CHARLES II.
{1674.} IF we consider the projects of the famous cabal, it will appear
hard to determine, whether the end which those ministers pursued were
more blamable and pernicious, or the means by which they were to
effect it more impolitic and imprudent. Though they might talk only of
recovering or fixing the king’s authority, their intention could be no
other than that of making him absolute; since it was not possible to
regain or maintain, in opposition to the people, any of those powers of
the crown abolished by late law or custom, without subduing the people,
and rendering the royal prerogative entirely uncontrollable. Against
such a scheme they might foresee that every part of the nation would
declare themselves; not only the old parliamentary faction, which,
though they kept not in a body, were still numerous, but even the
greatest royalists, who were indeed attached to monarchy, but desired to
see it limited and restrained by law. It had appeared, that the present
parliament, though elected during the greatest prevalence of the
royal party, was yet tenacious of popular privileges, and retained a
considerable jealousy of the crown, even before they had received any
just ground of suspicion. The guards, therefore, together with a small
army, new levied and undisciplined, and composed, too, of Englishmen,
were almost the only domestic resources which the king could depend on
in the prosecution of these dangerous counsels.
The assistance of the French king was no doubt deemed by the cabal a
considerable support in the schemes which they were forming; but it is
not easily conceived they could imagine themselves capable of directing
and employing an associate of so domineering a character. They ought
justly to have suspected, that it would be the sole intention of Lewis,
as it evidently was his interest, to raise incurable jealousies between
the king and his people; and that he saw how much a steady, uniform
government in this island, whether free or absolute, would form
invincible barriers to his ambition. Should his assistance be demanded,
if he sent a small supply, it would serve only to enrage the people, and
render the breach altogether irreparable; if he furnished a great force,
sufficient to subdue the nation, there was little reason to trust his
generosity with regard to the use which he would make of this advantage.
In all its other parts, the plan of the cabal, it must be confessed,
appears equally absurd and incongruous. If the war with Holland
were attended with great success, and involved the subjection of the
republic, such an accession of force must fall to Lewis, not to Charles:
and what hopes afterwards of resisting by the greatest unanimity so
mighty a monarch? How dangerous, or rather how ruinous, to depend upon
his assistance against domestic discontents! If the Dutch, by their own
vigor, and the assistance of allies, were able to defend themselves, and
could bring the war to an equality, the French arms would be so employed
abroad, that no considerable reënforcement could thence be expected to
second the king’s enterprises in England. And might not the project
of overawing or subduing the people be esteemed of itself sufficiently
odious, without the aggravation of sacrificing that state which they
regarded as their best ally, and with which, on many accounts, they were
desirous of maintaining the greatest concord and strictest confederacy?
Whatever views likewise might be entertained of promoting by these
measures the Catholic religion, they could only tend to render all the
other schemes abortive, and make them fall with inevitable ruin upon the
projectors. The Catholic religion, indeed, where it is established, is
better fitted than the Protestant for supporting an absolute monarchy;
but would any man have bought of it as the means of acquiring arbitrary
authority in England, where it was more detested than even slavery
itself?
It must be allowed that the difficulties, and even inconsistencies,
attending the schemes of the cabal, are so numerous and obvious, that
one feels at first an inclination to deny the reality of those schemes,
and to suppose them entirely the chimeras of calumny and faction. But
the utter impossibility of accounting, by any other hypothesis, for
those strange measures embraced by the court, as well as for
the numerous circumstances which accompanied them, obliges us to
acknowledge, (though there remains no direct evidence of it,[*]) that
a formal plan was laid for changing the religion, and subverting the
constitution of England; and that the king and the ministry were in
reality conspirators against the people. What is most probable in human
affairs, is not always true and a very minute circumstance overlooked in
our speculations, serves often to explain events which may seem the most
surprising and unaccountable.
* Since the publication of this History, the author has had
occasion to see the most direct and positive evidence of
this conspiracy. From the urbanity and candor of the
principal of the Scotch college at Paris, he was admitted to
peruse James II.’s Memoirs, kept there. They amount to
several volumes of small folio, all writ with that prince’s
own hand, and comprehending the remarkable incidents of his
life, from his early youth till near the time of his death.
His account of the French alliance is as follows: The
intention of the king and duke was chiefly to change the
religion of England, which they deemed an easy undertaking,
because of the great propensity, as they imagined, of the
cavaliers and church party to Popery: the treaty with Lewis
was concluded at Versailles in the end of 1669, or beginning
of 1670, by Lord Arundel of Wardour, whom no historian
mentions as having had any hand in these transactions. The
purport of it was, that Lewis was to give Charles two
hundred thousand pounds a year in quarterly payments, in
order to enable him to settle the Catholic religion in
England; and he was also to supply him with an army of six
thousand men, in case of any insurrection. When that work
was finished, England was to join with France in making war
upon Holland. In case of success, Lewis was to have the
inland provinces; the prince of Orange, Holland in
sovereignty; and Charles, Sluice, the Brille, Walkeren, with
the rest of the seaports as far as Mazeland Sluice. The
king’s project was first to effect the change of religion in
England; but the duchess of Orleans, in the interview at
Dover, persuaded him to begin with the Dutch war, contrary
to the remonstrances of the duke of York, who insisted that
Lewis, after serving his own purpose, would no longer
trouble himself about England. The duke makes no mention of
any design to render the king absolute; but that was no
doubt implied in the other project, which was to be effected
entirely by royal authority. The king was so zealous a
Papist, that he wept for joy when he saw the prospect of
reuniting his kingdom to the Catholic church.
Sir John Dalrymple has since published some other curious particulars
with regard to this treaty. We find that it was concerted and signed
with the privity alone of four Popish counsellors of the king’s;
Arlington, Arundel, Clifford, and Sir Richard-Bealing. The secret was
kept from Buckingham, Ashley, and Lauderdale. In order to engage them to
take part in it, a very refined and a very mean artifice was fallen upon
by the king. After the secret conclusion and signature of the treaty,
the king pretended to these three ministers that for smaller matters,[*]
and the ordinary occurrences of life nor had he application enough to
carry his view to distant consequences, or to digest and adjust any plan
of political operations.
* Duke of Buckingham’s character of King Charles II.
As he scarcely ever thought twice on any one subject, every appearance
of advantage was apt to seduce him; and when he found his way obstructed
by unlooked-for difficulties, he readily turned aside into the first
path, where he expected more to gratify the natural indolence of his
disposition. To this versatility or pliancy of genius he himself was
inclined to trust; and he thought that, after trying an experiment for
enlarging his authority, and altering the national religion, he could
easily, if it failed, return into the ordinary channel of government.
But the suspicions of the people, though they burst not forth at once,
were by this attempt rendered altogether incurable; and the more they
reflected on the circumstances attending it, the more resentment and
jealousy were they apt to entertain. They observed, that the king never
had any favorite; that he was never governed by his ministers, scarcely
even by his mistresses; and that he himself was the chief spring of all
public counsels. Whatever appearance, therefore, of a change might be
assumed, they still suspected that the same project was secretly in
agitation; and they deemed no precaution too great to secure them
against the pernicious consequences of such measures.
He wished to have a treaty and alliance with France for mutual
supports and for a Dutch war; and when various pretended obstacles and
difficulties were surmounted, a sham treaty was concluded with their
consent and approbation, containing every article of the former real
treaty, except that of the king’s change of religion. However, there
was virtually involved, even in this treaty, the assuming of absolute
government in England; for the support of French troops, and a war with
Holland, so contrary to the interests and inclinations of his people,
could mean nothing else. One cannot sufficiently admire the absolute
want of common sense which appears throughout the whole of this criminal
transaction. For if Popery was so much the object of national
horror, that even the king’s three ministers, Buckingham, Ashley, and
Lauderdale, and such profligate ones, too, either would not or durst
not receive it, what hopes could he entertain of forcing the nation into
that communion? Considering the state of the kingdom, full of veteran
and zealous soldiers, bred during the civil wars, it is probable that
he had not kept the crown two months after a declaration so wild and
extravagant. This was probably the reason why the king of France and the
French minister always dissuaded him from taking off the mask, till
the successes of the Dutch war should render that measure prudent and
practicable.
The king, sensible of this jealousy, was inclined thenceforth not
to trust his people, of whom he had even before entertained a great
diffidence; and though obliged to make a separate peace, he still kept
up connections with the French monarch. He apologized for deserting his
ally, by representing to him all the real, undissembled difficulties
under which he labored; and Lewis, with the greatest complaisance and
good humor, admitted the validity of his excuses. The duke likewise,
conscious that his principles and conduct had rendered him still more
obnoxious to the people, maintained on his own account a separate
correspondence with the French court, and entered into particular
connections with Lewis, which these princes dignified with the name
of friendship. The duke had only in view to secure his succession, and
favor the Catholics, and it must be acknowledged to his praise, that
though his schemes were in some particulars dangerous to the people,
they gave the king no just ground of jealousy. A dutiful subject, and an
affectionate brother, he knew no other rule of conduct than obedience;
and the same unlimited submission which afterwards, when king, he
exacted of his people, he was ever willing, before he ascended the
throne, to pay to his sovereign.
As the king was at peace with all the world, and almost the only prince
in Europe placed in that agreeable situation, he thought proper to
offer his mediation to the contending powers, in order to compose their
differences. France, willing to negotiate under so favorable a mediator,
readily accepted of Charles’s offer; but it was apprehended that, for a
like reason, the allies would be inclined to refuse it. In order
to give a sanction to his new measures, the king invited Temple from his
retreat, and appointed him ambassador to the states. That wise minister,
reflecting on the unhappy issue of his former undertakings, and the
fatal turn of counsels which had occasioned it, resolved, before he
embarked anew, to acquaint himself, as far as possible, with the real
intentions of the king, in those popular measures which he seemed again
to have adopted. After blaming the dangerous schemes of the cabal, which
Charles was desirous to excuse, he told his majesty very plainly, that
he would find it extremely difficult, if not absolutely impossible, to
introduce into England the same system of government and religion which
was established in France: that the universal bent of the nation was
against both; and it required ages to change the genius and sentiments
of a people: that many, who were at bottom indifferent in matters of
religion, would yet oppose all alterations on that head because they
considered, that nothing but force of arms could subdue the reluctance
of the people against Popery; after which, they knew there could be no
security for civil liberty: that in France, every circumstance had
long been adjusted to that system of government, and tended to
its establishment and support: that the commonalty, being poor and
dispirited, were of no account; the nobility, engaged by the prospect
or possession of numerous offices, civil and military, were entirely
attached to the court; the ecclesiastics, retained by like motives,
added the sanction of religion to the principles of civil policy: that
in England, a great part of the landed property belonged either to the
yeomanry or middling gentry; the king had few offices to bestow; and
could not himself even subsist, much less maintain an army, except by
the voluntary supplies of his parliament: that if he had an army on
foot, yet, if composed of Englishmen, they would never be prevailed
on to promote ends which the people so much feared and hated: that the
Roman Catholics in England were not the hundredth part of the nation,
and in Scotland not the two hundredth; and it seemed against all common
sense to hope, by one part, to govern ninety-nine, who were of contrary
sentiments and dispositions: and that foreign troops, if few, would tend
only to inflame hatred and discontent; and how to raise and bring over
at once, or to maintain many, it was very difficult to imagine. To these
reasonings Temple added the authority of Gourville, a Frenchman,
for whom he knew the king had entertained a great esteem. “A king of
England,” said Gourville, “who will be the man of his people, is the
greatest king in the world; but if he will be any thing more, he is
nothing at all.” The king heard at first this discourse with some
impatience; but being a dexterous dissembler, he seemed moved at last,
and laying his hand on Temple’s, said, with an appearing cordiality,
“And I will be the man of my people.”
Temple, when he went abroad, soon found that the scheme of mediating a
peace was likely to prove abortive. The allies, besides their jealousy
of the king’s mediation, expressed a great ardor for the continuance
of war. Holland had stipulated with Spain never to come to an
accommodation, till all things in Flanders were restored to the
condition in which they had been left by the Pyrenean treaty. The
emperor had high pretensions in Alsace; and as the greater part of
the empire joined in the alliance, it was hoped that France, so much
overmatched in force, would soon be obliged to submit to the terms
demanded of her. The Dutch, indeed, oppressed by heavy taxes, as well
as checked in their commerce, were desirous of peace; and had few or no
claims of their own to retard it: but they could not in gratitude, or
even in good policy, abandon allies to whose protection they had so
lately been indebted for their safety. The prince of Orange likewise,
who had great influence in their councils, was all on fire for military
fame, and was well pleased to be at the head of armies, from which such
mighty successes were expected. Under various pretences, he eluded,
during the whole campaign, the meeting with Temple; and after the troops
were sent into winter quarters, he told that minister, in his first
audience, that till greater impression were made on France, reasonable
terms could not be hoped for; and it were therefore vain to negotiate.
The success of the campaign had not answered expectation. The prince of
Orange, with a superior army, was opposed in Flanders to the prince of
Condé, and had hoped to penetrate into France by that quarter, where the
frontier was then very feeble. After long endeavoring, though in vain,
to bring Condé to a battle, he rashly exposed at Seneffe a wing of his
army; and that active prince failed not at once to see and to seize
the advantage. But this imprudence of the prince of Orange was amply
compensated by his behavior in that obstinate and bloody action which
ensued. He rallied his dismayed troops; he led them to the charge; he
pushed the veteran and martial troops of France; and he obliged the
prince of Condé, notwithstanding his age and character, to exert greater
efforts, and to risk his person more, than in any action where, even
during the heat of youth, he had ever commanded. After sunset, the
action was continued by the light of the moon; and it was darkness
at last, not the weariness of the combatants, which put an end to the
contest, and left the victory undecided. “The prince of Orange,” said
Condé, with candor and generosity, “has acted in every thing like an old
captain, except venturing his life too like a young soldier.” Oudenarde
was afterwards invested by the prince of Orange but he was obliged by
the imperial and Spanish generals to raise the siege on the approach of
the enemy. He afterwards besieged and took Grave; and at the beginning
of winter the allied armies broke up, with great discontents and
complaints on all sides.
The allies were not more successful in other places. Lewis in a few
weeks reconquered Franche Gompte. In Alsace, Turenne displayed, against
a much superior enemy, all that military skill which had long rendered
him the most renowned captain of his age and nation. By a sudden and
forced march, he attacked and beat at Sintzheim the duke of Lorraine
and Caprara, general of the imperialists. Seventy thousand Germans
poured into Alsace, and took up their quarters in that province.
Turenne, who had retired into Lorraine, returned unexpectedly upon
them. He attacked and defeated a body of the enemy at Mulhausen. He
chased from Colmar the elector of Brandenburgh, who commanded the
German troops. He gained a new advantage at Turkheim. And having
dislodged all the allies, he obliged them to repass the Rhine, full of
shame for their multiplied defeats, and still more, of anger and
complaints against each other.
In England, all these events were considered by the people with great
anxiety and concern; though the king and his ministers affected great
indifference with regard to them. Considerable alterations were about
this time made in the English ministry. Buckingham was dismissed, who
had long, by his wit and entertaining humor, possessed the king’s favor.
Arlington, now chamberlain, and Danby, the treasurer, possessed chiefly
the king’s confidence. Great hatred and jealousy took place between
these ministers; and public affairs were somewhat disturbed by their
quarrels. But Danby daily gained ground with his master; and Arlington
declined in the same proportion. Danby was a frugal minister; and by his
application and industry he brought the revenue into tolerable order. He
endeavored so to conduct himself as to give offence to no party; and
the consequence was, that he was able entirely to please none. He was
a declared enemy to the French alliance; but never possessed authority
enough to overcome the prepossessions which the king and the duke
retained towards it. It must be ascribed to the
prevalence of that interest, aided by money remitted from Paris, that
the parliament was assembled so late this year, lest they should
attempt to engage the king in measures against France during the ensuing
campaign. They met not till the approach of summer.[*]
* This year, on the twenty-fifth of March, died Henry
Cromwell, second son of the protector, in the forty-seventh
year of his age. He had lived unmolested in a private
station, ever since the king’s restoration, which he rather
favored than opposed.
{1675.} Every step taken by the commons discovered that ill humor and
jealousy to which the late open measures of the king, and his present
secret attachments, gave but too just foundation. They drew up a new
bill against Popery, and resolved to insert in it many severe clauses
for the detection and prosecution of priests: they presented addresses
a second time against Lauderdale; and when the king’s answer was
not satisfactory, they seemed still determined to persevere in their
applications: an accusation was moved against Danby; but upon examining
the several articles, it was not found to contain any just reasons of
a prosecution, and was therefore dropped: they applied to the king for
recalling his troops from the French service; and as he only promised
that they should not be recruited, they appeared to be much dissatisfied
with the answer: a bill was brought in, making it treason to levy money
without authority of parliament; another vacating the seats of such
members as accepted of offices; another to secure the personal liberty
of the subject, and to prevent sending any person prisoner beyond sea.
That the court party might not be idle during these attacks, a bill
for a new test was introduced into the house of peers by the earl of
Lindesey. All members of either house, and all who possessed any office,
were by this bill required to swear mat it was not lawful, upon any
pretence whatsoever, to take arms against the king; that they abhorred
the traitorous position of taking arms by his authority against his
person, or against those who were commissioned by him; and that they
will not at any time endeavor the alteration of the Protestant religion,
or of the established government either in church or state.
Great opposition was made to this bill, as might be expected from the
present disposition of the nation. During seventeen days, the debates
were carried on with much zeal; and all the reason and learning of
both parties were displayed on the occasion. The question, indeed, with
regard to resistance, was a point which entered into the controversies
of the old parties, cavalier and roundhead; as it made an essential
part of the present disputes between court and country. Few neuters
were found in the nation: but among such as could maintain a calm
indifference, there prevailed sentiments wide of those which were
adopted by either party. Such persons thought, that all general
speculative declarations of the legislature, either for or against
resistance, were equally impolitic and could serve to no other purpose
than to signalize in their turn the triumph of one faction over another:
that the simplicity retained in the ancient laws of England, as well as
in the laws of every other country, ought still to be preserved, and
was best calculated to prevent the extremes on either side: that the
absolute exclusion of resistance, in all possible cases, was founded on
false principles; its express admission might be attended with dangerous
consequences; and there was no necessity for exposing the public to
either inconvenience: that if a choice must necessarily be made in the
case, the preference of utility to truth in public institutions was
apparent; nor could the supposition of resistance, beforehand and in
general terms, be safely admitted in any government: that even in mixed
monarchies, where that supposition seemed most requisite, it was yet
entirely superfluous; since no man, on the approach of extraordinary
necessity, could be at a loss, though not directed by legal
declarations, to find the proper remedy: that even those who might at a
distance, and by scholastic reasoning, exclude all resistance, would yet
hearken to the voice of nature, when evident ruin, both to themselves
and to the public, must attend a strict adherence to their pretended
principles: that the question, as it ought thus to be entirely excluded
from all determinations of the legislature, was, even among private
reasoners, somewhat frivolous, and little better than a dispute of
words: that the one party could not pretend that resistance ought ever
to become a familiar practice; the other would surely have recourse to
it in great extremities; and thus the difference could only turn on
the degrees of danger or oppression which would warrant this irregular
remedy; a difference which, in a general question, it was impossible by
any language precisely to fix or determine.
There were many other absurdities in this test, particularly that of
binding men by oath not to alter the government either in church or
state; since all human institutions are liable to abuse, and require
continual amendments, which are in reality so many alterations. It is
not indeed possible to make a law which does not innovate, more or less,
in the government. These difficulties produced such obstructions to the
bill, that it was carried only by two voices in the house of peers. All
the Popish lords, headed by the earl cf Bristol, voted against it. It
was sent down to the house of commons, where it was likely to undergo a
scrutiny still more severe.
But a quarrel which ensued between the two houses, prevented the passing
of every bill projected during the present session. One Dr. Shirley,
being cast in a lawsuit before chancery against Sir John Fag, a member
of the house of commons, preferred a petition of appeal to the house of
peers. The lords received it, and summoned Fag to appear before them.
He complained to the lower house, who espoused his cause. They not only
maintained, that no member of their house could be summoned before the
peers; they also asserted, that the upper house could receive no appeals
from any court of equity; a pretension which extremely retrenched the
jurisdiction of the peers, and which was contrary to the practice that
had prevailed during this whole century. The commons send Shirley to
prison; the lords assert their powers. Conferences are tried; but no
accommodation ensues. Four lawyers are sent to the Tower by the commons,
for transgressing the orders of the house, and pleading in this cause
before the peers. The peers denominate this arbitrary commitment a
breach of the Great Charter, and order the lieutenant of the Tower to
release the prisoners: he declines obedience: they apply to the king,
and desire him to punish the lieutenant for his contempt. The king
summons both houses; exhorts them to unanimity; and informs them, that
the present quarrel had arisen from the contrivance of his and their
enemies, who expected by that means to force a dissolution of the
parliament. His advice has no effect: the commons continue as violent as
ever; and the king, finding that no business could be finished, at last
prorogued the parliament.
When the parliament was again assembled, there appeared not in any
respect a change in the dispositions of either house. The king
desired supplies, as well for the building of ships, as for taking off
anticipations which lay upon his revenue, He even confessed, that he had
not been altogether so frugal as he might have been, and as he
resolved to be for the future; though he asserted that, to his great
satisfaction, he had found his expenses by no means so exorbitant as
some had represented them. The commons took into consideration the
subject of supply. They voted three hundred thousand pounds for the
building of ships; but they appropriated the sum by very strict clauses.
They passed a resolution not to grant any supply for taking off the
anticipations of the revenue.[*] This vote was carried in a full house,
by a majority of four only: so nearly were the parties balanced. The
quarrel was revived, to which Dr. Shirley’s cause had given occasion.
The proceedings of the commons discovered the same violence as during
the last session. A motion was made in the house of peers, but rejected,
for addressing the king to dissolve the present parliament. The king
contented himself with proroguing them to a very long term. Whether
these quarrels between the houses arose from contrivance or accident,
was not certainly known. Each party might, according to their different
views, esteem themselves either gainers or losers by them. The court
might desire to obstruct all attacks from the commons, by giving them
other employment. The country party might desire the dissolution of a
parliament, which, notwithstanding all disgusts, still contained too
many royalists ever to serve all the purposes of the malecontents.
* Several historians have affirmed, that the commons found
this session, upon inquiry, that the king’s revenue was one
million six hundred thousand pounds a year, and that the
necessary expense was out seven hundred thousand pounds; and
have appealed to the journals for a proof. But there is not
the least appearance of this in the journals; and the fact
is impossible.
Soon after the prorogation, there passed an incident, which in itself
is trivial, but tends strongly to mark the genius of the English
government, and of Charles’s administration during this period. The
liberty of the constitution, and the variety as well as violence of the
parties, had begotten a propensity for political conversation; and as
the coffee-houses in particular were the scenes where the conduct of the
king and the ministry was canvassed with great freedom, a proclamation
was issued to suppress these places of rendezvous. Such an act of
power, during former reigns, would have been grounded entirely on the
prerogative; and before the accession of the house of Stuart, no scruple
would have been entertained with regard to that exercise of authority.
But Charles, finding doubts to arise upon his proclamation, had recourse
to the judges, who supplied him with a chicane, and that too a frivolous
one, by which he might justify his proceedings. The law which settled
the excise enacted, that licenses for retailing liquors might be refused
to such as could not find security for payment of the duties. But coffee
was not a liquor subjected to excise; and even this power of refusing
licenses was very limited, and could not reasonably be extended beyond
the intention of the act. The king, therefore, observing the people
to be much dissatisfied, yielded to a petition of the coffee-men, who
promised for the future to restrain all seditious discourse in their
houses; and the proclamation was recalled.
This campaign proved more fortunate to the confederates than any other
during the whole war. The French took the field in Flanders with a
numerous army; and Lewis himself served as a volunteer under the prince
of Condé. But notwithstanding his great preparations, he could gain
no advantages but the taking of Huy and Limbourg, places of small
consequence. The prince of Orange with a considerable army opposed him
in all his motions; and neither side was willing, without a visible
advantage, to hazard a general action, which might be attended either
with the entire loss of Flanders on the one hand, or the invasion of
France on the other. Lewis, tired of so inactive a campaign, returned to
Versailles; and the whole summer passed in the Low Countries without any
memorable event.
Turenne commanded on the Upper Rhine, in opposition to his great rival,
Montecuculi, general of the imperialists. The object of the latter was
to pass the Rhine, to penetrate into Alsace, Lorraine, or Burgundy, and
to fix his quarters in these provinces: the aim of the former was to
guard the French frontiers, and to disappoint all the schemes of his
enemy. The most consummate skill was displayed on both sides; and if any
superiority appeared in Turenne’s conduct, it was chiefly ascribed to
his greater vigor of body, by which he was enabled to inspect all the
posts in person, and could on the spot take the justest measures for the
execution of his designs. By posting himself on the German side of the
Rhine, he not only kept Montecuculi from passing that river: he had also
laid his plan in so masterly a manner, that in a few days he must have
obliged the Germans to decamp, and have gained a considerable advantage
over them; when a period was put to his life by a random shot, which
struck him on the breast as he was taking a view of the enemy. The
consternation of his army was inexpressible. The French troops, who
a moment before were assured of victory, now considered themselves
as entirely vanquished; and the Germans, who would have been glad to
compound for a safe retreat, expected no less than the total destruction
of their enemy. But De Lorges, nephew to Turenne, succeeded him in the
command, and possessed a great share of the genius and capacity of
his predecessor. By his skilful operations, the French were enabled to
repass the Rhine, without considerable loss; and this retreat was deemed
equally glorious with the greatest victory. The valor of the English
troops, who were placed in the rear, greatly contributed to save the
French army. They had been seized with the same passion as the native
troops of France for their brave general, and fought with ardor to
revenge his death on the Germans. The duke of Marlborough, then Captain
Churchill, here learned the rudiments of that art which he afterwards
practised with such fatal success against France.
The prince of Condé left the army in Flanders under the command
of Luxembourg; and carrying with him a considerable reënforcement,
succeeded to Turenne’s command. He defended Alsace from the Germans, who
had passed the Rhine, and invaded that province. He obliged them first
to raise the siege of Hagenau, then that of Saberne. He eluded all their
attempts to bring him to a battle. And having dexterously prevented them
from establishing themselves in Alsace, he forced them, notwithstanding
their superiority of numbers, to repass the Rhine, and to take up winter
quarters in their own country.
After the death of Turenne, a detachment of the German army was sent
to the siege of Treves; an enterprise in which the imperialists, the
Spaniards, the palatine, the duke of Lorraine, and many other princes,
passionately concurred. The project was well concerted, and executed
with vigor. Mareschal Crequi, on the other hand, collected an army, and
advanced with a view of forcing the Germans to raise the siege. They
left a detachment to guard their lines, and, under the command of
the dukes of Zell and Osnaburgh, marched in quest of the enemy. At
Consarbric they fell unexpectedly, and with superior numbers, on Crequi,
and put him to rout. He escaped with four attendants only; and throwing
himself into Treves, resolved, by a vigorous defence, to make atonement
for his former error or misfortune. The garrison was brave, but not
abandoned to that total despair by which their governor was actuated.
They mutinied against his obstinacy; capitulated for themselves; and
because he refused to sign the capitulation, they delivered him a
prisoner into the hands of the enemy.
It is remarkable, that this defeat, given to Crequi, is almost the only
one which the French received at land, from Rocroi to Blenheim, during
the course of above sixty years; and these, too, full of bloody wars
against potent and martial enemies: their victories almost equal the
number of years during that period. Such was the vigor and good conduct
of that monarchy! and such, too, were the resources and refined policy
of the other European nations, by which they were enabled to repair
their losses, and still to confine that mighty power nearly within its
ancient limits! A fifth part of these victories would have sufficed, in
another period, to have given to France the empire of Europe.
The Swedes had been engaged, by the payment of large subsidies, to
take part with Lewis, and invade the territories of the elector of
Brandenburgh in Pomerania. That elector joined by some imperialists from
Silesia, fell upon them with bravery and success. He soon obliged them
to evacuate his part of that country, and he pursued them into their
own. He had an interview with the king of Denmark, who had now joined
the confederates, and resolved to declare war against Sweden. These
princes concerted measures for pushing the victory.
To all these misfortunes against foreign enemies were added some
domestic insurrections of the common people in Guienne and Brittany.
Though soon suppressed, they divided the force and attention of Lewis.
The only advantage gained by the French was at sea. Messina in Sicily
had revolted; and a fleet under the duke de Vivonne was despatched
to support the rebels. The Dutch had sent a squadron to assist the
Spaniards. A battle ensued, where De Ruyter was killed. This event alone
was thought equivalent to a victory.
The French, who twelve years before had scarcely a ship of war in any
of their harbors, had raised themselves, by means of perseverance and
policy, to be, in their present force, though not in their resources,
the first maritime power in Europe. The Dutch, while in alliance with
them against England, had supplied them with several vessels, and had
taught them the rudiments of the difficult art of ship-building. The
English next, when in alliance with them against Holland, instructed
them in the method of fighting their ships, and of preserving order
in naval engagements. Lewis availed him self of every opportunity to
aggrandize his people, while Charles, sunk in indolence and pleasure,
neglected all the noble arts of government; or if at any time he roused
himself from his lethargy, that industry, by reason of the unhappy
projects which he embraced, was often more pernicious to the public than
his inactivity itself. He was as anxious to promote the naval power of
France as if the safety of his crown had depended on it; and many of the
plans executed in that kingdom were first, it is said,[*] digested and
corrected by him.
* Welwood, Burnet, Coke.
{1676.} The successes of the allies had been considerable the last
campaign; but the Spaniards and imperialists well knew that France was
not yet sufficiently broken, nor willing to submit to the terms which
they resolved to impose upon her. Though they could not refuse the
king’s mediation, and Nimeguen, after many difficulties, was at last
fixed on as the place of congress, yet, under one pretence or other,
they still delayed sending their ambassadors, and no progress was made
in the negotiation. Lord Berkeley, Sir William Temple, and Sir Lionel
Jenkins were the English ministers at Nimeguen. The Dutch, who were
impatient for peace, soon appeared: Lewis, who hoped to divide the
allies, and who knew that he himself could neither be seduced nor forced
into a disadvantageous peace, sent ambassadors: the Swedes, who hoped
to recover by treaty what they had lost by arms, were also forward to
negotiate. But as these powers could not proceed of themselves to settle
terms, the congress, hitherto, served merely as an amusement to the
public.
It was by the events of the campaign, not the conferences among the
negotiators, that the articles of peace were to be determined. The
Spanish towns, ill fortified and worse defended, made but a feeble
resistance to Lewis; who, by laying up magazines during the winter, was
able to take the field early in the spring, before the forage could
be found in the open country. In the month of April, he laid siege
to Condé, and took it by storm in four days. Having sent the duke of
Orleans to besiege Bouchaine, a small but important fortress, he
posted himself so advantageously with his main army, as to hinder the
confederates from relieving it, or fighting without disadvantage. The
prince of Orange, in spite of the difficulties of the season and the
want of provisions, came in sight of the French army; but his industry
served to no other purpose than to render him spectator of the surrender
of Bouchaine. Both armies stood in awe of each other, and were unwilling
to hazard an action which might be attended with the most important
consequences. Lewis, though he wanted not personal courage, was little
enterprising in the field; and being resolved this campaign to rest
contented with the advantages which he had so early obtained, he thought
proper to intrust his army to Mareschal Schomberg, and retired himself
to Versailles. After his departure, the prince of Orange laid siege to
Maestricht; but meeting with an obstinate resistance, he was obliged, on
the approach of Schomberg, who in the mean time had taken Aire, to raise
the siege. He was incapable of yielding to adversity, or bending under
misfortunes: but he began to foresee that, by the negligence and
errors of his allies, the war in Flanders must necessarily have a very
unfortunate issue.
On the Upper Rhine, Philipsbourg was taken by the imperialists. In
Pomerania, the Swedes were so unsuccessful against the Danes and
Brandenburghers, that they seemed to be losing apace all those
possessions which, with so much valor and good fortune, they had
acquired in Germany.
About the beginning of winter, the congress of Nimeguen was pretty full;
and the plenipotentiaries of the emperor and Spain, two powers strictly
conjoined by blood and alliance, at last appeared. The Dutch had
threatened, if they absented themselves any longer, to proceed to a
separate treaty with France. In the conferences and negotiations, the
dispositions of the parties became every day more apparent.
{1677.} The Hollanders, loaded with debts and harassed with taxes, were
desirous of putting an end to a war, in which, besides the disadvantages
attending all leagues, the weakness of the Spaniards, the divisions
and delays of the Germans, prognosticated nothing but disgrace and
misfortune. Their commerce languished; and, what gave them still
greater anxiety, the commerce of England, by reason of her neutrality,
flourished extremely; and they were apprehensive, lest advantages, once
lost, would never thoroughly be regained. They had themselves no
further motive for continuing the war, than to secure a good frontier
to Flanders; but gratitude to their allies still engaged them to try,
whether another campaign might procure a peace which would give general
satisfaction. The prince of Orange, urged by motives of honor, of
ambition, and of animosity against France, endeavored to keep them
steady to this resolution.
The Spaniards, not to mention the other incurable weaknesses into which
their monarchy was fallen, were distracted with domestic dissensions
between the parties of the queen regent and Don John, natural brother to
their young sovereign. Though unable of themselves to defend Flanders,
they were resolute not to conclude a peace which would leave it exposed
to every assault or inroad; and while they made the most magnificent
promises to the states, their real trust was in the protection of
England. They saw that, if that small but important territory were once
subdued by France, the Hollanders, exposed to so terrible a power, would
fall into dependence, and would endeavor, by submissions, to ward
off that destruction to which a war in the heart of their state must
necessarily expose them. They believed that Lewis, sensible how much
greater advantages he might reap from the alliance than from the
subjection of the republic, which must scatter its people and depress
its commerce, would be satisfied with very moderate conditions, and
would turn his enterprises against his other neighbors. They thought it
impossible but the people and parliament of England, foreseeing these
obvious consequences, must at last force the king to take part in
the affairs of the continent, in which their interests were so deeply
concerned. And they trusted, that even the king himself, on the approach
of so great a danger, must open his eyes, and sacrifice his prejudices
in favor of France to the safety of his own dominions.
But Charles here found himself entangled in such opposite motives and
engagements, as he had not resolution enough to break, or patience to
unravel. On the one hand, he always regarded his alliance with France
as a sure resource in case of any commotions among his own subjects; and
whatever schemes he might still retain for enlarging his authority, or
altering the established religion, it was from that quarter alone he
could expect assistance. He had actually in secret sold his neutrality
to France, and he received remittances of a million of livres a year,
which was afterwards increased to two millions; a considerable supply
in the present embarrassed state of his revenue. And he dreaded lest the
parliament should treat him as they had formerly done his father;
and after they had engaged him in a war on the continent, should
take advantage of his necessities, and make him purchase supplies by
sacrificing his prerogative, and abandoning his ministers.
On the other hand, the cries of his people and parliament, seconded by
Danby, Arlington, and most of his ministers, incited him to take part
with the allies, and to correct the unequal balance of power in Europe.
He might apprehend danger from opposing such earnest desires: he
might hope for large supplies if he concurred with them: and however
inglorious and indolent his disposition, the renown of acting as arbiter
of Europe would probably at intervals rouse him from his lethargy, and
move him to support the high character with which he stood invested.
It is worthy of observation, that, during this period, the king was, by
every one, abroad and at home, by France and by the allies, allowed
to be the undisputed arbiter of Europe; and no terms of peace which he
would have prescribed, could have been refused by either party. Though
France afterwards found means to resist the same alliance, joined with
England, yet was she then obliged to make such violent efforts as quite
exhausted her; and it was the utmost necessity which pushed her to find
resources far surpassing her own expectations. Charles was sensible,
that, so long as the war continued abroad, he should never enjoy ease at
home, from the impatience and importunity of his subjects; yet could
he not resolve to impose a peace by openly joining himself with either
party. Terms advantageous to the allies must lose him the friendship of
France: the contrary would enrage his parliament. Between these views,
he perpetually fluctuated; and from his conduct, it is observable, that
a careless, remiss disposition, agitated by opposite motives, is
capable of as great inconsistencies as are incident even to the greatest
imbecility and folly.
The parliament was assembled; and the king made them a plausible speech,
in which he warned them against all differences among themselves;
expressed a resolution to do his part for bringing their consultations
to a happy issue; and offered his consent to any laws for the further
security of their religion, liberty, and property. He then told them of
the decayed condition of the navy, and asked money for repairing it. He
informed them, that part of his revenue, the additional excise, was soon
to expire; and he added these words; “You may at any time see the yearly
established expense of the government, by which it will appear, that
the constant and unavoidable charge being paid, there will remain no
overplus towards answering those contingencies which may happen in all
kingdoms, and which have been a considerable burden on me this last
year.”
Before the parliament entered upon business, they were stopped by a
doubt concerning the legality of their meeting It had been enacted, by
an old law of Edward III., “That parliament should be held once every
year, or oftener, if need be.” The last prorogation had been longer than
a year; and being supposed on that account illegal, it was pretended to
be equivalent to a dissolution. The consequence seems by no means just;
and besides, a later act, that which repealed the triennial law, had
determined, that it was necessary to hold parliaments only once in three
years. Such weight, however was put on this cavil, that Buckingham,
Shaftesbury, Salisbury, and Wharton, insisted strenuously in the house
of peers on the invalidity of the parliament, and the nullity of all its
future acts. For such dangerous positions they were sent to the Tower,
there to remain during the pleasure of his majesty and the house.
Buckingham, Salisbury, and Wharton made submissions, and were soon after
released. But Shaftesbury, more obstinate in his temper, and desirous of
distinguishing himself by his adherence to liberty, sought the remedy
of law; and being rejected by the judges, he was at last, after a
twelvemonth’s imprisonment, obliged to make the same submissions; upon
which he was also released.
The commons at first seemed to proceed with temper. They granted the
sum of five hundred and eighty-six thousand pounds, for building thirty
ships; though they strictly appropriated the money to that service.
Estimates were given in of the expense; but it was afterwards found
that they fell short near one hundred thousand pounds. They also voted,
agreeably to the king’s request, the continuance of the additional
excise for three years. This excise had been granted for nine years in
1668. Every thing seemed to promise a peaceable and an easy session.
But the parliament was roused from this tranquillity by the news
received from abroad. The French king had taken the field in the middle
of February, and laid siege to Valenciennes, which he carried in a few
days by storm. He next invested both Cambray and St. Omers. The prince
of Orange, alarmed with his progress, hastily assembled an army, and
marched to the relief of St. Omers. He was encountered by the French,
under the duke of Orleans and Mareschal Luxembourg. The prince possessed
great talents for war; courage, activity, vigilance, patience; but still
he was inferior in genius to those consummate generals opposed to him by
Lewis and though he always found means to repair his losses, and to make
head in a little time against the victors, he was during his whole
life, unsuccessful. By a masterly movement of Luxembourg, he was here
defeated, and obliged to retreat to Ypres. Cambray and St. Omers were
soon after surrendered to Lewis.
This success, derived from such great power and such wise conduct,
infused a just terror into the English parliament. They addressed the
king, representing the danger to which the kingdom was exposed from the
greatness of France; and praying that his majesty, by such alliances as
he should think fit, would both secure his own dominions and the Spanish
Netherlands, and thereby quiet the fears of his people. The king,
desirous of eluding this application, which he considered as a kind of
attack on his measures, replied in general terms, that he would use all
means for the preservation of Flanders, consistent with the peace and
safety of his kingdoms. This answer was an evasion, or rather a denial.
The commons, therefore, thought proper to be more explicit. They
entreated him not to defer the entering into such alliances as might
attain that great end; and in case war with the French king should be
the result of his measures, they promised to grant him all the aids and
supplies, which would enable him to support the honor and interest of
the nation. The king was also more explicit in his reply. He told them,
that the only way to prevent danger, was to put him in a condition to
make preparations for their security. This message was understood to
be a demand of money. The parliament accordingly empowered the king to
borrow on the additional excise two hundred thousand pounds at seven per
cent.; a very small sum indeed; but which they deemed sufficient, with
the ordinary revenue, to equip a good squadron, and thereby put the
nation in security, till further resolutions should be taken.
But this concession fell far short of the king’s expectations. He
therefore informed them, that, unless they granted him the sum of six
hundred thousand pounds upon new funds, it would not be possible for
him, without exposing the nation to manifest danger, to speak or act
those things which would answer the end of their several addresses. The
house took this message into consideration: but before they came to any
resolution, the king sent for them to Whitehall, where he told them,
upon the word of a king, that they should not repent any trust which
they would repose in him for the safety of his kingdom; that he would
not for any consideration break credit with them, or employ their money
to other uses than those for which they intended it; but that he would
not hazard either his own safety or theirs, by taking any vigorous
measures, or forming new alliances, till he were in a better condition
both to defend his subjects and offend his enemies. This speech brought
affairs to a short issue. The king required them to trust him with a
large sum; he pawned his royal word for their security: they must either
run the risk of losing their money, or fail of those alliances which
they had projected, and at the same time declare to all the world the
highest distrust of their sovereign.
But there were many reasons which determined the house of commons to put
no trust in the king. They considered, that the pretence of danger was
obviously groundless, while the French were opposed by such powerful
alliances on the continent, while the king was master of a good fleet at
sea, and while all his subjects were so heartily united in opposition
to foreign enemies: that the only justifiable reason, therefore, of
Charles’s backwardness, was not the apprehension of danger from
abroad, but a diffidence which he might perhaps have entertained of his
parliament; lest, after engaging him in foreign alliances for carrying
on war, they should take advantage of his necessities, and extort from
him concessions dangerous to his royal dignity: that this parliament,
by their past conduct, had given no foundation for such suspicions,
and were so far from pursuing any sinister ends, that they had granted
supplies for the first Dutch war; for maintaining the triple league,
though concluded without their advice; even for carrying on the second
Dutch war, which was entered into contrary to their opinion, and
contrary to the manifest interests of the nation: that, on the other
hand, the king had, by former measures, excited very reasonable
jealousies in his people, and did with a bad grace require at present
their trust and confidence. That he had not scrupled to demand supplies
for maintaining the triple league, at the very moment he was concerting
measures for breaking it; and had accordingly employed, to that purpose,
the supplies which he had obtained by those delusive pretences: that
his union with France, during the war against Holland, must have been
founded on projects the most dangerous to his people; and as the same
union was still secretly maintained, it might justly be feared that
the same projects were not yet entirely abandoned, that he could not
seriously intend to prosecute vigorous measures against France; since he
had so long remained entirely unconcerned during such obvious dangers;
and, till prompted by his parliament, whose proper business it was not
to take the lead in those parts of administration, had suspended all his
activity: that if he really meant to enter into a cordial union with
his people, he would have taken the first step, and have endeavored, by
putting trust in them, to restore that confidence, which he himself,
by his rash conduct, had first violated: that it was in vain to ask
so small a sum as six hundred thousand pounds, in order to secure him
against the future attempts of the parliament; since that sum must soon
be exhausted by a war with France, and he must again fall into
that dependence, which was become in some degree essential to the
constitution: that if he would form the necessary alliances, that sum,
or a greater, would instantly be voted; nor could there be any reason
to dread, that the parliament would immediately desert measures in which
they were engaged by their honor, their inclination, and the public
interest: that the real ground, therefore, of the king’s refusal was
neither apprehension of danger from foreign enemies, nor jealousy of
parliamentary encroachments; but a desire of obtaining the money,
which he intended, notwithstanding his royal word, to employ to other
purposes; and that, by using such dishonorable means to so ignoble
an end, he rendered himself still more unworthy the confidence of his
people.
The house of commons was now regularly divided into two parties, the
court and the country. Some were enlisted in the court party by offices,
nay, a few by bribes secretly given them; a practice first begun by
Clifford, a dangerous minister: but great numbers were attached merely
by inclination; so far as they esteemed the measures of the court
agreeable to the interests of the nation. Private views and faction had
likewise drawn several into the country party: but there were also
many of that party, who had no other object than the public good. These
disinterested members on both sides fluctuated between the factions;
and gave the superiority sometimes to the court, sometimes to the
opposition.[A] In the present emergence, a general distrust of the king
prevailed; and the parliament resolved not to hazard their money in
expectation of alliances, which, they believed, were never intended
to be formed. Instead of granting the supply, they voted an address,
wherein they “besought his majesty to enter into a league, offensive and
defensive, with the states general of the United Provinces, against the
growth and power of the French king, and for the preservation of
the Spanish Netherlands; and to make such other alliances with the
confederates as should appear fit and useful to that end.” They
supported their advice with reasons; and promised speedy and effectual
supplies, for preserving his majesty’s honor and insuring the safety of
the public. The king pretended the highest anger at this address, which
he represented as a dangerous encroachment upon his prerogative. He
reproved the commons in severe terms, and ordered them immediately to be
adjourned.
It is certain, that this was the critical moment, when the king both
might with ease have preserved the balance of power in Europe, which
it has since cost this island a great expense of blood and treasure
to restore, and might by perseverance have at last regained, in some
tolerable measure, after all past errors, the confidence of his people.
This opportunity being neglected, the wound became incurable; and
notwithstanding his momentary appearances of vigor against France and
Popery, and their momentary inclinations to rely on his faith, he was
still believed to be at bottom engaged in the same interests, and they
soon relapsed into distrust and jealousy. The secret memoirs of this
reign, which have since been published,[*] prove beyond a doubt, that
the king had at this time concerted measures with France, and had no
intention to enter into a war in favor of the allies. He had entertained
no view, therefore, even when he pawned his royal word to his people,
than to procure a grant of money; and he trusted that, while he
eluded their expectations, he could not afterwards want pretences for
palliating his conduct.
* Such as the letters which passed betwixt Danby and
Montague, the king’s ambassador at Paris; Temple’s Memoirs,
and his Letters. In these last, we see that the king never
made any proposals of terms but what were advantageous to
France; and the prince of Orange believed them to have
always been concerted with the French ambassador. Vol. i. p.
439.
In Sir John Dalrymple’s Appendix, (p. 103,) it appears, that
the king had signed himself, without the participation of
his ministers, a secret treaty with France, and had obtained
a pension on the promise of his neutrality; a tact which
renders his royal word, solemnly given to his subjects, one
of the most dishonorable and most scandalous acts that ever
proceeded from a throne.
Negotiations meanwhile were carried on between France and Holland, and
an eventual treaty was concluded; that is all their differences were
adjusted, provided they could after wards satisfy their allies on both
sides. This work, though in appearance difficult, seemed to be extremely
forwarded, by further bad successes on the part of the confederates, and
by the great impatience of the Hollanders; when a new event happened,
which promised a more prosperous issue to the quarrel with France, and
revived the hopes of all the English who understood the interests of
their country.
The king saw with regret the violent discontents which prevailed in the
nation, and which seemed every day to augment upon him. Desirous by his
natural temper to be easy himself, and to make every body else easy,
he sought expedients to appease those murmurs, which, as they were
very disagreeable for the present, might in their consequences prove
extremely dangerous. He knew that, during the late war with Holland, the
malecontents at home had made applications to the prince of Orange; and
if he continued still to neglect the prince’s interests, and to thwart
the inclinations of his own people, he apprehended lest their common
complaints should cement a lasting union between them. He saw that the
religion of the duke inspired the nation with dismal apprehensions; and
though he had obliged his brother to allow the young princesses to be
educated in the Protestant faith, something further, he thought, was
necessary, in order to satisfy the nation. He entertained, therefore,
proposals for marrying the prince of Orange to the lady Mary, the elder
princess, and heir apparent to the crown, (for the duke had no male
issue;) and he hoped, by so tempting an offer, to engage him entirely
in his interests. A peace he purposed to make; such as would satisfy
France, and still preserve his connections with that crown; and he
intended to sanctify it by the approbation of the prince, whom he found
to be extremely revered in England, and respected throughout Europe.
All the reasons for this alliance were seconded by the solicitations of
Danby, and also of Temple, who was at that time in England; and Charles
at last granted permission to the prince, when the campaign should be
over, to pay him a visit.
The king very graciously received his nephew at Newmarket. He would have
entered immediately upon business but the prince desired first to be
acquainted with the lady Mary; and he declared, that, contrary to the
usual sentiments of persons of his rank, he placed a great part of
happiness in domestic satisfaction, and would not, upon any
consideration of interest or politics, match himself with a person
disagreeable to him. He was introduced to the princess, whom he found in
the bloom of youth, and extremely amiable both in her person and her
behavior. The king now thought that he had a double tie upon him, and
might safely expect his compliance with every proposal: he was surprised
to find the prince decline all discourse of business, and refuse to
concert any terms for the general peace, till his marriage should be
finished. He foresaw, he said, from the situation of affairs that his
allies were likely to have hard terms; and he never would expose himself
to the reproach of having sacrificed their interests to promote his own
purposes. Charles still believed, notwithstanding the cold, severe
manner of the prince, that he would abate of this rigid punctilio of
honor; and he protracted the time, hoping, by his own insinuation and
address, as well as by the allurements of love and ambition, to win him
to compliance. One day, Temple found the prince in very bad humor,
repenting that he had ever come to England, and resolute in a few days
to leave it: but before he went, the king, he said, must choose the
terms on which they should hereafter live together: he was sure it must
be like the greatest friends or the greatest enemies: and he desired
Temple to inform his master next morning of these intentions. Charles
was struck with this menace, and foresaw how the prince’s departure
would be interpreted by the people. He resolved, therefore, immediately
to yield with a good grace; and having paid a compliment to his nephew’s
honesty, he told Temple that the marriage was concluded, and desired him
to inform the duke of it, as of an affair already resolved on. The duke
seemed surprised; but yielded a prompt obedience: which, he said, was
his constant maxim to whatever he found to be the king’s pleasure. No
measure during this reign gave such general satisfaction. All parties
strove who should most applaud it. And even Arlington, who had been kept
out of the secret, told the prince, “that some things, good in
themselves, were spoiled by the manner of doing them, as some things bad
were mended by it; but he would confess, that this was a thing so good
in itself, that the manner of doing it could not spoil it.”
This marriage was a great surprise to Lewis, who, accustomed to govern
every thing in the English court, now found so important a step taken,
not only without his consent, but without his knowledge or
participation. A conjunction of England with the allies, and a vigorous
war in opposition to French ambition, were the consequences immediately
expected, both abroad and at home: but to check these sanguine hopes,
the king, a few days after the marriage, prolonged the adjournment of
the parliament from the third of December to the fourth of April. This
term was too late for granting supplies, or making preparations for war;
and could be chosen by the king for no other reason, than as an
atonement to France for his consent to the marriage. It appears also,
that Charles secretly received from Lewis the sum of two millions of
livres on account of this important service.[*]
* Sir John Dalrymple’s Appendix, p. 112.
The king, however, entered into consultations with the prince, together
with Danby and Temple, concerning the terms which it would be proper to
require of France. After some debate, it was agreed, that France should
restore Lorraine to the duke; with Tournay, Valenciennes, Condé, Aeth,
Charleroi, Courtray, Oudenarde, and Binche to Spain, in order to form
a good frontier for the Low Countries. The prince insisted that Franche
Compte should likewise be restored and Charles thought that, because he
had patrimonial estates of great value in that province, and deemed his
property more secure in the hands of Spain, he was engaged by such views
to be obstinate in that point: but the prince declared, that to procure
but one good town to the Spaniards in Flanders, he would willingly
relinquish all those possessions. As the king still insisted on the
impossibility of wresting Franche Compte from Lewis, the prince was
obliged to acquiesce.
Notwithstanding this concession to France, the projected peace was
favorable to the allies, and it was a sufficient indication of vigor in
the king, that he had given his assent to it. He further agreed to send
over a minister instantly to Paris, in order to propose these terms.
This minister was to enter into no treaty: he was to allow but two
days for the acceptance or refusal of the terms: upon the expiration
of these, he was presently to return: and in case of refusal, the
king promised to enter immediately into the confederacy. To carry so
imperious a message, and so little expected from the English court,
Temple was the person pitched on, whose declared aversion to the French
interest was not likely to make him fail of vigor and promptitude in the
execution of his commission.
But Charles next day felt a relenting in this assumed vigor. Instead of
Temple, he despatched the earl of Feversham, a creature of the duke’s,
and a Frenchman by birth; and he said, that the message being harsh in
itself, it was needless to aggravate it by a disagreeable messenger. The
prince left London; and the king, at his departure, assured him, that he
never would abate in the least point of the scheme concerted, and would
enter into war with Lewis if he rejected it.
Lewis received the message with seeming gentleness and complacency. He
told Feversham, that the king of England well knew that he might always
be master of the peace; but some of the towns in Flanders it seemed
very hard to demand, especially Tournay, upon whose fortifications such
immense sums had been expended: he would therefore take some short time
to consider of an answer. Feversham said, that he was limited to two
days’ stay: but when that time was elapsed, he was prevailed on to
remain some few days longer; and he came away at last without any
positive answer. Lewis said, that he hoped his brother would not break
with him for one or two towns: and with regard to them too, he would
send orders to his ambassador at London to treat with the king himself.
Charles was softened by the softness of France; and the blow was thus
artfully eluded. The French ambassador, Barillon, owned at last, that
he had orders to yield all except Tournay, and even to treat about some
equivalent for that fortress, if the king absolutely insisted upon it.
The prince was gone who had given spirit to the English court; and the
negotiation began to draw out into messages and returns from Paris.
By intervals, however, the king could rouse himself, and show still some
firmness and resolution. Finding that affairs were not likely to come
to any conclusion with France, he summoned, notwithstanding the long
adjournment, the parliament on the fifteenth of January; an unusual
measure, and capable of giving alarm to the French court. Temple was
sent for to the council; and the king told him, that he intended he
should go to Holland, in order to form a treaty of alliance with the
states; and that the purpose of it should be, like the triple league, to
force both France and Spain to accept of the terms proposed. Temple was
sorry to find this act of vigor qualified by such a regard to France,
and by such an appearance of indifference and neutrality between the
parties. He told the king, that the resolution agreed on, was to begin
the war in conjunction with all the confederates, in case of no direct
and immediate answer from France: that this measure would satisfy the
prince, the allies, and the people of England; advantages which could
not be expected from such an alliance with Holland alone: that France
would be disobliged, and Spain likewise; nor would the Dutch be
satisfied with such a faint imitation of the triple league, a measure
concerted when they were equally at peace with both parties. For these
reasons, Temple declined the employment; and Lawrence Hyde, second son
of Chancellor Clarendon, was sent in his place.
{1678.} The prince of Orange could not regard without contempt such
symptoms of weakness and vigor conjoined in the English counsels. He
was resolved, however, to make the best of a measure which he did not
approve; and as Spain secretly consented that her ally should form a
league, which was seemingly directed against her as well as France, but
which was to fall only on the latter, the states concluded the treaty in
the terms proposed by the king.
Meanwhile the English parliament met, after some new adjournments: and
the king was astonished that, notwithstanding the resolute measures
which he thought he had taken, great distrust, and jealousy, and
discontent were apt, at intervals, still to prevail among the members.
Though in his speech he had allowed that a good peace could no longer
be expected from negotiation, and assured them, that he was resolved to
enter into a war for that purpose, the commons did not forbear to insert
in their reply several harsh and even unreasonable clauses. Upon his
reproving them, they seemed penitent; and voted, that they would assist
his majesty in the prosecution of the war. A fleet of ninety sail, an
army of thirty thousand men, and a million of money were also voted.
Great difficulties were made by the commons with regard to the army,
which the house, judging by past measures, believed to be intended more
against the liberties of England than against the progress of the French
monarch. To this perilous situation had the king reduced both himself
and the nation. In all debates, severe speeches were made, and were
received with seeming approbation: the duke and the treasurer began
to be apprehensive of impeachments: many motions against the king’s
ministers were lost by a small majority: the commons appointed a day to
consider the state of the kingdom with regard to Popery; and they even
went so far as to vote that, how urgent soever the occasion, they would
lay no further charge on the people, till secured against the prevalence
of the Catholic party. In short, the parliament was impatient for war
whenever the king seemed averse to it; but grew suspicious of some
sinister design as soon as he complied with their requests, and seemed
to enter into their measures.
The king was enraged at this last vote: he reproached Temple with his
popular notions, as he termed them; and asked him how he thought the
house of commons could be trusted for carrying on the war, should it be
entered on, when in the very commencement they made such declarations.
The uncertainties indeed of Charles’s conduct were so multiplied,
and the jealousies on both sides so incurable, that even those who
approached nearest the scene of action, could not determine, whether the
king ever seriously meant to enter into a war; or whether, if he did,
the house of commons would not have taken advantage of his necessities,
and made him purchase supplies by a great sacrifice of his authority.[A]
The king of France knew how to avail himself of all the advantages which
these distractions afforded him. By his emissaries, he represented
to the Dutch the imprudence of their depending on England; where an
indolent king, averse to all war, especially with France, and irresolute
in his measures, was actuated only by the uncertain breath of a factious
parliament. To the aristocratical party he remarked the danger of the
prince’s alliance with the royal family of England, and revived their
apprehensions, lest, in imitation of his father, who had been honored
with the same alliance, he should violently attempt to enlarge his
authority, and enslave his native country. In order to enforce these
motives with further terrors, he himself took the field very early
in the spring; and after threatening Luxembourg, Mons, and Namur he
suddenly sat down before Ghent and Ypres, and in a few weeks made
himself master of both places. This success gave great alarm to the
Hollanders, who were nowise satisfied with the conduct of England, or
with the ambiguous treaty lately concluded; and it quickened all their
advances towards an accommodation.
Immediately after the parliament had voted the supply, the king began
to enlist forces; and such was the ardor of the English for a war with
France, that an army of above twenty thousand men, to the astonishment
of Europe, was completed in a few weeks. Three thousand men, under the
duke of Monmouth, were sent over to secure Ostend: some regiments were
recalled from the French service: a fleet was fitted out with great
diligence: and a quadruple alliance was projected between England,
Holland, Spain, and the emperor.
But these vigorous measures received a sudden damp from a passionate
address of the lower house; in which they justified all their past
proceedings that had given disgust to the king; desired to be acquainted
with the measures taken by him; prayed him to dismiss evil counsellors;
and named in particular the duke of Lauderdale, on whose removal they
strenuously insisted. The king told them, that their address was so
extravagant, that he was not willing speedily to give it the answer
which it deserved. And he began again to lend an ear to the proposals
of Lewis, who offered him great sums of money, if he would consent to
France’s making an advantageous peace with the allies.
Temple, though pressed by the king, refused to have any concern in so
dishonorable a negotiation: but he informs us, that the king said, there
was one article proposed which so incensed him that as long as he lived
he should never forget it. Sir William goes no further; but the editor
of his works, the famous Dr. Swift, says, that the French, before they
would agree to any payment, required as a preliminary, that the king
should engage never to keep above eight thousand regular troops in Great
Britain.[*] Charles broke into a passion. “Cod’s-fish,” said he, (his
usual oath,) “does my brother of France think to serve me thus? Are all
his promises to make me absolute master of my people come to this? Or
does he think that a thing to be done with eight thousand men?”
* To wit, three thousand men for Scotland, and
the usual guards and garrisons in England, amounting to near
five thousand men. Sir J. Dalrymple’s App p. 161.
Van Beverning was the Dutch ambassador at Nimeguen, a man of great
authority with the states. He was eager for peace, and was persuaded,
that the reluctance of the king and the jealousies of the parliament
would forever disappoint the allies in their hopes of succor from
England. Orders were sent him by the states to go to the French king at
Ghent, and to concert the terms of a general treaty, as well as procure
a present truce for six weeks. The terms agreed on were much worse for
the Spaniards than those which had been planned by the King and the
prince of Orange. Six towns, some of them of no great importance, were
to be restored to them, but Ypres, Condé, Valenciennes, and Tournay,
in which consisted the chief strength of their frontier, were to remain
with France.
Great murmurs arose in England when it was known that Flanders was to be
left in so defenceless a condition. The chief complaints were levelled
against the king, who, by his concurrence at first, by his favor
afterwards, and by his delays at last, had raised the power of France
to such an enormous height, that it threatened the general liberties
of Europe. Charles, uneasy under these imputations, dreading the
consequence of losing the affections of his subjects, and perhaps
disgusted with the secret article proposed by France, began to wish
heartily for war, which, he hoped, would have restored him to his
ancient popularity.
An opportunity unexpectedly offered itself for his displaying these new
dispositions. While the ministers at Nimeguen were concerting the terms
of a general treaty, the marquis de Balbaces, the Spanish ambassador,
asked the ambassadors of France at what time France intended to restore
the six towns in Flanders. They made no difficulty in declaring, that
the king, their master, being obliged to see an entire restitution made
to the Swedes of all they had lost in the war, could not evacuate these
towns till that crown had received satisfaction; and that this detention
of places was the only means to induce the powers of the north to accept
of the peace.
The states immediately gave the king intelligence of a pretension which
might be attended with such dangerous consequences. The king was both
surprised and angry. He immediately despatched Temple to concert with
the states vigorous measures for opposing France. Temple in six days
concluded a treaty, by which Lewis was obliged to declare, within
sixteen days after the date, that he would presently evacuate the towns:
and in case of his refusal, Holland was bound to continue the war, and
England to declare immediately against France, in conjunction with the
whole confederacy.
All these warlike measures were so ill seconded by the parliament, where
even the French ministers were suspected, with reason,[*] of carrying on
some intrigues, that the commons renewed their former jealousies against
the king, and voted the army immediately to be disbanded.
* Sir John Dalrymple, in his Appendix, has given us, from
Barilton’s despatches in the secretary’s office at Paris, a
more particular detail of these intrigues. They were carried
on with Lord Russel, Lord Hollis, Lord Berkshire, the duke of
Buckingham, Algernon Sydney, Montague, Bulstrode, Colonel
Titus, Sir Edward Harley, Sir John Baber, Sir Roger Hill,
Boscawen, Littleton, Powle, Harbord, Hambden, Sir Thomas
Armstrong, Hotham, Herbert, and some others of less note. Of
these Lord Russel and Lord Hollis alone refused to touch any
French money: all the others received presents or bribes
from Barillon. But we are to remark, that the party views of
these men, and their well-founded jealousies of the king and
duke, engaged them, independently of the money, into the
same measures that were suggested to them by the French
ambassador. The intrigues of France, therefore, with the
parliament, were a mighty small engine in the political
machine. Those with the king, which have always been known,
were of infinitely greater consequence. The sums distributed
to all these men, excepting Montague, did not exceed sixteen
thousand pounds in three years; and therefore could have
little weight in the two houses, especially when opposed to
the influence of the crown. Accordingly we find, in all
Barillon’s despatches, a great anxiety that the parliament
should never be assembled. The conduct of these English
patriots was more mean than criminal; and Monsieur Courten
says, that two hundred thousand livres employed by the
Spaniards and Germans, would have more influence than two
millions distributed by France. See Sir J. Dalrymple’s App.
p. 111. It is amusing to observe the general, and I may say
national, rage excited by the late discovery of this secret
negotiation; chiefly on account of Algernon Sydney, whom the
blind prejudices of party had exalted into a hero. His
ingratitude and breach of faith, in applying for the king’s
pardon, and immediately on his return entering into cabals
for rebellion, form a conduct much more criminal than the
taking of French gold: yet the former circumstance was
always known, and always disregarded. But every thing
connected with France is supposed, in England, to be
polluted beyond all possibility of expiation. Even Lord
Russel, whose conduct in this negotiation was only factious,
and that in an ordinary degree, is imagined to be dishonored
by the same discovery.
The king by a message represented the danger of disarming before peace
were finally concluded; and he recommended to their consideration,
whether he could honorably recall his forces from those towns in
Flanders which were put under his protection, and which had at present
no other means of defence. The commons agreed to prolong the term
with regard to these forces. Every thing, indeed, in Europe bore the
appearance of war. France had positively declared, that she would not
evacuate the six towns before the requisite cession was made to Sweden
and her honor seemed now engaged to support that declaration. Spain and
the empire, disgusted with the terms of peace imposed by Holland,
saw with pleasure the prospect of a powerful support from the new
resolutions of Charles. Holland itself, encouraged by the prince of
Orange and his party, was not displeased to find that the war would
be renewed on more equal terms. The allied army under that prince was
approaching towards Mons, then blockaded by France. A considerable body
of English, under the duke of Monmouth, was ready to join him.
Charles usually passed a great part of his time in the women’s
apartments, particularly those of the duchess of Portsmouth; where,
among other gay company, he often met with Barillon, the French
ambassador, a man of polite conversation, who was admitted into all the
amusements of that inglorious but agreeable monarch. It was the charms
of this sauntering, easy life, which, during his later years, attached
Charles to his mistresses. By the insinuations of Barillon and the
duchess of Portsmouth, an order was, in an unguarded hour, procured,
which instantly changed the face of affairs in Europe. One Du Cros, a
French fugitive monk, was sent to Temple, directing him to apply to the
Swedish ambassador, and persuade him not to insist on the conditions
required by France, but to sacrifice to general peace those interests of
Sweden. Du Cros, who had secretly received instructions from Barillon,
published every where in Holland the commission with which he was
intrusted; and all men took the alarm. It was concluded that Charles’s
sudden alacrity for war was as suddenly extinguished, and that no steady
measures could ever be taken with England. The king afterwards, when
he saw Temple, treated this important matter in raillery; and said,
laughing, that the rogue Du Cros had outwitted them all.
The negotiations, however, at Nimeguen still continued; and the French
ambassadors spun out the time till the morning of the critical day,
which, by the late treaty between England and Holland, was to determine
whether a sudden peace or a long war were to have place in Christendom.
The French ambassadors came then to Van Beverning, and told him that
they had received orders to consent to the evacuation of the towns, and
immediately to conclude and sign the peace. Van Boverning might have
refused compliance, because it was now impossible to procure the consent
and concurrence of Spain; but he had entertained so just an idea of the
fluctuations in the English counsels, and was so much alarmed by the
late commission given to Du Cros, that he deemed it fortunate for the
republic to finish on any terms a dangerous war, where they were likely
to be very ill supported. The papers were instantly drawn, and signed by
the ministers of France and Holland between eleven and twelve o’clock at
night. By this treaty, France secured the possession of Franche Compte,
together with Cambray, Aire, St. Omers, Valenciennes, Tournay, Ypres,
Bouchaine, Cassel, etc., and restored to Spain only Charleroi, Courtrai,
Oudenard, Aeth, Ghent, and Limbourg.
Next day, Temple received an express from England, which brought the
ratifications of the treaty lately concluded with the states, together
with orders immediately to proceed to the exchange of them. Charles was
now returned to his former inclinations for war with France.
Van Beverning was loudly exclaimed against by the ambassadors of the
allies at Nimeguen, especially those of Brandenburg and Denmark, whose
masters were obliged by the treaty to restore all their acquisitions.
The ministers of Spain and the emperor were sullen and disgusted; and
all men hoped that the states, importuned and encouraged by continual
solicitations from England, would disavow their ambassador, and renew
the war. The prince of Orange even took an extraordinary step, in order
to engage them to that measure; or perhaps to give vent to his own
spleen and resentment. The day after signing the peace at Nimeguen,
he attacked the French army at St. Dennis, near Mons; and gained some
advantage over Luxembourg, who rested secure on the faith of the treaty,
and concluded the war to be finished. The prince knew, at least had
reason to believe, that the peace was signed, though it had not been
formally notified to him; and he here sacrificed wantonly, without a
proper motive, the lives of many brave men on both sides, who fell in
this sharp and well-contested action.
Hyde was sent over with a view of persuading the states to disavow Van
Beverning; and the king promised that England, if she might depend on
Holland, would immediately declare war, and would pursue it, till France
were reduced to reasonable conditions. Charles at present went further
than words. He hurried on the embarkation of his army for Flanders and
all his preparations wore a hostile appearance. But the states had been
too often deceived to trust him any longer. They ratified the treaty
signed at Nimeguen; and all the other powers of Europe were at last,
after much clamor and many disgusts, obliged to accept of the terms
prescribed to them.
Lewis had now reached the height of that glory which ambition can
afford. His ministers and negotiators appeared as much superior to
those of all Europe in the cabinet, as his generals and armies had been
experienced in the field. A successful war had been carried on against
an alliance, composed of the greatest potentates in Europe. Considerable
conquests had been made, and his territories enlarged on every side. An
advantageous peace was at last concluded, where he had given the law.
The allies were so enraged against each other, that they were not likely
to cement soon in any new confederacy. And thus he had, during some
years a real prospect of attaining the monarchy of Europe, and of
exceeding the empire of Charlemagne, perhaps equalling that of ancient
Rome. Had England continued much longer in the same condition, and
under the same government, it is not easy to conceive that he could have
failed of his purpose.
In proportion as these circumstances exalted the French, they excited
indignation among the English, whose animosity, roused by terror,
mounted to a great height against that rival nation. Instead of taking
the lead in the affairs of Europe, Charles, they thought, had, contrary
to his own honor and interest, acted a part entirely subservient to the
common enemy; and in all his measures had either no project at all, or
such as was highly criminal and dangerous. While Spain, Holland, the
emperor, the princes of Germany, called aloud on England to lead them
to victory and to liberty, and conspired to raise her to a station
more glorious than she had ever before attained, her king, from mean,
pecuniary motives, had secretly sold his alliance to Lewis, and was
bribed into an interest contrary to that of his people. His active
schemes in conjunction with France were highly pernicious; his
neutrality was equally ignominious; and the jealous, refractory behavior
of the parliament, though in itself dangerous, was the only remedy for
so many greater ills, with which the public, from the misguided counsels
of the king, was so nearly threatened. Such, were the dispositions
of men’s minds at the conclusion of the peace of Nimeguen: and these
dispositions naturally prepared the way for the events which followed.
We must now return to the affairs of Scotland, which we left in some
disorder, after the suppression of the insurrection in 1666. The king,
who at that time endeavored to render himself popular in England,
adopted like measures in Scot-* land, and he intrusted the government
into the hands chiefly of Tweddale and Sir Robert Murray, men of
prudence and moderation. These ministers made it their principal object
to compose the religious differences, which ran so high, and for which
scarcely any modern nation but the Dutch had as yet found the proper
remedy. As rigor and restraint had failed of success in Scotland, a
scheme of comprehension was tried; by which it was intended to diminish
greatly the authority of bishops, to abolish their negative voice in the
ecclesiastical courts, and to leave them little more than the right
of precedency among the Presbyters. But the Presbyterian zealots
entertained great jealousy against this scheme. They remembered that, by
such gradual steps, King James had endeavored to introduce Episcopacy.
Should the ears and eyes of men be once reconciled to the name and habit
of bishops, the whole power of the function, they dreaded, would
soon follow: the least communication with unlawful and anti-Christian
institutions they esteemed dangerous and criminal. “Touch not, taste
not, handle not;” this cry went out amongst them: and the king’s
ministers at last perceived, that they should prostitute the dignity
of government, by making advances, to which the malecontents were
determined not to correspond.
The next project adopted was that of indulgence. In prosecution of this
scheme, the most popular of the expelled preachers, without requiring
any terms of submission to the established religion, were settled in
vacant churches; and small salaries of about twenty pounds a year were
offered to the rest, till they should otherwise be provided for. These
last refused the king’s bounty, which they considered as the wages of
a criminal silence. Even the former soon repented their compliance.
The people, who had been accustomed to hear them rail against their
superiors, and preach to the times, as they termed it, deemed their
sermons languid and spiritless when deprived of these ornaments.
Their usual gifts, they thought, had left them, on account of their
submission, which was stigmatized as Erastianism. They gave them the
appellation, not of ministers of Christ, but of the king’s curates,
as the clergy of the established church were commonly denominated the
bishop’s curates. The preachers themselves returned in a little time
to their former practices, by which they hoped to regain their former
dominion over the minds of men. The conventicles multiplied daily in the
west; the clergy of the established church were insulted; the laws were
neglected; the Covenanters even met daily in arms at their places of
worship; and though they usually dispersed themselves after divine
service, yet the government took a just alarm at seeing men, who were so
entirely governed by their seditious teachers, dare to set authority
at defiance, and during a time of full peace to put themselves in a
military posture.
There was here, it is apparent, in the political body, a disease
dangerous and inveterate; and the government had tried every remedy but
the true one to allay and correct it. An unlimited toleration, after
sects have diffused themselves and are strongly rooted, is the only
expedient which can allay their fervor, and make the civil union acquire
a superiority above religious distinctions. But as the operations of
this regimen are commonly gradual, and at first imperceptible, vulgar
politicians are apt, for that reason, to have recourse to more hasty and
more dangerous remedies. It is observable too, that these nonconformists
in Scotland neither offered nor demanded toleration; but laid claim
to an entire superiority, and to the exercise of extreme rigor against
their adversaries. The covenant, which they idolized, was a persecuting,
as well as a seditious band of confederacy; and the government, instead
of treating them like madmen, who should be soothed, and flattered,
and deceived into tranquillity, thought themselves entitled to a rigid
obedience, and were too apt, from a mistaken policy, to retaliate upon
the dissenters, who had erred from the spirit of enthusiasm.
Amidst these disturbances, a new parliament was assembled at
Edinburgh;[*] and Lauderdale was sent down commissioner. The zealous
Presbyterians, who were the chief patrons of liberty, were too obnoxious
to resist, with any success, the measures of government; and in
parliament the tide still ran strongly in favor of monarchy.
* October 19, 1669.
The commissioner had such influence as to get two acts passed, which
were of great consequence to the ecclesiastical and civil liberties of
the kingdom. By the one it was declared, that the settling of all things
with regard to the external government of the church, was a right of the
crown: that whatever related to ecclesiastical meetings, matters, and
persons, was to be ordered according to such directions as the king
should send to his privy council: and that these, being published by
them should have the force of laws. The other act regarded the militia,
which the king by his own authority had two years before established,
instead of the army which was disbanded. By this act, the militia
was settled, to the number of twenty-two thousand men, who were to be
constantly armed and regularly disciplined. And it was further enacted,
that these troops should be held in readiness to march into England,
Ireland, or any part of the king’s dominions, for any cause in which
his majesty’s authority, power, or greatness was concerned; on receiving
orders, not from the king himself, but from the privy council of
Scotland.
Lauderdale boasted extremely of his services in procuring these two
laws. The king by the former was rendered absolute master of the church,
and might legally, by his edict, reëstablish, if he thought proper, the
Catholic religion in Scotland. By the latter, he saw a powerful force
ready at his call: he had even the advantage of being able to disguise
his orders under the name of the privy council; and in case of failure
in his enterprises, could by such a pretence apologize for his conduct
to the parliament of England. But in proportion as these laws were
agreeable to the king, they gave alarm to the English commons, and
were the chief cause of the redoubled attacks which they made upon
Lauderdale. These attacks, however, served only to fortify him in his
interest with the king; and though it is probable that the militia of
Scotland, during the divided state of that kingdom, would, if matters
had come to extremities, have been of little service against England,
yet did Charles regard the credit of it as a considerable support to his
authority: and Lauderdale, by degrees, became the prime, or rather sole,
minister for Scotland. The natural indolence of the king disposed him
to place entire confidence in a man who had so far extended the
royal prerogative, and who was still disposed to render it absolutely
uncontrollable.
In a subsequent session of the same parliament,[*] a severe law was
enacted against conventicles.
* July 28, 1670.
Ruinous fines were imposed both on the preachers and hearers, even if
the meetings had been in houses; but field conventicles were subjected
to the penalty of death and confiscation of goods: four hundred marks
Scotch were offered as a reward to those who should seize the criminals;
and they were indemnified for any slaughter which they might commit in
the execution of such an undertaking. And as it was found difficult
to get evidence against these conventicles, however numerous, it was
enacted by another law, that whoever, being required by the council,
refused to give information upon oath, should be punished by arbitrary
fines, by imprisonment, or by banishment to the plantations; Thus all
persecution naturally, or rather necessarily, adopts the iniquities,
as well as rigors, of the inquisition. What a considerable part of the
society consider as their duty and honor, and even many of the opposite
party are apt to regard with compassion and indulgence, can by no
other expedient be subjected to such severe penalties as the natural
sentiments of mankind appropriate only to the greatest crimes.
Though Lauderdale found this ready compliance in the parliament, a
party was formed against him, of which Duke Hamilton was the head. This
nobleman, with Tweddale and others, went to London, and applied to
the king, who, during the present depression and insignificance of
parliament, was alone able to correct the abuses of Lauderdale’s
administration. But even their complaints to him might be dangerous; and
all approaches of truth to the throne were barred by the ridiculous law
against leasing-making; a law which seems to have been extorted by the
ancient nobles, in order to protect their own tyranny, oppression,
and injustice. Great precautions, therefore, were used by the Scottish
malecontents in their representations to the king; but no redress was
obtained. Charles loaded them with caresses, and continued Lauderdale in
his authority.
A very bad, at least a severe use was made of this authority. The privy
council dispossessed twelve gentlemen or noblemen of their houses;[*]
which were converted into so many garrisons, established for the
suppression of conventicles. The nation, it was pretended, was really,
on account of these religious assemblies, in a state of war; and by the
ancient law, the king, in such an emergence, was empowered to place a
garrison in any house where he should judge it expedient.
* In 1675.
It were endless to recount every act of violence and arbitrary authority
exercised during Lauderdale’s administration.
All the lawyers were put from the bar, nay, banished by the King’s order
twelve miles from the capital, and by that means the whole justice of
the kingdom was suspended for a year; till these lawyers were brought
to declare it as their opinion, that all appeals to parliament were
illegal. A letter was procured from the king, for expelling twelve of
the chief magistrates of Edinburgh, and declaring them incapable of all
public office; though their only crime had been their want of compliance
with Lauderdale. The boroughs of Scotland have a privilege of meeting
once a year by their deputies, in order to consider the state of trade,
and make by-laws for its regulation: in this convention a petition was
voted, complaining of some late acts which obstructed commerce; and
praying the king, that he would empower his commissioner, in the next
session of parliament, to give his assent for repealing them. For this
presumption, as it was called, several of the members were fined and
imprisoned. One More, a member of parliament, having moved in the house,
that, in imitation of the English parliament, no bill should pass except
after three readings, he was, for this pretended offence, immediately
sent to prison by the commissioner.
The private deportment of Lauderdale was as insolent and provoking as
his public administration was violent and tyrannical. Justice, likewise,
was universally perverted by faction and interest: and from the great
rapacity of that duke, and still more of his duchess, all offices and
favors were openly put to sale. No one was allowed to approach the
throne who was not dependent on him; and no remedy could be hoped for
or obtained against his manifold oppressions. The case of Mitchel shows,
that this minister was as much destitute of truth and honor as of lenity
and justice.
Mitchel was a desperate fanatic, and had entertained a resolution of
assassinating Sharpe, archbishop of St. Andrews, who, by his former
apostasy and subsequent rigor, had rendered himself extremely odious
to the Covenanters. In the year 1668, Mitchel fired a pistol at the
primate, as he was sitting in his coach; but the bishop of Orkney,
stepping into the coach, happened to stretch out his arm, which
intercepted the ball, and was much shattered by it. This happened in the
principal street of the city; but so generally was the archbishop hated,
that the assassin was allowed peaceably to walk off; and having turned a
street or two, and thrown off a wig which disguised him, he immediately
appeared in public, and remained altogether unsuspected. Some years
after, Sharpe remarked one who seemed to eye him very eagerly; and being
still anxious lest an attempt of assassination should be renewed, he
ordered the man to be seized and examined. Two loaded pistols were found
upon him; and as he was now concluded to be the author of the former
attempt, Sharpe promised that if he would confess his guilt, he should
be dismissed without any punishment. Mitchel (for the conjecture was
just) was so credulous as to believe him; but was immediately produced
before the council by the faithless primate. The council, having no
proof against him, but hoping to involve the whole body of Covenanters
in this odious crime, solemnly renewed the promise of pardon, if he
would make a full discovery; and it was a great disappointment to them,
when they found, upon his confession, that only one person, who was
now dead, had been acquainted with his bloody purpose. Mitchel was
then carried before a court of judicature, and required to renew his
confession; but being apprehensive, lest, though a pardon for life had
been promised him, other corporal punishment might still be inflicted,
he refused compliance; and was sent back to prison. He was next examined
before the council, under pretence of his being concerned in the
insurrection at Pentland; and though no proof appeared against him, he
was put to the question, and, contrary to the most obvious principles
of equity, was urged to accuse himself. He endured the torture with
singular resolution, and continued obstinate in the denial of a crime,
of which, it is believed, he really was not guilty. Instead of obtaining
his liberty, he was sent to the Bass, a very high rock surrounded by the
sea; at this time converted into a state prison, and full of the unhappy
Covenanters, He there remained in great misery, loaded with irons, till
the year 1677, when it was resolved, by some new examples, to strike
a fresh terror into the persecuted but still obstinate enthusiasts.
Mitchel was then brought before a court of judicature, and put upon
his trial for an attempt to assassinate an archbishop and a privy
counsellor. His former confession was pleaded against him, and was
proved by the testimony of the duke of Lauderdale, lord commissioner,
Lord Hatton his brother, the earl of Rothes, and the primate himself.
Mitchel, besides maintaining that the privy council was no court of
judicature, and that a confession before them was not judicial, asserted
that he had been engaged to make that confession by a solemn promise
of pardon. The four privy counsellors denied upon with that any such
promise had ever been given. The prisoner then desired that the council
books might be produced in court, and even offered a copy of that day’s
proceedings to be read; but the privy counsellors maintained, that,
after they had made oath, no further proof could be admitted, and that
the books of council contained the king’s secrets, which were on no
account to be divulged. They were not probably aware, when they swore,
that the clerk having engrossed the promise of pardon in the narrative
of Mitchel’s confession, the whole minute had been signed by the
chancellor, and that the proofs of their perjury were by that means
committed to record. Though the prisoner was condemned, Lauderdale was
still inclined to pardon him; but the unrelenting primate rigorously
insisted upon his execution, and said, that if assassins remained
unpunished, his life must be exposed to perpetual danger. Mitchel was
accordingly executed at Edinburgh, in January, 1678. Such a complication
of cruelty and treachery shows the character of those ministers to whom
the king at this time intrusted the government of Scotland.
Lauderdale’s administration, besides the iniquities arising from the
violence of his temper, and the still greater iniquities inseparable
from all projects of persecution, was attended with other circumstances
which engaged him in severe and arbitrary measures. An absolute
government was to be introduced, which on its commencement is often most
rigorous; and tyranny was still obliged, for want of military power, to
cover itself under an appearance of law; a situation which rendered it
extremely awkward in its motions, and, by provoking opposition, extended
the violence of its oppressions.
The rigors exercised against conventicles, instead of breaking the
spirit of the fanatics, had tended only, as is usual, to render them
more obstinate, to increase the fervor of then zeal, to link them more
closely together, and to inflame them against the established hierarchy.
The commonalty, almost every where in the south, particularly in the
western counties frequented conventicles without reserve; and the gentry
though they themselves commonly abstained from these illegal places of
worship, connived at this irregularity in their inferiors. In order to
interest the former on the side of the persecutors, a bond or contract
was, by order of the privy council, tendered to the landlords in the
west, by which they were to engage for the good behavior of their
tenants; and in case any tenant frequented a conventicle, the landlord
was to subject himself to the same fine as could by law be exacted from
the delinquent. It was ridiculous to give sanction to laws by voluntary
contracts: it was iniquitous to make one man answerable for the conduct
of another: it was illegal to impose such hard conditions upon men who
had nowise offended. For these reasons, the greater part of the gentry
refused to sign these bonds; and Lauderdale, enraged at this opposition,
endeavored to break their spirit by expedients which were still more
unusual and more arbitrary.
The law enacted against conventicles had called them seminaries
of rebellion. This expression, which was nothing but a flourish of
rhetoric, Lauderdale and the privy council were willing to understand
in a literal sense; and because the western counties abounded in
conventicles, though otherwise in profound peace, they pretended that
these counties were in a state of actual war and rebellion. They made
therefore an agreement with some highland chieftains to call out their
clans, to the number of eight thousand men: to these they joined the
guards, and the militia of Angus; and they sent the whole to live at
free quarters upon the lands of such as had refused the bonds illegally
required of them. The obnoxious counties were the most populous and
most industrious in Scotland. The Highlanders were the people the most
disorderly and the least civilized. It is easy to imagine the havoc and
destruction which ensued. A multitude, not accustomed to discipline,
averse to the restraint of laws, trained up in rapine and violence, were
let loose amidst those whom they were taught to regard as enemies to
their prince and to their religion. Nothing escaped their ravenous
hands: by menaces, by violence, and sometimes by tortures, men were
obliged to discover their concealed wealth. Neither age, nor sex, nor
innocence afforded protection; and the gentry, finding that even those
who had been most compliant, and who had subscribed the bonds,
were equally exposed to the rapacity of those barbarians, confirmed
themselves still more in the resolution of refusing them. The voice
of the nation was raised against this enormous outrage; and after two
months’ free quarter, the highlanders were sent back to their hills,
loaded with the spoils and execrations of the west.
Those who had been engaged to subscribe the bonds, could find no
security but by turning out such tenants as they suspected of an
inclination to conventicles, and thereby depopulating their estates. To
increase the misery of these unhappy farmers, the council enacted, that
none should be received any where, or allowed a habitation, who brought
not a certificate of his conformity from the parish minister. That the
obstinate and refractory might not escape further persecution, a new
device was fallen upon. By the law of Scotland, any man who should go
before a magistrate, and swear that he thought himself in danger from
another, might obtain a writ of law-burrows, as it is called; by which
the latter was bound, under the penalty of imprisonment and outlawry, to
find security for his good behavior. Lauderdale entertained the absurd
notion of making the king sue out writs of law-burrows against his
subjects. On this pretence, the refusers of the bonds were summoned to
appear before the council, and were required to bind themselves,
under the penalty of two years’ rent, neither to frequent conventicles
themselves, nor allow their family and tenants to be present at those
unlawful assemblies. Thus chicanery was joined to tyranny; and
the majesty of the king, instead of being exalted, was in reality
prostituted; as if he were obliged to seek the same security which one
neighbor might require of another.
It was an old law, but seldom executed, that a man who was accused of
any crime, and did not appear in order to stand his trial, might be
intercommuned, that is, he might be publicly outlawed; and whoever
afterwards, either on account of business, relation, nay, charity, had
the least intercourse with him, was subjected to the same penalties
as could by law be inflicted on the criminal himself. Several writs
of intercommuning were now issued against the hearers and preachers in
conventicles; and by this severe and even absurd law, crimes and guilt
went on multiplying in a geometrical proportion. Where laws themselves
are so violent, it is no wonder that an administration should be
tyrannical.
Lest the cry of an oppressed people should reach the throne, the council
forbade, under severe penalties, all noblemen or gentlemen of landed
property to leave the kingdom, a severe edict, especially where the
sovereign himself resided in a foreign country. Notwithstanding this act
of council, Cassilis first, afterwards Hamilton and Tweddale, went
to London, and laid their complaints before the king. These violent
proceedings of Lauderdale were opposite to the natural temper of Charles
and he immediately issued orders for discontinuing the bonds and the
writs of law-burrows. But as he was commonly little touched with what
lay at a distance, he entertained not the proper indignation against
those who had abused his authority: even while he retracted these
oppressive measures, he was prevailed with to avow and praise them in
a letter which he wrote to the privy council. This proof of confidence
might fortify the hands of the ministry; but the king ran a manifest
risk of losing the affections of his subjects, by not permitting even
those who were desirous of it to distinguish between him and their
oppressors.
It is reported[*] that Charles, after a full hearing of the debates
concerning Scottish affairs, said, “I perceive that Lauderdale has been
guilty of many bad things against the people of Scotland; but I cannot
find that he has acted any thing contrary to my interest;” a sentiment
unworthy of a sovereign.
* Burnet.
During the absence of Hamilton and the other discontented lords, the
king allowed Lauderdale to summon a convention of estates at Edinburgh.
This assembly, besides granting some money, bestowed applause on
all Lauderdale’s administration, and in their addresses to the king,
expressed the highest contentment and satisfaction. But these instances
of complaisance had the contrary effect in England from what was
expected by the contrivers of them. All men there concluded, that in
Scotland the very voice of liberty was totally suppressed; and that,
by the prevalence of tyranny, grievances were so rivetted, that it was
become dangerous even to mention them, or complain to the prince, who
alone was able to redress them. From the slavery of the neighboring
kingdom, they inferred the arbitrary disposition of the king; and
from the violence with which sovereign power was there exercised, they
apprehended the miseries which might ensue to themselves upon their loss
of liberty. If persecution, it was asked, by a Protestant church could
be carried to such extremes, what might be dreaded from the prevalence
of Popery, which had ever, in all ages, made open profession of
exterminating by fire and sword every opposite sect or communion? And if
the first approaches towards unlimited authority were so tyrannical, how
dismal its final establishment; when all dread of opposition should at
last be removed by mercenary armies, and all sense of shame by long and
inveterate habit!