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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people should
have been inclined to apprehend a return of the times of her whom
they called Bloody Mary.
Thus the nation was in such a temper that the smallest spark
might raise a flame. At this conjuncture fire was set in two
places at once to the vast mass of combustible matter; and in a
moment the whole was in a blaze.
The French court, which knew Danby to be its mortal enemy,
artfully contrived to ruin him by making him pass for its friend.
Lewis, by the instrumentality of Ralph Montague, a faithless and
shameless man who had resided in France as minister from England,
laid before the House of Commons proofs that the Treasurer had
been concerned in an application made by the Court of Whitehall
to the Court of Versailles for a sum of money. This discovery
produced its natural effect. The Treasurer was, in truth, exposed
to the vengeance of Parliament, not on account of his
delinquencies, but on account of his merits; not because he had
been an accomplice in a criminal transaction, but because he had
been a most unwilling and unserviceable accomplice. But of the
circumstances, which have, in the judgment of posterity, greatly
extenuated his fault, his contemporaries were ignorant. In their
view he was the broker who had sold England to France. It seemed
clear that his greatness was at an end, and doubtful whether his
head could be saved.
Yet was the ferment excited by this discovery slight, when
compared with the commotion which arose when it was noised abroad
that a great Popish plot had been detected. One Titus Oates, a
clergyman of the Church of England, had, by his disorderly life
and heterodox doctrine, drawn on himself the censure of his
spiritual superiors, had been compelled to quit his benefice, and
had ever since led an infamous and vagrant life. He had once
professed himself a Roman Catholic, and had passed some time on
the Continent in English colleges of the order of Jesus. In those
seminaries he had heard much wild talk about the best means of
bringing England back to the true Church. From hints thus
furnished he constructed a hideous romance, resembling rather the
dream of a sick man than any transaction which ever took place in
the real world. The Pope, he said, had entrusted the government
of England to the Jesuits. The Jesuits had, by commissions under
the seal of their society, appointed Roman Catholic clergymen,
noblemen, and gentlemen, to all the highest offices in Church and
State. The Papists had burned down London once. They had tried to
burn it down again. They were at that moment planning a scheme
for setting fire to all the shipping in the Thames. They were to
rise at a signal and massacre all their Protestant neighbours. A
French army was at the same time to land in Ireland. All the
leading statesmen and divines of England were to be murdered.
Three or four schemes had been formed for assassinating the King.
He was to be stabbed. He was to be poisoned in his medicine He
was to be shot with silver bullets. The public mind was so sore
and excitable that these lies readily found credit with the
vulgar; and two events which speedily took place led even some
reflecting men to suspect that the tale, though evidently
distorted and exaggerated, might have some foundation.
Edward Coleman, a very busy, and not very honest, Roman Catholic
intriguer, had been among the persons accused. Search was made
for his papers. It was found that he had just destroyed the
greater part of them. But a few which had escaped contained some
passages such as, to minds strongly prepossessed, might seem to
confirm the evidence of Oates. Those passages indeed, when
candidly construed, appear to express little more than the hopes
which the posture of affairs, the predilections of Charles, the
still stronger predilections of James, and the relations existing
between the French and English courts, might naturally excite in
the mind of a Roman Catholic strongly attached to the interests
of his Church. But the country was not then inclined to construe
the letters of Papists candidly; and it was urged, with some show
of reason, that, if papers which had been passed over as
unimportant were filled with matter so suspicious, some great
mystery of iniquity must have been contained in those documents
which had been carefully committed to the flames.
A few days later it was known that Sir Edmondsbury Godfrey, an
eminent justice of the peace who had taken the depositions of
Oates against Coleman, had disappeared. Search was made; and
Godfrey's corpse was found in a field near London. It was clear
that he had died by violence. It was equally clear that he had
not been set upon by robbers. His fate is to this day a secret.
Some think that he perished by his own hand; some, that he was
slain by a private enemy. The most improbable supposition is that
he was murdered by the party hostile to the court, in order to
give colour to the story of the plot. The most probable
supposition seems, on the whole, to be that some hotheaded Roman
Catholic, driven to frenzy by the lies of Oates and by the
insults of the multitude, and not nicely distinguishing between
the perjured accuser and the innocent magistrate, had taken a
revenge of which the history of persecuted sects furnishes but
too many examples. If this were so, the assassin must have
afterwards bitterly execrated his own wickedness and folly. The
capital and the whole nation went mad with hatred and fear. The
penal laws, which had begun to lose something of their edge, were
sharpened anew. Everywhere justices were busied in searching
houses and seizing papers. All the gaols were filled with
Papists. London had the aspect of a city in a state of siege. The
trainbands were under arms all night. Preparations were made for
barricading the great thoroughfares. Patrols marched up and down
the streets. Cannon were planted round Whitehall. No citizen
thought himself safe unless he carried under his coat a small
flail loaded with lead to brain the Popish assassins. The corpse
of the murdered magistrate was exhibited during several days to
the gaze of great multitudes, and was then committed to the grave
with strange and terrible ceremonies, which indicated rather fear
and the thirst of vengeance shall sorrow or religious hope. The
Houses insisted that a guard should be placed in the vaults over
which they sate, in order to secure them against a second
Gunpowder Plot. All their proceedings were of a piece with this
demand. Ever since the reign of Elizabeth the oath of supremacy
had been exacted from members of the House of Commons. Some Roman
Catholics, however, had contrived so to interpret this oath that
they could take it without scruple. A more stringent test was now
added: every member of Parliament was required to make the
Declaration against Transubstantiation; and thus the Roman
Catholic Lords were for the first time excluded from their seats.
Strong resolutions were adopted against the Queen. The Commons
threw one of the Secretaries of State into prison for having
countersigned commissions directed to gentlemen who were not good
Protestants. They impeached the Lord Treasurer of high treason.
Nay, they so far forgot the doctrine which, while the memory of
the civil war was still recent, they had loudly professed, that
they even attempted to wrest the command of the militia out of
the King's hands. To such a temper had eighteen years of
misgovernment brought the most loyal Parliament that had ever met
in England.
Yet it may seem strange that, even in that extremity, the King
should have ventured to appeal to the people; for the people were
more excited than their representatives. The Lower House,
discontented as it was, contained a larger number of Cavaliers
than were likely to find seats again. But it was thought that a
dissolution would put a stop to the prosecution of the Lord
Treasurer, a prosecution which might probably bring to light all
the guilty mysteries of the French alliance, and might thus cause
extreme personal annoyance and embarrassment to Charles.
Accordingly, in January, 1679, the Parliament, which had been in
existence ever since the beginning of the year 1661, was
dissolved; and writs were issued for a general election.
During some weeks the contention over the whole country was
fierce and obstinate beyond example. Unprecedented sums were
expended. New tactics were employed. It was remarked by the
pamphleteers of that time as something extraordinary that horses
were hired at a great charge for the conveyance of electors. The
practice of splitting freeholds for the purpose of multiplying
votes dates from this memorable struggle. Dissenting preachers,
who had long hidden themselves in quiet nooks from persecution,
now emerged from their retreats, and rode from village to
village, for the purpose of rekindling the zeal of the scattered
people of God. The tide ran strong against the government. Most
of the new members came up to Westminster in a mood little
differing from that of their predecessors who had sent Strafford
and Laud to the Tower.
Meanwhile the courts of justice, which ought to be, in the midst
of political commotions, sure places of refuge for the innocent
of every party, were disgraced by wilder passions and fouler
corruptions than were to be found even on the hustings. The tale
of Oates, though it had sufficed to convulse the whole realm,
would not, unless confirmed by other evidence, suffice to destroy
the humblest of those whom he had accused. For, by the old law of
England, two witnesses are necessary to establish a charge of
treason. But the success of the first impostor produced its
natural consequences. In a few weeks he had been raised from
penury and obscurity to opulence, to power which made him the
dread of princes and nobles, and to notoriety such as has for low
and bad minds all the attractions of glory. He was not long
without coadjutors and rivals. A wretch named Carstairs, who had
earned a livelihood in Scotland by going disguised to
conventicles and then informing against the preachers, led the
way. Bedloe, a noted swindler, followed; and soon from all the
brothels, gambling houses, and spunging houses of London, false
witnesses poured forth to swear away the lives of Roman
Catholics. One came with a story about an army of thirty thousand
men who were to muster in the disguise of pilgrims at Corunna,
and to sail thence to Wales. Another had been promised
canonisation and five hundred pounds to murder the King. A third
had stepped into an eating house in Covent Garden, and had there
heard a great Roman Catholic banker vow, in the hearing of all
have been inclined to apprehend a return of the times of her whom
they called Bloody Mary.
Thus the nation was in such a temper that the smallest spark
might raise a flame. At this conjuncture fire was set in two
places at once to the vast mass of combustible matter; and in a
moment the whole was in a blaze.
The French court, which knew Danby to be its mortal enemy,
artfully contrived to ruin him by making him pass for its friend.
Lewis, by the instrumentality of Ralph Montague, a faithless and
shameless man who had resided in France as minister from England,
laid before the House of Commons proofs that the Treasurer had
been concerned in an application made by the Court of Whitehall
to the Court of Versailles for a sum of money. This discovery
produced its natural effect. The Treasurer was, in truth, exposed
to the vengeance of Parliament, not on account of his
delinquencies, but on account of his merits; not because he had
been an accomplice in a criminal transaction, but because he had
been a most unwilling and unserviceable accomplice. But of the
circumstances, which have, in the judgment of posterity, greatly
extenuated his fault, his contemporaries were ignorant. In their
view he was the broker who had sold England to France. It seemed
clear that his greatness was at an end, and doubtful whether his
head could be saved.
Yet was the ferment excited by this discovery slight, when
compared with the commotion which arose when it was noised abroad
that a great Popish plot had been detected. One Titus Oates, a
clergyman of the Church of England, had, by his disorderly life
and heterodox doctrine, drawn on himself the censure of his
spiritual superiors, had been compelled to quit his benefice, and
had ever since led an infamous and vagrant life. He had once
professed himself a Roman Catholic, and had passed some time on
the Continent in English colleges of the order of Jesus. In those
seminaries he had heard much wild talk about the best means of
bringing England back to the true Church. From hints thus
furnished he constructed a hideous romance, resembling rather the
dream of a sick man than any transaction which ever took place in
the real world. The Pope, he said, had entrusted the government
of England to the Jesuits. The Jesuits had, by commissions under
the seal of their society, appointed Roman Catholic clergymen,
noblemen, and gentlemen, to all the highest offices in Church and
State. The Papists had burned down London once. They had tried to
burn it down again. They were at that moment planning a scheme
for setting fire to all the shipping in the Thames. They were to
rise at a signal and massacre all their Protestant neighbours. A
French army was at the same time to land in Ireland. All the
leading statesmen and divines of England were to be murdered.
Three or four schemes had been formed for assassinating the King.
He was to be stabbed. He was to be poisoned in his medicine He
was to be shot with silver bullets. The public mind was so sore
and excitable that these lies readily found credit with the
vulgar; and two events which speedily took place led even some
reflecting men to suspect that the tale, though evidently
distorted and exaggerated, might have some foundation.
Edward Coleman, a very busy, and not very honest, Roman Catholic
intriguer, had been among the persons accused. Search was made
for his papers. It was found that he had just destroyed the
greater part of them. But a few which had escaped contained some
passages such as, to minds strongly prepossessed, might seem to
confirm the evidence of Oates. Those passages indeed, when
candidly construed, appear to express little more than the hopes
which the posture of affairs, the predilections of Charles, the
still stronger predilections of James, and the relations existing
between the French and English courts, might naturally excite in
the mind of a Roman Catholic strongly attached to the interests
of his Church. But the country was not then inclined to construe
the letters of Papists candidly; and it was urged, with some show
of reason, that, if papers which had been passed over as
unimportant were filled with matter so suspicious, some great
mystery of iniquity must have been contained in those documents
which had been carefully committed to the flames.
A few days later it was known that Sir Edmondsbury Godfrey, an
eminent justice of the peace who had taken the depositions of
Oates against Coleman, had disappeared. Search was made; and
Godfrey's corpse was found in a field near London. It was clear
that he had died by violence. It was equally clear that he had
not been set upon by robbers. His fate is to this day a secret.
Some think that he perished by his own hand; some, that he was
slain by a private enemy. The most improbable supposition is that
he was murdered by the party hostile to the court, in order to
give colour to the story of the plot. The most probable
supposition seems, on the whole, to be that some hotheaded Roman
Catholic, driven to frenzy by the lies of Oates and by the
insults of the multitude, and not nicely distinguishing between
the perjured accuser and the innocent magistrate, had taken a
revenge of which the history of persecuted sects furnishes but
too many examples. If this were so, the assassin must have
afterwards bitterly execrated his own wickedness and folly. The
capital and the whole nation went mad with hatred and fear. The
penal laws, which had begun to lose something of their edge, were
sharpened anew. Everywhere justices were busied in searching
houses and seizing papers. All the gaols were filled with
Papists. London had the aspect of a city in a state of siege. The
trainbands were under arms all night. Preparations were made for
barricading the great thoroughfares. Patrols marched up and down
the streets. Cannon were planted round Whitehall. No citizen
thought himself safe unless he carried under his coat a small
flail loaded with lead to brain the Popish assassins. The corpse
of the murdered magistrate was exhibited during several days to
the gaze of great multitudes, and was then committed to the grave
with strange and terrible ceremonies, which indicated rather fear
and the thirst of vengeance shall sorrow or religious hope. The
Houses insisted that a guard should be placed in the vaults over
which they sate, in order to secure them against a second
Gunpowder Plot. All their proceedings were of a piece with this
demand. Ever since the reign of Elizabeth the oath of supremacy
had been exacted from members of the House of Commons. Some Roman
Catholics, however, had contrived so to interpret this oath that
they could take it without scruple. A more stringent test was now
added: every member of Parliament was required to make the
Declaration against Transubstantiation; and thus the Roman
Catholic Lords were for the first time excluded from their seats.
Strong resolutions were adopted against the Queen. The Commons
threw one of the Secretaries of State into prison for having
countersigned commissions directed to gentlemen who were not good
Protestants. They impeached the Lord Treasurer of high treason.
Nay, they so far forgot the doctrine which, while the memory of
the civil war was still recent, they had loudly professed, that
they even attempted to wrest the command of the militia out of
the King's hands. To such a temper had eighteen years of
misgovernment brought the most loyal Parliament that had ever met
in England.
Yet it may seem strange that, even in that extremity, the King
should have ventured to appeal to the people; for the people were
more excited than their representatives. The Lower House,
discontented as it was, contained a larger number of Cavaliers
than were likely to find seats again. But it was thought that a
dissolution would put a stop to the prosecution of the Lord
Treasurer, a prosecution which might probably bring to light all
the guilty mysteries of the French alliance, and might thus cause
extreme personal annoyance and embarrassment to Charles.
Accordingly, in January, 1679, the Parliament, which had been in
existence ever since the beginning of the year 1661, was
dissolved; and writs were issued for a general election.
During some weeks the contention over the whole country was
fierce and obstinate beyond example. Unprecedented sums were
expended. New tactics were employed. It was remarked by the
pamphleteers of that time as something extraordinary that horses
were hired at a great charge for the conveyance of electors. The
practice of splitting freeholds for the purpose of multiplying
votes dates from this memorable struggle. Dissenting preachers,
who had long hidden themselves in quiet nooks from persecution,
now emerged from their retreats, and rode from village to
village, for the purpose of rekindling the zeal of the scattered
people of God. The tide ran strong against the government. Most
of the new members came up to Westminster in a mood little
differing from that of their predecessors who had sent Strafford
and Laud to the Tower.
Meanwhile the courts of justice, which ought to be, in the midst
of political commotions, sure places of refuge for the innocent
of every party, were disgraced by wilder passions and fouler
corruptions than were to be found even on the hustings. The tale
of Oates, though it had sufficed to convulse the whole realm,
would not, unless confirmed by other evidence, suffice to destroy
the humblest of those whom he had accused. For, by the old law of
England, two witnesses are necessary to establish a charge of
treason. But the success of the first impostor produced its
natural consequences. In a few weeks he had been raised from
penury and obscurity to opulence, to power which made him the
dread of princes and nobles, and to notoriety such as has for low
and bad minds all the attractions of glory. He was not long
without coadjutors and rivals. A wretch named Carstairs, who had
earned a livelihood in Scotland by going disguised to
conventicles and then informing against the preachers, led the
way. Bedloe, a noted swindler, followed; and soon from all the
brothels, gambling houses, and spunging houses of London, false
witnesses poured forth to swear away the lives of Roman
Catholics. One came with a story about an army of thirty thousand
men who were to muster in the disguise of pilgrims at Corunna,
and to sail thence to Wales. Another had been promised
canonisation and five hundred pounds to murder the King. A third
had stepped into an eating house in Covent Garden, and had there
heard a great Roman Catholic banker vow, in the hearing of all
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