CHAPTER III

THE GREAT CIVIL WAR

"The lawful power of making laws to command whole politic societies

of men, belongeth so properly to the same entire societies, that

for any prince or potentate of what kind soever upon earth, to

exercise the same of himself, and not either by express commission

immediately and personally received from God, or else by authority

derived at the first from their consent, upon whose persons they

impose laws, it is no better than mere tyranny. Laws they are not

therefore which public approbation hath not made so."--HOOKER,

_Ecclesiastical Polity_.

When Chillingworth's great work was published, in 1637, the last of the

Tudors, after having outlived her popularity, had passed to her rest, as

had also her most unworthy successor, whose insolence had outraged, but

whose weakness had strengthened, the awakening spirit of liberty, and

who, as Macaulay well expresses it,[23:1] "was, in truth, one of those

kings whom God seems to send for the express purpose of hastening

revolutions." To him had succeeded his most worthy son: a king whose

perfidy and duplicity were only equalled by his self-complacency and

power of self-deception, who never looked facts in the face, but

placidly expected them to conform to his own petty desires, and whose

dignified death failed to atone for a life devoted to ignoble personal

ends, by crooked ways and treacherous means; a king peculiarly incapable

of taking a broad statesman-like view of any question, who manifested no

thought for the interests of the people of whom he regarded himself as

ruler by right divine, whose futile domestic policy was inspired solely

by considerations for the advancement of his own personal power, whose

feeble and shifty foreign policy was determined only by considerations

for his own family interests, who intrigued with France against Spain,

with Spain against France, with both against Holland, and with Holland

against both, and with France, Spain, Holland, and Rome against his own

subjects, with English Presbyterians against English Independents, with

English Independents against English Presbyterians, and with Irish

Catholics and Scotch Presbyterians against both English Presbyterians

and Independents, and who yet succeeded in deceiving nobody but himself,

and in satisfying nobody, not even himself; a king whose love was far

more dangerous than his hate, a worthy patron of a Buckingham, a Goring,

or of a Laud, but unworthy the genius of a Shaftesbury or the loyal

services of a Verney, a Montrose, or a Worcester; a king, in short,

treacherous to his friends, faithless to his word, who went to his

wedding and came to his throne with a lie on his lips,[24:1] whom, again

to use the words of Macaulay,[24:2] "no law could bind, and whose whole

government was one system of wrong," of whom even the conservative and

partial Hallam is forced to admit[24:3] that "it would be difficult to

name any violation of law he had not committed." Even the famous

Petition of Right, to which some nine years previously, in 1628, he had

given a solemn, though reluctant, consent, had been ruthlessly violated.

Taxes had been levied by the Royal authority; patents of monopoly had

been granted; the course of justice had been tampered with, and judges

arbitrarily deposed; troops had been billeted upon the people; old

feudal usages had been revived for the express purpose of harassing and

defrauding the citizens; and, as if to exhaust every means to sap the

loyalty and wear out the patience of the people, Puritans of every shade

of opinion had not only been silenced but relentlessly persecuted, while

High Church bishops preached passive obedience, declaring the persons

and the property of subjects to be at the absolute disposal of the

sovereign, and in the name of religion inaugurating a systematic attack

on the rights and liberties of the nation.

The people whose representatives a quarter of a century previously, in

1604, had met the insolent claims of James the First with the dignified

rejoinder, that "your Majesty should be misinformed if any man should

deliver that the kings of England have any absolute power in themselves

either to alter religion, or to make any laws concerning the same,

otherwise than in temporal causes by consent of Parliament,"[25:1] were,

however, not easily to be intimidated. Despite a Royal order to adjourn,

the House of Commons of 1629, holding the Speaker by force in the Chair,

supported the immortal Eliot in his last assertion of English liberty,

and by successive resolutions declared that whosoever shall bring in

innovations in religion, or whosoever shall counsel or advise the taking

and levying of the subsidies of tonnage and poundage, not being granted

by Parliament, "a capital enemy to this kingdom and commonwealth," and

any person voluntarily yielding or paying the said subsidies, not being

granted by Parliament, "a betrayer of the liberty of England, and an

enemy to the same."[25:2] Having thus flung their defiance in the face

of the King, the House then voted its own adjournment.

From that time events had marched quickly. Those who had played the most

prominent parts in that momentous scene, including Holles, Selden, and

Eliot, had been thrown into prison, the last-named to die there, the

first martyr to the growing cause of civil freedom and religious

liberty. In 1637, the year of the publication of Chillingworth's work,

the whole question of the right to levy taxation was revived by the

demand on the inland counties for ship-money, and the attention of the

whole country attracted to it by the trial of Hampden on his refusal to

pay same. Later in the year, Charles' attempt to alter the

ecclesiastical constitution and form of public worship in Scotland led,

first to discontent, then to riot, and finally to open rebellion. As a

direct consequence, the King, in April 1640, was compelled to call what

from its brief duration is known as the Short Parliament, in which,

thanks to the Parliamentary tactics of Hampden, the design of the Court

Party, to obtain supplies without redressing grievances, was

constitutionally thwarted. On the manifestation of its determination to

redress wrongs and to vindicate the laws, this Parliament was at once

dissolved. The end of the tyranny, however, was fast approaching. In

August of the same year the King marched northward; the Scotch crossed

the border to meet him; on their approach the disaffected English army

was well pleased to fly rather than to fight those whom they were

inclined to regard as deliverers rather than as enemies; a truce was

patched up, and to meet the critical situation the King, in November

1640, found himself compelled to summon his last and most famous

Parliament, known in history as the Long Parliament.

The temper of the new Parliament, in which Pym and Hampden at first

exercised a paramount influence, was very different from that of any of

its predecessors. Recent events had convinced its leading members that

half measures would be worse than useless. During its first session,

Strafford and Laud, the two main supporters of absolute government and

religious tyranny, were impeached and imprisoned; those whom the King

had employed as instruments of oppression were called to account for

their conduct; the Star Chamber, the Court of High Commission and the

Council of York, were abolished; ship-money was declared illegal, and

the judgement in Hampden's case was annulled; the victims of the recent

religious persecutions were set at liberty, and conducted through London

in triumph; old oppressive feudal powers still appertaining to the Crown

were swept away; the King was made to give the judges patents for life

or during good behaviour; the Forest and Stannary Courts were reformed;

Triennial Parliaments were established; and, finally, it was provided

that the Parliament then sitting should not be prorogued or dissolved

save by its own consent.

After the recess the difficulties and dangers of the situation

increased daily. Revolt, popularly regarded as fomented by the Court

Party, had broken out in Ireland; the King, evidently seeking power and

opportunity to retract the concessions he had made, was seeking aid in

all directions--Rome, France, Spain, and was intriguing in Scotland; the

air was full of rumours of a plot of the Court to bring down the army in

the North to overawe the Parliament; and the moderate men,--"that is to

say, men who never go to the bottom of any difficulty," as Gardiner

expresses it,--by whose aid the above changes had been effected, were

inclined to pause, if not to retrace their steps. Under these

circumstances the popular leaders in the House of Commons, in November

1641, framed and passed the Great Remonstrance, which was practically an

address to the nation, to justify their past action and to appeal for

further support. In this famous document all the oppressive and

arbitrary acts of the past fifteen years were narrated in impressive

language; a detailed account was given of the necessary work already

accomplished, of the dangers and difficulties yet to be surmounted,

declaring the purpose of the House to be, not to abolish Episcopacy, but

to reduce the power of the bishops; and, finally, indicating the line of

future constitutional reform by urging that the King should employ no

Ministers save those in whom the Parliament could place confidence.

Contrary to expectation, the debate on the Remonstrance was long and

stormy, and the division--it was only carried in a full House by a

majority of nine--showed plainly that a reaction in favour of the King

had already begun. Charles had now a final opportunity of regaining the

confidence of the representatives of the nation, and for a few days it

seemed as if he were inclined to follow a moderate, dignified and

constitutional course. But for a few days only. On the 3rd of January

1642, without giving a hint of his intentions to the constitutional

Royalists he had so recently called to his councils, and whom he had

faithfully promised to consult on all matters relating to the House of

Commons, he sent down his Attorney-General to impeach the leading

members of the House, Pym, Holles, and Haselrig, at the bar of the

House of Lords, on a charge of high treason. As Macaulay well

says,[28:1] "It would be difficult to find in the whole history of

England such an instance of tyranny, perfidy, and folly." But worse was

to follow. The Commons refused to surrender their members, and Charles

resolved on their forcible arrest on the floor of the House. The

threatened members, however, had been warned, and had taken refuge in

the City of London; their absence, together with the dignified attitude

of the remaining members, prevented the outrage ending in bloodshed: in

a bloodshed the possibility of which it is even to-day impossible to

contemplate with equanimity.

Though the Militia Bill, which would have given Parliament the control

of the armed forces of the nation, was the ostensible, this outrage on

the part of the King was the direct and mediate, cause of the outbreak

of the Civil War. "To be safe from armed violence," the Commons, as far

as the rules of the House would permit, placed themselves under the

protection of the City; and the day previous to the one fixed for their

return to St. Stephen's under the protection of the trained bands of

London, the King left Whitehall, to return to it only to pay the dire

penalty for his past offences. Both sides now actively prepared for the

inevitable struggle. Owing to Pym's forethought, the Tower was

blockaded, and the two great arsenals of Hull and Portsmouth secured for

the Parliament. Owing to the force and boldness of his language, the

House of Lords was scared out of the policy of obstruction it had taken

up. On the avowal by Parliament of the refusal of the governor of Hull

to open the gates to the King, the members of the Royalist party

withdrew from Westminster; and on August 22nd, 1642, the uplifting of

Charles' standard on a hill at Nottingham announced the outbreak of the

Civil War.

On the well-trodden ground of the progress of the war, it is unnecessary

for our purposes to dwell. The issues involved were truly tremendous.

The evolution of the English Constitution had left it undecided to whom

the supreme power in the nation did rightfully accrue: and this was,

perhaps, the most practical question at issue.[29:1] As between

Parliament and King, the question was, whether the supreme power was to

continue to be wielded by a king whose temporal jurisdiction was to be

limited only by ancient laws interpreted by judges of his own creation

and removable at his pleasure, or by the representatives of the nation

in Parliament assembled? It was left to the Model Army to remind the

members of the Long Parliament that their power, as that of "all future

representatives of this nation, is inferior only to theirs who choose

them."[29:2] However, to make both King and Church responsible to

Parliament was, in truth, the one common aim of the whole Parliamentary

party; and, as Gardiner well points out,[29:3] "every year which passed

after the Restoration made it more evident that, for the time at least,

the most substantial gains of the long conflict had fallen to those who

had concentrated their efforts on this object."

Keeping in view the reforms secured during the first session of the Long

Parliament, it may fairly be urged that everything necessary to this end

had been gained prior to the outbreak of the Civil War, everything, of

course, save the control of the sword; and this, if the King could have

been trusted, was not immediately urgent, and would necessarily have

followed the control of the purse. "If the King could have been

trusted!" In these words the key to the whole situation is to be found.

The Parliamentary leaders could not, did not, dared not, trust the

King: hence the power of the sword had to be wrested from his grasp. It

was this that made the Civil War inevitable. It was this that rendered

constitutional government, government by discussion, government by

compromise, impossible. It was this well-grounded and repeatedly

confirmed distrust of the King that, after years of war and repeated and

sincere negotiations, negotiations which only served still further to

reveal his duplicity, made the execution of the King unavoidable. As the

judicial Gardiner well says,[30:1] in summing up the causes which led to

this most solemn, impressive, and instructive event in the whole history

of England--"The situation, complicated enough already, had been still

further complicated by Charles' duplicity. Men who would have been

willing to come to terms with him, despaired of any constitutional

arrangement in which he was to be a factor; and men who had long been

alienated from him were irritated into active hostility. By these he was

regarded with increasing intensity as the one disturbing force with

which no understanding was possible and no settled order consistent. To

remove him out of the way appeared, even to those who had no thought of

punishing him for past offences, to be the only possible road to peace

for the troubled nation."

The religious issues of the great struggle, however, were by no means so

simple. Episcopacy, as it had existed, had few supporters in England

outside the ranks of the bishops. The Laudian coercion had not only

reawakened slumbering animosities and given renewed vigour to the

Puritan dislike of the forms and ceremonies of the Anglican Church, but

had served to fill men's minds with a healthy, vigorous, and deep-rooted

distrust of ecclesiastical government in any form. To any claims,

whether of kings or of bishops or of presbyters, to rule by Divine

right, the ear of the nation was temporarily closed. If Protestants of

all shades of opinions had learned to distrust Episcopacy, intellectual

men of all shades of religious beliefs, and of none, equally distrusted

Presbyterianism, and feared that the free play of intellectual life

would be as much endangered by the rule of the presbyters as by the

rule of the bishops. We should, however, do well to remember that at the

outbreak of the war most of the great Parliamentary leaders, including

Pym, Hampden, and even Cromwell, had no deep-rooted objection to

Episcopacy as a form of Church government, provided only that it was

controlled by Parliament, and allowed the fullest possible liberty of

conscience. They all shared Pym's expressed conviction that "the

greatest liberty of the kingdom is religion," and seemed to have

inclined toward the ideal of Chillingworth, a full liberty of thought

maintained within the unity of the Church. It was their necessity, not

their will, the necessity to gain the cordial co-operation of the

Scotch, that later compelled them to commit themselves to

Presbyterianism, of their profound distrust of which they gave repeated

proof. And it is worthy of special note that even in the time of their

greatest need the English Parliament, to use Gardiner's words,[31:1]

"was as disinclined as the Tudor kings had ever been to allow the

establishment in England of a Church system claiming to exist by Divine

right, or by any right whatever independent of the State."

That religious conformity was a necessary condition of national unity,

aye, even of national existence, was, however, still accepted as an

axiomatic truth by those whose mental visions were limited by inherited

conceptions. To such as these the only question at issue seems to have

been whether an Episcopalian or a Presbyterian system of Church

government should prevail. Of the claims of those who would bow the head

neither to Rome, to Geneva, nor to Canterbury, who refused to entrust

their conscience to pope, to bishop, or to presbyter, the extreme

adherents of both these systems were probably equally insensible. And

yet it was precisely such men who were to come to the front during the

coming struggle, and who, under the guidance of their great leader, were

to become the champions of that great democratic principle of

toleration, of liberty of conscience, which was the one leading

principle of his life.[31:2] It was precisely such men who were to

proclaim to the rulers of the nation--"That matters of religion and the

ways of God's worship are not at all entrusted by us to any human

power, because therein we cannot remit or exceed a tittle of what our

consciences dictate to be the mind of God without wilful sin." But who

themselves were tolerant enough to be willing that "nevertheless the

public way of instructing the nation (_so it be not compulsive_) is

referred to their discretion."[32:1]

"So it be not compulsive!" in these words we have the key to the

position of the great body of sectarians known under the name of

Independents. They recognised, to use the words of their immortal

leader, that "it's one thing to love a brother, to bear with and love a

person of different judgement in matters of religion; and another thing

to have anybody so far set in the saddle on that account, as to have all

the rest of his brethren at mercy." So it be not compulsive! in these

words, too, we have the secret of their subsequent attitude toward the

Long Parliament and its successors. As Gardiner forcibly expresses

it--"Men who longed for religious toleration with a stern conviction

were impatient of parliamentary majorities working for uniformity." To

their opponents, more especially to those of the strict Presbyterian

school, toleration may have seemed of the devil, incompatible with

individual salvation, and injurious alike to Church and to State; to the

Independents, on the other hand, it was a necessary condition of

continued existence. They had no desire to establish a State Church of

their own; they were not prepared to deny that at least "a public way of

instructing the nation" might be necessary; but they were determined

that any such Church should be tolerant of the claims of men like

themselves, who could not conform their conscience to its requirements.

To create a home of liberty out of the England of the Tudors and the

Stuarts, of Laud and of Prynne, was a task beyond even their powers. But

whatever they may have failed to accomplish, they saved England from the

ecclesiastical tyranny Presbyterianism at that time involved, and raised

the standard of liberty and toleration, which during the great struggle

obtained a hold of the mind of the nation such as it never had before,

but never entirely lost again.

At the very outbreak of the Civil War, Cromwell's aim had been to find

"men who know what they fight for, and love what they know,--men as had

the fear of God before them, as made some conscience of what they

did."[33:1] Such men soon gathered round the great Independent, and he

moulded them into the famous Ironsides, by whose aid he turned the tide

of defeat at Marston Moor, and gained the glorious victories of Naseby,

Preston, Dunbar, and Worcester. Such men stood by his side at the

momentous Army Council at Windsor, May 1st, 1648, when it was solemnly

resolved, "not any dissenting," "that it was our duty, if ever the Lord

brought us back again in peace, to call Charles Stuart, that man of

blood, to account for the blood he had shed, and mischief he had done to

his utmost, against the Lord's cause and people in these poor

nations."[33:2] It was such men who, on December 6th, 1648, to save the

kingdom from a new war or from a peace destructive of everything they

had fought for,[33:3] purged the House of Commons of its "malignant"

members; and who cut the Gordian knot of the difficulties that beset the

nation by bringing the King, who seemed to them to stand in the way of

any and every satisfactory settlement, to trial and execution (January

30th, 1649). Moreover, it was such men who most heartily concurred with

the resolution of the House of Commons (February 7th, 1649), "That it

has been found by experience ... that the office of a king in this

nation, and to have the power thereof in any single person, is

unnecessary, burdensome, and dangerous to the liberty, safety, and

public interests of the people of this nation, and therefore ought to be

abolished." And, finally, it was such men who were the main supporters

of the Council of State to whom, on February 13th, 1649, under the

control of the House of Commons, was entrusted full executive authority

over the home and foreign affairs of the nation.

FOOTNOTES:

[23:1] Macaulay's _Essays_, "John Hampden."

[24:1] In 1624, Charles had voluntarily sworn to the House of Commons

that if he married a Roman Catholic "it should be of no advantage to the

recusants at home." In the autumn of the same year, on his betrothal to

Henrietta Maria, sister to the King of France, he solemnly swore to

grant the very condition he had previously solemnly sworn never to

concede. He came to the throne early in the following year, 1625.

[24:2] _Loc. cit._

[24:3] _Constitutional History_, vol. ii. p. 81.

[25:1] The Apology of the Commons, 1604. See Gardiner's _History of

England_, 1603-1642, vol. i. pp. 180-185.

[25:2] _Ibid._ vol. vii. pp. 72-76.

[28:1] _Loc. cit._

[29:1] This was the point of view taken at the time by the Levellers,

the most active and progressive politicians of the period. In a "Humble

Petition of thousands of well affected people inhabiting the City of

London," presented September 11th, 1648, the petitioners address the

House of Commons as "the supreme authority of England," and desire it so

to consider itself. They complain that the Commons have declared their

intention not to alter the ancient government of King, Lords and

Commons, "not once mentioning, in case of difference, which of them is

supreme, but leaving that point, which was the chiefest cause of all our

public differences, disturbances, wars, and miseries, as uncertain as

ever." See _Clarke Papers_, vol. ii. p. 76.

[29:2] See "The Agreement of the People for a firm and present peace,"

as presented to the Council of the Army, October 28th, 1647. Reprinted

at the end of the third volume of Gardiner's _History of the Civil War_.

[29:3] _History of the Civil War_, vol. ii. p. 67.

[30:1] _History of the Civil War_, vol. iv. pp. 327-328.

[31:1] _History of the Civil War_, vol. iii. p. 95.

[31:2] See Appendix B.

[32:1] "The Agreement of the People for a firm and present peace."

(Italics are ours.)

[33:1] See Carlyle's _Cromwell's Letters and Speeches_, part ii. p. 135,

and part x. p. 255.

[33:2] See Gardiner's _History of the Civil War_, vol. iv. pp. 120-121.

[33:3] Cromwell seems early to have foreseen and guarded against such a

contingency. See Gardiner, _ibid._ vol. ii. p. 25.

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