LAST YEARS IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
Marvell's last ten years in the House of Commons were made miserable by
the passionate conviction that there existed in high quarters of the
State a deep, dangerous, and well-considered plot to subvert the
Protestant faith and to destroy by armed force Parliamentary Government
in England. Marvell was not the victim of a delusion. Such a plot, plan,
or purpose undoubtedly existed, though, as it failed, it is now easy to
consider the alarm it created to have been exaggerated.
Marvell was, of all public men then living, the one most deeply imbued
with the spirit of our free constitution. Its checks and balances jumped
with his humour. His nature was without any taint of fanaticism, nor was
he anything of the doctrinaire. He was neither a Richard Baxter nor a
John Locke. He had none of the pure Erastianism of Selden, who tells us
in his inimitable, cold-blooded way that "a King is a King men have made
for their own sakes, for quietness' sake." "Just as in a family one man
is appointed to buy the meat," and that "there is no such thing as
spiritual jurisdiction; all is civil, the Church's is the same with the
Lord Mayor's. The Pope he challenges jurisdiction over all; the Bishops
they pretend to it as well as he; the Presbyterians they would have it
to themselves, but over whom is all this, the poor layman" (see Selden's
_Table Talk_).
This may be excellent good sense but it does not represent Marvell's
way of looking at things. He thought more nobly of both church and king.
In Marvell's last book, his famous pamphlet "_An Account of the Growth
of Popery and Arbitrary Government in England," printed at Amsterdam and
recommended to the reading of all English Protestants_, 1678, which made
a prodigious stir and (it is sad to think) paved the way for the "Popish
Plot," Marvell sets forth his view of our constitution in language as
lofty as it is precise. I know no passage in any of our institutional
writers of equal merit.
"For if first we consider the State, the kings of England rule not
upon the same terms with those of our neighbour nations, who, having
by force or by address usurped that due share which their people had
in the government, are now for some ages in the possession of an
arbitrary power (which yet no prescription can make legal) and
exercise it over their persons and estates in a most tyrannical
manner. But here the subjects retain their proportion in the
Legislature; the very meanest commoner of England is represented in
Parliament, and is a party to those laws by which the Prince is sworn
to govern himself and his people. No money is to be levied but by the
common consent. No man is for life, limb, goods, or liberty, at the
Sovereign's discretion: but we have the same right (modestly
understood) in our propriety that the prince hath in his regality:
and in all cases where the King is concerned, we have our just remedy
as against any private person of the neighbourhood, in the Courts of
Westminster Hall or in the High Court of Parliament. His very
Prerogative is no more than what the Law has determined. His Broad
Seal, which is the legitimate stamp of his pleasure, yet is no longer
currant, than upon the trial it is found to be legal. He cannot
commit any person by his particular warrant. He cannot himself be
witness in any cause: the balance of publick justice being so
delicate, that not the hand only but even the breath of the Prince
would turn the scale. Nothing is left to the King's will, but all is
subjected to his authority: by which means it follows that he can do
no wrong, nor can he receive wrong; and a King of England keeping to
these measures, may without arrogance, be said to remain the onely
intelligent Ruler over a rational People. In recompense therefore and
acknowledgment of so good a Government under his influence, his
person is most sacred and inviolable; and whatsoever excesses are
committed against so high a trust, nothing of them is imputed to him,
as being free from the necessity or temptation; but his ministers
only are accountable for all, and must answer it at their perils. He
hath a vast revenue constantly arising from the hearth of the
Householder, the sweat of the Labourer, the rent of the Farmer, the
industry of the Merchant, and consequently out of the estate of the
Gentleman: a large competence to defray the ordinary expense of the
Crown, and maintain its lustre. And if any extraordinary occasion
happen, or be but with any probable decency pretended, the whole Land
at whatsoever season of the year does yield him a plentiful harvest.
So forward are his people's affections to give even to superfluity,
that a forainer (or Englishman that hath been long abroad) would
think they could neither will nor chuse, but that the asking of a
supply were a meer formality, it is so readily granted. He is the
fountain of all honours, and has moreover the distribution of so many
profitable offices of the Household, of the Revenue, of State, of
Law, of Religion, of the Navy and (since his present Majestie's time)
of the Army, that it seems as if the Nation could scarce furnish
honest men enow to supply all those imployments. So that the Kings of
England are in nothing inferiour to other Princes, save in being more
abridged from injuring their own subjects: but have as large a field
as any of external felicity, wherein to exercise their own virtue,
and so reward and incourage it in others. In short, there is nothing
that comes nearer in Government to the Divine Perfection, than where
the Monarch, as with us, injoys a capacity of doing all the good
imaginable to mankind, under a disability to all that is
evil."[181:1]
This was the constitution which Marvell, whose means of information
were great and whose curiosity was insatiable, believed to be in danger.
No wonder he was agitated.
The politics in which Marvell was immersed during his last years are
difficult to unravel and still more difficult to illuminate, for they
had their dim origin in the secret thoughts and wavering purposes of the
king.
Charles the Second, like many another Englishman guiltless of Stuart
blood in his veins, was mainly governed by his dislikes, his pleasures,
and his financial necessities. To suppose, as some hasty moralisers have
done, that Charles cared for nothing but his women is to misread his
character. He had many qualifications to be the chief magistrate of a
nation of shopkeepers. He was ever alive to the supreme importance of
English trade upon the high seas. His thoughts were often turned in the
direction of the Indies, east and west. He took a constant, though not
always an honest, interest in the navy. He hated Holland for more
reasons than one, but among these reasons was his hatred of England's
most formidable and malicious trade competitor. He also disliked her
arid and ugly Protestantism, and blood being thicker than water, he
hated Holland for what he considered her shabby treatment of his
youthful nephew, whose ultimate destiny was happily hidden from
Whitehall. Among Charles's many dislikes must be included the Anglican
bishops, who had prevented him from keeping his word, and foiled his
purpose of a wide toleration. He envied his brother of France the wide
culture, the literature and art of Catholicism. He regretted the
Reformation, and would have been best pleased to see the English Church
in communion with Rome and in possession of "Anglican liberties" akin
to those enjoyed by the Gallican Church. Charles was also jealous of
Louis the Fourteenth, and in many moods had no mind to play perpetually
a second fiddle. He longed for a navy to sweep the seas, for an army
strong enough to keep his Parliament in check, and for liberty for
himself and for all those of his subjects who were so minded, to hear
Mass on Sundays. Behind, and above, and always surrounding these desires
and dislikes, was an ever-present, ever-pressing need for money. Like a
royal Becky Sharp, Charles might have found it easy to be a patriotic
king on five millions a year.
The king was his own Foreign Minister, and being what he was, and swayed
by the considerations I have imperfectly described, his foreign policy
was necessarily tortuous and perplexing. As Ranke says, "Charles was
capable of proposing offensive alliances to the three neighbouring
powers, to the Dutch against France, to the French against Spain and
Holland, to the Spaniards against France to the detriment of Holland,
but in these propositions two fundamental views always recur--demands
for money, and assurance of world-wide commerce for England."[183:1]
Charles first allowed Sir William Temple, a cool, prudent man, to form,
in a famous five days' negotiation, the defensive treaty with Holland,
which, after Sweden had joined it, became known as the Triple Alliance
(1668). This alliance had for its objects mutual promises between the
contracting parties to come to each other's assistance by sea and land
if attacked by any power (France being here intended), to force Spain to
make peace with France on the terms already offered, and to compel
France to keep those terms when agreed to by Spain.
The Triple Alliance was not only very popular in England, but was good
diplomacy, for it was quite within the range of practical politics that
France and Holland might have combined against England; nor could it
easily be maintained that the alliance was hostile to France, as it
provided that Spain should be forced to accept the terms France had
already proposed.
What wrecked the Triple Alliance and prepared the way for the secret
Treaty of Dover (1670), was the impossibility of settling those
religious difficulties which, despite the Act of Uniformity, were more
rampant than ever. The king wanted to patch up peace, and to secure some
working plan of comprehension or composure, under cover of which the
Catholic religion should be tolerated and Presbyterianism formally
recognised. But, king though he was, he could not get his way. The
Church and the House of Commons, full as the latter was of his pimps and
pensioners, were as obstinate as mules in this matter of toleration.
They would neither favour Papists nor Dissenters, protested against
Indulgences as unconstitutional, and clamoured for a rigorous
administration of that penal legislation against Nonconformists which
they had purchased with so many and such lavish supplies. As a matter of
fact, these penal laws were very fitfully enforced. In London they were
often totally disregarded, and we read of congregations numbering two
thousand openly attending Presbyterian services. The Lord Mayor for the
time being took his orders direct from the king.
What was Charles to do? After the fall of Clarendon, the king's
favourite privy councillors, called the "Cabal," because the initial
letters of their names formed a word which for some time previously had
been in common use, represent only too faithfully the confusion and
corruption of the times. Clifford was a zealous Roman, Arlington a
cautious one, Buckingham a free-thinker and mocker, friendly to France
and on good terms with the more advanced English sectaries; Ashley made
no pretence to be a Christian, but favoured philosophic toleration;
whilst Lauderdale, one of the most learned ministers that ever sat in
council (so Ranke says[185:1]), was, as a matter of profession, a
Presbyterian, but in reality a man wholly and slavishly devoted to the
king's interests, and prepared at any moment to pour into the kingdom
soldiers from Scotland to purge or suppress all Free Institutions.
Irritated, disgusted, thwarted, and annoyed, the king, acting, it well
may be, under the influence of his accomplished sister, the beautiful
and ill-fated Duchess of Orleans, struck up, to use Marvell's own words,
"an invisible league with France." The negotiations were either by word
of mouth or by letters which have been burnt. Dr. Lingard in his history
gives an interesting account of this mysterious transaction. Two things
are apparent as the objects of the Treaty of Dover. The Dutch Republic
is to be destroyed, and the cause of Catholicism in England is to be
promoted and maintained. It was this latter object that seems most to
have excited the hopes of the Duchess of Orleans. A woman's hand is
traceable throughout. Charles promised to profess himself openly a Roman
Catholic at the time that should appear to be most expedient, and
subsequently to that profession he was to join with Louis in making war
upon the Dutch Republic. At the date of this bewildering agreement, it
was high treason by statute even to _say_ that Charles was a Roman
Catholic. In case the king's public conversion should lead to
disturbances, Louis promised an "aid" of two millions of _livres_ and an
armed force of six thousand men. He also agreed to pay the whole cost of
the Dutch War _on land_, and to contribute thirty men-of-war to the
English fleet. Holland once crushed, England's share of the plunder was
to be Walcheren, Sluys, and Cadsand. A remarkable conversion! It is
difficult to suppose that either Charles or Louis were quite serious
over this part of the business. Yet there it is. The Catholic provisions
of the secret Treaty of Dover were only known to Clifford, whose soul
was fired by them, and to Arlington, who did not share the confident
hopes of his co-religionist. Clifford thought there were thousands of
Englishmen "of light and leading" among the English Catholics who would
be both willing and able to assume the burdens of the State and to rally
round a Catholic king. Arlington thought otherwise.
The king's public conversion never took place. No hint was given of any
such impending event. Parliament met on the 24th of October 1670, and
after hearing a good deal about the Triple Alliance and voting large
sums of money, was prorogued in April 1671, and did not meet again till
February 1673.
To pick a quarrel with the Dutch was never difficult. Marvell tells us
how it was done. "A sorry yacht, but bearing the English Jack, in August
1671 sails into the midst of the Dutch fleet, singles out the Admiral,
shooting twice as they call it, sharp upon him. Which must sure have
appeared as ridiculous and unnatural as for a lark to dare the hobby."
The Dutch admiral asking "Why," was told "because he and his whole fleet
had failed to strike sail to his small craft." The Dutch commander then
"civilly excused it as a matter of the first instance, and in which he
could have no instruction, therefore proper to be referred to their
masters, and so they parted. The yacht having thus acquitted itself,
returned fraught with the quarrel she was sent for."[187:1] Surinam was
a perpetual _casus belli_. Some offence against the law of nations was
always happening there. A third matter, very full of gunpowder, was made
great use of by the promoters of the war already agreed upon. A picture
had been hung at Dort representing De Witt sailing up the Medway very
much in the manner described in Marvell's poem. Medals also had been
struck and distributed in commemoration of the same event. War was
declared against Holland by England and France in March 1672. The
Declaration of War was preceded by the Declaration of Indulgence,
whereby, wrote Marvell, "all the penal laws against Papists for which
former Parliaments had given so many supplies, and against
Nonconformists for which this Parliament had paid more largely, were at
one instant suspended in order to defraud the nation of all that
religion which they had so dearly purchased, and for which they ought at
least, the bargain being broke, to have been reimbursed."[187:2]
The unconstitutional suspension of bad laws put lovers of freedom in a
predicament. Marvell was what he calls a "composure," that is a
"comprehension," man. In the _Growth of Popery_ he sorrowfully admits
that it is the gravest reproach of human wisdom that no man seems able
or willing to find out the due temper of Government in divine matters.
"Insomuch that it is no great adventure to say, that the world was
better ordered under the ancient monarchies and commonwealths, that
the number of virtuous men was then greater, and that the Christians
found fairer quarter under those than among themselves, nor hath
there any advantage accrued unto mankind from that most perfect and
practical model of humane society, except the speculation of a better
way to future happiness, concerning which the very guides disagree,
and of those few that follow, it will suffer no man to pass without
paying at their turnpikes." (Vol. iv. p. 280.)
The French Alliance made the war, though with Holland, unpopular.
Writers had to be hired to defend it. France was supposed to look on
with much composure as her two maritime competitors battered each
other's fleets. At sea the honours were divided between the Dutch and
the English. On land Louis had it all his own way. Besides, rumours got
abroad of an uncomfortable plot to restore Popery. Jesuits seemed to
abound. Roman Catholics asserted themselves, the laws being suspended.
An army was collected at Blackheath. The Treasury was closed. Charles
had been badly bled by the goldsmiths or bankers, who had charged him
L12 per cent.; but in commercial centres Acts of Bankruptcy are seldom
popular, and though the bankers were compelled to be content with L6 per
cent., the closing of the Treasury brought ruin into many homes.
When Parliament met in February 1673, its temper was bad. It would have
nothing to do with the Declaration of Indulgence, and though the king
had told them, in the round set terms he could so well command, that he
was resolved to stick to his declaration, he had to give way and to see
the House busy itself with a Test Bill that drove all Roman Catholics,
from the Duke of York (who had "gone over" in the spring of 1672)
downwards, out of office. The only effect of Charles's policy was to
mitigate the hostility of the House of Commons to Protestant Dissenters,
and to drive it to concentrate its jealousy upon the Catholics. Any
lurking idea of the king declaring himself a Romanist had to be
abandoned. His hatred of Parliament increased. He lost all sense of
shame, and frankly became a pensioner of France. In 1676 he concluded a
second secret treaty, whereby both Louis and himself bound themselves to
enter into no engagements with other powers without consent, and in case
of rebellion within their realms to come to each other's assistance.
Louis agreed to make Charles an annual allowance of a hundred thousand,
afterwards increased to two hundred thousand _livres_. This money was
largely spent in bribing the House of Commons. The French ambassador was
allowed an extra grant of a thousand crowns a month to keep a table for
hungry legislators.[189:1] Did not Marvell do well to be angry?
Some of Marvell's letters belonging to this gloomy period are full of
interest.
_To William Ramsden, Esq._
"_Nov. 28, 1670._
"DEAR WILL,--I need not tell you I am always thinking of you. All
that has happened, which is remarkable, since I wrote, is as
follows: The Lieutenancy of London, chiefly Sterlin the Mayor, and
Sir J. Robinson, alarmed the King continually with the Conventicles
there. So the King sent them strict and large powers. The Duke of
York every Sunday would come over thence to look to the peace. To
say truth, they met in numerous open assemblys, without any dread of
government. But the train bands in the city, and soldiery in
Southwark and suburbs, harassed and abused them continually; they
wounded many, and killed some Quakers especially, while they took
all patiently. Hence arose two things of great remark. The
Lieutenancy, having got orders to their mind, pick out Hays and
Jekill, the innocentist of the whole party, to show their power on.
They offer them illegal bonds of five thousand pounds a man, which
if they would not enter into, they must go to prison. So they were
committed, and at last (but it is a very long story) got free. Some
friends engaged for them. The other was the tryal of Pen and Mead,
quakers, at the Old Baily. The jury not finding them guilty, as the
Recorder and Mayor would have had them, they were kept without meat
or drink some three days, till almost starved, but would not alter
their verdict; so fined and imprisoned. There is a book out which
relates all the passages, which were very pertinent, of the
prisoners, but prodigiously barbarous by the Mayor and Recorder. The
Recorder, among the rest, commended the Spanish Inquisition, saying
it would never be well till we had something like it. The King had
occasion for sixty thousand pounds. Sent to borrow it of the city.
Sterlin, Robinson, and all the rest of that faction, were at it many
a week, and could not get above ten thousand. The fanatics under
persecution, served his Majesty. The other party, both in court and
city, would have prevented it. But the King protested mony would be
acceptable. So the King patched up, out of the Chamber, and other
ways, twenty thousand pounds. The fanatics, of all sorts, forty
thousand. The King, though against many of his council, would have
the Parliament sit this twenty-fourth of October. He, and the Keeper
spoke of nothing but to have mony. Some one million three hundred
thousand pounds, to pay off the debts at interest; and eight hundred
thousand for a brave navy next Spring. Both speeches forbid to be
printed, for the King said very little, and the Keeper, it was
thought, too much in his politic simple discourse of foreign
affairs. The House was thin and obsequious. They voted at first they
would supply him according to his occasions, _Nemine_, as it was
remarked, _contradicente_; but few affirmatives, rather a silence as
of men ashamed and unwilling. Sir R. Howard, Seymour, Temple, Car,
and Hollis, openly took leave of their former party, and fell to
head the King's busyness. There is like to be a terrible Act of
Conventicles. The Prince of Orange here is much made of. The King
owes him a great deal of mony. The Paper is full.--I am yours," etc.
The trial of William Penn and William Mead at the Old Bailey for a
tumultuous assembly, written by themselves, may be read in the _State
Trials_, vol. vi. The trial was the occasion of Penn's famous remark to
the Recorder of London, who, driven wellnigh distracted by Penn's
dialectics, exclaimed, "If I should suffer you to ask questions till
to-morrow morning you would never be the wiser." "That," replied Penn,
"would be according as the answers are."
_To William Ramsden, Esq._
(Undated.)
"DEAR WILL,--The Parliament are still proceeding, but not much
advanced on their eight hundred thousand pounds Bill on money at
interest, offices, and lands; and the Excise Bills valued at four
hundred thousand pounds a year. The first for the navy, which scarce
will be set out. The last to be for paying one million three hundred
thousand pounds, which the King owes at interest, and perhaps may be
given for four, five, or six years, as the House chances to be in
humour. But an accident happened which liked to have spoiled all:
Sir John Coventry having moved for an imposition on the playhouses,
Sir John Berkenhead, to excuse them, sayed they had been of great
service to the King. Upon which Sir John Coventry desired that
gentleman to explain whether he meant the men or the women players.
Hereupon it is imagined, that, the House adjourning from Tuesday
before till Thursday after Christmas-day, on the very Tuesday night
of the adjournment, twenty-five of the Duke of Monmouth's troop, and
some few foot, layed in wait from ten at night till two in the
morning, by Suffolk-street, and as he returned from the Cock, where
he supped, to his own house, they threw him down, and with a knife
cut off almost the end of his nose; but company coming made them
fearful to finish it, so they marched off. Sir Thomas Sands,
lieutenant of the troop, commanded the party; and O'Brian, the Earl
of Inchequin's son, was a principal actor. The Court hereupon
sometimes thought to carry it with a high hand, and question Sir
John for his words, and maintain the action. Sometimes they flagged
in their counsels. However, the King commanded Sir Thomas Clarges,
and Sir W. Pultney, to release Wroth and Lake, who were two of the
actors, and taken. But the night before the House met they
surrendered them again. The House being but sullen the next day, the
Court did not oppose adjourning for some days longer till it was
filled. Then the House went upon Coventry's busyness, and voted that
they would go upon nothing else whatever till they had passed a
Bill, as they did, for Sands, O'Brian, Parry, and Reeves, to come in
by the sixteenth of February, or else be condemned, and never to be
pardoned, but by an express Act of Parliament, and their names
therein inserted, for fear of being pardoned in some general act of
grace. Farther of all such actions, for the future on any man,
felony, without clergy; and who shall otherwise strike or wound any
parliament-man, during his attendance, or going or coming,
imprisonment for a year, treble damages, and incapacity. This Bill
having in some few days been dispatched to the Lords, the House has
since gone on in grand Committee upon the first eight hundred
thousand pounds Bill, but are not yet half way. But now the Lords,
instead of the sixteenth of February, put twenty-five days after the
King's royal assent, and that registered in their journal; they
disagree in several other things, but adhere in that first, which is
most material. Adhere, in this place, signifies not to be retracted,
and excludes a free conference. So that this week the Houses will be
in danger of splitting, without much wisdom or force. For
considering that Sir Thomas Sands was the very person sent to
Clarges and Pultney, that O'Brian was concealed in the Duke of
Monmouth's lodgings, that Wroth and Lake were bayled at the sessions
by order from Mr. Attorney, and that all persons and things are
perfectly discovered, that act will not be passed without great
consequence. George's father obliges you much in Tangier. Prince
Edgar is dying. The Court is at the highest pitch of want and
luxury, and the people full of discontent, Remember me to
yourselves."
_To William Ramsden, Esq._
(Undated.)
"DEAR WILL,--I think I have not told you that, on our Bill of
Subsidy, the Lord Lucas made a fervent bold speech against our
prodigality in giving, and the weak looseness of the government, the
King being present; and the Lord Clare another to persuade the King
that he ought not to be present. But all this had little
encouragement, not being seconded. Copys going about everywhere, one
of them was brought into the Lords' House, and Lord Lucas was asked
whether it was his. He sayd part was, and part was not. Thereupon
they took advantage, and sayed it was a libel even against Lucas
himself. On this they voted it a libel, and to be burned by the
hangman. Which was done; but the sport was, the hangman burned the
Lords' order with it. I take the last quarrel betwixt us and the
Lords to be as the ashes of that speech. Doubtless you have heard,
before this time, how Monmouth, Albemarle, Dunbane, and seven or
eight gentlemen, fought with the watch, and killed a poor bedle.
They have all got their pardons, for Monmouth's sake; but it is an
act of great scandal. The King of France is at Dunkirke. We have no
fleet out, though we gave the Subsidy Bill, valued at eight hundred
thousand pounds, for that purpose. I believe, indeed, he will
attempt nothing on us, but leave us to dy a natural death. For
indeed never had poor nation so many complicated, mortal, incurable,
diseases. You know the Dutchess of York is dead. All gave her for a
Papist. I think it will be my lot to go on an honest fair employment
into Ireland. Some have smelt the court of Rome at that distance.
There I hope I shall be out of the smell of our.... --Yours," etc.
_To a Friend in Persia._
"_August 9, 1671._
"DEAR SIR,--I have yours of the 12th of October 1670, which was in
all respects most welcome to me, except when I considered that to
write it you endured some pain, for you say your hand is not yet
recovered. If I could say any thing to you towards the advancement
of your affairs, I could, with a better conscience, admit you should
spend so much of your precious time, as you do, upon me. But you
know how far those things are out of my road, tho', otherwise, most
desirous in all things to be serviceable to you. God's good
providence, which hath through so dangerous a disease and so many
difficultys preserved and restored you, will, I doubt not, conduct
you to a prosperous issue, and the perfection of your so laudable
undertakings. And, under that, your own good genius, in conjunction
with your brother here, will, I hope, though at the distance of
England and Persia, in good time operate extraordinary effects; for
the magnetism of two souls, rightly touched, works beyond all
natural limits, and it would be indeed too unequal, if good nature
should not have at least as large a sphere of activity, as malice,
envy, and detraction, which are, it seems, part of the returns from
Gombroon and Surat. All I can say to you in that matter is, that you
must, seeing it will not be better, stand upon your guard; for in
this world a good cause signifys little, unless it be as well
defended. A man may starve at the feast of good conscience. My
fencing master in Spain, after he had instructed me all he could,
told me, I remember, there was yet one secret, against which there
was no defence, and that was, to give the first blow. I know your
maxim, _Qui festinat ditescere, non erit innocens_. Indeed while you
preserve that mind, you will have the blessing both of God and man.
In general I perceive, and am very glad of it, that by your good
management, your friends here get ground, and the flint in your
adversarys' hearts begins to be mollifyed. Now after my usual
method, leaving to others what relates to busyness, I address
myself, which is all I am good for, to be your gazettier. I am sorry
to perceive that mine by the Armenian miscarryed. Tho' there was
nothing material in it, the thoughts of friends are too valuable to
fall into the hands of a stranger. I wrote the last February at
large, and wish it a better passage. In this perhaps I may interfere
something with that, chusing rather to repeat than omit. The King
having, upon pretence of the great preparations of his neighbours,
demanded three hundred thousand pounds for his navy (though in
conclusion he hath not set out any) and that the Parliament should
pay his debts, which the ministers would never particularize to the
House of Commons, our House gave several bills. You see how far
things were stretched, though beyond reason, there being no
satisfaction how those debts were contracted, and all men foreseeing
that what was given would not be applyed to discharge the debts,
which I hear are at this day risen to four millions, but diverted as
formerly. Nevertheless such was the number of the constant courtiers
increased by the apostate patriots, who were bought off, for that
turn, some at six, others ten, one at fifteen thousand pounds in
money, besides what offices, lands, and reversions, to others, that
it is a mercy they gave not away the whole land, and liberty, of
England. The Earl of Clare made a very bold and rational harangue,
the King being present, against the King's sitting among the Lords,
contrary to former precedents, during their debates; but he was not
seconded. The King had this April prorogued, upon the Houses
cavilling, and their harsh conferences concerning some bills, the
Parliament from this April till the 16th of April 1672. Sir John
Coventry's Bill against Cutting Noses passed, and O'Brian and Sir
Thomas Sands, not appearing at the Old Baily by the time limited,
stand attainted and outlawed, without possibility of pardon. The
Duke of Buckingham is again one hundred and forty thousand pounds in
debt, and, by this prorogation, his creditors have time to tear all
his lands in pieces. The House of Commons has run almost to the end
of their line, and are grown extreme chargeable to the King, and
odious to the people. Lord St. John, Marquess of Westminster's son,
one of the House of Commons, Sir Robert Howard, Sir John Benet, Lord
Arlington's brother, Sir William Bucknoll, the brewer, all of the
House, in fellowship with some others of the city, have farmed the
old customs, with the new act of Imposition upon Wines, and the Wine
Licenses, at six hundred thousand pounds a year, to begin this
Michaelmas. You may be sure they have covenants not to be losers.
They have signed and sealed ten thousand pounds a year more to the
Duchess of Cleveland, who has likewise near ten thousand pounds a
year out of the new farm of the country excise of Beer and Ale, five
thousand pounds a year out of the Post Office, and, they say, the
reversion of all the King's leases, the reversion of places all in
the Custom House, the green wax, and indeed, what not? All
promotions, spiritual and temporal, pass under her cognizance.
Buckingham runs out of all with the Lady Shrewsbury, by whom he
believes he had a son, to whom the King stood godfather; it dyed,
young Earl of Coventry, and was buryed in the sepulchre of his
fathers. The King of France made a warlike progresse this summer
through his conquests of Flanders, but kept the peace there, and
detains still the Dutchy of Lorain, and has stired up the German
Princes against the free towns. The Duke of Brunswick has taken the
town of Brunswick; and now the Bishop of Cullen is attacking the
city of Colen. We truckle to France in all things, to the prejudice
of our honour. Barclay is still Lieutenant of Ireland; but he was
forced to come over to pay ten thousand pounds rent to his Landlady
Cleveland. My Lord Angier, who bought of Sir George Carteret for
eleven thousand pounds, the Vice-treasurership of Ireland, worth
five thousand pounds a year, is, betwixt knavery and foolery, turned
out. Dutchess of York and Prince Edgar, dead. None left but
daughters. One Blud, outlawed for a plot to take Dublin Castle, and
who seized on the Duke of Ormond here last year, and might have
killed him, a most bold, and yet sober fellow, some months ago
seized the crown and sceptre in the Tower, took them away, and if he
had killed the keeper, might have carried them clear off. He, being
taken, astonished the King and Court, with the generosity, and
wisdom, of his answers. He, and all his accomplices, for his sake,
are discharged by the King, to the wonder of all.--Yours," etc.
_To William Ramsden, Esq._
"_June 1672._
"DEAR WILL,--Affairs begin to alter, and men talk of a peace with
Holland, and taking them into our protection; and it is my opinion
it will be before Michaelmas, for some reasons, not fit to write. We
cannot have a peace with France and Holland both. The Dutch are now
brought very low; but Amsterdam, and some other provinces, are
resolved to stand out till the last. De-wit is stabbed, and dead of
his wounds. It was at twelve a clock at night, the 11th of this
month, as he came from the council at the Hague. Four men wounded
him with their swords. But his own letter next morning to the States
says nothing appeared mortal. The whole Province of Utrecht is
yielding up. No man can conceive the condition of the State of
Holland, in this juncture, unless he can at the same time conceive
an earthquake, an hurricane, and the deluge. France is potent and
subtle. Here have been several fires of late. One at St.
Catherine's, which burned about six score or two hundred houses, and
some seven or eight ships. Another in Bishopsgate-street. Another in
Crichet Fryars. Another in Southwark; and some elsewhere. You may be
sure all the old talk is hereupon revived. There was the other day,
though not on this occasion, a severe proclamation issued out
against all who shall vent false news, or discourse ill concerning
affairs of state. So that in writing to you I run the risque of
making a breech in the commandment.--Yours," etc.
The following letter deals with another matter of human concern than
politics, for it seeks to condole with a father who has lost an only
son.
_To Sir John Trott_
(Undated.)
"HONOURED SIR,--I have not that vanity to believe, if you weigh your
late loss by the common ballance, that any thing I can write to you
should lighten your resentments: nor if you measure things by the
rules of christianity, do I think it needful to comfort you in your
duty and your son's happyness. Only having a great esteem and
affection for you, and the grateful memory of him that is departed
being still green and fresh upon my spirit, I cannot forbear to
inquire, how you have stood the second shock at your sad meeting of
friends in the country. I know that the very sight of those who have
been witnesses of our better fortune, doth but serve to reinforce a
calamity. I know the contagion of grief and infection of tears, and
especially when it runs in a blood. And I myself could sooner imitate
than blame those innocent relentings of nature, so that they spring
from tenderness only and humanity, not from an implacable sorrow. The
tears of a family may flow together like those little drops that
compact the rainbow, and if they be placed with the same advantage
towards Heaven as those are to the sun, they too have their
splendour; and like that bow, while they unbend into seasonable
showers, yet they promise, that there shall not be a second flood.
But the dissoluteness of grief, the prodigality of sorrow, is neither
to be indulged in a man's self, nor complyed with in others. If that
were allowable in these cases, Eli's was the readyest way and highest
compliment of mourning, who fell back from his seat and broke his
neck. But neither does that precedent hold. For though he had been
Chancellor, and in effect King of Israel, for so many years (and such
men value, as themselves, their losses at an higher rate than
others), yet, when he heard that Israel was overcome, that his two
sons Hophni and Phineas were slain in one day, and saw himself so
without hope of issue, and which imbittered it farther, without
succession to the government, yet he fell not till the news that the
ark of God was taken. I pray God that we may never have the same
parallel perfected in our publick concernments. Then we shall need
all the strength of grace and nature to support us. But on a private
loss, and sweetened with so many circumstances as yours, to be
impatient, to be uncomfortable would be to dispute with God. Though
an only son be inestimable, yet it is like Jonah's sin, to be angry
at God for the withering of his shadow. Zipporah, though the delay
had almost cost her husband his life, yet, when he did but circumcise
her son, in a womanish peevishness reproached Moses as a bloody
husband. But if God take the son himself, but spare the father, shall
we say that He is a bloody God? He that gave His own son, may He not
take ours? It is pride that makes a rebel; and nothing but the
over-weening of ourselves and our own things that raises us against
Divine Providence. Whereas Abraham's obedience was better than
sacrifice. And if God please to accept both, it is indeed a farther
tryal, but a greater honour. I could say over upon this beaten
occasion most of those lessons of morality and religion which have
been so often repeated, and are as soon forgotten. We abound with
precept, but we want examples. You, sir, that have all these things
in your memory, and the clearness of whose judgment is not to be
obscured by any greater interposition, should be exemplary to others
in your own practice. 'Tis true, it is an hard task to learn and
teach at the same time. And, where yourselves are the experiment, it
is as if a man should dissect his own body, and read the anatomy
lecture. But I will not heighten the difficulty while I advise the
attempt. Only, as in difficult things, you would do well to make use
of all that may strengthen and assist you; the word of God; the
society of good men; and the books of the ancients; there is one way
more, which is by diversion, business, and activity; which are also
necessary to be used in their season. But I myself, who live to so
little purpose, can have little authority or ability to advise you in
it, who are a person that are and may be much more so, generally
useful. All that I have been able to do since, hath been to write
this sorry Elogy of your son, which if it be as good as I could wish,
it is as yet no indecent employment. However, I know you will take
any thing kindly from your very affectionate friend, and most humble
servant."
Milton died on the 8th of November 1674. Marvell remained among the
poet's intimate friends until the end, and intended to write his life.
It is idle to mourn the loss of an unwritten book, but Marvell's life of
Milton would have been a treasure.[199:1]
When Parliament met on the 13th of April 1675, members found in their
places a mock-speech from the throne. They _knew_ the hand that had
penned it. It was a daring production and ran as follows:--
_His Majesty's Most Gracious Speech to Both Houses of Parliament_.
"MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,--I told you at our last meeting, the winter
was the fittest time for business, and truly I thought so, till my
Lord Treasurer assured me the spring was the best season for sallads
and subsidies. I hope therefore that April will not prove so
unnatural a month, as not to afford some kind showers on my parched
exchequer, which gapes for want of them. Some of you, perhaps, will
think it dangerous to make me too rich; but I do not fear it; for I
promise you faithfully, whatever you give me I will always want; and
although in other things my word may be thought a slender authority,
yet in that, you may rely on me, I will never break it.
"MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,--I can bear my straits with patience; but my
Lord Treasurer does protest to me, that the revenue, as it now
stands, will not serve him and me too. One of us must pinch for it,
if you do not help me. I must speak freely to you: I am under bad
circumstances, for besides my harlots in service, my reformado
concubines lye heavy upon me. I have a passable good estate, I
confess, but, God's-fish, I have a great charge upon 't. Here's my
Lord Treasurer can tell, that all the money designed for next
summer's guards must, of necessity, be applyed to the next year's
cradles and swadling-cloths. What shall we do for ships then? I hint
this only to you, it being your busyness, not mine. I know, by
experience, I can live without ships. I lived ten years abroad
without, and never had my health better in my life; but how you will
be without, I leave to yourselves to judge, and therefore hint this
only by the bye: I do not insist upon it. There's another thing I
must press more earnestly, and that is this:--It seems a good part of
my revenue will expire in two or three years, except you will be
pleased to continue it. I have to say for 't, pray, why did you give
me so much as you have done, unless you resolve to give on as fast as
I call for it? The nation hates you already for giving so much, and
I'll hate you too, if you do not give me more. So that if you stick
not to me, you must not have a friend in England. On the other hand,
if you will give me the revenue I desire, I shall be able to do those
things for your religion and liberty, that I have had long in my
thoughts, but cannot effect them without a little more money to carry
me through. Therefore look to 't and take notice that if you do not
make me rich enough to undo you, it shall lie at your doors. For my
part I wash my hands on 't. But that I may gain your good opinion,
the best way is to acquaint you what I have done to deserve it, out
of my royal care for your religion and your property. For the first,
my proclamation is a true picture of my mind, He that cannot, as in a
glass, see my zeal for the Church of England, does not deserve any
farther satisfaction, for I declare him wilful, abominable, and not
good. Some may, perhaps, be startled, and cry, how comes this sudden
change? To which I answer, I am a changling, and that's sufficient, I
think. But to convince men farther, that I mean what I say, there are
these arguments:--
"First, I tell you so, and you know I never break my word.
"Secondly, My Lord Treasurer says so, and he never told a lye in
his life.
"Thirdly, My Lord Lauderdale will undertake it for me; and I
should be loath, by any act of mine, he should forfeit the
credit he has with you.
"If you desire more instances of my zeal, I have them for you. For
example, I have converted my natural sons from Popery; and I may say,
without vanity, it was my own work, so much the more peculiarly mine
than the begetting them. 'Twould do one's heart good to hear how
prettily George can read already in the Psalter. They are all fine
children, God bless 'em, and so like me in their understandings. But,
as I was saying, I have, to please you, given a pension to your
favourite my Lord Lauderdale; not so much that I thought he wanted
it, as that you would take it kindly. I have made Carwell dutchess of
Portsmouth, and marryed her sister to the Earl of Pembroke. I have,
at my brother's request, sent my Lord Inchequin into Barbary, to
settle the Protestant Religion among the Moors, and an English
Interest at Tangier. I have made Crew Bishop of Durham, and, at the
first word of my Lady Portsmouth, Prideaux Bishop of Chichester. I
know not, for my part, what factious men would have; but this I am
sure of, my predecessors never did anything like this, to gain the
good will of their subjects. So much for your religion, and now for
your property. My behaviour to the Bankers is a publick instance; and
the proceedings between Mrs. Hyde and Mrs. Sutton for private ones,
are such convincing evidences, that it will be needless to say any
more to 't.
"I must now acquaint you, that, by my Lord Treasurer's advice, I have
made a considerable retrenchment upon my expenses in candles and
charcoal, and do not intend to stop there, but will, with your help,
look into the late embezzlements of my dripping-pans and
kitchen-stuff; of which, by the way, upon my conscience, neither my
Lord Treasurer nor my Lord Lauderdale are guilty. I tell you my
opinion; but if you should find them dabling in that busyness, I tell
you plainly, I leave 'em to you; for, I would have the world to know,
I am not a man to be cheated.
"My Lords and Gentlemen, I desire you to believe me as you have found
me; and I do solemnly promise you, that whatsoever you give me shall
be specially managed with the same conduct, trust, sincerity, and
prudence, that I have ever practised, since my happy
restoration."[202:1]
Mock King's Speeches have often been made, but this is the first, and I
think still the best of them all.
There was no shaking off religion from the debates of those days. A new
Oaths Bill suddenly appeared in the House of Lords, where it gave rise
to one of the greatest debates that assembly has ever witnessed,
lasting seventeen days. The bishops were baited by the peers with great
spirit, and the report of the proceedings may still be read with gusto.
Marvell, in his _Growth of Popery_, thus describes what happened:--
"While these things were upon the anvil, the 10th of November was
come for the Parliament's sitting, but that was put off till the 13th
of April 1675. And in the meantime, which fell out most opportune for
the conspirators, these counsels were matured, and something further
to be contrived, that was yet wanting; the Parliament accordingly
meeting, and the House of Lords, as well as that of the Commons,
being in deliberation of several wholesome bills, such as the present
state of the nation required, the great design came out in a bill
unexpectedly offered one morning in the House of Lords, whereby all
such as injoyed any beneficial office, or imployment, ecclesiastical,
civil, or military, to which was added privy counsellors, justices of
the peace, and members of Parliament, were under a penalty to take
the oath, and make the declaration, and abhorrence, insuring:--
'I A.B. do declare, that it is not lawful upon any pretence
whatsoever to take up arms against the King, and that I do
abhor that traiterous position of taking arms by his authority
against his person, or against those that are commissioned by
him in pursuance of such commission. And I do swear, that I
will not at any time indeavour the alteration of the government
either in Church or State. So help me God.'
"This same oath had been brought into the House of Commons in the
plague year at Oxford, to have been imposed upon the nation, but
there, by the assistance of those very same persons that now
introduce it, 'twas thrown out, for fear of a general infection of
the vitals of this kingdom; and though it passed then in a particular
bill, known by the name of the Five Mile Act, because it only
concerned the non-conformist preachers, yet even in that, it was
thoroughly opposed by the late Earl of Southampton, whose judgement
might well have been reckoned for the standard of prudence and
loyalty."[204:1]
Of the proposed oath Marvell says, "No Conveyancer could ever in more
compendious or binding terms have drawn a dissettlement of the whole
birthright of England."
This was no mere legal quibbling.
"These things are no niceties, or remote considerations (though in
making of laws, and which must come afterwards under construction of
judges, _durante bene placito_, all cases are to be put and imagined)
but there being an act in Scotland for 20,000 men to march into
England upon call, and so great a body of English soldiery in France,
within summons, besides what foreigners may be obliged by treaty to
furnish, and it being so fresh in memory, what sort of persons had
lately been in commission among us, to which add the many books then
printed by license, writ, some by men of the black, one of the green
cloth, wherein the absoluteness of the English monarchy is against
all law asserted.
"All these considerations put together were sufficient to make any
honest and well advised man to conceive indeed, that upon the passing
of this oath and declaration, the whole sum of affairs depended.
"It grew therefore to the greatest contest, that has perhaps ever
been in Parliament, wherein those Lords, that were against this oath,
being assured of their own loyalty and merit, stood up now for the
English liberties with the same genius, virtue, and courage, that
their noble ancestors had formerly defended the great Charter of
England, but with so much greater commendation, in that they had here
a fairer field and a more civil way of decision; they fought it out
under all the disadvantages imaginable; they were overlaid by
numbers; the noise of the House, like the wind, was against them, and
if not the sun, the fireside was always in their faces; nor being so
few, could they, as their adversaries, withdraw to refresh themselves
in a whole day's ingagement: yet never was there a clearer
demonstration how dull a thing is humane eloquence, and greatness
how little, when the bright truth discovers all things in their
proper colours and dimensions, and shining, shoots its beams thorow
all their fallacies. It might be injurious, where all of them did so
excellently well, to attribute more to any one of those Lords than
another, unless because the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of
Shaftesbury, have been the more reproached for this brave action, it
be requisite by a double proportion of praise to set them two on
equal terms with the rest of their companions in honour. The
particular relation in this debate, which lasted many days, with
great eagerness on both sides, and the reasons but on one, was in the
next Session burnt by order of the Lords, but the sparks of it will
eternally fly in their adversaries' faces."[205:1]
In a letter to his constituents, dated April 22, 1675, Marvell was
content to say: "The Lords sate the whole day yesterday till ten at
night without rising (and the King all the while but of our addresses
present) upon their Bill of Test in both houses and are not yet come to
the question of committing it."
After prolonged discussion the Oath Bill was sent to the Commons, where
doubtless it must have passed, had not a furious privilege quarrel over
Sir John Fagg's case made prorogation in June almost a necessity. In
October Parliament met again, and at once resolved itself into a
Committee upon Religion to prevent the growth of Popery. This time the
king made almost an end of the Parliament by a prorogation which lasted
from November 1675 until February 1677--a period of fifteen months.
On the re-assembling of Parliament the Duke of Buckingham fathered the
argument much used during the long recess, that a prorogation extending
beyond twelve months was in construction of law a dissolution.
For the expression of this opinion and the refusal to recant it the
Duke of Buckingham and three other lords were ordered to the Tower, the
king being greatly angered by the duke's request that his cook might be
allowed to wait on him. On this incident Marvell remarks: "Thus a
prorogation without precedent was to be warranted by an imprisonment
without example. A sad instance! Whereby the dignity of Parliament and
especially of the House of Peers did at present much suffer and may
probably more for the future, _for nothing but Parliament can destroy
Parliament_. If a House shall once be felon of itself and stop its own
breath, taking away that liberty of speech which the King verbally, and
of course, allows them (as now they had done in both houses) to what
purpose is it coming thither?"[206:1]
The character of this House of Commons did not improve with age.
Marvell writes in the _Growth of Popery_:--
"In matters of money they seem at first difficult, but having been
discoursed with in private, they are set right, and begin to
understand it better themselves, and to convert their brethren: for
they are all of them to be bought and sold, only their number makes
them cheaper, and each of them doth so overvalue himself, that
sometimes they outstand or let slip their own market.
"It is not to be imagined, how small things, in this case, even
members of great estates will stoop at, and most of them will do as
much for hopes as others for fruition, but if their patience be tired
out, they grow at last mutinous, and revolt to the country, till some
better occasion offer.
"Among these are some men of the best understanding were they of
equal integrity, who affect to ingross all business, to be able to
quash any good motion by parliamentary skill, unless themselves be
the authors, and to be the leading men of the House, and for their
natural lives to continue so. But these are men that have been once
fooled, most of them, and discovered, and slighted at Court, so that
till some turn of State shall let them in their adversaries' place,
in the mean time they look sullen, make big motions, and contrive
specious bills for the subject, yet only wait the opportunity to be
the instruments of the same counsels which they oppose in others.
"There is a third part still remaining, but as contrary in themselves
as light and darkness; those are either the worst, or the best of
men; the first are most profligate persons, they have neither
estates, consciences, nor good manners, yet are therefore picked out
as the necessary men, and whose votes will go furthest; the charges
of their elections are defrayed, whatever they amount to, tables are
kept for them at Whitehall, and through Westminster, that they may be
ready at hand, within call of a question: all of them are received
into pension, and know their pay-day, which they never fail of:
insomuch that a great officer was pleased to say, 'That they came
about him like so many jack-daws for cheese at the end of every
Session.' If they be not in Parliament, they must be in prison, and
as they are protected themselves, by privilege, so they sell their
protections to others, to the obstruction so many years together of
the law of the land, and the publick justice; for these it is, that
the long and frequent adjournments are calculated, but all whether
the court, or the monopolizers of the country party, or those that
profane the title of old cavaliers, do equally, though upon differing
reasons, like death apprehend a dissolution. But notwithstanding
these, there is an handful of salt, a sparkle of soul, that hath
hitherto preserved this gross body from putrefaction, some gentlemen
that are constant, invariable, indeed Englishmen; such as are above
hopes, or fears, or dissimulation, that can neither flatter, nor
betray their king or country: but being conscious of their own
loyalty and integrity, proceed throw good and bad report, to acquit
themselves in their duty to God, their prince, and their nation;
although so small a scantling in number, that men can scarce reckon
of them more than a _quorum_; insomuch that it is less difficult to
conceive how fire was first brought to light in the world than how
any good thing could ever be produced out of an House of Commons so
constituted, unless as that is imagined to have come from the rushing
of trees, or battering of rocks together, by accident, so these, by
their clashing with one another, have struck out an useful effect
from so unlikely causes. But whatsoever casual good hath been wrought
at any time by the assimilation of ambitious, factious and
disappointed members, to the little, but solid, and unbiassed party,
the more frequent ill effects, and consequences of so unequal a
mixture, so long continued, are demonstrable and apparent. For while
scarce any man comes thither with respect to the publick service, but
in design to make and raise his fortune, it is not to be expressed,
the debauchery, and lewdness, which, upon occasion of election to
Parliaments, are now grown habitual thorow the nation. So that the
vice, and the expence, are risen to such a prodigious height, that
few sober men can indure to stand to be chosen on such conditions.
From whence also arise feuds, and perpetual animosities, over most of
the counties and corporations, while gentlemen of worth, spirit, and
ancient estates and dependances, see themselves overpowered in their
own neighbourhood by the drunkness and bribery, of their competitors.
But if nevertheless any worthy person chance to carry the election,
some mercenary or corrupt sheriff makes a double return, and so the
cause is handed to the Committee of elections, who ask no better, but
are ready to adopt his adversary into the House if he be not
legitimate. And if the gentleman agrieved seek his remedy against the
sheriff in Westminster-Hall, and the proofs be so palpable, that the
King's Bench cannot invent how to do him injustice, yet the major
part of the twelve judges shall upon better consideration vacate the
sheriff's fine and reverse the judgement; but those of them that dare
dissent from their brethren are in danger to be turned off the bench
without any cause assigned. While men therefore care not thus how
they get into the House of Commons, neither can it be expected that
they should make any conscience of what they do there, but they are
only intent how to reimburse themselves (if their elections were at
their own charge) or how to bargain their votes for a place or a
pension. They list themselves straightways into some Court faction,
and it is as well-known among them, to what Lord each of them
retain, as when formerly they wore coats and badges. By this long
haunting so together, they are grown too so familiar among
themselves, that all reverence of their own Assembly is lost, that
they live together not like Parliament men, but like so many good
fellows met together in a publick house to make merry. And which is
yet worse, by being so thoroughly acquainted, they understand their
number and party, so that the use of so publick a counsel is
frustrated, there is no place for deliberation, no perswading by
reason, but they can see one another's votes through both throats and
cravats before they hear them.
"Where the cards are so well known, they are only fit for a cheat,
and no fair gamester but would throw them under the table."[209:1]
It is a melancholy picture.
Here, perhaps, may be best inserted the story about the proffered bribe.
The story is entitled to small credit, but as helping to swell and
maintain a tradition concerning an historical character about whom
little is positively known, it can hardly escape mention in any
biography of Marvell. A pamphlet printed in Ireland (1754) supplies an
easy flowing version of the tale.
"The borough of Hull, in the reign of Charles II., chose Andrew
Marvell, a young gentleman of little or no fortune, and maintained
him in London for the service of the public. His understanding,
integrity, and spirit, were dreadful to the then infamous
administration. Persuaded that he would be theirs for properly
asking, they sent his old school-fellow, the Lord Treasurer Danby, to
renew acquaintance with him in his garret. At parting, the Lord
Treasurer, out of _pure affection_, slipped into his hand an order
upon the treasury for L1000, and then went to his chariot. Marvell,
looking at the paper, calls after the Treasurer, 'My Lord, I request
another moment.' They went up again to the garret, and Jack, the
servant boy, was called. 'Jack, child, what had I for dinner
yesterday?' 'Don't you remember, sir? you had the little shoulder of
mutton that you ordered me to bring from a woman in the market.'
'Very right, child.' 'What have I for dinner to-day?' 'Don't you
know, sir, that you bid me lay by the _blade-bone to broil_.' ''Tis
so, very right, child, go away.' 'My Lord, do you hear that? Andrew
Marvell's dinner is provided; there's your piece of paper. I want it
not. I knew the sort of kindness you intended. I live here to serve
my constituents: the ministry may seek men for their purpose; _I am
not one_.'"[210:1]
One more letter remains to be quoted:--
_To William Ramsden, Esq._
"_June 10, 1678._
"DEAR WILL,--I have time to tell you thus much of publick matters.
The patience of the Scots, under their oppressions, is not to be
paralleled in any history. They still continue their extraordinary
and numerous, but peaceable, field conventicles. One Mr. Welch is
their arch-minister, and the last letter I saw tells, people were
going forty miles to hear him. There came out, about Christmas last,
here, a large book concerning the growth of popery and arbitrary
government. There have been great rewards offered in private, and
considerable in the Gazette, to any one who could inform of the
author or printer, but not yet discovered. Three or four printed
books since have described, as near as it was proper to go, the man
being a Member of Parliament, Mr. Marvell, to have been the author;
but if he had, surely he should not have escaped being questioned in
Parliament or some other place. My good wishes attend you."
The last letter Andrew Marvell wrote to his constituents is dated July
6, 1678. The member for Hull died in August 1678. The Parliament in
which he had sat continuously for eighteen years was at last dissolved
on the 30th of December in the year of his death.
FOOTNOTES:
[181:1] Grosart, vol. iv. p. 248.
[183:1] Ranke's _History of England_, vol. iii. p. 471.
[185:1] Ranke, vol. iii. p. 520.
[187:1] Grosart, vol. iv. (_Growth of Popery_), p. 275.
[187:2] _Ibid._, p. 279.
[189:1] See note to Dr. Airy's edition of Burnet's _History_, vol. ii.
p. 73.
[199:1] Marvell's commendatory verses on "Mr. Milton's Paradise Lost"
(so entitled in the volume of 1681) were first printed in the Second
Edition (1674) of Milton's great poem. Marvell did not agree with Dryden
in thinking that _Paradise Lost_ would be improved by rhyme, and says so
in these verses.
[202:1] Printed in Captain Thompson's edition, vol. i. p. 432.
[204:1] Grosart, vol. iv. p. 304.
[205:1] Grosart, vol. iv. p. 308.
[206:1] Grosart, vol. iv. p. 322.
[209:1] Grosart, vol. iv. p. 327.
[210:1] This story is first told in a balder form by Cooke in his
edition of 1726. It may be read as Cooke tells it in the _Dictionary of
National Biography_, xxxvi., p. 329. There was probably some foundation
for it.