CHAPTER LXIV.

CHARLES II.

{1664.} The next session of parliament discovered a continuance of the

same principles which had prevailed in all the foregoing. Monarchy and

the church were still the objects of regard and affection. During no

period of the present reign did this spirit more evidently pass the

bounds of reason and moderation.

The king, in his speech to the parliament, had ventured openly to demand

a repeal of the triennial act; and he even went so far as to declare

that, notwithstanding the law, he never would allow any parliament to

be assembled by the methods prescribed in that statute. The parliament,

without taking offence at this declaration, repealed the law; and in

lieu of all the securities formerly provided, satisfied themselves with

a general clause, “that parliament should not be interrupted above three

years at the most.” As the English parliament had now raised itself to

be a regular check and control upon royal power, it is evident that they

ought still to have preserved a regular security for their meeting,

and not have trusted entirely to the good will of the king, who, if

ambitious or enterprising, had so little reason to be pleased with these

assemblies. Before the end of Charles’s reign, the nation had occasion

to feel very sensibly the effects of this repeal.

By the act of uniformity, every clergyman who should officiate without

being properly qualified, was punishable by fine and imprisonment: but

this security was not thought sufficient for the church. It was now

enacted, that, wherever five persons above those of the same household

should assemble in a religious congregation, every one of them was

liable, for the first offence, to be imprisoned three months, or pay

five pounds; for the second, to be imprisoned six months, or pay ten

pounds; and for the third, to be transported seven years, or pay a

hundred pounds. The parliament had only in their eye the malignity of

the sectaries; they should have carried their attention further, to the

chief cause of that malignity, the restraint under which they labored.

The commons likewise passed a vote, that the wrongs, dishonors, and

indignities offered to the English by the subjects of the United

Provinces, were the greatest obstructions to all foreign trade: and they

promised to assist the king with their lives and fortunes in asserting

the rights of his crown against all opposition whatsoever. This was

the first open step towards a Dutch war. We must explain the causes and

motives of this measure.

That close union and confederacy which, during a course of near seventy

years, has subsisted, almost without interruption or jealousy, between

England and Holland, is not so much founded on the natural, unalterable

interests of these states, as on their terror of the growing power of

the French monarch, who, without their combination, it is apprehended,

would soon extend his dominion over Europe. In the first years of

Charles’s reign, when the ambitious genius of Lewis had not as yet

displayed itself, and when the great force of his people was in some

measure unknown even to themselves, the rival-ship of commerce, not

checked by any other jealousy or apprehension, had in England begotten a

violent enmity against the neighboring republic.

Trade was beginning among the English to be a matter of general concern;

but notwithstanding all their efforts and advantages, their commerce

seemed hitherto to stand upon a footing which was somewhat precarious.

The Dutch, who by industry and frugality were enabled to undersell them

in every market, retained possession of the most lucrative branches of

commerce; and the English merchants had the mortification to find, that

all attempts to extend their trade were still turned, by the vigilance

of their rivals, to their loss and dishonor. Their indignation

increased, when they considered the superior naval power of England;

the bravery of her officers and seamen; her favorable situation, which

enabled her to intercept the whole Dutch commerce. By the prospect of

these advantages, they were strongly prompted, from motives less just

and political, to make war upon the states; and at once to ravish from

them by force what they could not obtain, or could obtain but slowly, by

superior skill and industry.

The careless, unambitious temper of Charles rendered him little capable

of forming so vast a project as that of engrossing the commerce and

naval power of Europe; yet could he not remain altogether insensible

to such obvious and such tempting prospects. His genius, happily turned

towards mechanics, had inclined him to study naval affairs, which, of

all branches of business, he both loved the most and understood the

best. Though the Dutch, during his exile, had expressed towards him

more civility and friendship than he had received from any other foreign

power, the Louvestein or aristocratic faction, which at this time ruled

the commonwealth, had fallen into close union with France; and could

that party be subdued, he might hope that his nephew, the young prince

of Orange, would be reinstated in the authority possessed by his

ancestors, and would bring the states to a dependence under England. His

narrow revenues made it still requisite for him to study the humors

of his people, which now ran violently towards war; and it has been

suspected, though the suspicion was not justified by the event, that

the hopes of diverting some of the supplies to his private use were not

overlooked by this necessitous monarch.

The duke of York, more active and enterprising, pushed more eagerly the

war with Holland. He desired an opportunity of distinguishing himself:

he loved to cultivate commerce: he was at the head of a new African

company, whose trade was extremely checked by the settlements of the

Dutch: and perhaps the religious prejudices by which that prince was

always so much governed, began, even so early, to instil into him

an antipathy against a Protestant commonwealth, the bulwark of the

reformation. Clarendon and Southampton, observing that the nation was

not supported by any foreign alliance, were averse to hostilities; but

their credit was now on the decline.

By these concurring motives, the court and parliament were both of them

inclined to a Dutch war. The parliament was prorogued without voting

supplies: but as they had been induced, without any open application

from the crown, to pass that vote above mentioned against the Dutch

encroachments, it was reasonably considered as sufficient sanction for

the rigorous measures which were resolved on.

Downing, the English minister at the Hague, a man of an insolent,

impetuous temper, presented a memorial to the states, containing a list

of those depredations of which the English complained. It is remarkable,

that all the pretended depreciations preceded the year 1662, when a

treaty of league and alliance had been renewed with the Dutch; and these

complaints were then thought either so ill grounded or so frivolous,

that they had not been mentioned in the treaty. Two ships alone, the

Bonaventure and the Good Hope, had been claimed by the English; and it

was agreed that the claim should be prosecuted by the ordinary course

of justice. The states had consigned a sum of money, in case the cause

should be decided against them; but the matter was still in dependence.

Cary who was intrusted by the proprietors with the management of the

lawsuit for the Bonaventure, had resolved to accept of thirty thousand

pounds, which were offered him; but was hindered by Downing, who told

him that the claim was a matter of state between the two nations, not a

concern of private persons.[*] These circumstances give us no favorable

idea of the justice of the English pretensions.

* Temple, vol. ii, p. 42.

Charles confined not himself to memorials and remonstrances. Sir Robert

Holmes was secretly despatched with a squadron of twenty-two ships to

the coast of Africa. He not only expelled the Dutch from Cape Corse,

to which the English had some pretensions; he likewise seized the Dutch

settlements of Cape Verde and the Isle of Goree, together with several

ships trading on that coast. And having sailed to America, he possessed

himself of Nova Belgia, since called New York; a territory which James

I. had given by patent to the earl of Stirling, but which had never

been planted but by the Hollanders. When the states complained of these

hostile measures, the king, unwilling to avow what he could not well

justify, pretended to be totally ignorant of Holmes’s enterprise.

He likewise confined that admiral to the Tower; but some time after

released him.

The Dutch, finding that their applications for redress were likely to be

eluded, and that a ground of quarrel was industriously sought for by

the English, began to arm with diligence. They even exerted, with some

precipitation, an act of vigor which hastened on the rupture. Sir John

Lawson and De Ruyter had been sent with combined squadrons into the

Mediterranean, in order to chastise the piratical states on the coast

of Barbary; and the time of their separation and return was now

approaching. The states secretly despatched orders to De Ruyter, that

he should take in provisions at Cadiz; and sailing towards the coast of

Guinea, should retaliate on the English, and put the Dutch in possession

of those settlements whence Holmes had expelled them. De Ruyter, having

a considerable force on board, met with no opposition in Guinea.

All the new acquisitions of the English, except Cape Corse were

recovered from them. They were even dispossessed of some old

settlements. Such of their ships as fell into his hands were seized by

De Ruyter. That admiral sailed next to America. He attacked Barbadoes,

but was repulsed. He afterwards committed hostilities on Long Island.

Meanwhile the English preparations for war were advancing with vigor and

industry. The king had received no supplies from parliament; but by his

own funds and credit he was enabled to equip a fleet: the city of London

lent him one hundred thousand pounds: the spirit of the nation seconded

his armaments: he himself went from port to port, inspecting with great

diligence, and encouraging the work; and in a little time the English

navy was put in a formidable condition. Eight hundred thousand pounds

are said to have been expended on this armament. When Lawson arrived,

and communicated his suspicion of De Ruyter’s enterprise, orders were

issued for seizing all Dutch ships; and one hundred and thirty-five

fell into the hands of the English. These were not declared prizes till

afterwards, when war was proclaimed.

The parliament, when it met, granted a supply, the largest by far that

had ever been given to a king of England, yet scarcely sufficient for

the present undertaking. Near two millions and a half were voted, to

be levied by quarterly payments in three years. The avidity of the

merchants, together with the great prospect of success, had animated the

whole nation against the Dutch.

A great alteration was made this session in the method of taxing the

clergy. In almost all the other monarchies of Europe, the assemblies,

whose consent was formerly requisite to the enacting of laws, were

composed of three estates, the clergy, the nobility, and the commonalty,

which formed so many members of the political body, of which the king

was considered as the head. In England too, the parliament was always

represented as consisting of three estates; but their separation was

never so distinct as in other kingdoms. A convocation, however, had

usually sitten at the same time with the parliament; though they

possessed not a negative voice in the passing of laws, and assumed

no other temporal power than that of imposing taxes on the clergy. By

reason of ecclesiastical preferments, which he could bestow, the king’s

influence over the church was more considerable than over the laity; so

that the subsidies granted by the convocation were commonly greater than

those which were voted by parliament. The church, therefore, was not

displeased to depart tacitly from the right of taxing herself, and allow

the commons to lay impositions on ecclesiastical revenues, as on the

rest of the kingdom. In recompense, two subsidies, which the convocation

had formerly granted, were remitted, and the parochial clergy were

allowed to vote at elections. Thus the church of England made a barter

of power for profit. Their convocations, having become insignificant to

the crown, have been much disused of late years.

The Dutch saw, with the utmost regret, a war approaching, whence they

might dread the most fatal consequences, but which afforded no prospect

of advantage. They tried every art of negotiation, before they would

come to extremities. Their measures were at that time directed by John

de Wit, a minister equally eminent for greatness of mind, for capacity,

and for integrity. Though moderate in his private deportment, he knew

how to adopt in his public counsels that magnanimity which suits the

minister of a great state. It was ever his maxim, that no independent

government should yield to another any evident point of reason or

equity; and that all such concessions, so far from preventing war,

served to no other purpose than to provoke fresh claims and insults.

By his management a spirit of union was preserved in all the provinces;

great sums were levied; and a navy was equipped, composed of larger

ships than the Dutch had ever built before, and able to cope with the

fleet of England.

{1665.} As soon as certain intelligence arrived of De Ruyter’s

enterprises, Charles declared war against the states. His fleet,

consisting of one hundred and fourteen sail, besides fireships and

ketches, was commanded by the duke of York, and under him by Prince

Rupert and the earl of Sandwich. It had about twenty-two thousand men on

board. Obdam, who was admiral of the Dutch navy, of nearly equal force,

declined not the combat. In the heat of action, when engaged in close

fight with the duke of York, Obdam’s ship blew up. This accident much

discouraged the Dutch, who fled towards their own coast. Tromp alone,

son of the famous admiral killed during the former war, bravely

sustained with his squadron the efforts of the English, and protected

the rear of his countrymen. The vanquished had nineteen ships sunk and

taken. The victors lost only one. Sir John Lawson died soon after of

his wounds. It is affirmed, and with an appearance of reason, that this

victory might have been rendered more complete, had not orders been

issued to slacken sail by Brounker, one of the duke’s bed-chamber, who

pretended authority from his master. The duke disclaimed the orders;

but Brounker never was sufficiently punished for his temerity.[*] It is

allowed, however, that the duke behaved with great bravery during the

action. He was long in the thickest of the fire. The earl of Falmouth,

Lord Muskerry, and Mr. Boyle, were killed by one shot at his side, and

covered him all over with their brains and gore. And it is not likely,

that, in a pursuit, where even persons of inferior station, and of the

most cowardly disposition, acquire courage, a commander should feel his

spirits to flag ana should turn from the back of an enemy, whose face he

had not been afraid to encounter.

* King James, in his Memoirs, gives an account of

this affair different from what we meet with in any

historian. He says, that, while he was asleep, Brounker

brought orders to Sir John Harman, captain of the ship, to

slacken sail. Sir John remonstrated, but obeyed. After some

time, finding that his falling back was likely to produce

confusion in the fleet, he hoisted the sail as before; so

that the prince, coming soon after on the quarter deck, and

finding all things as he left them, knew nothing of what had

passed during his repose. Nobody gave him the least

intimation of it. It was long after that he heard of it, by

a kind of accident; and he intended to have punished

Brounker by martial law; but just about that time, the house

of commons took up the question, and impeached him, which

made it impossible for the duke to punish him otherwise than

by dismissing him his service. Brounker, before the house,

never pretended that he had received any orders from the

duke.

This disaster threw the Dutch into consternation, and determined De Wit,

who was the soul of their councils, to exert his military capacity, in

order to support the declining courage of his countrymen. He went on

board the fleet, which he took under his command; and he soon remedied

all those disorders which had been occasioned by the late misfortune.

The genius of this man was of the most extensive nature. He quickly

became as much master of naval affairs, as if he had from his infancy

been educated in them; and he even made improvements in some parts of

pilotage and sailing, beyond what men expert in those arts had ever been

able to attain.

The misfortunes of the Dutch determined their allies to act for their

assistance and support. The king of France was engaged in a defensive

alliance with the states; but as his naval force was yet in its infancy,

he was extremely averse, at that time, from entering into a war with so

formidable a power as England. He long tried to mediate a peace between

the states, and for that purpose sent an embassy to London, which

returned without effecting any thing. Lord Hollis, the English

ambassador at Paris, endeavored to draw over Lewis to the side of

England; and, in his master’s name, made him the most tempting offers.

Charles was content to abandon all the Spanish Low Countries to the

French, without pretending to a foot of ground for himself, provided

Lewis would allow him to pursue his advantages against the Dutch.[*]

But the French monarch, though the conquest of that valuable territory

was the chief object of his ambition, rejected the offer as contrary to

his interests: he thought, that if the English had once established an

uncontrollable dominion over the sea and over commerce, they would

soon be able to render his acquisitions a dear purchase to him. When De

Lionne, the French secretary, assured Van Beuninghen, ambassador of

the states, that this offer had been pressed on his master during six

months, “I can readily believe it,” replied the Dutchman; “I am sensible

that it is the interest of England.”[**]

* D’Estrades, December 19, 1664.

** D’Estrades, August 14, 1665.

Such were the established maxims at that time with regard to the

interests of princes. It must, however, be allowed, that the politics of

Charles, in making this offer, were not a little hazardous. The extreme

weakness of Spain would have rendered the French conquests easy and

infallible; but the vigor of the Dutch, it might be foreseen, would make

the success of the English much more precarious. And even were the

naval force of Holland totally annihilated, the acquisition of the Dutch

commerce to England could not be relied on as a certain consequence; nor

is trade a constant attendant of power, but depends on many other, and

some of them very delicate, circumstances.

Though the king of France was resolved to support the Hollanders in

that unequal contest in which they were engaged, he yet protracted his

declaration, and employed the time in naval preparations, both in

the ocean and the Mediterranean. The king of Denmark, meanwhile, was

resolved not to remain an idle spectator of the contest between the

maritime powers. The part which he acted was the most extraordinary: he

made a secret agreement with Charles to seize all the Dutch ships in his

harbors, and to share the spoils with the English, provided they would

assist him in executing this measure. In order to increase his prey,

he perfidiously invited the Dutch to take shelter in his ports; and

accordingly the East India fleet, very richly laden, had put into

Bergen. Sandwich, who now commanded the English navy, (the duke having

gone ashore,) despatched Sir Thomas Tiddiman with a squadron to attack

them; but whether from the king of Denmark’s delay in sending orders to

the governor, or, what is more probable, from his avidity in endeavoring

to engross the whole booty, the English admiral, though he behaved with

great bravery, failed of his purpose. The Danish governor fired upon

him; and the Dutch, having had leisure to fortify themselves, made a

gallant resistance.

The king of Denmark, seemingly ashamed of his conduct, concluded with

Sir Gilbert Talbot, the English envoy, an offensive alliance against

the states; and at the very same time, his resident at the Hague, by his

orders, concluded an offensive alliance against England. To this latter

alliance he adhered, probably from jealousy of the increasing naval

power of England; and he seized and confiscated all the English ships in

his harbors. This was a sensible check to the advantages which Charles

had obtained over the Dutch. Not only a blow was given to the English

commerce; the king of Denmark’s naval force was also considerable, and

threatened every moment a conjunction with the Hollanders. That prince

stipulated to assist his ally with a fleet of thirty sail; and he

received in return a yearly subsidy of one million five hundred thousand

crowns, of which three hundred thousand were paid by France.

The king endeavored to counterbalance these confederacies by acquiring

new friends and allies. He had despatched Sir Richard Fanshaw into

Spain, who met with a very cold reception. That monarchy was sunk into

a state of weakness, and was menaced with an invasion from France;

yet could not any motive prevail with Philip to enter into cordial

friendship with England. Charles’s alliance with Portugal, the detention

of Jamaica and Tangiers, the sale of Dunkirk to the French, all these

offences sunk so deep in the mind of the Spanish monarch, that no motive

of interest was sufficient to outweigh them.

The bishop of Munster was the only ally that Charles could acquire. This

prelate, a man of restless enterprise and ambition, had entertained a

violent animosity against the states and he was easily engaged, by

the promise of subsidies from England, to make an incursion on that

republic. With a tumultuary army of near twenty thousand men, he invaded

her territories, and met with weak resistance. The land forces of the

states were as feeble and ill governed, as their fleets were gallant

and formidable. But after his committing great ravages in several of the

provinces, a stop was put to the progress of this warlike prelate.

He had not military skill sufficient to improve the advantages which

fortune had put into his hands: the king of France sent a body of six

thousand men to oppose him: subsidies were not regularly remitted him

from England; and many of his troops deserted for want of pay: the

elector of Brandenburgh threatened him with an invasion in his own

state; and on the whole, he was glad to conclude a peace under the

mediation of France. On the first surmise of his intentions, Sir

William Temple was sent from London with money to fix him in his former

alliance; but found that he arrived too late.

The Dutch, encouraged by all these favorable circumstances, continued

resolute to exert themselves to the utmost in their own defence. De

Ruyter, their great admiral, was arrived from his expedition to Guinea:

their Indian fleet was come home in safety: their harbors were crowded

with merchant ships: faction at home was appeased: the young prince of

Orange had put himself under the tuition of the states of Holland,

and of De Wit, their pensionary, who executed his trust with honor and

fidelity; and the animosity which the Hollanders entertained against

the attack of the English, so unprovoked, as they thought it, made

them thirst for revenge, and hope for better success in their next

enterprise. Such vigor was exerted in the common cause, that, in order

to man the fleet, all merchant ships were prohibited to sail, and even

the fisheries were suspended.[*]

* Tromp’s Life. D’Estrades February 5, 1665.

The English likewise continued in the same disposition, though another

more grievous calamity had joined itself to that of war. The plague had

broken out in London; and that with such violence as to cut off, in a

year, near ninety thousand inhabitants. The king was obliged to summon

the Parliament at Oxford.

A good agreement still subsisted between the king and parliament. They,

on their part, unanimously voted him the supply demanded, twelve

hundred and fifty thousand pounds, to be levied in two years by monthly

assessments. And he, to gratify them, passed the five-mile act, which

has given occasion to grievous and not unjust complaints. The church,

under pretence of guarding monarchy against its inveterate enemies,

persevered in the project of wreaking her own enmity against the

nonconformists. It was enacted, that no dissenting teacher, who took not

the nonresistance oath above mentioned, should, except upon the road,

come within five miles of any corporation, or of any place, where he

had preached after the act of oblivion. The penalty was a fine of fifty

pounds, and six months’ imprisonment. By ejecting the nonconforming

clergy from their churches, and prohibiting all separate congregations,

they had been rendered incapable of gaining any livelihood by their

spiritual profession. And now, under color of removing them from places

where their influence might be dangerous, an expedient was fallen upon

to deprive them of all means of subsistence. Had not the spirit of the

nation undergone a change, these violences were preludes to the most

furious persecution.

However prevalent the hierarchy, this law did not pass without

opposition. Besides several peers, attached to the old parliamentary

party, Southampton himself, though Clarendon’s great friend, expressed

his disapprobation of these measures. But the church party, not

discouraged with this opposition, introduced into the house of commons a

bill for imposing the oath of nonresistance on the whole nation. It was

rejected only by three voices. The parliament, after a short session,

was prorogued.

{1666.} After France had declared war, England was evidently overmatched

in force. Yet she possessed this advantage by her situation, that she

lay between the fleets of her enemies, and might be able, by speedy and

well-concerted operations, to prevent their junction. But such was the

unhappy conduct of her commanders, or such the want of intelligence in

her ministers, that this circumstance turned rather to her prejudice.

Lewis had given orders to the duke of Beaufort, his admiral, to sail

from Toulon; and the French squadron under his command, consisting

of above forty sail,[*] was now commonly supposed to be entering the

Channel.

* D’Estrades, May 21, 1666.

The Dutch fleet, to the number of seventy-six sail, was at sea, under

the command of De Ruyter and Tromp, in order to join him. The duke of

Albemarle and Prince Rupert commanded the English fleet, which exceeded

not seventy-four sail. Albemarle, who, from his successes under the

protector, had too much learned to despise the enemy, proposed to

detach Prince Rupert with twenty ships, in order to oppose the duke

of Beaufort. Sir George Ayscue, well acquainted with the bravery and

conduct of De Ruyter, protested against the temerity of this resolution:

but Albemarle’s authority prevailed. The remainder of the English set

sail to give battle to the Dutch; who, seeing the enemy advance quickly

upon them, cut their cables, and prepared for the combat. The battle

that ensued is one of the most memorable that we read of in story;

whether we consider its long duration, or the desperate courage with

which it was fought. Albemarle made here some atonement by his valor for

the rashness of the attempt. No youth, animated by glory and ambitious

hopes, could exert himself more than did this man, who was now in the

decline of life, and who had reached the summit of honors. We shall not

enter minutely into particulars. It will be sufficient to mention the

chief events of each day’s engagement.

In the first day, Sir William Berkeley, vice-admiral, leading the van,

fell into the thickest of the enemy, was overpowered, and his ship

taken. He himself was found dead in his cabin, all covered with blood.

The English had the weather-gage of the enemy; but as the wind blew so

hard that they could not use their lower tier, they derived but small

advantage from this circumstance. The Dutch shot, however, fell chiefly

on their sails and rigging; and few ships were sunk or much damaged.

Chain-shot was at that time a new invention; commonly attributed to De

Wit. Sir John Harman exerted himself extremely on this day. The Dutch

admiral, Evertz, was killed in engaging him. Darkness parted the

combatants.

The second day, the wind was somewhat fallen, and the combat became more

steady and more terrible. The English now found, that the greatest valor

cannot compensate the superiority of numbers, against an enemy who is

well conducted, and who is not defective in courage. De Ruyter and Van

Tromp, rivals in glory and enemies from faction, exerted themselves in

emulation of each other; and De Ruyter had the advantage of disengaging

and saving his antagonist, who had been surrounded by the English, and

was in the most imminent danger. Sixteen fresh ships joined the Dutch

fleet during the action: and the English were so shattered, that their

fighting ships were reduced to twenty-eight, and they found themselves

obliged to retreat towards their own coast. The Dutch followed them,

and were on the point of renewing the combat; when a calm, which came a

little before night, prevented the engagement.

Next morning, the English were obliged to continue their retreat; and a

proper disposition was made for that purpose. The shattered ships were

ordered to stretch ahead; and sixteen of the most entire followed them

in good order, and kept the enemy in awe. Albemarle himself closed the

rear, and presented an undaunted countenance to his victorious foes.

The earl of Ossory, son of Ormond, a gallant youth, who sought honor

and experience in every action throughout Europe, was then on board the

admiral. Albemarle confessed to him his intention rather to blow up his

ship and perish gloriously, than yield to the enemy. Ossory applauded

this desperate resolution.

About two o’clock, the Dutch had come up with their enemy, and were

ready to renew the fight; when a new fleet was descried from the

south, crowding all their sail to reach the scene of action. The Dutch

flattered themselves that Beaufort was arrived to cut off the retreat of

the vanquished: the English hoped, that Prince Rupert had come, to turn

the scale of action. Albemarle, who had received intelligence of the

prince’s approach, bent his course towards him. Unhappily, Sir George

Ayscue, in a ship of a hundred guns, the largest in the fleet, struck

on the Galloper sands, and could receive no assistance from his friends,

who were hastening to join the reënforcement. He could not even reap

the consolation of perishing with honor, and revenging his death on his

enemies. They were preparing fireships to attack him, and he was obliged

to strike. The English sailors, seeing the necessity, with the utmost

indignation surrendered themselves prisoners.

Albemarle and Prince Rupert were now determined to face the enemy; and

next morning, the battle began afresh, with more equal force than ever,

and with equal valor. After long cannonading, the fleets came to a close

combat; which was continued with great violence, till parted by a mist.

The English retired first into their harbors.

Though the English, by their obstinate courage, reaped the chief honor

in this engagement it is somewhat uncertain who obtained the victory.

The Hollanders took a few ships; and having some appearances of

advantage, expressed their satisfaction by all the signs of triumph and

rejoicing. But as the English fleet was repaired in a little time, and

put to sea more formidable than ever, together with many of those ships

which the Dutch had boasted to have burned or destroyed, all Europe saw,

that those two brave nations were engaged in a contest which was not

likely, on either side, to prove decisive.

It was the conjunction alone of the French, that could give a decisive

superiority to the Dutch. In order to facilitate this conjunction, De

Ruyter, having repaired his fleet, posted himself at the mouth of the

Thames. The English, under Prince Rupert and Albemarle, were not long in

coming to the attack. The numbers of each fleet amounted to about eighty

sail; and the valor and experience of the commanders, as well as of the

seamen, rendered the engagement fierce and obstinate. Sir Thomas Allen,

who commanded the white squadron of the English, attacked the Dutch van,

which he entirely routed; and he killed the three admirals who commanded

it. Van Tromp engaged Sir Jeremy Smith; and during the heat of action,

he was separated from De Ruyter and the main body, whether by accident

or design was never certainly known. De Ruyter, with conduct and valor,

maintained the combat against the main body of the English; and,

though overpowered by numbers, kept his station, till night ended the

engagement. Next day, finding the Dutch fleet scattered and discouraged,

his high spirit submitted to a retreat, which yet he conducted with

such skill, as to render it equally honorable to himself as the greatest

victory. Full of indignation, however, at yielding the superiority to

the enemy, he frequently exclaimed, “My God! what a wretch am I! Among

so many thousand bullets, is there not one to put an end to my miserable

life?” One De Witte, his son-in-law, who stood near, exhorted him, since

he sought death, to turn upon the English, and render his life a dear

purchase to the victors. But De Ruyter esteemed it more worthy a brave

man to persevere to the uttermost, and, as long as possible, to render

service to his country. All that night and next day, the English pressed

upon the rear of the Dutch; and it was chiefly by the redoubled efforts

of De Ruyter, that the latter saved themselves in their harbors.

The loss sustained by the Hollanders in this action was not very

considerable; but as violent animosities had broken out

between the two admirals, who engaged all the officers on one side or

other, the consternation which took place was great among the provinces.

Tromp’s commission was at last taken from him; but though several

captains had misbehaved, they were so effectually protected by their

friends in the magistracy of the towns, that most of them escaped

punishment, and many were still continued in their commands.

The English now rode incontestable masters of the sea, and insulted the

Dutch in their harbors. A detachment under Holmes was sent into the road

of Vlie, and burned a hundred and forty merchantmen, two men-of-war,

together with Brandaris, a large and rich village on the coast. The

Dutch merchants, who lost by this enterprise, uniting themselves to

the Orange faction, exclaimed against an administration which, they

pretended, had brought such disgrace and ruin on their country. None but

the firm and intrepid mind of De Wit could have supported itself under

such a complication of calamities.

The king of France, apprehensive that the Dutch would sink under their

misfortunes, at least that De Wit, his friend, might be dispossessed of

the administration, hastened the advance of the duke of Beaufort. The

Dutch fleet likewise was again equipped; and under the command of

De Ruyter, cruised near the Straits of Dover. Prince Rupert with the

English navy, now stronger than ever, came full sail upon them. The

Dutch admiral thought proper to decline the combat, and retired into St.

John’s road, near Bulloigne. Here he sheltered himself, both from the

English, and from a furious storm which arose. Prince Rupert, too, was

obliged to retire into St. Helens; where he staid some time, in order

to repair the damages which he had sustained. Meanwhile the duke

of Beaufort proceeded up the Channel, and passed the English fleet

unperceived; but he did not find the Dutch, as he expected. De Ruyter

had been seized with a fever: many of the chief officers had fallen into

sickness: a contagious distemper was spread through the fleet: and the

states thought it necessary to recall them into their harbors, before

the enemy should be refitted. The French king, anxious for his navy,

which with so much care and industry he had so lately built, despatched

orders to Beaufort, to make the best of his way to Brest. That admiral

had again the good fortune to pass the English. One ship alone, the

Ruby, fell into the hands of the enemy.

While the war continued without any decisive success on either side,

a calamity happened in London which threw the people into great

consternation. Fire, breaking out in a baker’s house near the bridge,

spread itself on all sides with such rapidity, that no efforts could

extinguish it, till it laid in ashes a considerable part of the city.

The inhabitants, without being able to provide effectually for their

relief, were reduced to be spectators of their own ruin; and were

pursued from street to street by the flames, which unexpectedly gathered

round them. Three days and nights did the fire advance; and it was only

by the blowing up of houses that it was at last extinguished. The king

and duke used their utmost endeavors to stop the progress of the flames;

but all their industry was unsuccessful. About four hundred streets and

thirteen thousand houses were reduced to ashes.

The causes of this calamity were evident. The narrow streets of London,

the houses built entirely of wood, the dry season, and a violent east

wind which blew; these were so many concurring circumstances, which

rendered it easy to assign the reason of the destruction that ensued.

But the people were not satisfied with this obvious account. Prompted

by blind rage, some ascribed the guilt to the republicans, others to the

Catholics; though it is not easy to conceive how the burning of London

could serve the purposes of either party. As the Papists were the chief

objects of public detestation, the rumor which threw the guilt on them

was more favorably received by the people. No proof, however, or even

presumption, after the strictest inquiry by a committee of parliament,

ever appeared to authorize such a calumny; yet, in order to give

countenance to the popular prejudice, the inscription, engraved by

authority on the monument, ascribed this calamity to that hated sect.

This clause was erased by order of King James, when he came to the

throne; but after the revolution it was replaced: so credulous, as well

as obstinate, are the people in believing every thing which flatters

their prevailing passion.

The fire of London, though at that time a great calamity, has proved

in the issue beneficial both to the city and the kingdom. The city was

rebuilt in a very little time; and care was taken to make the streets

wider and more regular than before. A discretionary power was assumed

by the king to regulate the distribution of the buildings, and to forbid

the use of lath and timber, the materials of which the houses were

formerly composed. The necessity was so urgent, and the occasion so

extraordinary that no exceptions were taken at an exercise of authority

which otherwise might have been deemed illegal. Had the king been

enabled to carry his power still further, and made the houses be

rebuilt with perfect regularity, and entirely upon one plan, he had much

contributed to the convenience, as well as embellishment of the city.

Great advantages, however, have resulted from the alterations though not

carried to the full length. London became much more healthy after the

fire. The plague, which used to break out with great fury twice or

thrice every century, and indeed was always lurking in some corner or

other of the city, has scarcely ever appeared since that calamity.

The parliament met soon after, and gave the sanction of law to those

regulations made by royal authority; as well as appointed commissioners

for deciding all such questions of property as might arise from the

fire. They likewise voted a supply of one million eight hundred thousand

pounds, to be levied, partly by a poll-bill, partly by assessments.

Though their inquiry brought out no proofs which could fix on the

Papists the burning of London, the general aversion against that

sect still prevailed; and complaints were made, probably without much

foundation, of its dangerous increase. Charles, at the desire of the

commons, issued a proclamation for the banishment of all priests and

Jesuits; but the bad execution of this, as well as of former edicts,

destroyed all confidence in his sincerity, whenever he pretended an

aversion towards the Catholic religion. Whether suspicions of this

nature had diminished the king’s popularity, is uncertain; but it

appears that the supply was voted much later than Charles expected, or

even than the public necessities seemed to require. The intrigues of

the duke of Buckingham, a man who wanted only steadiness to render him

extremely dangerous, had somewhat embarrassed the measures of the court:

and this was the first time that the king found any considerable reason

to complain of a failure of confidence in this house of commons. The

rising symptoms of ill humor tended, no doubt, to quicken the steps

which were already making towards a peace with foreign enemies.

Charles began to be sensible, that all the ends for which the war had

been undertaken were likely to prove entirely abortive. The Dutch, even

when single, had defended themselves with vigor, and were every day

improving in their military skill and preparations.

{1667.} Though their trade had suffered extremely, their extensive

credit enabled them to levy great sums; and while the seamen of England

loudly complained of want of pay, the Dutch navy was regularly supplied

with money and every thing requisite for its subsistence. As two

powerful kings now supported them, every place, from the extremity of

Norway to the coasts of Bayonne, was become hostile to the English. And

Charles, neither fond of action, nor stimulated by any violent ambition,

earnestly sought for means of restoring tranquillity to his people,

disgusted with a war, which, being joined with the plague and fire, had

proved so fruitless and destructive.

The first advances towards an accommodation were made by England. When

the king sent for the body of Sir William Berkeley, he insinuated to

the states his desire of peace on reasonable terms; and their answer

corresponded in the same amicable intentions. Charles, however, to

maintain the appearance of superiority, still insisted that the states

should treat at London; and they agreed to make him this compliment

so far as concerned themselves: but being engaged in alliance with two

crowned heads, they could not, they said, prevail with these to depart

in that respect from their dignity. On a sudden, the king went so far on

the other side as to offer the sending of ambassadors to the Hague; but

this proposal, which seemed honorable to the Dutch, was meant only to

divide and distract them, by affording the English an opportunity to

carry on cabals with the disaffected party. The offer was therefore

rejected; and conferences were secretly held in the queen mother’s

apartments at Paris, where the pretensions of both parties were

discussed. The Dutch made equitable proposals; either that all things

should be restored to the same condition in which they stood before the

war, or that both parties should continue in possession of their present

acquisitions. Charles accepted of the latter proposal; and almost every

thing was adjusted, except the disputes with regard to the Isle of

Polerone. This island lies in the East Indies, and was formerly valuable

for its produce of spices. The English had been masters of it, but were

dispossessed at the time when the violences were committed against

them at Amboyna. Cromwell had stipulated to have it restored; and

the Hollanders, having first entirely destroyed all the spice trees,

maintained that they had executed the treaty, but that the English had

been anew expelled during the course of the war. Charles renewed his

pretensions to this island; and as the reasons on both sides began to

multiply, and seemed to require a long discussion, it was agreed to

transfer the treaty to some other place; and Charles made choice of

Breda.

Lord Hollis and Henry Coventry were the English ambassadors. They

immediately desired that a suspension of arms should be agreed to, till

the several claims should be adjusted; but this proposal, seemingly

so natural, was rejected by the credit of De Wit. That penetrating and

active minister, thoroughly acquainted with the characters of princes

and the situation of affairs, had discovered an opportunity of striking

a blow, which might at once restore to the Dutch the honor lost during

the war, and severely revenge those injuries which he ascribed to the

wanton ambition and injustice of the English.

Whatever projects might have been formed by Charles for secreting

the money granted him by parliament, he had hitherto failed in his

intention. The expenses of such vast armaments had exhausted all the

supplies,[*] and even a great debt was contracted to the seamen. The

king, therefore, was resolved to save, as far as possible, the last

supply of one million eight hundred thousand pounds; and to employ it

for payment of his debts, as well those which had been occasioned by the

war, as those which he had formerly contracted. He observed, that the

Dutch had been with great reluctance forced into the war, and that the

events of it were not such as to inspire them with great desire of its

continuance. The French, he knew, had been engaged into hostilities by

no other motive than that of supporting their ally; and were now more

desirous than ever of putting an end to the quarrel. The differences

between the parties were so inconsiderable, that the conclusion of peace

appeared infallible; and nothing but forms, at least some vain points of

honor, seemed to remain for the ambassadors at Breda to discuss. In

this situation, Charles, moved by an ill-timed frugality, remitted his

preparations, and exposed England to one of the greatest affronts which

it has ever received. Two small squadrons alone were equipped, and

during a war with such potent and martial enemies, every thing was

left almost in the same situation as in times of the most profound

tranquillity.

* The Dutch had spent on the war near forty millions of

livres a year, about three millions sterling; a much greater

sum than had been granted by the English parliament.

D’Estrades, December 24 1665. January 1, 1666. Temple, vol.

i. p. 71. It was probably the want of money which engaged

the king to pay the seamen with tickets; a contrivance which

proved so much to their loss.

De Wit protracted the negotiations at Breda, and hastened the naval

preparations. The Dutch fleet appeared in the Thames, under the command

of De Ruyter, and threw the English into the utmost consternation. A

chain had been drawn across the River Medway; some fortifications had

been added to Sheerness and Upnore Castle; but all these preparations

were unequal to the present necessity. Sheerness was soon taken; nor

could it be saved by the valor of Sir Edward Sprague, who defended it.

Having the advantage of a spring tide and an easterly wind, the Dutch

pressed on, and broke the chain, though fortified by some ships, which

had been there sunk by orders of the duke of Albemarle. They burned the

three ships which lay to guard the chain--the Matthias, the Unity, and

the Charles V. After damaging several vessels, and possessing themselves

of the hull of the Royal Charles, which the English had burned, they

advanced with six men-of-war and five fireships as far as Upnore Castle,

where they burned the Royal Oak, the Loyal London, and the Great James.

Captain Douglas, who commanded on board the Royal Oak, perished in the

flames, though he had an easy opportunity of escaping. “Never was it

known,” he said, “that a Douglas had left his post without orders.”[*]

The Hollanders fell down the Medway without receiving any considerable

damage; and it was apprehended, that they might next tide sail up the

Thames, and extend their hostilities even to the bridge of London. Nine

ships were sunk at Woolwich, four at Blackwall: platforms were raised in

many places, furnished with artillery; the train bands were called out,

and every place was in a violent agitation. The Dutch sailed next to

Portsmouth, where they made a fruitless attempt: they met with no better

success at Plymouth: they insulted Harwich: they sailed again up the

Thames as far as Tilbury, where they were repulsed. The whole coast was

in alarm; and had the French thought proper at this time to join the

Dutch fleet, and to invade England, consequences the most fatal might

justly have been apprehended. But Lewis had no intention to push the

victory to such extremities. His interest required that a balance

should be kept between the two maritime powers; not that an uncontrolled

superiority should be given to either.

* Temple, vol. ii. p. 41.

Great indignation prevailed amongst the English, to see an enemy, whom

they regarded as inferior, whom they had expected totally to subdue,

and over whom they had gained many honorable advantages, now of a sudden

ride undisputed masters of the ocean, burn their ships in their very

harbors, fill every place with confusion, and strike a terror into the

capital itself. But though the cause of all these disasters could be

ascribed neither to bad fortune, to the misconduct of admirals, nor to

the ill behavior of seamen, but solely to the avarice, at least to the

improvidence, of the government, no dangerous symptoms of discontent

appeared, and no attempt for an insurrection was made by any of those

numerous sectaries who had been so openly branded for their rebellious

principles, and who, upon that supposition, had been treated with such

severity.[*]

* Some nonconformists, however, both in Scotland and

England, had kept a correspondence with the states, and had

entertained projects for insurrections; but they were too

weak even to attempt the execution of them. D’Estrades,

October 13, 1665.

In the present distress, two expedients were embraced: an army of twelve

thousand men was suddenly levied; and the parliament, though it lay

under prorogation, was summoned to meet. The houses were very thin; and

the only vote which the commons passed, was an address for breaking the

army; which was complied with. This expression of jealousy showed the

court what they might expect from that assembly; and it was thought more

prudent to prorogue them till next winter.

But the signing of the treaty at Breda extricated the king from his

present difficulties. The English ambassadors received orders to recede

from those demands, which, how ever frivolous in themselves, could not

now be relinquished without acknowledging a superiority in the enemy.

Polerone remained with the Dutch; satisfaction for the ships Bonaventure

and Good Hope, the pretended grounds of the quarrel, was no longer

insisted on; Acadie was yielded to the French. The acquisition of

New York, a settlement so important by its situation, was the chief

advantage which the English reaped from a war, in which the national

character of bravery had shone out with lustre, but where the misconduct

of the government, especially in the conclusion, had been no less

apparent.

To appease the people by some sacrifice seemed requisite before the

meeting of parliament; and the prejudices of the nation pointed out the

victim. The chancellor was at this time much exposed to the hatred

of the public, and of every party which divided the nation. All the

numerous sectaries regarded him as their determined enemy; and ascribed

to his advice and influence those persecuting laws to which they had

lately been exposed. The Catholics knew, that while he retained any

authority, all their credit with the king and the duke would be entirely

useless to them, nor must they ever expect any favor or indulgence. Even

the royalists, disappointed in their sanguine hopes of preferment, threw

a great load of envy on Clarendon, into whose hands the king seemed

at first to have resigned the whole power of government. The sale of

Dunkirk, the bad payment of the seamen, the disgrace at Chatham, the

unsuccessful conclusion of the war all these misfortunes were charged on

the chancellor, who though he had ever opposed the rupture with Holland,

thought it still his duty to justify what he could not prevent. A

building, likewise, of more expense and magnificence than his slender

fortune could afford, being unwarily undertaken by him, much exposed him

to public reproach, as if he had acquired great riches by corruption.

The populace gave it commonly the appellation of Dunkirk House.

[Illustration: 1-781-chatham.jpg CHATHAM]

The king himself, who had always more revered than loved the chancellor,

was now totally estranged from him. Amidst the dissolute manners of the

court, that minister still maintained an inflexible dignity, and would

not submit to any condescensions which he deemed unworthy of his age and

character. Buckingham, a man of profligate morals, happy in his talent

for ridicule, but exposed in his own conduct to all the ridicule which

he threw on others, still made him the object of his raillery, and

gradually lessened in the king that regard which he bore to his

minister. When any difficulties arose, either for want of power or

money, the blame was still thrown on him, who, it was believed, had

carefully at the restoration checked all lavish concessions to the king.

And what, perhaps, touched Charles more nearly, he found in Clarendon,

it is said, obstacles to his pleasures, as well as to his ambition.

The king, disgusted with the homely person of his consort, and desirous

of having children, had hearkened to proposals of obtaining a divorce,

on pretence either of her being pre-engaged to another, or having made

a vow of chastity before her marriage. He was further stimulated by his

passion for Mrs. Stuart, daughter of a Scotch gentleman; a lady of

great beauty, and whose virtue he had hitherto found impregnable: but

Clarendon, apprehensive of the consequences attending a disputed title,

and perhaps anxious for the succession of his own grandchildren, engaged

the duke of Richmond to marry Mrs. Stuart, and thereby put an end to

the king’s hopes. It is pretended that Charles never forgave this

disappointment.

When politics, therefore, and inclination both concurred to make the

king sacrifice Clarendon to popular prejudices, the memory of his past

services was not able any longer to delay his fall. The great seal was

taken from him, and given to Sir Orlando Bridgeman, by the title of lord

keeper. Southampton, the treasurer, was now dead, who had persevered

to the utmost in his attachments to the chancellor. The last time he

appeared at the council table, he exerted his friendship with a vigor

which neither age nor infirmities could abate. “This man,” said he,

speaking of Clarendon, “is a true Protestant, and an honest Englishman;

and while he enjoys power, we are secure of our laws, liberties, and

religion. I dread the consequences of his removal.”

But the fall of the chancellor was not sufficient to gratify the malice

of his enemies: his total ruin was resolved on. The duke of York in vain

exerted his interest in behalf of his father-in-law. Both prince and

people united in promoting that violent measure; and no means were

thought so proper for ingratiating the court with a parliament, which

had so long been governed by that very minister who was now to be the

victim of their prejudices.

Some popular acts paved the way for the session; and the parliament,

in their first address, gave the king thanks for these instances of his

goodness; and, among the rest, they took care to mention his dismission

of Clarendon. The king, in reply, assured the houses, that he would

never again employ that nobleman in any public office whatsoever.

Immediately the charge against him was opened in the house of commons by

Mr. Seymour, afterwards Sir Edward, and consisted of seventeen articles.

The house, without examining particulars, further than hearing

general affirmations that all would be proved, immediately voted his

impeachment. Many of the articles[*] [1] we know to be either false

or frivolous; and such of them as we are less acquainted with, we

may fairly presume to be no better grounded. His advising the sale of

Dunkirk seems the heaviest and truest part of the charge; but a mistake

in judgment, allowing it to be such, where there appear no symptoms of

corruption or bad intentions, it would be very hard to impute as a crime

to any minister. The king’s necessities, which occasioned that measure,

cannot with any appearance of reason be charged on Clarendon; and

chiefly proceeded from the over frugal maxims of the parliament itself,

in not granting the proper supplies to the crown.

* See note A, at the end of the volume.

When the impeachment was carried up to the peers, as it contained an

accusation of treason in general, without specifying any particulars, it

seemed not a sufficient ground for committing Clarendon to custody. The

precedents of Strafford and Laud were not, by reason of the violence of

the times, deemed a proper authority; but as the commons still insisted

upon his commitment, it was necessary to appoint a free conference

between the houses. The lords persevered in their resolution; and the

commons voted this conduct to be an obstruction to public justice, and a

precedent of evil and dangerous tendency. They also chose a committee to

draw up a vindication of their own proceedings.

Clarendon, finding that the popular torrent, united to the violence of

power, ran with impetuosity against him, and that a defence offered to

such prejudiced ears would be entirely ineffectual, thought proper to

withdraw. At Calais he wrote a paper addressed to the house of lords.

He there said, that his fortune, which was but moderate, had been

gained entirely by the lawful, avowed profits of his office, and by the

voluntary bounty of the king; that, during the first years after

the restoration, he had always concurred in opinion with the other

counsellors, men of such reputation that no one could entertain

suspicions of their wisdom or integrity: that his credit soon declined;

and however he might disapprove of some measures, he found it vain to

oppose them; that his repugnance to the Dutch war, the source of all

the public grievances, was always generally known, as well as his

disapprobation of many unhappy steps taken in conducting it: and that,

whatever pretence might be made of public offences, his real crime, that

which had exasperated his powerful enemies, was his frequent opposition

to exorbitant grants, which the importunity of suitors had extorted from

his majesty.

The lords transmitted this paper to the commons, under the appellation

of a libel; and by a vote of both houses it was condemned to be burned

by the hands of the hangman. The parliament next proceeded to exert

their legislative power against Clarendon, and passed a bill of

banishment and incapacity, which received the royal assent. He retired

into France, where he lived in a private manner. He survived his

banishment six years; and he employed his leisure chiefly in reducing

into order the History of the Civil Wars, for which he had before

collected materials. The performance does honor to his memory; and,

except Whitlocke’s Memorials, is the most candid account of those times

composed by any contemporary author.

Clarendon was always a friend to the liberty and constitution of his

country. At the commencement of the civil wars, he had entered into the

late king’s service, and was honored with a great share in the esteem

and friendship of that monarch: he was pursued with unrelenting

animosity by the long parliament: he had shared all the fortunes and

directed all the counsels of the present king during his exile: he had

been advanced to the highest trust and offices after the restoration:

yet all these circumstances, which might naturally operate with such

force, either on resentment, gratitude, or ambition, had no influence

on his uncorrupted mind. It is said, that when he first engaged in the

study of the law, his father exhorted him with great earnestness to shun

the practice, too common in that profession, of straining every point

in favor of prerogative, and perverting so useful a science to the

oppression of liberty; and in the midst of these rational and virtuous

counsels, which he reiterated, he was suddenly seized with an apoplexy,

and expired in his son’s presence. This circumstance gave additional

weight to the principles which he inculcated.

The combination of king and subject to oppress so good a minister,

affords to men of opposite dispositions an equal occasion of inveighing

against the ingratitude of princes, or ignorance of the people. Charles

seems never to have mitigated his resentment against Clarendon; and the

national prejudices pursued him to his retreat in France. A company of

English soldiers, being quartered near him, assaulted his house, broke

open the doors, gave him a dangerous wound on the head, and would have

proceeded to the last extremities, had not their officers, hearing of

the violence, happily interposed.

{1668.} The next expedient which the king embraced in order to acquire

popularity, is more deserving of praise; and, had it been steadily

pursued, would probably have rendered his reign happy, certainly his

memory respected. It is the triple alliance of which I speak; a measure

which gave entire satisfaction to the public.

The glory of France, which had long been eclipsed, either by domestic

factions, or by the superior force of the Spanish monarchy, began now

to break out with great lustre, and to engage the attention of the

neighboring nations. The independent power and mutinous spirit of

the nobility were subdued; the popular pretensions of the parliament

restrained; the Hugonot party reduced to subjection: that extensive and

fertile country, enjoying every advantage both of climate and situation,

was fully peopled with ingenious and industrious inhabitants: and while

the spirit of the nation discovered all the vigor and bravery requisite

for great enterprises, it was tamed to an entire submission under the

will of the sovereign.

The sovereign who now filled the throne was well adapted, by his

personal character, both to increase and to avail himself of these

advantages. Lewis XIV., endowed with every quality which could enchant

the people, possessed many which merit the approbation of the wise. The

masculine beauty of his person was embellished with a noble air: the

dignity of his behavior was tempered with affability and politeness:

elegant without effeminacy, addicted to pleasure without neglecting

business, decent in his very vices, and beloved in the midst of

arbitrary power, he surpassed all contemporary monarchs, as in grandeur,

so likewise in fame and glory.

His ambition, regulated by prudence, not by justice, had carefully

provided every means of conquest; and before he put himself in motion,

he seemed to have absolutely insured success. His finances were brought

into order; a naval power created; his armies increased and disciplined;

magazines and military stores provided; and though the magnificence of

his court was supported beyond all former example; so regular was the

economy observed, and so willingly did the people, now enriched by arts

and commerce, submit to multiplied taxes, that his military force

much exceeded what in any preceding age had ever been employed by any

European monarch.

The sudden decline, and almost total fall of the Spanish monarchy,

opened an inviting field to so enterprising a prince, and seemed to

promise him easy and extensive conquests. The other

nations of Europe, feeble or ill governed, were astonished at the

greatness of his rising empire; and all of them cast their eyes towards

England, as the only power which could save them from that subjection

with which they seemed to be so nearly threatened.

The animosity which had anciently subsisted between the English and

French nations, and which had been suspended for above a century by the

jealousy of Spanish greatness, began to revive and to exert itself. The

glory of preserving the balance of Europe, a glory so much founded on

justice and humanity, flattered the ambition of England; and the people

were eager to provide for their own future security, by opposing the

progress of so hated a rival. The prospect of embracing such measures

had contributed, among other reasons, to render the peace of Breda so

universally acceptable to the nation. By the death of Philip IV., king

of Spain, an inviting opportunity, and some very slender pretences, had

been afforded to call forth the ambition of Lewis.

At the treaty of the Pyrenees, when Lewis espoused the Spanish princess,

he had renounced every title of succession to every part of the Spanish

monarchy; and this renunciation had been couched in the most accurate

and most precise terms that language could afford. But on the death of

his father-in-law, he retracted his renunciation, and pretended

that natural rights, depending on blood and succession, could not be

annihilated by any extorted deed or contract. Philip had left a son,

Charles II. of Spain; but as the queen of France was of a former

marriage, she laid claim to a considerable province of the Spanish

monarchy, even to the exclusion of her brother. By the customs of some

parts of Brabant, a female of a first marriage was preferred to a male

of a second, in the succession to private inheritances; and Lewis thence

inferred, that his queen had acquired a right to the dominion of that

important duchy.

A claim of this nature was more properly supported by military force

than by argument and reasoning. Lewis appeared on the frontiers of the

Netherlands with an army of forty thousand men, commanded by the best

generals of the age, and provided with every thing necessary for action.

The Spaniards, though they might have foreseen this measure, were

totally unprepared. Their towns, without magazines, fortifications

or garrisons, fell into the hands of the French king, as soon as he

presented himself before them. Athe, Lisle, Tournay, Oudenarde,

Courtray, Charleroi, Binche, were immediately taken: and it was visible,

that no force in the Low Countries was able to stop or retard the

progress of the French arms.

This measure, executed with such celerity and success, gave great alarm

to almost every court in Europe. It had been observed with what dignity,

or even haughtiness, Lewis, from the time he began to govern, had

ever supported all his rights and pretensions. D’Estrades, the French

ambassador, and Watteville, the Spanish, having quarrelled in London,

on Account of their claims for precedency, the French monarch was not

satisfied, till Spain sent to Paris a solemn embassy, and promised never

more to revive such contests. Crequi, his ambassador at Rome, had met

with an affront from the pope’s guards: the pope, Alexander VII., had

been constrained to break his guards, to send his nephew to ask pardon,

and to allow a pillar to be erected in Rome itself, as a monument of his

own humiliation. The king of England too had experienced the high spirit

and unsubmitting temper of Lewis. A pretension to superiority in the

English flag having been advanced, the French monarch remonstrated

with such vigor, and prepared himself to resist with such courage, that

Charles found it more prudent to desist from his vain and antiquated

claims. “The king of England,” said Lewis to his ambassador D’Estrades,

“may know my force, but he knows not the sentiments of my heart: every

thing appears to me contemptible in comparison of glory.”[*] These

measures of conduct had given strong indications of his character: but

the invasion of Flanders discovered an ambition, which, being supported

by such overgrown power, menaced the general liberties of Europe.

* January 25, 1662

As no state lay nearer the danger, none was seized with more terror than

the United Provinces. They were still engaged, together with France, in

a war against England; and Lewis had promised them, that he would take

no step against Spain without previously informing them: but, contrary

to this assurance, he kept a total silence, till on the very point of

entering upon action. If the renunciation made at the treaty of the

Pyrenees was not valid, it was foreseen, that upon the death of the king

of Spain, a sickly infant, the whole monarchy would be claimed by

Lewis; after which it would be vainly expected to set bounds to his

pretensions. Charles acquainted with these well-grounded apprehensions

of the Dutch, had been the more obstinate in insisting on his own

conditions at Breda; and by delaying to sign the treaty, had imprudently

exposed himself to the signal disgrace which he received at Chatham. De

Wit, sensible that a few weeks’ delay would be of no consequence in the

Low Countries, took this opportunity of striking an important blow, and

of finishing the war with honor to himself and to his country.

Negotiations meanwhile commenced for the saving of Flanders; but no

resistance was made to the French arms. The Spanish ministers exclaimed

every where against the flagrant injustice of Lewis’s pretensions, and

represented it to be the interest of every power in Europe, even more

than of Spain itself, to prevent his conquest of the Low Countries.

The emperor and the German princes discovered evident symptoms of

discontent; but their motions were slow and backward. The states,

though terrified at the prospect of having their frontier exposed to so

formidable a foe, saw no resource, no means of safety. England indeed

seemed disposed to make opposition to the French; but the variable and

impolitic conduct of Charles kept that republic from making him any

open advances, by which she might lose the friendship of France, without

acquiring any new ally. And though Lewis, dreading a combination of all

Europe, had offered terms of accommodation, the Dutch apprehended lest

these, either from the obstinacy of the Spaniards, or the ambition of

the French, would never be carried into execution.

Charles resolved with great prudence to take the first step towards

a confederacy. Sir William Temple, his resident at Brussels, received

orders to go secretly to the Hague, and to concert with the states the

means of saving the Netherlands. This man, whom philosophy had taught to

despise the world, without rendering him unfit for it, was frank,

open, sincere, superior to the little tricks of vulgar politicians;

and meeting in De Wit with a man of the same generous and enlarged

sentiments, he immediately opened his master’s intentions, and pressed a

speedy conclusion. A treaty was from the first negotiated between

these two statesmen with the same cordiality as if it were a private

transaction between intimate companions. Deeming the interests of their

country the same, they gave full scope to that sympathy of character,

which disposed them to an entire reliance on each other’s professions

and engagements. And though jealousy against the house of Orange might

inspire De Wit with an aversion to a strict union with England, he

generously resolved to sacrifice all private considerations to the

public service.

Temple insisted on an offensive league between England and Holland, in

order to oblige France to relinquish all her conquests: but De Wit told

him, that this measure was too bold and precipitate to be agreed to by

the states. He said that the French were the old and constant allies of

the republic; and till matters came to extremities, she never would

deem it prudent to abandon a friendship so well established, and rely

entirely on a treaty with England, which had lately waged so cruel a war

against her: that ever since the reign of Elizabeth, there had been such

a fluctuation in the English councils, that it was not possible, for two

years together, to take any sure or certain measures with that

kingdom: that though the present ministry, having entered into views

so conformable to national interest, promised greater firmness and

constancy, it might still be unsafe, in a business of such consequence,

to put entire confidence in them: that the French monarch was young,

haughty, and powerful; and if treated in so imperious a manner, would

expose himself to the greatest extremities rather than submit: that it

was sufficient, if he could be constrained to adhere to the offers which

he himself had already made, and if the remaining provinces of the Low

Countries could be thereby saved from the danger with which they were at

present threatened: and that the other powers in Germany and the north,

whose assistance they might expect, would be satisfied with putting a

stop to the French conquests, without pretending to recover the places

already lost.

The English minister was content to accept of the terms proposed by the

pensionary. Lewis had offered to relinquish all the queen’s rights,

on condition either of keeping the conquests which he had made last

campaign, or of receiving, in lieu of them, Franche Compte, together

with Cambray, Aire, and St. Omers. De Wit and Temple founded their

treaty upon this proposal. They agreed to offer their mediation to the

contending powers, and oblige France to adhere to this alternative, and

Spain to accept of it. If Spain refused, they agreed that France should

not prosecute her claim by arms, but leave it entirely to England

and Holland to employ force for making the terms effectual. And the

remainder of the Low Countries they thenceforth guarantied to Spain. A

defensive alliance was likewise concluded between Holland and England.

The articles of this confederacy were soon adjusted by such candid and

able negotiators: but the greatest difficulty still remained. By the

constitution of the republic, all the towns in all the provinces must

give their consent to every alliance; and besides that this formality

could not be despatched in less than two months, it was justly to be

dreaded that the influence of France would obstruct the passing of the

treaty in some of the smaller cities. D’Estrades, the French ambassador,

a man of abilities, hearing of the league which was on the carpet,

treated it lightly. “Six weeks hence,” said he, “we shall speak to it.”

To obviate this difficulty, De Wit had the courage, for the public

good, to break through the laws in so fundamental an article; and by

his authority, he prevailed with the states general at once to sign and

ratify the league: though they acknowledged that, if that measure

should displease their constituents, they risked their heads by this

irregularity. After sealing, all parties embraced with great cordiality.

Temple cried out, “At Breda, as friends: here, as brothers.” And De Wit

added, that now the matter was finished, it looked like a miracle.

Room had been left in the treaty for the accession of Sweden, which

was soon after obtained; and thus was concluded in five days the triple

league; an event received with equal surprise and approbation by the

world. Notwithstanding the unfortunate conclusion of the last war,

England now appeared in her proper station, and, by this wise conduct,

had recovered all her influence and credit in Europe. Temple likewise

received great applause; but to all the compliments made him on the

occasion, he modestly replied, that to remove things from their centre,

or proper element, required force and labor; but that of themselves they

easily returned to it.

The French monarch was extremely displeased with this measure. Not only

bounds were at present set to his ambition; such a barrier was also

raised as seemed forever impregnable. And though his own offer was made

the foundation of the treaty, he had prescribed so short a time for the

acceptance of it that he still expected, from the delays and reluctance

of Spain, to find some opportunity of eluding it. The court of Madrid

showed equal displeasure. To relinquish any part of the Spanish

provinces, in lieu of claims so apparently unjust, and these urged with

such violence and haughtiness, inspired the highest disgust. Often did

the Spaniards threaten to abandon entirely the Low Countries, rather

than submit to so cruel a mortification; and they endeavored, by this

menace, to terrify the mediating powers into more vigorous measures for

their support. But Temple and De Wit were better acquainted with the

views and interests of Spain. They knew that she must still retain the

Low Countries, as a bond of connection with the other European powers,

who alone, if her young monarch should happen to die without issue,

could insure her independency against the pretensions of France. They

still urged, therefore, the terms of the triple league, and threatened

Spain with war in case of refusal. The plenipotentiaries of all the

powers met at Aix-la-Chapelle. Temple was minister for England; Van

Beuninghen for Holland; D’Ohna for Sweden.

Spain at last, pressed on all hands, accepted of the alternative

offered; but in her very compliance, she gave strong symptoms of ill

humor and discontent. It had been apparent that the Hollanders, entirely

neglecting the honor of the Spanish monarchy, had been anxious only for

their own security; and, provided they could remove Lewis to a distance

from their frontier, were more indifferent what progress he made

in other places. Sensible of these views, the queen regent of Spain

resolved still to keep them in an anxiety, which might for the future

be the foundation of a union more intimate than they were willing at

present to enter into Franche Compte, by a vigorous and well-concerted

plan of the French king, had been conquered in fifteen days, during

a rigorous season, and in the midst of winter. She chose therefore

to recover this province, and to abandon all the towns conquered in

Flanders during the last campaign. By this means Lewis extended his

garrisons into the heart of the Low Countries; and a very feeble barrier

remained to the Spanish provinces.

But notwithstanding the advantages of his situation, the French monarch

could entertain small hopes of ever extending his conquests on that

quarter, which lay the most exposed to his ambition, and where his

acquisitions were of most importance. The triple league guarantied the

remaining provinces to Spain; and the emperor and other powers of

Germany, whose interest seemed to be intimately concerned, were invited

to enter into the same confederacy. Spain herself, having about this

time, under the mediation of Charles, made peace on equal terms with

Portugal, might be expected to exert more vigor and opposition to

her haughty and triumphant rival. The great satisfaction expressed in

England on account of the counsels now embraced by the court, promised

the hearty concurrence of parliament in every measure which could be

proposed for opposition to the grandeur of France. And thus all Europe

seemed to repose herself with security under the wings of that powerful

confederacy which had been so happily formed for her protection. It is

now time to give some account of the state of affairs in Scotland and in

Ireland.

The Scottish nation, though they had never been subject to the arbitrary

power of their prince, had but very imperfect notions of law and

liberty; and scarcely in any age had they ever enjoyed an administration

which had confined itself within the proper boundaries. By their final

union alone with England, their once hated adversary, they have happily

attained the experience of a government perfectly regular, and exempt

from all violence and injustice. Charles, from his aversion to business,

had intrusted the affairs of that country to his ministers, particularly

Middleton; and these could not forbear making very extraordinary

stretches of authority.

There had been intercepted a letter, written by Lord Lorne to Lord

Duffus, in which, a little too plainly, but very truly, he complained,

that his enemies had endeavored by falsehood to prepossess the king

against him. But he said, that he had now discovered them, had defeated

them, and had gained the person, meaning the earl of Clarendon, upon

whom the chief of them depended. This letter was produced before the

parliament; and Lorne was tried upon an old, tyrannical, absurd law

against leasing-making; by which it was rendered criminal to belie the

subjects to the king, or create in him an ill opinion of them. He was

condemned to die: but Charles was much displeased with the sentence, and

granted him a pardon.[*]

* Burnet, p. 149.

It was carried in parliament, that twelve persons, without crime,

witness, trial, or accuser, should be declared incapable of all trust or

office; and to render this injustice more egregious, it was agreed,

that these persons should be named by ballot; a method of voting which

several republics had adopted at elections, in order to prevent faction

and intrigue; but which could serve only as a cover to malice and

iniquity in the inflicting of punishments. Lauderdale, Crawford, and

Sir Robert Murray, among others, were incapacitated: but the king, who

disapproved of this injustice, refused his assent.[*]

An act was passed against all persons who should move the king for

restoring the children of those who were attainted by parliament; an

unheard-of restraint on applications for grace and mercy. No penalty

was affixed; but the act was but the more violent and tyrannical on

that account. The court lawyers had established it as a maxim, that the

assigning of a punishment was a limitation of the crown; whereas a

law forbidding any thing, though without a penalty, made the offenders

criminal. And in that case, they determined that the punishment

was arbitrary; only that it could not extend to life. Middleton, as

commissioner, passed this act; though he had no instructions for that

purpose.

An act of indemnity passed; but at the same time it was voted, that all

those who had offended during the late disorders, should be subjected

to fines; and a committee of parliament was appointed for imposing them.

These proceeded without any regard to some equitable rules which the

king had prescribed to them.[*] The most obnoxious compounded secretly.

* Burnet, p. 152.

** Burnet, p. 147.

No consideration was had, either of men’s riches, or of the degrees

of their guilt: no proofs were produced: inquiries were not so much as

made: but as fast as information was given in against any man, he was

marked down for a particular fine: and all was transacted in a secret

committee. When the list was read in parliament, exceptions were made

to several: some had been under age during the civil wars; some had been

abroad. But it was still replied, that a proper time would come when

every man should be heard in his own defence. The only intention, it was

said, of setting the fines was, that such persons should have no benefit

by the act of indemnity, unless they paid the sum demanded: every one

that chose to stand upon his innocence, and renounce the benefit of

the indemnity, might do it at his peril. It was well known, that no one

would dare so far to set at defiance so arbitrary an administration.

The king wrote to the council, ordering them to supersede the levying of

those fines: but Middleton found means, during some time, to elude these

orders.[*] And at last, the king obliged his ministers to compound for

half the sums which had been imposed. In all these transactions, and

in most others which passed during the present reign, we still find the

moderating hand of the king interposed to protect the Scots from the

oppressions which their own countrymen, employed in the ministry, were

desirous of exercising over them.

* Burnet, p. 201.

But the chief circumstance whence were derived all the subsequent

tyranny and disorders in Scotland, was the execution of the laws for the

establishment of Episcopacy; a mode of government to which a great part

of the nation had entertained an unsurmountable aversion. The rights

of patrons had for some years been abolished; and the power of electing

ministers had been vested in the kirk session and lay elders. It was

now enacted, that all incumbents who had been admitted upon this title,

should receive a presentation from the patron, and should be instituted

anew by the bishop, under the penalty of deprivation. The more

rigid Presbyterians concerted measures among themselves, and refused

obedience: they imagined that their number would protect them. Three

hundred and fifty parishes, above a third of the kingdom, were at once

declared vacant. The western counties chiefly were obstinate in this

particular. New ministers were sought for all over the kingdom; and no

one was so ignorant or vicious as to be rejected. The people, who loved

extremely and respected their former teachers; men remarkable for the

severity of their manners, and their fervor in preaching; were inflamed

against these intruders, who had obtained their livings under such

invidious circumstances, and who took no care, by the regularity of

their manners, to soften the prejudices entertained against them. Even

most of those who retained their livings by compliance, fell under the

imputation of hypocrisy, either by their showing a disgust to the new

model of ecclesiastical government which they had acknowledged; or, on

the other hand, by declaring, that their former adherence to Presbytery

and the covenant had been the result of violence and necessity. And as

Middleton and the new ministry indulged themselves in great riot and

disorder, to which the nation had been little accustomed, an opinion

universally prevailed, that any form of religion, offered by such hands,

must be profane and impious.

The people, notwithstanding their discontents, were resolved to give

no handle against them, by the least symptom of mutiny or sedition: but

this submissive disposition, instead of procuring a mitigation of the

rigors, was made use of as an argument for continuing the same measures,

which, by their vigor, it was pretended, had produced so prompt an

obedience. The king, however, was disgusted with the violence of

Middleton;[*] and he made Rothes commissioner in his place. This

nobleman was already president of the council; and soon after was made

lord keeper and treasurer. Lauderdale still continued secretary of

state, and commonly resided at London.

Affairs remained in a peaceable state, till the severe law was made in

England against conventicles.[**] The Scottish parliament imitated that

violence, by passing a like act. A kind of high commission court was

appointed by the privy council, for executing this rigorous law, and for

the direction of ecclesiastical affairs. But even this court, illegal

as it might be deemed, was much preferable to the method next adopted.

Military force was let loose by the council. Wherever the people had

generally forsaken their churches, the guards were quartered throughout

the country. Sir James Turner commanded them, a man whose natural

ferocity of temper was often inflamed by the use of strong liquors. He

went about, and received from the clergy lists of those who absented

themselves from church, or were supposed to frequent conventicles.

Without any proof or legal conviction, he demanded a fine from them,

and quartered soldiers on the supposed delinquents, till he received

payment. As an insurrection was dreaded during the Dutch war, new forces

were levied, and intrusted to the command, of Dalziel and Drummond;

two officers who had served the king during the civil wars, and had

afterwards engaged in the service of Russia, where they had increased

the native cruelty of their disposition. A full career was given to

their tyranny by the Scottish ministry. Representations were made to the

king against these enormities. He seemed touched with the state of the

country; and besides giving orders that the ecclesiastical commission

should be discontinued, he signified his opinion, that another way of

proceeding was necessary for his service.[***]

* Burnet, p 202.

** 1664.

*** Burnet, p. 213

This lenity of the king’s came too late to remedy the disorders. The

people, inflamed with bigotry, and irritated by ill usage, rose in

arms. They were instigated by Guthry, Semple, and other preachers. They

surprised Turner in Dumfries, and resolved to have put him to death; but

finding that his orders, which fell into their hands, were more violent

than his execution of them, they spared his life. At Laneric, after many

prayers, they renewed the covenant, and published their manifesto; in

which they professed all submission to the king: they desired only the

reëstablishment of Presbytery, and of their former ministers. As many

gentlemen of their party had been confined on suspicion, Wallace

and Learmont, two officers who had served, but in no high rank, were

intrusted by the populace with the command. Their force never exceeded

two thousand men; and though the country in general bore them favor,

men’s spirits were so subdued, that the rebels could expect no further

accession of numbers. Dalziel took the field to oppose their progress.

Their number was now diminished to eight hundred; and these, having

advanced near Edinburgh, attempted to find their way back into the west

by Pentland Hills. They were attacked by the king’s forces.[*] Finding

that they could not escape, they stopped their march. Their clergy

endeavored to infuse courage into them. After singing some psalms, the

rebels turned on the enemy; and being assisted by the advantage of the

ground, they received the first charge very resolutely. But that was

all the action: immediately they fell into disorder, and fled for their

lives. About forty were killed on the spot, and a hundred and thirty

taken prisoners. The rest, favored by the night, and by the weariness,

and even by the pity of the king’s troops, made their escape.

* November 28, 1666.

The oppressions which these people had suffered, the delusions

under which they labored, and their inoffensive behavior during the

insurrection, made them the objects of compassion: yet were the king’s

ministers, particularly Sharpe, resolved to take severe vengeance. Ten

were hanged on one gibbet at Edinburgh; thirty-five before their own

doors in different places. These criminals might all have saved their

lives, if they would have renounced the covenant. The executions were

going on, when the king put a stop to them. He said, that blood enough

had already been shed; and he wrote a letter to the privy council, in

which he ordered, that such of the prisoners as should simply promise

to obey the laws for the future, should be set at liberty, and that

the incorrigible should be sent to the plantations.[*] This letter was

brought by Burnet, archbishop of Glasgow; but not being immediately

delivered to the council by Sharpe, the president,[**] one Maccail had

in the interval been put to the torture, under which he expired. He

seemed to die in an ecstasy of joy. “Farewell, sun, moon, and stars;

farewell, world and time; farewell, weak and frail body: welcome,

eternity; welcome, angels and saints; welcome, Savior of the world; and

welcome, God, the Judge of all!” Such were his last words: and these

animated speeches he uttered with an accent and manner which struck all

the bystanders with astonishment.

* Burnet, p 237.

* Wodrow’s History, vol. i. p. 255.

The settlement of Ireland, after the restoration, was a work of greater

difficulty than that of England, or even of Scotland. Not only the

power, during the former usurpations, had there been vested in the

king’s enemies; the whole property, in a manner, of the kingdom had also

been changed: and it became necessary to redress, but with as little

violence as possible, many grievous hardships and iniquities which were

there complained of.

The Irish Catholics had in 1648 concluded a treaty with Ormond, the

king’s lieutenant; in which they had stipulated pardon for their past

rebellion, and had engaged, under certain conditions, to assist the

royal cause: and though the violence of the priests and the bigotry

of the people had prevented, in a great measure, the execution of this

treaty, yet were there many, who, having strictly, at the hazard of

their lives, adhered to it, seemed on that account well entitled to

reap the fruits of their loyalty. Cromwell, having without distinction

expelled all the native Irish from the three provinces of Munster,

Leinster, and Ulster, had confined them to Connaught and the county

of Clare; and among those who had thus been forfeited, were many whose

innocence was altogether unquestionable. Several Protestants likewise,

and Ormond among the rest, had all along opposed the Irish rebellion;

yet having afterwards embraced the king’s cause against the parliament,

they were all of them attainted by Cromwell. And there were many

officers who had from the commencement of the insurrection served in

Ireland, and who, because they would not desert the king, had been

refused all their arrears by the English commonwealth.

To all these unhappy sufferers some justice seemed to be due: but the

difficulty was, to find the means of redressing such great and extensive

iniquities. Almost all the valuable parts of Ireland had been measured

out and divided, either to the adventurers, who had lent money to

the parliament for the suppression of the Irish rebellion, or to the

soldiers, who had received land in lieu of their arrears. These could

not be dispossessed, because they were the most powerful and only armed

part of Ireland; because it was requisite to favor them, in order to

support the Protestant and English interest in that kingdom; and because

they had generally, with a seeming zeal and alacrity, concurred in the

king’s restoration. The king, therefore, issued a proclamation, in which

he promised to maintain their settlement, and at the same time engaged

to give redress to the innocent sufferers. There was a quantity of land

as yet undivided in Ireland; and from this and some other funds, it was

thought possible for the king to fulfil both these engagements.

A court of claims was erected, consisting altogether of English

commissioners, who had no connection with any of the parties into which

Ireland was divided. Before these were laid four thousand claims of

persons craving restitution on account of their innocence; and the

commissioners had found leisure to examine only six hundred. It already

appeared, that if all these were to be restored, the funds, whence the

adventurers and soldiers must get reprisals, would fall short of giving

them any tolerable satisfaction. A great alarm and anxiety seized all

ranks of men: the hopes and fears of every party were excited: these

eagerly grasped at recovering their paternal inheritance; those were

resolute to maintain their new acquisitions.

The duke of Ormond was created lord lieutenant; being the only person

whose prudence and equity could compose such jarring interests. A

parliament was assembled at Dublin; and as the lower house was almost

entirely chosen by the soldiers and adventurers, who still kept

possession, it was extremely favorable to that interest. The house of

peers showed greater impartiality.

An insurrection was projected, together with a surprisal of the Castle

of Dublin, by some of the disbanded soldiers; but this design was

happily defeated by the vigilance of Ormond. Some of the criminals were

punished. Blood, the most desperate of them, escaped into England.

But affairs could not long remain in the confusion and uncertainty into

which they had fallen. All parties seemed willing to abate somewhat

of their pretensions, in order to attain some stability; and Ormond

interposed his authority for that purpose. The soldiers and adventurers

agreed to relinquish a third of their possessions; and as they had

purchased their lands at very low prices, they had reason to think

themselves favored by this composition. All those who had been attainted

on account of their adhering to the king, were restored; and some of the

innocent Irish. It was a hard situation that a man was obliged to prove

himself innocent, in order to recover possession of the estate which he

and his ancestors had ever enjoyed: but the hardship was augmented by

the difficult conditions annexed to this proof. If the person had ever

lived in the quarters of the rebels, he was not admitted to plead his

innocence; and he was, for that reason alone, supposed to have been a

rebel. The heinous guilt of the Irish nation made men the more readily

overlook any iniquity which might fall on individuals; and it

was considered that, though it be always the interest of all good

governments to prevent injustice, it is not always possible to remedy

it, after it has had a long course, and has been attended with great

successes.

Ireland began to attain a state of some composure, when it was disturbed

by a violent act passed by the English parliament, which prohibited the

importation of Irish cattle into England.[*]

* In 1666.

Ormond remonstrated strongly against this law. He said, that the present

trade carried on between England and Ireland was extremely to the

advantage of the former kingdom, which received only provisions or rude

materials in return for every species of manufacture: that if the cattle

of Ireland were prohibited, the inhabitants of that island had no other

commodity by which they could pay England for their importations, and

must have recourse to other nations for a supply: that the industrious

inhabitants of England, if deprived of Irish provisions, which made

living cheap, would be obliged to augment the price of labor, and

thereby render their manufactures too dear to be exported to foreign

markets: that the indolent inhabitants of Ireland, finding provisions

fall almost to nothing, would never be induced to labor, but would

perpetuate to all generations their native sloth and barbarism: that

by cutting off almost entirely the trade between the kingdoms, all the

natural bands of union were dissolved, and nothing remained to keep the

Irish in their duty but force and violence: and that by reducing that

kingdom to extreme poverty, it would be even rendered incapable of

maintaining that military power, by which, during its well-grounded

discontents, it must necessarily be retained in subjection.

The king was so much convinced of the justness of these reasons, that he

used all his interest to oppose the bill; and he openly declared, that

he could not give his assent to it with a safe conscience. But the

commons were resolute in their purpose. Some of the rents of England

had fallen of late years, which had been ascribed entirely to the

importation of Irish cattle: several intrigues had contributed to

inflame that prejudice, particularly those of Buckingham and Ashley, who

were desirous of giving Ormond disturbance in his government: and the

spirit of tyranny, of which nations are as susceptible as individuals,

had extremely animated the English to exert their superiority over their

dependent state. No affair could be conducted with greater violence than

this was by the commons. They even went so far, in the preamble of the

bill, as to declare the importation of Irish cattle to be a nuisance. By

this expression they gave scope to their passion, and at the same time

barred the king’s prerogative, by which he might think himself entitled

to dispense with a law so full of injustice and bad policy. The lords

expunged the word; but as the king was sensible that no supply would be

given by the commons, unless they were gratified in their prejudices,

he was obliged both to employ his interest with the peers for making the

bill pass, and to give the royal assent to it. He could not, however,

forbear expressing his displeasure at the jealousy entertained against

him, and at the intention which the commons discovered of retrenching

his prerogative.

This law brought great distress for some time upon the Irish; but it has

occasioned their applying with greater industry to manufactures, and has

proved in the issue beneficial to that kingdom.