. They
hated Presbyterianism much, and Prelacy more. They saw with
bitter indignation that the close of their long domination was
approaching, and that a life of inglorious toil and penury was
before them. They attributed their ill fortune to the weakness of
some generals, and to the treason of others. One hour of their
beloved Oliver might even now restore the glory which had
departed. Betrayed, disunited, and left without any chief in whom
they could confide, they were yet to be dreaded. It was no light
thing to encounter the rage and despair of fifty thousand
fighting men, whose backs no enemy had ever seen. Monk, and those
with whom he acted, were well aware that the crisis was most
perilous. They employed every art to soothe and to divide the
discontented warriors. At the same time vigorous preparation was
made for a conflict. The army of Scotland, now quartered in
London, was kept in good humour by bribes, praises, and promises.
The wealthy citizens grudged nothing to a redcoat, and were
indeed so liberal of their best wine, that warlike saints were
sometimes seen in a condition not very honourable either to their
religious or to their military character. Some refractory
regiments Monk ventured to disband. In the mean time the greatest
exertions were made by the provisional government, with the
strenuous aid of the whole body of the gentry and magistracy, to
organise the militia. In every county the trainbands were held
ready to march; and this force cannot be estimated at less than a
hundred and twenty thousand men. In Hyde Park twenty thousand
citizens, well armed and accoutred, passed in review, and showed
a spirit which justified the hope that, in case of need, they
would fight manfully for their shops and firesides. The fleet was
heartily with the nation. It was a stirring time, a time of
anxiety, yet of hope. The prevailing opinion was that England
would be delivered, but not without a desperate and bloody
struggle, and that the class which had so long ruled by the sword
would perish by the sword.
Happily the dangers of a conflict were averted. There was indeed
one moment of extreme peril. Lambert escaped from his
confinement, and called his comrades to arms. The flame of civil
war was actually rekindled; but by prompt and vigorous exertion
it was trodden out before it had time to spread. The luckless
imitator of Cromwell was again a prisoner. The failure of his
enterprise damped the spirit of the soldiers; and they sullenly
resigned themselves to their fate.
The new Parliament, which, having been called without the royal
writ, is more accurately described as a Convention, met at
Westminster. The Lords repaired to the hall, from which they had,
during more than eleven years, been excluded by force. Both
Houses instantly invited the King to return to his country. He
was proclaimed with pomp never before known. A gallant fleet
convoyed him from Holland to the coast of Kent. When he landed,
the cliffs of Dover were covered by thousands of gazers, among
whom scarcely one could be found who was not weeping with
delight. The journey to London was a continued triumph. The whole
road from Rochester was bordered by booths and tents, and looked
like an interminable fair. Everywhere flags were flying, bells
and music sounding, wine and ale flowing in rivers to the health
of him whose return was the return of peace, of law, and of
freedom. But in the midst of the general joy, one spot presented
a dark and threatening aspect. On Blackheath the army was drawn
up to welcome the sovereign. He smiled, bowed, and extended his
hand graciously to the lips of the colonels and majors. But all
his courtesy was vain. The countenances of the soldiers were sad
and lowering; and had they given way to their feelings, the
festive pageant of which they reluctantly made a part would have
had a mournful and bloody end. But there was no concert among
them. Discord and defection had left them no confidence in their
chiefs or in each other. The whole array of the City of London
was under arms. Numerous companies of militia had assembled from
various parts of the realm, under the command of loyal noblemen
and gentlemen, to welcome the King. That great day closed in
peace; and the restored wanderer reposed safe in the palace of
his ancestors.
CHAPTER II.
THE history of England, during the seventeenth century, is the
history of the transformation of a limited monarchy, constituted
after the fashion of the middle ages, into a limited monarchy
suited to that more advanced state of society in which the public
charges can no longer be borne by the estates of the crown, and
in which the public defence can no longer be entrusted to a
feudal militia. We have seen that the politicians who were at the
head of the Long Parliament made, in 1642, a great effort to
accomplish this change by transferring, directly and formally, to
the estates of the realm the choice of ministers, the command of
the army, and the superintendence of the whole executive
administration. This scheme was, perhaps, the best that could
then be contrived: but it was completely disconcerted by the
course which the civil war took. The Houses triumphed, it is
true; but not till after such a struggle as made it necessary for
them to call into existence a power which they could not control,
and which soon began to domineer over all orders and all parties:
During a few years, the evils inseparable from military
government were, in some degree, mitigated by the wisdom and
magnanimity of the great man who held the supreme command. But,
when the sword, which he had wielded, with energy indeed, but
with energy always guided by good sense and generally tempered by
good nature, had passed to captains who possessed neither his
abilities nor his virtues. it seemed too probable that order and
liberty would perish in one ignominious ruin.
That ruin was happily averted. It has been too much the practice
of writers zealous for freedom to represent the Restoration as a
disastrous event, and to condemn the folly or baseness of that
Convention, which recalled the royal family without exacting new
securities against maladministration. Those who hold this
language do not comprehend the real nature of the crisis which
followed the deposition of Richard Cromwell. England was in
imminent danger of falling under the tyranny of a succession of
small men raised up and pulled down by military caprice. To
deliver the country from the domination of the soldiers was the
first object of every enlightened patriot: but it was an object
which, while the soldiers were united, the most sanguine could
scarcely expect to attain. On a sudden a gleam of hope appeared.
General was opposed to general, army to army. On the use which
might be made of one auspicious moment depended the future
destiny of the nation. Our ancestors used that moment well. They
forgot old injuries, waved petty scruples, adjourned to a more
convenient season all dispute about the reforms which our
institutions needed, and stood together, Cavaliers and
Roundheads, Episcopalians and Presbyterians, in firm union, for
the old laws of the land against military despotism. The exact
partition of power among King, Lords, and Commons might well be
postponed till it had been decided whether England should be
governed by King, Lords, and Commons, or by cuirassiers and
pikemen. Had the statesmen of the Convention taken a different
course, had they held long debates on the principles of
government, had they drawn up a new constitution and sent it to
Charles, had conferences been opened, had couriers been passing
and repassing during some weeks between Westminster and the
Netherlands, with projects and counterprojects, replies by Hyde
and rejoinders by Prynne, the coalition on which the public
safety depended would have been dissolved: the Presbyterians and
Royalists would certainly have quarrelled: the military factions
might possibly have been reconciled; and the misjudging friends
of liberty might long have regretted, under a rule worse than
that of the worst Stuart, the golden opportunity which had been
suffered to escape.
The old civil polity was, therefore, by the general consent of
both the great parties, reestablished. It was again exactly what
it had been when Charles the First, eighteen years before,
withdrew from his capital. All those acts of the Long Parliament
which had received the royal assent were admitted to be still in
full force. One fresh concession, a concession in which the
Cavaliers were even more deeply interested than the Roundheads,
was easily obtained from the restored King. The military tenure
of land had been originally created as a means of national
defence. But in the course of ages whatever was useful in the
institution had disappeared; and nothing was left but ceremonies
and grievances. A landed proprietor who held an estate under the
crown by knight service,-and it was thus that most of the soil
of England was held,-had to pay a large fine on coming to his
property. He could not alienate one acre without purchasing a
license. When he died, if his domains descended to an infant, the
sovereign was guardian, and was not only entitled to great part
of the rents during the minority, but could require the ward,
under heavy penalties, to marry any person of suitable rank. The
chief bait which attracted a needy sycophant to the court was the
hope of obtaining as the reward of servility and flattery, a
royal letter to an heiress. These abuses had perished with the
monarchy. That they should not revive with it was the wish of
every landed gentleman in the kingdom. They were, therefore,
solemnly abolished by statute; and no relic of the ancient
tenures in chivalry was allowed to remain except those honorary
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