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 state. But the
Parliament was still the Cavalier Parliament, chosen in the
transport of loyalty which had followed the Restoration.
Nevertheless it soon became evident that no English legislature,
however loyal, would now consent to be merely what the
legislature had been under the Tudors. From the death of
Elizabeth to the eve of the civil war, the Puritans, who
predominated in the representative body, had been constantly, by
a dexterous use of the power of the purse, encroaching on the
province of the executive government. The gentlemen who, after
the Restoration, filled the Lower House, though they abhorred the
Puritan name, were well pleased to inherit the fruit of the
Puritan policy. They were indeed most willing to employ the power
which they possessed in the state for the purpose of making their
King mighty and honoured, both at home and abroad: but with the
power itself they were resolved not to part. The great English
revolution of the seventeenth century, that is to say, the
transfer of the supreme control of the executive administration
from the crown to the House of Commons, was, through the whole
long existence of this Parliament, proceeding noiselessly, but
rapidly and steadily. Charles, kept poor by his follies and
vices, wanted money. The Commons alone could legally grant him
money. They could not be prevented from putting their own price
on their grants. The price which they put on their grants was
this, that they should be allowed to interfere with every one of
the King's prerogatives, to wring from him his consent to laws
which he disliked, to break up cabinets, to dictate the course of
foreign policy, and even to direct the administration of war. To
the royal office, and the royal person, they loudly and sincerely
professed the strongest attachment. But to Clarendon they owed no
allegiance; and they fell on him as furiously as their
predecessors had fallen on Strafford. The minister's virtues and
vices alike contributed to his ruin. He was the ostensible head
of the administration, and was therefore held responsible even
for those acts which he had strongly, but vainly, opposed in
Council. He was regarded by the Puritans, and by all who pitied
them, as an implacable bigot, a second Laud, with much more than
Laud's understanding. He had on all occasions maintained that the
Act of indemnity ought to be strictly observed; and this part of
his conduct, though highly honourable to him, made him hateful to
all those Royalists who wished to repair their ruined fortunes by
suing the Roundheads for damages and mesne profits. The
Presbyterians of Scotland attributed to him the downfall of their
Church. The Papists of Ireland attributed to him the loss of
their lands. As father of the Duchess of York, he had an obvious
motive for wishing that there might be a barren Queen; and he was
therefore suspected of having purposely recommended one. The sale
of Dunkirk was justly imputed to him. For the war with Holland,
he was, with less justice, held accountable. His hot temper, his
arrogant deportment, the indelicate eagerness with which he
grasped at riches, the ostentation with which he squandered them,
his picture gallery, filled with masterpieces of Vandyke which
had once been the property of ruined Cavaliers, his palace, which
reared its long and stately front right opposite to the humbler
residence of our Kings, drew on him much deserved, and some
undeserved, censure. When the Dutch fleet was in the Thames, it
was against the Chancellor that the rage of the populace was
chiefly directed. His windows were broken; the trees of his
garden were cut down; and a gibbet was set up before his door.
But nowhere was he more detested than in the House of Commons. He
was unable to perceive that the time was fast approaching when
that House, if it continued to exist at all, must be supreme in
the state, when the management of that House would be the most
important department of politics, and when, without the help of
men possessing the ear of that House, it would be impossible to
carry on the government. He obstinately persisted in considering
the Parliament as a body in no respect differing from the
Parliament which had been sitting when, forty years before, he
first began to study law at the Temple. He did not wish to
deprive the legislature of those powers which were inherent in it
by the old constitution of the realm: but the new development of
those powers, though a development natural, inevitable, and to be
prevented only by utterly destroying the powers themselves,
disgusted and alarmed him. Nothing would have induced him to put
the great seal to a writ for raising shipmoney, or to give his
voice in Council for committing a member of Parliament to the
Tower, on account of words spoken in debate: but, when the
Commons began to inquire in what manner the money voted for the
war had been wasted, and to examine into the maladministration of
the navy, he flamed with indignation. Such inquiry, according to
him, was out of their province. He admitted that the House was a
most loyal assembly, that it had done good service to the crown,
and that its intentions were excellent. But, both in public and
in the closet, he, on every occasion, expressed his concern that
gentlemen so sincerely attached to monarchy should unadvisedly
encroach on the prerogative of the monarch. Widely as they
differed in spirit from the members of the Long Parliament, they
yet, he said, imitated that Parliament in meddling with matters
which lay beyond the sphere of the Estates of the realm, and
which were subject to the authority of the crown alone. The
country, he maintained, would never be well governed till the
knights of shires and the burgesses were content to be what their
predecessors had been in the days of Elizabeth. All the plans
which men more observant than himself of the signs of that time
proposed, for the purpose of maintaining a good understanding
between the Court and the Commons, he disdainfully rejected as
crude projects, inconsistent with the old polity of England.
Towards the young orators, who were rising to distinction and
authority in the Lower House, his deportment was ungracious: and
he succeeded in making them, with scarcely an exception, his
deadly enemies. Indeed one of his most serious faults was an
inordinate contempt for youth: and this contempt was the more
unjustifiable, because his own experience in English politics was
by no means proportioned to his age. For so great a part of his
life had been passed abroad that he knew less of that world in
which he found himself on his return than many who might have
been his sons.
For these reasons he was disliked by the Commons. For very
different reasons he was equally disliked by the Court. His
morals as well as his polities were those of an earlier
generation. Even when he was a young law student, living much
with men of wit and pleasure, his natural gravity and his
religious principles had to a great extent preserved him from the
contagion of fashionable debauchery; and he was by no means
likely, in advanced years and in declining health, to turn
libertine. On the vices of the young and gay he looked with an
aversion almost as bitter and contemptuous as that which he felt
for the theological errors of the sectaries. He missed no
opportunity of showing his scorn of the mimics, revellers, and
courtesans who crowded the palace; and the admonitions which he
addressed to the King himself were very sharp, and, what Charles
disliked still more, very long. Scarcely any voice was raised in
favour of a minister loaded with the double odium of faults which
roused the fury of the people, and of virtues which annoyed and
importuned the sovereign. Southampton was no more. Ormond
performed the duties of friendship manfully and faithfully, but
in vain. The Chancellor fell with a great ruin. The seal was
taken from him: the Commons impeached him: his head was not safe:
he fled from the country: an act was passed which doomed him to
perpetual exile; and those who had assailed and undermined him
began to struggle for the fragments of his power.
The sacrifice of Clarendon in some degree took off the edge of
the public appetite for revenge. Yet was the anger excited by the
profusion and negligence of the government, and by the
miscarriages of the late war, by no means extinguished. The
counsellors of Charles, with the fate of the Chancellor before
their eyes, were anxious for their own safety. They accordingly
advised their master to soothe the irritation which prevailed
both in the Parliament and throughout the country, and for that
end, to take a step which has no parallel in the history of the
House of Stuart, and which was worthy of the prudence and
magnanimity of Oliver.
We have now reached a point at which the history of the great
English revolution begins to be complicated with the history of
foreign politics. The power of Spain had, during many years, been
declining. She still, it is true held in Europe the Milanese and
the two Sicilies, Belgium, and Franche Comte. In America her
dominions still spread, on both sides of the equator, far beyond
the limits of the torrid zone. But this great body had been
smitten with palsy, and was not only incapable of giving
molestation to other states, but could not, without assistance,
repel aggression. France was now, beyond all doubt, the greatest
power in Europe. Her resources have, since those days, absolutely
increased, but have not increased so fast as the resources of
England. It must also be remembered that, a hundred and eighty
years ago, the empire of Russia, now a monarchy of the first
class, was as entirely out of the system of European politics as
Abyssinia or Siam, that the House of Brandenburg was then hardly
more powerful than the House of Saxony, and that the republic of
the United States had not then begun to exist. The weight of
France, therefore, though still very considerable, has relatively
diminished. Her territory was not in the days of Lewis the
Fourteenth quite so extensive as at present: but it was large,
compact, fertile, well placed both for attack and for defence,
situated in a happy climate, and inhabited by a brave, active,
and ingenious people. The state implicitly obeyed the direction
of a single mind. The great fiefs which, three hundred years
before, had been, in all but name, independent principalities,
had been annexed to the crown. Only a few old men could remember
the last meeting of the States General. The resistance which the
Huguenots, the nobles, and the parliaments had offered to the
kingly power, had been put down by the
Parliament was still the Cavalier Parliament, chosen in the
transport of loyalty which had followed the Restoration.
Nevertheless it soon became evident that no English legislature,
however loyal, would now consent to be merely what the
legislature had been under the Tudors. From the death of
Elizabeth to the eve of the civil war, the Puritans, who
predominated in the representative body, had been constantly, by
a dexterous use of the power of the purse, encroaching on the
province of the executive government. The gentlemen who, after
the Restoration, filled the Lower House, though they abhorred the
Puritan name, were well pleased to inherit the fruit of the
Puritan policy. They were indeed most willing to employ the power
which they possessed in the state for the purpose of making their
King mighty and honoured, both at home and abroad: but with the
power itself they were resolved not to part. The great English
revolution of the seventeenth century, that is to say, the
transfer of the supreme control of the executive administration
from the crown to the House of Commons, was, through the whole
long existence of this Parliament, proceeding noiselessly, but
rapidly and steadily. Charles, kept poor by his follies and
vices, wanted money. The Commons alone could legally grant him
money. They could not be prevented from putting their own price
on their grants. The price which they put on their grants was
this, that they should be allowed to interfere with every one of
the King's prerogatives, to wring from him his consent to laws
which he disliked, to break up cabinets, to dictate the course of
foreign policy, and even to direct the administration of war. To
the royal office, and the royal person, they loudly and sincerely
professed the strongest attachment. But to Clarendon they owed no
allegiance; and they fell on him as furiously as their
predecessors had fallen on Strafford. The minister's virtues and
vices alike contributed to his ruin. He was the ostensible head
of the administration, and was therefore held responsible even
for those acts which he had strongly, but vainly, opposed in
Council. He was regarded by the Puritans, and by all who pitied
them, as an implacable bigot, a second Laud, with much more than
Laud's understanding. He had on all occasions maintained that the
Act of indemnity ought to be strictly observed; and this part of
his conduct, though highly honourable to him, made him hateful to
all those Royalists who wished to repair their ruined fortunes by
suing the Roundheads for damages and mesne profits. The
Presbyterians of Scotland attributed to him the downfall of their
Church. The Papists of Ireland attributed to him the loss of
their lands. As father of the Duchess of York, he had an obvious
motive for wishing that there might be a barren Queen; and he was
therefore suspected of having purposely recommended one. The sale
of Dunkirk was justly imputed to him. For the war with Holland,
he was, with less justice, held accountable. His hot temper, his
arrogant deportment, the indelicate eagerness with which he
grasped at riches, the ostentation with which he squandered them,
his picture gallery, filled with masterpieces of Vandyke which
had once been the property of ruined Cavaliers, his palace, which
reared its long and stately front right opposite to the humbler
residence of our Kings, drew on him much deserved, and some
undeserved, censure. When the Dutch fleet was in the Thames, it
was against the Chancellor that the rage of the populace was
chiefly directed. His windows were broken; the trees of his
garden were cut down; and a gibbet was set up before his door.
But nowhere was he more detested than in the House of Commons. He
was unable to perceive that the time was fast approaching when
that House, if it continued to exist at all, must be supreme in
the state, when the management of that House would be the most
important department of politics, and when, without the help of
men possessing the ear of that House, it would be impossible to
carry on the government. He obstinately persisted in considering
the Parliament as a body in no respect differing from the
Parliament which had been sitting when, forty years before, he
first began to study law at the Temple. He did not wish to
deprive the legislature of those powers which were inherent in it
by the old constitution of the realm: but the new development of
those powers, though a development natural, inevitable, and to be
prevented only by utterly destroying the powers themselves,
disgusted and alarmed him. Nothing would have induced him to put
the great seal to a writ for raising shipmoney, or to give his
voice in Council for committing a member of Parliament to the
Tower, on account of words spoken in debate: but, when the
Commons began to inquire in what manner the money voted for the
war had been wasted, and to examine into the maladministration of
the navy, he flamed with indignation. Such inquiry, according to
him, was out of their province. He admitted that the House was a
most loyal assembly, that it had done good service to the crown,
and that its intentions were excellent. But, both in public and
in the closet, he, on every occasion, expressed his concern that
gentlemen so sincerely attached to monarchy should unadvisedly
encroach on the prerogative of the monarch. Widely as they
differed in spirit from the members of the Long Parliament, they
yet, he said, imitated that Parliament in meddling with matters
which lay beyond the sphere of the Estates of the realm, and
which were subject to the authority of the crown alone. The
country, he maintained, would never be well governed till the
knights of shires and the burgesses were content to be what their
predecessors had been in the days of Elizabeth. All the plans
which men more observant than himself of the signs of that time
proposed, for the purpose of maintaining a good understanding
between the Court and the Commons, he disdainfully rejected as
crude projects, inconsistent with the old polity of England.
Towards the young orators, who were rising to distinction and
authority in the Lower House, his deportment was ungracious: and
he succeeded in making them, with scarcely an exception, his
deadly enemies. Indeed one of his most serious faults was an
inordinate contempt for youth: and this contempt was the more
unjustifiable, because his own experience in English politics was
by no means proportioned to his age. For so great a part of his
life had been passed abroad that he knew less of that world in
which he found himself on his return than many who might have
been his sons.
For these reasons he was disliked by the Commons. For very
different reasons he was equally disliked by the Court. His
morals as well as his polities were those of an earlier
generation. Even when he was a young law student, living much
with men of wit and pleasure, his natural gravity and his
religious principles had to a great extent preserved him from the
contagion of fashionable debauchery; and he was by no means
likely, in advanced years and in declining health, to turn
libertine. On the vices of the young and gay he looked with an
aversion almost as bitter and contemptuous as that which he felt
for the theological errors of the sectaries. He missed no
opportunity of showing his scorn of the mimics, revellers, and
courtesans who crowded the palace; and the admonitions which he
addressed to the King himself were very sharp, and, what Charles
disliked still more, very long. Scarcely any voice was raised in
favour of a minister loaded with the double odium of faults which
roused the fury of the people, and of virtues which annoyed and
importuned the sovereign. Southampton was no more. Ormond
performed the duties of friendship manfully and faithfully, but
in vain. The Chancellor fell with a great ruin. The seal was
taken from him: the Commons impeached him: his head was not safe:
he fled from the country: an act was passed which doomed him to
perpetual exile; and those who had assailed and undermined him
began to struggle for the fragments of his power.
The sacrifice of Clarendon in some degree took off the edge of
the public appetite for revenge. Yet was the anger excited by the
profusion and negligence of the government, and by the
miscarriages of the late war, by no means extinguished. The
counsellors of Charles, with the fate of the Chancellor before
their eyes, were anxious for their own safety. They accordingly
advised their master to soothe the irritation which prevailed
both in the Parliament and throughout the country, and for that
end, to take a step which has no parallel in the history of the
House of Stuart, and which was worthy of the prudence and
magnanimity of Oliver.
We have now reached a point at which the history of the great
English revolution begins to be complicated with the history of
foreign politics. The power of Spain had, during many years, been
declining. She still, it is true held in Europe the Milanese and
the two Sicilies, Belgium, and Franche Comte. In America her
dominions still spread, on both sides of the equator, far beyond
the limits of the torrid zone. But this great body had been
smitten with palsy, and was not only incapable of giving
molestation to other states, but could not, without assistance,
repel aggression. France was now, beyond all doubt, the greatest
power in Europe. Her resources have, since those days, absolutely
increased, but have not increased so fast as the resources of
England. It must also be remembered that, a hundred and eighty
years ago, the empire of Russia, now a monarchy of the first
class, was as entirely out of the system of European politics as
Abyssinia or Siam, that the House of Brandenburg was then hardly
more powerful than the House of Saxony, and that the republic of
the United States had not then begun to exist. The weight of
France, therefore, though still very considerable, has relatively
diminished. Her territory was not in the days of Lewis the
Fourteenth quite so extensive as at present: but it was large,
compact, fertile, well placed both for attack and for defence,
situated in a happy climate, and inhabited by a brave, active,
and ingenious people. The state implicitly obeyed the direction
of a single mind. The great fiefs which, three hundred years
before, had been, in all but name, independent principalities,
had been annexed to the crown. Only a few old men could remember
the last meeting of the States General. The resistance which the
Huguenots, the nobles, and the parliaments had offered to the
kingly power, had been put down by the
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