Opening of the Parliament--Debates on the Salaries and Fees of Official
Men--Act excluding Papists from Public Trust in Ireland--Debates on the
East India Trade--Debates on the Bill for regulating Trials in Cases
of High Treason--Plot formed by Marlborough against the Government of
William--Marlborough's Plot disclosed by the Jacobites--Disgrace
of Marlborough; Various Reports touching the Cause of Marlborough's
Disgrace.--Rupture between Mary and Anne--Fuller's Plot--Close of
the Session; Bill for ascertaining the Salaries of the Judges
rejected--Misterial Changes in England--Ministerial Changes in
Scotland--State of the Highlands--Breadalbane employed to negotiate
with the Rebel Clans--Glencoe--William goes to the Continent; Death of
Louvois--The French Government determines to send an Expedition
against England--James believes that the English Fleet is friendly to
him--Conduct of Russell--A Daughter born to James--Preparations made
in England to repel Invasion--James goes down to his Army at La
Hogue--James's Declaration--Effect produced by James's Declaration--The
English and Dutch Fleets join; Temper of the English Fleet--Battle of La
Hogue--Rejoicings in England--Young's Plot
ON the nineteenth of October 1691, William arrived at Kensington from
the Netherlands. [144] Three days later he opened the Parliament. The
aspect of affairs was, on the whole, cheering. By land there had been
gains and losses; but the balance was in favour of England. Against the
fall of Mons might well be set off the taking of Athlone, the victory
of Aghrim, the surrender of Limerick and the pacification of Ireland. At
sea there had been no great victory; but there had been a great display
of power and of activity; and, though many were dissatisfied because
more had not been done, none could deny that there had been a change for
the better. The ruin caused by the foibles and vices of Torrington had
been repaired; the fleet had been well equipped; the rations had been
abundant and wholesome; and the health of the crews had consequently
been, for that age, wonderfully good. Russell, who commanded the naval
forces of the allies, had in vain offered battle to the French. The
white flag, which, in the preceding year, had ranged the Channel
unresisted from the Land's End to the Straits of Dover, now, as soon as
our topmasts were descried twenty leagues off, abandoned the open sea,
and retired into the depths of the harbour of Brest. The appearance of
an English squadron in the estuary of the Shannon had decided the fate
of the last fortress which had held out for King James; and a fleet
of merchantmen from the Levant, valued at four millions sterling,
had, through dangers which had caused many sleepless nights to the
underwriters of Lombard Street, been convoyed safe into the Thames.
[145] The Lords and Commons listened with signs of satisfaction to a
speech in which the King congratulated them on the event of the war
in Ireland, and expressed his confidence that they would continue to
support him in the war with France. He told them that a great naval
armament would be necessary, and that, in his opinion, the conflict
by land could not be effectually maintained with less than sixty-five
thousand men. [146]
He was thanked in affectionate terms; the force which he asked was
voted; and large supplies were granted with little difficulty. But when
the Ways and Means were taken into consideration, symptoms of discontent
began to appear. Eighteen months before, when the Commons had been
employed in settling the Civil List, many members had shown a very
natural disposition to complain of the amount of the salaries and fees
received by official men. Keen speeches had been made, and, what was
much less usual, had been printed; there had been much excitement out of
doors; but nothing had been done. The subject was now revived. A report
made by the Commissioners who had been appointed in the preceding
year to examine the public accounts disclosed some facts which excited
indignation, and others which raised grave suspicion. The House seemed
fully determined to make an extensive reform; and, in truth, nothing
could have averted such a reform except the folly and violence of the
reformers. That they should have been angry is indeed not strange. The
enormous gains, direct and indirect, of the servants of the public went
on increasing, while the gains of every body else were diminishing.
Rents were falling; trade was languishing; every man who lived either on
what his ancestors had left him or on the fruits of his own industry
was forced to retrench. The placeman alone throve amidst the general
distress. "Look," cried the incensed squires, "at the Comptroller of the
Customs. Ten years ago, he walked, and we rode. Our incomes have been
curtailed; his salary has been doubled; we have sold our horses; he has
bought them; and now we go on foot, and are splashed by his coach and
six." Lowther vainly endeavoured to stand up against the storm. He
was heard with little favour by the country gentlemen who had not long
before looked up to him as one of their leaders. He had left them; he
had become a courtier; he had two good places, one in the Treasury, the
other in the household. He had recently received from the King's own
hand a gratuity of two thousand guineas. [147] It seemed perfectly
natural that he should defend abuses by which he profited. The taunts
and reproaches with which he was assailed were insupportable to his
sensitive nature. He lost his head, almost fainted away on the floor
of the House, and talked about righting himself in another place. [148]
Unfortunately no member rose at this conjuncture to propose that the
civil establishment of the kingdom should be carefully revised, that
sinecures should be abolished, that exorbitant official incomes should
be reduced, and that no servant of the State should be allowed to exact,
under any pretence, any thing beyond his known and lawful remuneration.
In this way it would have been possible to diminish the public burdens,
and at the same time to increase the efficiency of every public
department. But unfortunately those who were loudest in clamouring
against the prevailing abuses were utterly destitute of the qualities
necessary for the work of reform. On the twelfth of December, some
foolish man, whose name has not come down to us, moved that no person
employed in any civil office, the Speaker, Judges and Ambassadors
excepted, should receive more than five hundred pounds a year; and this
motion was not only carried, but carried without one dissentient voice.
[149]
Those who were most interested in opposing it doubtless saw that
opposition would, at that moment, only irritate the majority, and
reserved themselves for a more favourable time. The more favourable
time soon came. No man of common sense could, when his blood had cooled,
remember without shame that he had voted for a resolution which made no
distinction between sinecurists and laborious public servants, between
clerks employed in copying letters and ministers on whose wisdom
and integrity the fate of the nation might depend. The salary of the
Doorkeeper of the Excise Office had been, by a scandalous job, raised
to five hundred a year. It ought to have been reduced to fifty. On the
other hand, the services of a Secretary of State who was well qualified
for his post would have been cheap at five thousand. If the resolution
of the Commons bad been carried into effect, both the salary which ought
not to have exceeded fifty pounds, and the salary which might without
impropriety have amounted to five thousand, would have been fixed at
five hundred. Such absurdity must have shocked even the roughest and
plainest foxhunter in the House. A reaction took place; and when, after
an interval of a few weeks, it was proposed to insert in a bill of
supply a clause in conformity with the resolution of the twelfth of
December, the Noes were loud; the Speaker was of opinion that they had
it; the Ayes did not venture to dispute his opinion; the senseless
plan which had been approved without a division was rejected without a
division; and the subject was not again mentioned. Thus a grievance so
scandalous that none of those who profited by it dared to defend it
was perpetuated merely by the imbecility and intemperance of those who
attacked it. [150]
Early in the Session the Treaty of Limerick became the subject of a
grave and earnest discussion. The Commons, in the exercise of that
supreme power which the English legislature possessed over all the
dependencies of England, sent up to the Lords a bill providing that no
person should sit in the Irish Parliament, should hold any Irish office,
civil, military or ecclesiastical, or should practise law or medicine
in Ireland, till he had taken the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy, and
subscribed the Declaration against Transubstantiation. The Lords were
not more inclined than the Commons to favour the Irish. No peer was
disposed to entrust Roman Catholics with political power. Nay, it seems
that no peer objected to the principle of the absurd and cruel rule
which excluded Roman Catholics from the liberal professions. But it was
thought that this rule, though unobjectionable in principle, would,
if adopted without some exceptions, be a breach of a positive compact.
Their Lordships called for the Treaty of Limerick, ordered it to be read
at the table, and proceeded to consider whether the law framed by
the Lower House was consistent with the engagements into which the
government had entered. One discrepancy was noticed. It was stipulated
by the second civil article, that every person actually residing in any
fortress occupied by an Irish garrison, should be permitted, on taking
the Oath of Allegiance, to resume any calling which he had exercised
before the Revolution. It would, beyond all doubt, have been a violation
of this covenant to require that a lawyer or a physician, who had been
within the walls of Limerick during the siege, should take the Oath
of Supremacy and subscribe the Declaration against Transubstantiation,
before he could receive fees. Holt was consulted, and was directed to
prepare clauses in conformity with the terms of the capitulation.
The bill, as amended by Holt, was sent back to the Commons. They at
first rejected the amendment, and demanded a conference. The conference
was granted. Rochester, in the Painted Chamber, delivered to the
managers of the Lower House a copy of the Treaty of Limerick, and
earnestly represented the importance of preserving the public faith
inviolate. This appeal was one which no honest man, though inflamed by
national and religious animosity, could resist. The Commons reconsidered
the subject, and, after hearing the Treaty read, agreed, with some
slight modifications, to what the Lords had proposed. [151]
The bill became a law. It attracted, at the time, little notice, but
was, after the lapse of several generations, the subject of a very
acrimonious controversy. Many of us can well remember how strongly the
public mind was stirred, in the days of George the Third and George the
Fourth, by the question whether Roman Catholics should be permitted to
sit in Parliament. It may be doubted whether any dispute has produced
stranger perversions of history. The whole past was falsified for
the sake of the present. All the great events of three centuries long
appeared to us distorted and discoloured by a mist sprung from our own
theories and our own passions. Some friends of religious liberty, not
content with the advantage which they possessed in the fair conflict
of reason with reason, weakened their case by maintaining that the law
which excluded Irish Roman Catholics from Parliament was inconsistent
with the civil Treaty of Limerick. The First article of that Treaty, it
was said, guaranteed to the Irish Roman Catholic such privileges in the
exercise of his religion as he had enjoyed in the time of Charles
the Second. In the time of Charles the Second no test excluded Roman
Catholics from the Irish Parliament. Such a test could not therefore,
it was argued, be imposed without a breach of public faith. In the year
1828, especially, this argument was put forward in the House of Commons
as if it had been the main strength of a cause which stood in need of no
such support. The champions of Protestant ascendency were well pleased
to see the debate diverted from a political question about which they
were in the wrong, to a historical question about which they were in
the right. They had no difficulty in proving that the first article,
as understood by all the contracting parties, meant only that the Roman
Catholic worship should be tolerated as in time past. That article was
drawn up by Ginkell; and, just before he drew it up, he had declared
that he would rather try the chance of arms than consent that Irish
Papists should be capable of holding civil and military offices, of
exercising liberal professions, and of becoming members of municipal
corporations. How is it possible to believe that he would, of his own
accord, have promised that the House of Lords and the House of Commons
should be open to men to whom he would not open a guild of skinners or
a guild of cordwainers? How, again, is it possible to believe that the
English Peers would, while professing the most punctilious respect
for public faith, while lecturing the Commons on the duty of observing
public faith, while taking counsel with the most learned and upright
jurist of the age as to the best mode of maintaining public faith, have
committed a flagrant violation of public faith and that not a single
lord should have been so honest or so factious as to protest against
an act of monstrous perfidy aggravated by hypocrisy? Or, if we could
believe this, how can we believe that no voice would have been raised in
any part of the world against such wickedness; that the Court of Saint
Germains and the Court of Versailles would have remained profoundly
silent; that no Irish exile, no English malecontent, would have uttered
a murmur; that not a word of invective or sarcasm on so inviting a
subject would have been found in the whole compass of the Jacobite
literature; and that it would have been reserved for politicians of the
nineteenth century to discover that a treaty made in the seventeenth
century had, a few weeks after it had been signed, been outrageously
violated in the sight of all Europe? [152]
On the same day on which the Commons read for the first time the bill
which subjected Ireland to the absolute dominion of the Protestant
minority, they took into consideration another matter of high
importance. Throughout the country, but especially in the capital,
in the seaports and in the manufacturing towns, the minds of men were
greatly excited on the subject of the trade with the East Indies; a
fierce paper war had during some time been raging; and several grave
questions, both constitutional and commercial, had been raised, which
the legislature only could decide.
It has often been repeated, and ought never to be forgotten, that our
polity differs widely from those politics which have, during the last
eighty years, been methodically constructed, digested into articles, and
ratified by constituent assemblies. It grew up in a rude age. It is not
to be found entire in any formal instrument. All along the line which
separates the functions of the prince from those of the legislator there
was long a disputed territory. Encroachments were perpetually committed,
and, if not very outrageous, were often tolerated. Trespass, merely as
trespass, was commonly suffered to pass unresented. It was only when the
trespass produced some positive damage that the aggrieved party stood on
his right, and demanded that the frontier should be set out by metes
and bounds, and that the landmarks should thenceforward be punctiliously
respected.
Many of those points which had occasioned the most violent disputes
between our Sovereigns and their Parliaments had been finally decided by
the Bill of Rights. But one question, scarcely less important than
any of the questions which had been set at rest for ever, was still
undetermined. Indeed, that question was never, as far as can now be
ascertained, even mentioned in the Convention. The King had undoubtedly,
by the ancient laws of the realm, large powers for the regulation of
trade; but the ablest judge would have found it difficult to say what
was the precise extent of those powers. It was universally acknowledged
that it belonged to the King to prescribe weights and measures, and to
coin money; that no fair or market could be held without authority from
him; that no ship could unload in any bay or estuary which he had not
declared to be a port. In addition to his undoubted right to grant
special commercial privileges to particular places, he long claimed a
right to grant special commercial privileges to particular societies and
to particular individuals; and our ancestors, as usual, did not think
it worth their while to dispute this claim, till it produced serious
inconvenience. At length, in the reign of Elizabeth, the power of
creating monopolies began to be grossly abused; and, as soon as it
began to be grossly abused, it began to be questioned. The Queen wisely
declined a conflict with a House of Commons backed by the whole nation.
She frankly acknowledged that there was reason for complaint; she
cancelled the patents which had excited the public clamours; and her
people, delighted by this concession, and by the gracious manner in
which it had been made, did not require from her an express renunciation
of the disputed prerogative.
The discontents which her wisdom had appeased were revived by the
dishonest and pusillanimous policy which her successor called Kingcraft.
He readily granted oppressive patents of monopoly. When he needed the
help of his Parliament, he as readily annulled them. As soon as the
Parliament had ceased to sit, his Great Seal was put to instruments
more odious than those which he had recently cancelled. At length that
excellent House of Commons which met in 1623 determined to apply a
strong remedy to the evil. The King was forced to give his assent to a
law which declared monopolies established by royal authority to be null
and void. Some exceptions, however, were made, and, unfortunately, were
not very clearly defined. It was especially provided that every Society
of Merchants which had been instituted for the purpose of carrying on
any trade should retain all its legal privileges. [153] The question
whether a monopoly granted by the Crown to such a company were or were
not a legal privilege was left unsettled, and continued to exercise,
during many years, the ingenuity of lawyers. [154] The nation, however,
relieved at once from a multitude of impositions and vexations which
were painfully felt every day at every fireside, was in no humour to
dispute the validity of the charters under which a few companies to
London traded with distant parts of the world.
Of these companies by far the most important was that which had been, on
the last day of the sixteenth century, incorporated by Queen Elizabeth
under the name of the Governor and Company of Merchants of London
trading to the East Indies. When this celebrated body began to exist,
the Mogul monarchy was at the zenith of power and glory. Akbar, the
ablest and best of the princes of the House of Tamerlane, had just
been borne, full of years and honours, to a mausoleum surpassing in
magnificence any that Europe could show. He had bequeathed to his
posterity an empire containing more than twenty times the population and
yielding more than twenty times the revenue of the England which, under
our great Queen, held a foremost place among European powers. It is
curious and interesting to consider how little the two countries,
destined to be one day so closely connected, were then known to each
other. The most enlightened Englishmen looked on India with ignorant
admiration. The most enlightened natives of India were scarcely aware
that England existed. Our ancestors had a dim notion of endless bazaars,
swarming with buyers and sellers, and blazing with cloth of gold, with
variegated silks and with precious stones; of treasuries where diamonds
were piled in heaps and sequins in mountains; of palaces, compared with
which Whitehall and Hampton Court were hovels; of armies ten times as
numerous as that which they had seen assembled at Tilbury to repel
the Armada. On the other hand, it was probably not known to one of the
statesmen in the Durbar of Agra that there was near the setting sun a
great city of infidels, called London, where a woman reigned, and
that she had given to an association of Frank merchants the exclusive
privilege of freighting ships from her dominions to the Indian seas.
That this association would one day rule all India, from the ocean to
the everlasting snow, would reduce to profound obedience great provinces
which had never submitted to Akbar's authority, would send Lieutenant
Governors to preside in his capital, and would dole out a monthly
pension to his heir, would have seemed to the wisest of European or
of Oriental politicians as impossible as that inhabitants of our globe
should found an empire in Venus or Jupiter.
Three generations passed away; and still nothing indicated that the East
India Company would ever become a great Asiatic potentate. The Mogul
empire, though undermined by internal causes of decay, and tottering
to its fall, still presented to distant nations the appearance of
undiminished prosperity and vigour. Aurengzebe, who, in the same
month in which Oliver Cromwell died, assumed the magnificent title of
Conqueror of the World, continued to reign till Anne had been long on
the English throne. He was the sovereign of a larger territory than
had obeyed any of his predecessors. His name was great in the farthest
regions of the West. Here he had been made by Dryden the hero of a
tragedy which would alone suffice to show how little the English of that
age knew about the vast empire which their grandchildren were to conquer
and to govern. The poet's Mussulman princes make love in the style
of Amadis, preach about the death of Socrates, and embellish their
discourse with allusions to the mythological stories of Ovid. The
Brahminical metempyschosis is represented as an article of the Mussulman
creed; and the Mussulman Sultanas burn themselves with their husbands
after the Brahminical fashion. This drama, once rapturously applauded by
crowded theatres, and known by heart to fine gentlemen and fine ladies,
is now forgotten. But one noble passage still lives, and is repeated by
thousands who know not whence it comes. [155]
Though nothing yet indicated the high political destiny of the East
India Company, that body had a great sway in the City of London. The
offices, which stood on a very small part of the ground which the
present offices cover, had escaped the ravages of the fire. The India
House of those days was a building of timber and plaster, rich with
the quaint carving and lattice-work of the Elizabethan age. Above the
windows was a painting which represented a fleet of merchantmen tossing
on the waves. The whole edifice was surmounted by a colossal wooden
seaman, who, from between two dolphins, looked down on the crowds of
Leadenhall Street. [156] In this abode, narrow and humble indeed when
compared with the vast labyrinth of passages and chambers which now
bears the same name, the Company enjoyed, during the greater part of the
reign of Charles the Second, a prosperity to which the history of trade
scarcely furnishes any parallel, and which excited the wonder, the
cupidity and the envious animosity of the whole capital. Wealth and
luxury were then rapidly increasing. The taste for the spices, the
tissues and the jewels of the East became stronger day by day. Tea,
which, at the time when Monk brought the army of Scotland to London, had
been handed round to be stared at and just touched with the lips, as a
great rarity from China, was, eight years later, a regular article of
import, and was soon consumed in such quantities that financiers began
to consider it as a fit subject for taxation. The progress which was
making in the art of war had created an unprecedented demand for the
ingredients of which gunpowder is compounded. It was calculated that all
Europe would hardly produce in a year saltpetre enough for the siege
of one town fortified on the principles of Vauban. [157] But for the
supplies from India, it was said, the English government would be unable
to equip a fleet without digging up the cellars of London in order
to collect the nitrous particles from the walls. [158] Before the
Restoration scarcely one ship from the Thames had ever visited the Delta
of the Ganges. But, during the twenty-three years which followed the
Restoration, the value of the annual imports from that rich and populous
district increased from eight thousand pounds to three hundred thousand.
The gains of the body which had the exclusive possession of this
fast growing trade were almost incredible. The capital which had been
actually paid up did not exceed three hundred and seventy thousand
pounds; but the Company could, without difficulty, borrow money at six
per cent., and the borrowed money, thrown into the trade, produced,
it was rumoured, thirty per cent. The profits were such that, in 1676,
every proprietor received as a bonus a quantity of stock equal to that
which he held. On the capital, thus doubled, were paid, during five
years, dividends amounting on an average to twenty per cent. annually.
There had been a time when a hundred pounds of the stock could be
purchased for sixty. Even in 1664 the price in the market was only
seventy. But in 1677 the price had risen to two hundred and forty-five;
in 1681 it was three hundred; it subsequently rose to three hundred and
sixty; and it is said that some sales were effected at five hundred.
[159]
The enormous gains of the Indian trade might perhaps have excited little
murmuring if they had been distributed among numerous proprietors.
But while the value of the stock went on increasing, the number of
stockholders went on diminishing. At the time when the prosperity of the
Company reached the highest point, the management was entirely in the
hands of a few merchants of enormous wealth. A proprietor then had a
vote for every five hundred pounds of stock that stood in his name. It
is asserted in the pamphlets of that age that five persons had a sixth
part, and fourteen persons a third part of the votes. [160] More than
one fortunate speculator was said to derive an annual income of ten
thousand pounds from the monopoly; and one great man was pointed out on
the Royal Exchange as having, by judicious or lucky purchases of stock,
created in no long time an estate of twenty thousand a year. This
commercial grandee, who in wealth and in the influence which attends
wealth vied with the greatest nobles of his time, was Sir Josiah Child.
There were those who still remembered him an apprentice, sweeping one
of the counting houses of the City. But from a humble position his
abilities had raised him rapidly to opulence, power and fame. At the
time of the Restoration he was highly considered in the mercantile
world. Soon after that event he published his thoughts on the philosophy
of trade. His speculations were not always sound; but they were the
speculations of an ingenious and reflecting man. Into whatever errors
he may occasionally have fallen as a theorist, it is certain that, as
a practical man of business, he had few equals. Almost as soon as he
became a member of the committee which directed the affairs of the
Company, his ascendency was felt. Soon many of the most important posts,
both in Leadenhall Street and in the factories of Bombay and Bengal,
were filled by his kinsmen and creatures. His riches, though expended
with ostentatious profusion, continued to increase and multiply. He
obtained a baronetcy; he purchased a stately seat at Wanstead; and there
he laid out immense sums in excavating fishponds, and in planting whole
square miles of barren land with walnut trees. He married his daughter
to the eldest son of the Duke of Beaufort, and paid down with her a
portion of fifty thousand pounds. [161]
But this wonderful prosperity was not uninterrupted. Towards the close
of the reign of Charles the Second the Company began to be fiercely
attacked from without, and to be at the same time distracted by internal
dissensions. The profits of the Indian trade were so tempting, that
private adventurers had often, in defiance of the royal charter, fitted
out ships for the Eastern seas. But the competition of these interlopers
did not become really formidable till the year 1680. The nation was then
violently agitated by the dispute about the Exclusion Bill. Timid men
were anticipating another civil war. The two great parties, newly named
Whigs and Tories, were fiercely contending in every county and town of
England; and the feud soon spread to every corner of the civilised world
where Englishmen were to be found.
The Company was popularly considered as a Whig body. Among the members
of the directing committee were some of the most vehement Exclusionists
in the City. Indeed two of them, Sir Samuel Barnardistone and Thomas
Papillon, drew on themselves a severe persecution by their zeal against
Popery and arbitrary power. [162] Child had been originally brought into
the direction by these men; he had long acted in concert with them; and
he was supposed to hold their political opinions. He had, during many
years, stood high in the esteem of the chiefs of the parliamentary
opposition, and had been especially obnoxious to the Duke of York. [163]
The interlopers therefore determined to affect the character of loyal
men, who were determined to stand by the throne against the insolent
tribunes of the City. They spread, at all the factories in the East,
reports that England was in confusion, that the sword had been drawn
or would immediately be drawn, and that the Company was forward in the
rebellion against the Crown. These rumours, which, in truth, were not
improbable, easily found credit among people separated from London by
what was then a voyage of twelve months. Some servants of the Company
who were in ill humour with their employers, and others who were zealous
royalists, joined the private traders. At Bombay, the garrison and the
great body of the English inhabitants declared that they would no longer
obey any body who did not obey the King; they imprisoned the Deputy
Governor; and they proclaimed that they held the island for the Crown.
At Saint Helena there was a rising. The insurgents took the name of
King's men, and displayed the royal standard. They were, not without
difficulty, put down; and some of them were executed by martial law.
[164]
If the Company had still been a Whig Company when the news of these
commotions reached England, it is probable that the government would
have approved of the conduct of the mutineers, and that the charter on
which the monopoly depended would have had the fate which about the same
time befell so many other charters. But while the interlopers were, at
a distance of many thousands of miles, making war on the Company in the
name of the King, the Company and the King had been reconciled. When the
Oxford Parliament had been dissolved, when many signs indicated that
a strong reaction in favour of prerogative was at hand, when all the
corporations which had incurred the royal displeasure were beginning to
tremble for their franchises, a rapid and complete revolution took place
at the India House. Child, who was then Governor, or, in the modern
phrase, Chairman, separated himself from his old friends, excluded
them from the direction, and negotiated a treaty of peace and of close
alliance with the Court. [165] It is not improbable that the near
connection into which he had just entered with the great Tory house of
Beaufort may have had something to do with this change in his politics.
Papillon, Barnardistone, and their adherents, sold their stock; their
places in the committee were supplied by persons devoted to Child; and
he was thenceforth the autocrat of the Company. The treasures of the
Company were absolutely at his disposal. The most important papers
of the Company were kept, not in the muniment room of the office in
Leadenhall Street, but in his desk at Wanstead. The boundless power
which he exercised at the India House enabled him to become a favourite
at Whitehall; and the favour which he enjoyed at Whitehall confirmed
his power at the India House. A present of ten thousand guineas was
graciously received from him by Charles. Ten thousand more were accepted
by James, who readily consented to become a holder of stock. All who
could help or hurt at Court, ministers, mistresses, priests, were kept
in good humour by presents of shawls and silks, birds' nests and atar
of roses, bulses of diamonds and bags of guineas. [166] Of what the
Dictator expended no account was asked by his colleagues; and in truth
he seems to have deserved the confidence which they reposed in him.
His bribes, distributed with judicious prodigality, speedily produced a
large return. Just when the Court became all powerful in the State,
he became all powerful at the Court. Jeffreys pronounced a decision in
favour of the monopoly, and of the strongest acts which had been done
in defence of the monopoly. James ordered his seal to be put to a new
charter which confirmed and extended all the privileges bestowed on
the Company by his predecessors. All captains of Indiamen received
commissions from the Crown, and were permitted to hoist the royal
ensigns. [167] John Child, brother of Sir Josiah, and Governor of
Bombay, was created a baronet by the style of Sir John Child of Surat:
he was declared General of all the English forces in the East; and he
was authorised to assume the title of Excellency. The Company, on the
other hand, distinguished itself among many servile corporations by
obsequious homage to the throne, and set to all the merchants of the
kingdom the example of readily and even eagerly paying those customs
which James, at the commencement of his reign, exacted without the
authority of Parliament. [168]
It seemed that the private trade would now be utterly crushed, and that
the monopoly, protected by the whole strength of the royal prerogative,
would be more profitable than ever. But unfortunately just at this
moment a quarrel arose between the agents of the Company in India
and the Mogul Government. Where the fault lay is a question which was
vehemently disputed at the time, and which it is now impossible to
decide. The interlopers threw all the blame on the Company. The Governor
of Bombay, they affirmed, had always been grasping and violent; but his
baronetcy and his military commission had completely turned his head.
The very natives who were employed about the factory had noticed the
change, and had muttered, in their broken English, that there must be
some strange curse attending the word Excellency; for that, ever since
the chief of the strangers was called Excellency, every thing had gone
to ruin. Meanwhile, it was said, the brother in England had sanctioned
all the unjust and impolitic acts of the brother in India, till at
length insolence and rapine, disgraceful to the English nation and to
the Christian religion, had roused the just resentment of the native
authorities. The Company warmly recriminated. The story told at
the India House was that the quarrel was entirely the work of the
interlopers, who were now designated not only as interlopers but as
traitors. They had, it was alleged, by flattery, by presents, and by
false accusations, induced the viceroys of the Mogul to oppress and
persecute the body which in Asia represented the English Crown. And
indeed this charge seems not to have been altogether without foundation.
It is certain that one of the most pertinacious enemies of the Childs
went up to the Court of Aurengzebe, took his station at the palace gate,
stopped the Great King who was in the act of mounting on horseback, and,
lifting a petition high in the air, demanded justice in the name of the
common God of Christians and Mussulmans. [169] Whether Aurengzebe paid
much attention to the charges brought by infidel Franks against each
other may be doubted. But it is certain that a complete rupture took
place between his deputies and the servants of the Company. On the
sea the ships of his subjects were seized by the English. On land the
English settlements were taken and plundered. The trade was suspended;
and, though great annual dividends were still paid in London, they were
no longer paid out of annual profits.
Just at this conjuncture, while every Indiaman that arrived in the
Thames was bringing unwelcome news from the East, all the politics of
Sir Josiah were utterly confounded by the Revolution. He had flattered
himself that he had secured the body of which he was the chief against
the machinations of interlopers, by uniting it closely with the
strongest government that had existed within his memory. That government
had fallen; and whatever had leaned on the ruined fabric began to
totter. The bribes had been thrown away. The connections which had been
the strength and boast of the corporation were now its weakness and its
shame. The King who had been one of its members was an exile. The
judge by whom all its most exorbitant pretensions had been pronounced
legitimate was a prisoner. All the old enemies of the Company,
reinforced by those great Whig merchants whom Child had expelled from
the direction, demanded justice and vengeance from the Whig House of
Commons, which had just placed William and Mary on the throne. No voice
was louder in accusation than that of Papillon, who had, some years
before, been more zealous for the charter than any man in London. [170]
The Commons censured in severe terms the persons who had inflicted death
by martial law at Saint Helena, and even resolved that some of those
offenders should be excluded from the Act of Indemnity. [171] The great
question, how the trade with the East should for the future be carried
on, was referred to a Committee. The report was to have been made on
the twenty-seventh of January 1690; but on that very day the Parliament
ceased to exist.
The first two sessions of the succeeding Parliament were so short and
so busy that little was said about India in either House. But, out
of Parliament, all the arts both of controversy and of intrigue were
employed on both sides. Almost as many pamphlets were published about
the India trade as about the oaths. The despot of Leadenhall Street was
libelled in prose and verse. Wretched puns were made on his name. He was
compared to Cromwell, to the King of France, to Goliath of Gath, to the
Devil. It was vehemently declared to be necessary that, in any Act which
might be passed for the regulation of our traffic with the Eastern seas,
Sir Josiah should be by name excluded from all trust. [172]
There were, however, great differences of opinion among those who agreed
in hating Child and the body of which he was the head. The manufacturers
of Spitalfields, of Norwich, of Yorkshire, and of the Western counties,
considered the trade with the Eastern seas as rather injurious than
beneficial to the kingdom. The importation of Indian spices, indeed, was
admitted to be harmless, and the importation of Indian saltpetre to be
necessary. But the importation of silks and of Bengals, as shawls were
then called, was pronounced to be a curse to the country. The effect of
the growing taste for such frippery was that our gold and silver went
abroad, and that much excellent English drapery lay in our warehouses
till it was devoured by the moths. Those, it was said, were happy days
for the inhabitants both of our pasture lands and of our manufacturing
towns, when every gown, every hanging, every bed, was made of materials
which our own flocks had furnished to our own looms. Where were now
the brave old hangings of arras which had adorned the walls of lordly
mansions in the days of Elizabeth? And was it not a shame to see a
gentleman, whose ancestors had worn nothing but stuffs made by English
workmen out of English fleeces, flaunting in a calico shirt and a pair
of silk stockings? Clamours such as these had, a few years before,
extorted from Parliament the Act which required that the dead should
be wrapped in woollen; and some sanguine clothiers hoped that the
legislature would, by excluding all Indian textures from our ports,
impose the same necessity on the living. [173]
But this feeling was confined to a minority. The public was, indeed,
inclined rather to overrate than to underrate the benefits which might
be derived by England from the Indian trade. What was the most effectual
mode of extending that trade was a question which excited general
interest, and which was answered in very different ways.
A small party, consisting chiefly of merchants resident at Bristol and
other provincial seaports, maintained that the best way to extend trade
was to leave it free. They urged the well known arguments which prove
that monopoly is injurious to commerce; and, having fully established
the general law, they asked why the commerce between England and India
was to be considered as an exception to that law. Any trader ought, they
said, to be permitted to send from any port a cargo to Surat or Canton
as freely as he now sent a cargo to Hamburg or Lisbon. [174] In our time
these doctrines may probably be considered, not only as sound, but
as trite and obvious. In the seventeenth century, however, they were
thought paradoxical. It was then generally held to be a certain, and
indeed an almost selfevident truth, that our trade with the countries
lying beyond the Cape of Good Hope could be advantageously carried on
only by means of a great Joint Stock Company. There was no analogy,
it was said, between our European trade and our Indian trade. Our
government had diplomatic relations with the European States. If
necessary, a maritime force could easily be sent from hence to the mouth
of the Elbe or of the Tagus. But the English Kings had no envoy at the
Court of Agra or Pekin. There was seldom a single English man of war
within ten thousand miles of the Bay of Bengal or of the Gulf of Siam.
As our merchants could not, in those remote seas, be protected by
their Sovereign, they must protect themselves, and must, for that
end, exercise some of the rights of sovereignty. They must have forts,
garrisons and armed ships. They must have power to send and receive
embassies, to make a treaty of alliance with one Asiatic prince, to wage
war on another. It was evidently impossible that every merchant should
have this power independently of the rest. The merchants trading to
India must therefore be joined together in a corporation which could act
as one man. In support of these arguments the example of the Dutch was
cited, and was generally considered as decisive. For in that age the
immense prosperity of Holland was every where regarded with admiration,
not the less earnest because it was largely mingled with envy and
hatred. In all that related to trade, her statesmen were considered as
oracles, and her institutions as models.
The great majority, therefore, of those who assailed the Company
assailed it, not because it traded on joint funds and possessed
exclusive privileges, but because it was ruled by one man, and because
his rule had been mischievous to the public, and beneficial only to
himself and his creatures. The obvious remedy, it was said, for the
evils which his maladministration had produced was to transfer the
monopoly to a new corporation so constituted as to be in no danger of
falling under the dominion either of a despot or of a narrow oligarchy.
Many persons who were desirous to be members of such a corporation,
formed themselves into a society, signed an engagement, and entrusted
the care of their interests to a committee which contained some of the
chief traders of the City. This society, though it had, in the eye of
the law, no personality, was early designated, in popular speech, as
the New Company; and the hostilities between the New Company and the Old
Company soon caused almost as much excitement and anxiety, at least
in that busy hive of which the Royal Exchange was the centre, as the
hostilities between the Allies and the French King. The headquarters of
the younger association were in Dowgate; the Skinners lent their stately
hall; and the meetings were held in a parlour renowned for the fragrance
which exhaled from a magnificent wainscot of cedar. [175]
While the contention was hottest, important news arrived from India,
and was announced in the London Gazette as in the highest degree
satisfactory. Peace had been concluded between the great Mogul and the
English. That mighty potentate had not only withdrawn his troops from
the factories, but had bestowed on the Company privileges such as it had
never before enjoyed. Soon, however, appeared a very different version
of the story. The enemies of Child had, before this time, accused him
of systematically publishing false intelligence. He had now, they said,
outlied himself. They had obtained a true copy of the Firman which had
put an end to the war; and they printed a translation of it. It
appeared that Aurengzebe had contemptuously granted to the English, in
consideration of their penitence and of a large tribute, his forgiveness
for their past delinquency, had charged them to behave themselves better
for the future, and had, in the tone of a master, laid on them his
commands to remove the principal offender, Sir John Child, from power
and trust. The death of Sir John occurred so seasonably that these
commands could not be obeyed. But it was only too evident that the
pacification which the rulers of the India House had represented
as advantageous and honourable had really been effected on terms
disgraceful to the English name. [176]
During the summer of 1691, the controversy which raged on this subject
between the Leadenhall Street Company and the Dowgate Company kept the
City in constant agitation. In the autumn, the Parliament had no sooner
met than both the contending parties presented petitions to the House
of Commons. [177] The petitions were immediately taken into serious
consideration, and resolutions of grave importance were passed. The
first resolution was that the trade with the East Indies was beneficial
to the kingdom; the second was that the trade with the East Indies
would be best carried on by a joint stock company possessed of
exclusive privileges. [178] It was plain, therefore, that neither those
manufacturers who wished to prohibit the trade, nor those merchants at
the outports who wished to throw it open, had the smallest chance of
attaining their objects. The only question left was the question
between the Old and the New Company. Seventeen years elapsed before that
question ceased to disturb both political and commercial circles. It was
fatal to the honour and power of one great minister, and to the peace
and prosperity of many private families. The tracts which the rival
bodies put forth against each other were innumerable. If the drama of
that age may be trusted, the feud between the India House and Skinners'
Hall was sometimes as serious an impediment to the course of true love
in London as the feud of the Capulets and Montagues had been at Verona.
[179] Which of the two contending parties was the stronger it is not
easy to say. The New Company was supported by the Whigs, the Old Company
by the Tories. The New Company was popular; for it promised largely,
and could not be accused of having broken its promises; it made no
dividends, and therefore was not envied; it had no power to oppress,
and had therefore been guilty of no oppression. The Old Company, though
generally regarded with little favour by the public, had the immense
advantage of being in possession, and of having only to stand on the
defensive. The burden of framing a plan for the regulation of the India
trade, and of proving that plan to be better than the plan hitherto
followed, lay on the New Company. The Old Company had merely to find
objections to every change that was proposed; and such objections there
was little difficulty in finding. The members of the New Company were
ill provided with the means of purchasing support at Court and in
Parliament. They had no corporate existence, no common treasury. If
any of them gave a bribe, he gave it out of his own pocket, with little
chance of being reimbursed. But the Old Company, though surrounded
by dangers, still held its exclusive privileges, and still made its
enormous profits. Its stock had indeed gone down greatly in value since
the golden days of Charles the Second; but a hundred pounds still sold
for a hundred and twenty-two. [180] After a large dividend had been paid
to the proprietors, a surplus remained amply sufficient, in those
days, to corrupt half a cabinet; and this surplus was absolutely at the
disposal of one able, determined and unscrupulous man, who maintained
the fight with wonderful art and pertinacity.
The majority of the Commons wished to effect a compromise, to retain the
Old Company, but to remodel it, to impose on it new conditions, and to
incorporate with it the members of the New Company. With this view it
was, after long and vehement debates and close divisions, resolved that
the capital should be increased to a million and a half. In order to
prevent a single person or a small junto from domineering over the whole
society, it was determined that five thousand pounds of stock should
be the largest quantity that any single proprietor could hold, and that
those who held more should be required to sell the overplus at any price
not below par. In return for the exclusive privilege of trading to the
Eastern seas, the Company was to be required to furnish annually five
hundred tons of saltpetre to the Crown at a low price, and to export
annually English manufactures to the value of two hundred thousand
pounds. [181]
A bill founded on these resolutions was brought in, read twice, and
committed, but was suffered to drop in consequence of the positive
refusal of Child and his associates to accept the offered terms. He
objected to every part of the plan; and his objections are highly
curious and amusing. The great monopolist took his stand on the
principles of free trade. In a luminous and powerfully written paper he
exposed the absurdity of the expedients which the House of Commons had
devised. To limit the amount of stock which might stand in a single name
would, he said, be most unreasonable. Surely a proprietor whose whole
fortune was staked on the success of the Indian trade was far more
likely to exert all his faculties vigorously for the promotion of that
trade than a proprietor who had risked only what it would be no great
disaster to lose. The demand that saltpetre should be furnished to the
Crown for a fixed sum Child met by those arguments, familiar to our
generation, which prove that prices should be left to settle themselves.
To the demand that the Company should bind itself to export annually two
hundred thousand pounds' worth of English manufactures he very properly
replied that the Company would most gladly export two millions' worth
if the market required such a supply, and that, if the market were
overstocked, it would be mere folly to send good cloth half round the
world to be eaten by white ants. It was never, he declared with much
spirit, found politic to put trade into straitlaced bodices, which,
instead of making it grow upright and thrive, must either kill it or
force it awry.
The Commons, irritated by Child's obstinacy, presented an address
requesting the King to dissolve the Old Company, and to grant a charter
to a new Company on such terms as to His Majesty's wisdom might seem
fit. [182] It is plainly implied in the terms of this address that
the Commons thought the King constitutionally competent to grant an
exclusive privilege of trading to the East Indies.
The King replied that the subject was most important, that he would
consider it maturely, and that he would, at a future time, give the
House a more precise answer. [183] In Parliament nothing more was said
on the subject during that session; but out of Parliament the war was
fiercer than ever; and the belligerents were by no means scrupulous
about the means which they employed. The chief weapons of the New
Company were libels; the chief weapons of the Old Company were bribes.
In the same week in which the bill for the regulation of the Indian
trade was suffered to drop, another bill which had produced great
excitement and had called forth an almost unprecedented display of
parliamentary ability, underwent the same fate.
During the eight years which preceded the Revolution, the Whigs had
complained bitterly, and not more bitterly than justly, of the hard
measure dealt out to persons accused of political offences. Was it not
monstrous, they asked, that a culprit should be denied a sight of his
indictment? Often an unhappy prisoner had not known of what he was
accused till he had held up his hand at the bar. The crime imputed to
him might be plotting to shoot the King; it might be plotting to poison
the King. The more innocent the defendant was, the less likely he was
to guess the nature of the charge on which he was to be tried; and how
could he have evidence ready to rebut a charge the nature of which
he could not guess? The Crown had power to compel the attendance of
witnesses. The prisoner had no such power. If witnesses voluntarily came
forward to speak in his favour, they could not be sworn. Their testimony
therefore made less impression on a jury than the testimony of the
witnesses for the prosecution, whose veracity was guaranteed by the most
solemn sanctions of law and of religion. The juries, carefully selected
by Sheriffs whom the Crown had named, were men animated by the fiercest
party spirit, men who had as little tenderness for an Exclusionist of a
Dissenter as for a mad dog. The government was served by a band of able,
experienced and unprincipled lawyers, who could, by merely glancing over
a brief, distinguish every weak and every strong point of a case,
whose presence of mind never failed them, whose flow of speech was
inexhaustible, and who had passed their lives in dressing up the worse
reason so as to make it appear the better. Was it not horrible to see
three or four of these shrewd, learned and callous orators arrayed
against one poor wretch who had never in his life uttered a word in
public, who was ignorant of the legal definition of treason and of the
first principles of the law of evidence, and whose intellect, unequal
at best to a fencing match with professional gladiators, was confused by
the near prospect of a cruel and ignominious death? Such however was the
rule; and even for a man so much stupefied by sickness that he could not
hold up his hand or make his voice heard, even for a poor old woman who
understood nothing of what was passing except that she was going to be
roasted alive for doing an act of charity, no advocate was suffered to
utter a word. That a state trial so conducted was little better than a
judicial murder had been, during the proscription of the Whig party, a
fundamental article of the Whig creed. The Tories, on the other
hand, though they could not deny that there had been some hard cases,
maintained that, on the whole, substantial justice had been done.
Perhaps a few seditious persons who had gone very near to the frontier
of treason, but had not actually passed that frontier, might have
suffered as traitors. But was that a sufficient reason for enabling the
chiefs of the Rye House Plot and of the Western Insurrection to elude,
by mere chicanery, the punishment of their guilt? On what principle
was the traitor to have chances of escape which were not allowed to the
felon? The culprit who was accused of larceny was subject to all the
same disadvantages which, in the case of regicides and rebels, were
thought so unjust; ye nobody pitied him. Nobody thought it monstrous
that he should not have time to study a copy of his indictment, that his
witnesses should be examined without being sworn, that he should be
left to defend himself, without the help of counsel against the best
abilities which the Inns of Court could furnish. The Whigs, it seemed,
reserved all their compassion for those crimes which subvert government
and dissolve the whole frame of human society. Guy Faux was to be
treated with an indulgence which was not to be extended to a shoplifter.
Bradshaw was to have privileges which were refused to a boy who had
robbed a henroost.
The Revolution produced, as was natural, some change in the sentiments
of both the great parties. In the days when none but Roundheads and
Nonconformists were accused of treason, even the most humane and upright
Cavaliers were disposed to think that the laws which were the safeguard
of the throne could hardly be too severe. But, as soon as loyal Tory
gentlemen and venerable fathers of the Church were in danger of being
called in question for corresponding with Saint Germains, a new light
flashed on many understandings which had been unable to discover the
smallest injustice in the proceedings against Algernon Sidney and Alice
Lisle. It was no longer thought utterly absurd to maintain that some
advantages which were withheld from a man accused of felony might
reasonably be allowed to a man accused of treason. What probability
was there that any sheriff would pack a jury, that any barrister would
employ all the arts of sophistry and rhetoric, that any judge would
strain law and misrepresent evidence, in order to convict an innocent
person of burglary or sheep stealing? But on a trial for high treason
a verdict of acquittal must always be considered as a defeat of
the government; and there was but too much reason to fear that many
sheriffs, barristers and judges might be impelled by party spirit, or by
some baser motive, to do any thing which might save the government from
the inconvenience and shame of a defeat. The cry of the whole body
of Tories was that the lives of good Englishmen who happened to be
obnoxious to the ruling powers were not sufficiently protected; and
this cry was swelled by the voices of some lawyers who had distinguished
themselves by the malignant zeal and dishonest ingenuity with which they
had conducted State prosecutions in the days of Charles and James.
The feeling of the Whigs, though it had not, like the feeling of the
Tories, undergone a complete change, was yet not quite what it had been.
Some, who had thought it most unjust that Russell should have no counsel
and that Cornish should have no copy of his indictment, now began to
mutter that the times had changed; that the dangers of the State were
extreme; that liberty, property, religion, national independence, were
all at stake; that many Englishmen were engaged in schemes of which the
object was to make England the slave of France and of Rome; and that
it would be most unwise to relax, at such a moment, the laws against
political offences. It was true that the injustice with which, in the
late reigns, State trials had been conducted, had given great scandal.
But this injustice was to be ascribed to the bad kings and bad judges
with whom the nation had been cursed. William was now on the throne;
Holt was seated for life on the bench; and William would never exact,
nor would Holt ever perform, services so shameful and wicked as those
for which the banished tyrant had rewarded Jeffreys with riches and
titles. This language however was at first held but by few. The Whigs,
as a party, seem to have felt that they could not honourably defend, in
the season of their prosperity, what, in the time of their adversity,
they had always designated as a crying grievance. A bill for regulating
trials in cases of high treason was brought into the House of Commons,
and was received with general applause. Treby had the courage to make
some objections; but no division took place. The chief enactments were
that no person should be convicted of high treason committed more than
three years before the indictment was found; that every person indicted
for high treason should be allowed to avail himself of the assistance of
counsel, and should be furnished, ten days before the trial, with a copy
of the indictment, and with a list of the freeholders from among whom
the jury was to be taken; that his witnesses should be sworn, and that
they should be cited by the same process by which the attendance of the
witnesses against him was secured.
The Bill went to the Upper House, and came back with an important
amendment. The Lords had long complained of the anomalous and iniquitous
constitution of that tribunal which had jurisdiction over them in cases
of life and death. When a grand jury has found a bill of indictment
against a temporal peer for any offence higher than a misdemeanour, the
Crown appoints a Lord High Steward; and in the Lord High Steward's
Court the case is tried. This Court was anciently composed in two very
different ways. It consisted, if Parliament happened to be sitting, of
all the members of the Upper House. When Parliament was not sitting, the
Lord High Steward summoned any twelve or more peers at his discretion
to form a jury. The consequence was that a peer accused of high treason
during a recess was tried by a jury which his prosecutors had packed.
The Lords now demanded that, during a recess as well as during a
session, every peer accused of high treason should be tried by the whole
body of the peerage.
The demand was resisted by the House of Commons with a vehemence and
obstinacy which men of the present generation may find it difficult to
understand. The truth is that some invidious privileges of peerage
which have since been abolished, and others which have since fallen
into entire desuetude, were then in full force, and were daily used.
No gentleman who had had a dispute with a nobleman could think, without
indignation, of the advantages enjoyed by the favoured caste. If His
Lordship were sued at law, his privilege enabled him to impede the
course of justice. If a rude word were spoken of him, such a word as
he might himself utter with perfect impunity, he might vindicate his
insulted dignity both by civil and criminal proceedings. If a barrister,
in the discharge of his duty to a client, spoke with severity of the
conduct of a noble seducer, if an honest squire on the racecourse
applied the proper epithets to the tricks of a noble swindler, the
affronted patrician had only to complain to the proud and powerful body
of which he was a member. His brethren made his cause their own. The
offender was taken into custody by Black Rod, brought to the bar, flung
into prison, and kept there till he was glad to obtain forgiveness by
the most degrading submissions. Nothing could therefore be more natural
than that an attempt of the Peers to obtain any new advantage for their
order should be regarded by the Commons with extreme jealousy. There is
strong reason to suspect that some able Whig politicians, who thought it
dangerous to relax, at that moment, the laws against political offences,
but who could not, without incurring the charge of inconsistency,
declare themselves adverse to any relaxation, had conceived a hope that
they might, by fomenting the dispute about the Court of the Lord High
Steward, defer for at least a year the passing of a bill which they
disliked, and yet could not decently oppose. If this really was their
plan, it succeeded perfectly. The Lower House rejected the amendment;
the Upper House persisted; a free conference was held; and the question
was argued with great force and ingenuity on both sides.
The reasons in favour of the amendment are obvious, and indeed at first
sight seem unanswerable. It was surely difficult to defend a system
under which the Sovereign nominated a conclave of his own creatures to
decide the fate of men whom he regarded as his mortal enemies. And could
any thing be more absurd than that a nobleman accused of high treason
should be entitled to be tried by the whole body of his peers if his
indictment happened to be brought into the House of Lords the minute
before a prorogation, but that, if the indictment arrived a minute after
the prorogation, he should be at the mercy of a small junto named by the
very authority which prosecuted him? That any thing could have been said
on the other side seems strange; but those who managed the conference
for the Commons were not ordinary men, and seem on this occasion to have
put forth all their powers. Conspicuous among them was Charles Montague,
who was rapidly attaining a foremost rank among the orators of that age.
To him the lead seems on this occasion to have been left; and to his pen
we owe an account of the discussion, which gives a very high notion
of his talents for debate. "We have framed"--such was in substance his
reasoning,--"we have framed a law which has in it nothing exclusive,
a law which will be a blessing to every class, from the highest to
the lowest. The new securities, which we propose to give to innocence
oppressed by power, are common between the premier peer and the humblest
day labourer. The clause which establishes a time of limitation for
prosecutions protects us all alike. To every Englishman accused of
the highest crime against the state, whatever be his rank, we give the
privilege of seeing his indictment, the privilege of being defended
by counsel, the privilege of having his witnesses summoned by writ of
subpoena and sworn on the Holy Gospels. Such is the bill which we sent
up to your Lordships; and you return it to us with a clause of which the
effect is to give certain advantages to your noble order at the expense
of the ancient prerogatives of the Crown. Surely before we consent to
take away from the King any power which his predecessors have possessed
for ages, and to give it to your Lordships, we ought to be satisfied
that you are more likely to use it well than he. Something we must risk;
somebody we must trust; and; since we are forced, much against our will,
to institute what is necessarily an invidious comparison, we must own
ourselves unable to discover any reason for believing that a prince is
less to be trusted than an aristocracy.
"Is it reasonable, you ask, that you should be tried for your lives
before a few members of your House, selected by the Crown? Is it
reasonable, we ask in our turn, that you should have the privilege of
being tried by all the members of your House, that is to say, by your
brothers, your uncles, your first cousins, your second cousins, your
fathers in law, your brothers in law, your most intimate friends? You
marry so much into each other's families, you live so much in each
other's society, that there is scarcely a nobleman who is not connected
by consanguinity or affinity with several others, and who is not on
terms of friendship with several more. There have been great men
whose death put a third or fourth part of the baronage of England into
mourning. Nor is there much danger that even those peers who may be
unconnected with an accused lord will be disposed to send him to the
block if they can with decency say 'Not Guilty, upon my honour.' For
the ignominious death of a single member of a small aristocratical body
necessarily leaves a stain on the reputation of his fellows. If, indeed,
your Lordships proposed that every one of your body should be compelled
to attend and vote, the Crown might have some chance of obtaining
justice against a guilty peer, however strongly connected. But you
propose that attendance shall be voluntary. Is it possible to doubt what
the consequence will be? All the prisoner's relations and friends will
be in their places to vote for him. Good nature and the fear of making
powerful enemies will keep away many who, if they voted at all, would
be forced by conscience and honour to vote against him. The new system
which you propose would therefore evidently be unfair to the Crown; and
you do not show any reason for believing that the old system has been
found in practice unfair to yourselves. We may confidently affirm that,
even under a government less just and merciful than that under which we
have the happiness to live, an innocent peer has little to fear from
any set of peers that can be brought together in Westminster Hall to
try him. How stands the fact? In what single case has a guiltless head
fallen by the verdict of this packed jury? It would be easy to make out
a long list of squires, merchants, lawyers, surgeons, yeomen, artisans,
ploughmen, whose blood, barbarously shed during the late evil times,
cries for vengeance to heaven. But what single member of your House,
in our days, or in the days of our fathers, or in the days of our
grandfathers, suffered death unjustly by sentence of the Court of
the Lord High Steward? Hundreds of the common people were sent to
the gallows by common juries for the Rye House Plot and the Western
Insurrection. One peer, and one alone, my Lord Delamere, was brought
at that time before the Court of the Lord High Steward; and he was
acquitted. But, it is said, the evidence against him was legally
insufficient. Be it so. So was the evidence against Sidney, against
Cornish, against Alice Lisle; yet it sufficed to destroy them. But,
it is said, the peers before whom my Lord Delamere was brought were
selected with shameless unfairness by King James and by Jeffreys. Be it
so. But this only proves that, under the worst possible King, and under
the worst possible High Steward, a lord tried by lords has a better
chance for life than a commoner who puts himself on his country. We
cannot, therefore, under the mild government which we now possess, feel
much apprehension for the safety of any innocent peer. Would that we
felt as little apprehension for the safety of that government! But it is
notorious that the settlement with which our liberties are inseparably
bound up is attacked at once by foreign and by domestic enemies. We
cannot consent at such a crisis to relax the restraints which have, it
may well be feared, already proved too feeble to prevent some men of
high rank from plotting the ruin of their country. To sum up the whole,
what is asked of us is that we will consent to transfer a certain power
from their Majesties to your Lordships. Our answer is that, at this
time, in our opinion, their Majesties have not too much power, and your
Lordships have quite power enough."
These arguments, though eminently ingenious, and not without real force,
failed to convince the Upper House. The Lords insisted that every peer
should be entitled to be a Trier. The Commons were with difficulty
induced to consent that the number of Triers should never be less than
thirty-six, and positively refused to make any further concession. The
bill was therefore suffered to drop. [184]
It is certain that those who in the conference on this bill represented
the Commons, did not exaggerate the dangers to which the government was
exposed. While the constitution of the Court which was to try peers for
treason was under discussion, a treason planned with rare skill by a
peer was all but carried into execution.
Marlborough had never ceased to assure the Court of Saint Germains that
the great crime which he had committed was constantly present to his
thoughts, and that he lived only for the purpose of repentance and
reparation. Not only had he been himself converted; he had also
converted the Princess Anne. In 1688, the Churchills had, with little
difficulty, induced her to fly from her father's palace. In 1691, they,
with as little difficulty, induced her to copy out and sign a letter
expressing her deep concern for his misfortunes and her earnest wish to
atone for her breach of duty. [185] At the same time Marlborough held
out hopes that it might be in his power to effect the restoration of
his old master in the best possible way, without the help of a single
foreign soldier or sailor, by the votes of the English Lords and
Commons, and by the support of the English army. We are not fully
informed as to all the details of his plan. But the outline is known to
us from a most interesting paper written by James, of which one copy is
in the Bodleian Library, and another among the archives of the French
Foreign Office.
The jealousy with which the English regarded the Dutch was at this time
intense. There had never been a hearty friendship between the nations.
They were indeed near of kin to each other. They spoke two dialects of
one widespread language. Both boasted of their political freedom. Both
were attached to the reformed faith. Both were threatened by the same
enemy, and would be safe only while they were united. Yet there was no
cordial feeling between them. They would probably have loved each other
more, if they had, in some respects, resembled each other less. They
were the two great commercial nations, the two great maritime nations.
In every sea their flags were found together, in the Baltic and in the
Mediterranean, in the Gulf of Mexico and in the Straits of Malacca.
Every where the merchant of London and the merchant of Amsterdam were
trying to forestall each other and to undersell each other. In Europe
the contest was not sanguinary. But too often, in barbarous countries,
where there was no law but force, the competitors had met, burning with
cupidity, burning with animosity, armed for battle, each suspecting
the other of hostile designs and each resolved to give the other no
advantage. In such circumstances it is not strange that many violent
and cruel acts should have been perpetrated. What had been done in those
distant regions could seldom be exactly known in Europe. Every thing
was exaggerated and distorted by vague report and by national prejudice.
Here it was the popular belief that the English were always blameless,
and that every quarrel was to be ascribed to the avarice and inhumanity
of the Dutch. Lamentable events which had taken place in the Spice
Islands were repeatedly brought on our stage. The Englishmen were
all saints and heroes; the Dutchmen all fiends in human shape, lying,
robbing, ravishing, murdering, torturing. The angry passions which these
pieces indicated had more than once found vent in war. Thrice in the
lifetime of one generation the two nations had contended, with equal
courage and with various fortune, for the sovereignty of the German
Ocean. The tyranny of James, as it had reconciled Tories to Whigs and
Churchmen to Nonconformists, had also reconciled the English to the
Dutch. While our ancestors were looking to the Hague for deliverance,
the massacre of Amboyna and the great humiliation of Chatham had seemed
to be forgotten. But since the Revolution the old feeling had revived.
Though England and Holland were now closely bound together by treaty,
they were as far as ever from being bound together by affection. Once,
just after the battle of Beachy Head, our countrymen had seemed disposed
to be just; but a violent reaction speedily followed. Torrington, who
deserved to be shot, became a popular favourite; and the allies whom
he had shamefully abandoned were accused of persecuting him without a
cause. The partiality shown by the King to the companions of his youth
was the favourite theme of the sewers of sedition. The most lucrative
posts in his household, it was said, were held by Dutchmen; the House
of Lords was fast filling with Dutchmen; the finest manors of the Crown
were given to Dutchmen; the army was commanded by Dutchmen. That it
would have been wise in William to exhibit somewhat less obtrusively his
laudable fondness for his native country, and to remunerate his early
friends somewhat more sparingly, is perfectly true. But it will not be
easy to prove that, on any important occasion during his whole reign,
he sacrificed the interests of our island to the interests of the United
Provinces. The English, however, were on this subject prone to fits of
jealousy which made them quite incapable of listening to reason. One of
the sharpest of those fits came on in the autumn of 1691. The antipathy
to the Dutch was at that time strong in all classes, and nowhere
stronger than in the Parliament and in the army. [186]
Of that antipathy Marlborough determined to avail himself for the
purpose, as he assured James and James's adherents, of effecting a
restoration. The temper of both Houses was such that they might not
improbably be induced by skilful management to present a joint address
requesting that all foreigners might be dismissed from the service of
their Majesties. Marlborough undertook to move such an address in the
Lords; and there would have been no difficulty in finding some gentleman
of great weight to make a similar motion in the Commons.
If the address should be carried, what could William do? Would he yield?
Would he discard all his dearest, his oldest, his most trusty friends?
It was hardly possible to believe that he would make so painful, so
humiliating a concession. If he did not yield, there would be a rupture
between him and the Parliament; and the Parliament would be backed by
the people. Even a King reigning by a hereditary title might well shrink
from such a contest with the Estates of the Realm. But to a King whose
title rested on a resolution of the Estates of the Realm such a contest
must almost necessarily be fatal. The last hope of William would be in
the army. The army Marlborough undertook to manage; and it is highly
probable that what he undertook he could have performed. His courage,
his abilities, his noble and winning manners, the splendid success which
had attended him on every occasion on which he had been in command, had
made him, in spite of his sordid vices, a favourite with his brethren
in arms. They were proud of having one countryman who had shown that he
wanted nothing but opportunity to vie with the ablest Marshal of France.
The Dutch were even more disliked by the English troops than by the
English nation generally. Had Marlborough therefore, after securing the
cooperation of some distinguished officers, presented himself at the
critical moment to those regiments which he had led to victory in
Flanders and in Ireland, had he called on them to rally round him, to
protect the Parliament, and to drive out the aliens, there is strong
reason to think that the call would have been obeyed. He would then have
had it in his power to fulfil the promises which he had so solemnly made
to his old master.
Of all the schemes ever formed for the restoration of James or of his
descendants, this scheme promised the fairest. That national pride, that
hatred of arbitrary power, which had hitherto been on William's side,
would now be turned against him. Hundreds of thousands who would have
put their lives in jeopardy to prevent a French army from imposing a
government on the English, would have felt no disposition to prevent an
English army from driving out the Dutch. Even the Whigs could scarcely,
without renouncing their old doctrines, support a prince who obstinately
refused to comply with the general wish of his people signified to him
by his Parliament. The plot looked well. An active canvass was made.
Many members of the House of Commons, who did not at all suspect that
there was any ulterior design, promised to vote against the foreigners.
Marlborough was indefatigable in inflaming the discontents of the army.
His house was constantly filled with officers who heated each other into
fury by talking against the Dutch. But, before the preparations
were complete, a strange suspicion rose in the minds of some of the
Jacobites. That the author of this bold and artful scheme wished to pull
down the existing government there could be little doubt. But was it
quite certain what government he meant to set up? Might he not depose
William without restoring James? Was it not possible that a man so wise,
so aspiring, and so wicked, might be meditating a double treason, such
as would have been thought a masterpiece of statecraft by the great
Italian politicians of the fifteenth century, such as Borgia would have
envied, such as Machiavel would have extolled to the skies?