On the 1st of July, 1690, the memorable Battle of the Boyne was
fought and won by William III. He received a slight wound; and that
slight wound created an unexampled sensation throughout England and
the cities and courts of Europe. A letter conveying the intelligence
reached the Queen at Whitehall just as she was going to chapel; and,
to use her own expression, it frightened her out of her wits. But out
of her senses with trouble one day, she was out of her senses with
joy the next, to find the injury turned out to be very slight.[190]
Paris, at first frantic with exultation on hearing of the supposed
death of the great enemy of France, sunk into rageful disappointment
to find that he was still alive, and ready to fight further battles in
support of Protestantism. Strange as it may appear--but the strange
combinations of European parties and politics at that time will account
for it--the tidings of the wound brought no joy to Rome, any more than
to Austria.[191] Both were reassured by a true report of the fate of
William. “No mortal man,” said Tillotson, “ever had his shoulder so
kindly kissed by a cannon bullet;” a felicitous tune of expression,
which even South, with all his prejudice against Tillotson, could not
fail to admire.[192]
[Sidenote: 1690.]
Whilst the battle was raging on the banks of the Boyne, a sea fight
occurred off the Sussex coast; an English Bishop, in sympathy with
his Royal master, was performing his sacred functions in the vicinity
of the latter of these conflicts; and an extract from his Diary in
reference to it is worth transcribing:--
“Thirtieth of June, being Monday, I began my visitation at Arundel;
and went the next day to Lewes, where I visited on Wednesday; and on
Thursday went towards Hastings, and heard by the way that the French
were burning that town. But we resolved to go on, being invited to
lie at Sir Nicholas Pelham’s, whose house was not many miles from it.
He was gone thither with other country gentlemen; the French having
attempted to burn some ships that were run on ground there. He sent us
word the town was safe, but he could not come home that night. At six
in the morning he came, and said there was no danger, but the town was
in such confusion that it would be to no purpose to go thither. For
the churches were full of soldiers, who lay there all night, and the
streets full of country people, and all the women frighted away and
fled, so that there were none left to dress any victuals. He invited
us therefore to stay with him, and entertained us most kindly. But my
Chancellor, Dr. Briggs, all on a sudden started up, and would go to
Hastings, and about noon word was brought us some of the Clergy were
there; which made me condemn myself for not going with him, though I
followed the best advice I could get. And afterward it appeared to be
the best; for though some of the clergy appeared, there was no place
wherein to visit them; and besides it might have proved dangerous: for
two men were killed with a cannon bullet in the very next house to that
where my Chancellor sat; which made him run away in haste before he had
done his business, and (as I remember) left some of his books behind
him.”[193]
[Sidenote: SHERLOCK.]
The Battle of the Boyne led to an important clerical conversion.
William Sherlock, Master of the Temple, had distinguished himself in
the reign of James II., not only by his zeal in contending against
Popery, but also by his decision in maintaining the principle of
non-resistance. He strongly disapproved of the turn which affairs
took at the Revolution, and advocated negotiations with the exiled
Monarch, in reference to his being restored upon terms which would
preserve constitutional liberty. The accession of the Prince and
Princess of Orange inspired indignation, and the new oaths were by him
unhesitatingly declined. He threw in his lot with the Nonjurors, who
regarded his talents with respect and his character with admiration;
and they esteemed the support of a man so popular as a tower of
strength. After losing the Mastership of the Temple, he retired into
private life, and, pensive amidst misfortunes, wrote and published his
celebrated treatise on Death. Still he deprecated schism; disapproved
of the establishment of any Episcopal sect; advised those who could
conscientiously remain, not to forsake their parish churches; and even
officiated himself at St. Dunstan’s, actually reading the prayers
for William and Mary. When the Battle of the Boyne decided the fate
of the exile, and secured peace for the occupants of the throne,
Sherlock looked at things in another light, became reconciled to the
revolutionary settlement, and took the oaths which he had before
refused. As a consequence, he returned to the Mastership of the Temple,
and also received the Deanery of St. Paul’s, vacated by Tillotson’s
elevation to Canterbury. So prominent a man on the nonjuring side,
could not pass through such a conversion without giving some reasons
for it; accordingly he wrote a book, which he entitled, _The Case of
the Allegiance due to Sovereign Powers stated and resolved according to
Scripture and Reason and the Principles of the Church of England_.
[Sidenote: 1690.]
[Sidenote: SHERLOCK.]
Sancroft, soon after the Revolution, published what was called
_Bishop Overall’s Convocation Book_, written in the reign of James
I., containing certain conclusions respecting Ecclesiastical and Civil
Government, one of which, notwithstanding the current tone of the
book in favour of non-resistance, is to the effect, that a Government
originating in rebellion, when thoroughly settled, should be reverenced
and obeyed as “being always God’s authority, and therefore receiving no
impeachment by the wickedness of those that have it.” The Convocations
of Canterbury and York had endorsed the contents of Overall’s volume;
and, by a canon, distinctly condemned the doctrine that a Government
begun by rebellion, after being thoroughly settled, is not of God.[194]
Sherlock made a good deal out of this, and said he should have
continued to stick at the oaths, had he not been relieved by Overall’s
book, and had not the venerable authority of a Convocation given him a
freedom of thinking, which the apprehensions of novelty and singularity
had cramped before.[195] He did not consider, as is sometimes
represented, that the Bishop and Convocation settled the matter, and
that he was to submit as a child to the authoritative decree; but that
a door had been thereby opened to the sons of the Church to look at
the matter;[196] and that he, having been thus induced to examine it
afresh, had for various reasons, which he assigns--some of which, it
must be acknowledged, run counter to his previous publications on the
subject[197]--arrived at the conclusion that he could conscientiously
take the required vow. A terrible storm assailed him after this.
Argument, satire, and abuse, sometimes in vulgar prose, sometimes in
doggerel rhyme, descended in torrents upon his devoted head. Nonjurors
reviled him on the one side; Revolutionists on the other; and people
who did not care for either side joined in the old English cry against
turncoats and time-servers. Most people maintained he had changed
for the sake of loaves and fishes; and, as Mrs. Sherlock had made
herself very notorious, and was said to have had immense influence
over her husband, she caught a terrible pelting from a literary mob,
who assailed her as Xanthippe, Delilah, and Eve, all in one. Sherlock
had to pay the penalty, which men, whose new opinions jump in the
same direction as their pecuniary interests, must ever pay; but human
motives, whether good or evil, lie so far beneath the surface, that the
reading of them by even honest historians may widely differ from the
reading of them by the only Omniscient One. Contemporaries were too
much involved in party strife to take an unbiassed view of Sherlock’s
conduct; and writers since have scarcely been able to free themselves
from prejudices handed down by the pamphlets of that day. The grave
feature of the case affecting the reputation of the Master and Dean,
is to be found, not in the new application of a principle which he
had long held; but in the repudiation of his old principles, just at
the moment when the Battle of the Boyne had destroyed all prospect
of James’ restoration--the chance upon which, as Sherlock’s enemies
believed, he had ventured hopes of high preferment, during the time of
casting in his lot with the poor Nonjurors.[198]
[Sidenote: 1690.]
The Battle of the Boyne having established the Revolution, and with it
the throne of William, the people who had hailed him as their Deliverer
became more than ever impatient towards all who remained disaffected
towards his Government.
Lloyd, the nonjuring Bishop of Norwich, a friend, adviser, and
correspondent of Sancroft, not being one of the illustrious Seven,
had never shared in that halo of confessorship which for awhile had
played around their sacred heads; but he had long been, and was still
more than ever, regarded as an obstinate, violent, and intriguing
Churchman, bent upon overthrowing the new Sovereign, and bringing back
to Whitehall the exiled King. His politics, not his religion, made him
unpopular; and his letters to his archiepiscopal friend, written in the
summer of 1690, betray the fact, that whatever might be the dislike
of the London populace to nonjuring Bishops in general, a feeling of
hatred prevailed against him in particular, and threatened his security
in one of the most unaristocratic districts of the Metropolis.
“I was yesterday,” he wrote on the 5th of August, “forced to a sudden
flight, being alarmed by the rabble, who began to appear at their
Reformation work in Old Street. I had a message from a good friend last
Saturday, which assured me that the rabble would be up in a short time.
And on Friday, my housekeeper (being among some of her relations in
Cripplegate) brought me word, that the fanatics talked bitterly against
the Bishops, and would shortly call them to an account.
“About 9 of the clock yesterday, Mr. Edwards, of Eye, and another
gentleman, called upon me, and told me they saw about 150 of the mob
very busy in pulling down of houses in Old Street. Within a few minutes
the hawker which sells pamphlets brought the same tidings, and, in
regard the dangerous crew were so near, I sent forthwith one of my men
to see how the affair went abroad, and another to fetch me a hackney
coach, into which I got with my wife and child, and straightway took
sanctuary in the Temple. From thence I sent for further information,
and found that the crew in Old Street was dispersed; partly by Justice
Parry coming among them and taking their names and threatening them
with informations; and chiefly by a company of the train-bands, who in
that nick of time passed that way to muster in the fields.
[Sidenote: 1690.]
“About four in the afternoon I returned to my house and found all quiet
in the way. If the rabble had continued I would not have failed to send
notice to your Grace; and, on the other hand, I resolved not to send a
confused uncertain alarm. God be praised, this scarecrow is over, and
I hope God will still deliver us from the bloody fangs of cruel saints
and scoundrels.”[199]
Six months later the popular fury against men of Lloyd’s order was
being fanned afresh, and again he told his sorrows to his old friend:
“Your Grace will see by the enclosed papers how the mob are encouraged
to bring some under their discipline: their wrath is cruel, and their
malice as keen as razors, but God defend the innocent from their rage.
“There is also published a most devilish Atheistical satire against the
Clergy in general, but more especially against poor Nonjurors. I think
no age hath seen the like of it,--it’s called a Satire against the
Priests.”[200]
Nonjurors lived on both sides the Irish Channel. Soon after the battle
which decided the fate of James, though it did not crush the hopes and
schemes of his supporters, William had his attention called to the
refusal of the Bishop of Ossory to pray for him in public worship. “His
Majesty’s command,” said the Secretary of State to the delinquent, “is,
that your Lordship be suspended till further order. I know not the
terms, being here in a camp, that are used in things of this nature;
but I acquaint your Lordship of His Majesty’s present resentment, and
can say no more till I hear from your Lordship herein.”[201] Nonjurors
on this side of the Channel, however, gave much more trouble than they
did on the other.
[Sidenote: SCHEMES FOR RESTORATION.]
A scheme for the restoration of James came to light at the end of 1690.
The leader of the conspiracy was Richard Graham, Viscount Preston,
Secretary of State in the preceding reign, whose patent of nobility had
been drawn up at St. Germains, and who retained his seals of office
in spite of the Revolution. Secret conferences were held amongst the
English Jacobites, and as the result, Lord Preston, with a Mr. Ashton
and another companion, were despatched with treasonable papers to the
ex-King; but ere they had passed Tilbury Fort, in a smack which was
to convey them to the shores of France, they were seized and brought
back to London. Preston and Ashton were tried, convicted, and condemned
at the Old Bailey. Ashton was executed; Preston was pardoned. As
they lay under sentence of death, the sympathies of the Nonjurors
eagerly gathered round them, and the following letter from two
well-known members of the party, to Sancroft--who still lingered in his
Archiepiscopal Palace on the banks of the Thames--shows how earnestly
they sought to enlist his offices:--
[Sidenote: 1691.]
“We who waited on your Grace on Sunday last, in the evening,
being sensible that we were defective in the delivery of
our message, occasioned, in great measure, out of profound
respect to your Grace, have, upon a fuller recollection of
the importance of that affair, presumed to lay our thoughts
more plainly before your Grace, humbly conceiving, with all
due submission to your Grace’s judgment, that if your Grace
shall think it proper to give your personal assistance to the
gentlemen under sentence of death, it would not only be a
very great comfort and satisfaction to the dying gentlemen,
but likewise a considerable support and encouragement to all
surviving honest men.
“My Lord, the concern is very extraordinary, otherwise we had
not presumed to give your Grace this trouble, and therefore, we
humbly beg your Grace would please to excuse this freedom.[202]
“JEREMY COLLIER,
“SHADRACH COOKE.”
Turner, Bishop of Ely, was charged with complicity in Preston’s
treasonable business, and two suspicious letters were produced, said
to be in the Prelate’s handwriting; but I cannot find evidence of
their authorship, or any proof in their contents justifying a charge
of treason. As Turner immediately hid himself, and then absconded,
it looks, notwithstanding, as if he felt a pang of conscious guilt;
but concealment in his case seems to have been a difficult matter,
for he had such a remarkable nose, that Sancroft, with a play of
humour,--which occasionally illumined his misfortunes,--spoke of
his friend as resembling Paul’s ship of Alexandria, which carried
a well-known sign upon its prow, or beak. Hence, though London was
a great wood, it would be hard for one with such a face, however
disguised by a patriarchal beard, or by a huge peruke, to escape
detection.[203] It is not a little remarkable that, though the deposed
Primate prayed for his friend’s safety, he expressed no conviction
of his friend’s innocence. The Nonjurors, as we have seen, had been
treated with consideration and kindness. Though forfeiting their Sees
in February, 1690, after which successors were nominated, the Prelates
of the party were allowed to retain their palaces; and even as late
as April, 1691, attempts were made by friends of the Government to
compromise matters with them, in spite of the increased odium cast on
their order by Turner’s conduct: it was proposed that, at least, they
should disavow all share in the alleged conspiracy, but Sancroft would
do nothing of the kind, easy and reasonable as such a concession seemed.
[Sidenote: NONJURORS EJECTED.]
There remained no alternative but to eject the disaffected, and to
induct loyal successors. As the crisis approached, questions were
raised and discussed by Nonjurors, touching the treatment of those
so inducted. Lloyd, Sancroft’s busy correspondent, now wrote to say
how perplexed he felt; for, extreme as might be his views, they were
surpassed by the views of others. He reported that they asked, what
they should do in case they appeared at any of the new Episcopal
elections,--should they oppose them? From such a proposal he shrunk,
for to carry it out might incur a _premunire_. Further, he
inquired whether for him to recommend their absenting themselves
would not be cowardly? Nonplussed by these problems, he despondingly
added, “What, then, is to be done? Here I stick.” His friend Wagstaffe
informed him, some had resolved to resist all Erastian intrusion,
and expected the displaced Bishops would assert their rights. Lloyd
grew testy at such an excess of zeal, and wished to know what the
self-appointed critics would advise the Prelates to do? Had not those
very critics submitted to deprivation? Of what use would it be for
their superiors to do otherwise?[204]
[Sidenote: 1691.]
Presently the question came again on the carpet.
“May it please your Grace,” wrote the indefatigable Lloyd, “I had last
Saturday a fit opportunity to discourse with Sir Edward Entwich about
the _vexatio questio_, and found him--upon consideration of the
whole matter--to be of the same opinion with Mr. N---- th. The first
question that I proposed was, whether it was advisable for us to keep
possession till we were ejected by legal processes; his answer was, we
might, if we judged it meet, dispute the possession; but then, saith
he, you must at last expect to be outed, and to pay the costs and
charges of the suit, and to be called to Westminster Hall, and perhaps
elsewhere, to answer hard questions, and that with all rigour. I then
asked whether he would advise us so to do, and appear for us, and draw
pleas as occasions offered? To this his answer was, that he knew not to
what purpose we should put ourselves to fruitless trouble; for, saith
he, if a happy turn should come, all the proceedings against you will
be out of doors. This is the sum of our discourse.”
He adds a paragraph respecting a Nonjuror whose Jacobitism had plunged
him into serious danger:
“I saw Dr. B[ea]ch last week, who hopes shortly to be at liberty, or at
least to be abroad upon bail.
“It was well for him that the informer blundered in his depositions
against him, and indeed, so did the justices who took the information;
for there is not in the deposition any express mention of the time or
place, when and where the Doctor said, that _the same power which put
our Saviour on the pinnacle of the Temple, put William and Mary upon
the throne_; but I am told that there are other informations against
him. His successor has broke into his Church in his absence, and got
possession in his absence, and this is a very great trouble to the Dr.
[Sidenote: NONJURORS EJECTED.]
“I hear that Mr. Dean of Worcester begins to appear again, and hopes
that the storm will blow over him. I heartily wish it may, _sed timeo
Danaos_; for commonly they are not so generous.”[205]
The Dean of Worcester here referred to was Dr. Hickes. A little more
than a fortnight before Lloyd’s letter was written, the Dean drew up
a protest against his own ejectment, addressed to the Sub-Dean and
Prebendaries, idly declaring the appointment of a successor to be
illegal, and as idly calling upon them to defend the rights of the
dispossessed. This protesting ended in smoke. Hickes and Wagstaffe, as
well as Lloyd, had to succumb; so had Frampton of Gloucester, and White
of Peterborough. Sancroft yielded only to a legal process; and at last,
on Midsummer eve, between seven and eight o’clock, accompanied by the
steward of his household and three other friends, he entered a boat at
Lambeth ferry, which conveyed the little party to the Temple stairs,
where the deprived Primate sought shelter for a few days in Palsgrave
Court. One imagines, as amidst the lengthening shadows on the waters
that same night he left for ever the towers of the familiar palace, he
would cast “one longing, lingering look behind.” But history preserves
a more touching picture of the departure of Ken from the city of Wells.
[Sidenote: 1691.]
After he had from his pastoral chair in the Cathedral asserted his
Canonical right to remain Bishop of the Diocese, he passed through
the gardens and crossed the drawbridge over the moat, whilst old and
young crowded round him to ask his blessing and say farewell. “Mild,
complacent, yet dignified,” remarks the Layman who writes his life,
“on retiring with a peaceful conscience from opulence and station
to dependence and poverty, as the morning sun shone on the turreted
chapel, we naturally imagine he may have shed only one tear, when
looking back on those interesting scenes. Perhaps his eye might have
rested on the pale faces of some of the poor old men and women who had
partaken their Sunday dinner so often, and heard his discourse in the
old hall.”[206]
Dr. Beveridge, who will be more particularly noticed hereafter, was
offered the See of Bath and Wells; but he was threatened by the
Nonjurors, in case he should accept the offer, with the fate of
schismatical usurpers, like Gregory and George of Cappadocia, who
invaded the See of Alexandria, upon the deposition of the orthodox
Athanasius.
[Sidenote: NONJURORS EJECTED.]
A rumour went abroad that the Archdeacon of Colchester had accepted a
mitre, in consequence of which friends pestered him with letters for
his suspected act, and turned against him his reputation for learning
and loyalty. Dr. Lowth prematurely addressed him under an Episcopal
title, and expostulated with him in the following terms:--
“May it please your Lordship,
“You must be sensible in what great reputation all well-minded,
learned, and judicious men, have had your laborious performances
upon the Laws and Canons of the Church. But notwithstanding,
since you have accepted a nomination to the Bishopric of Bath
and Wells, of which See Dr. Ken is the Canonical proprietor;
and having not been removed by his brethren, the Bishops,
something more is required of you, whereby its comportment with
those Church Laws may appear, so frequently forbidding two
Bishops to be in one city. It is well known what separations
the same practice hath bred in God’s Church, as also that her
decision hath still been against you. If, then, the same return,
the guilt and schism of it must be laid at your door, unless
you can produce such ground for the present practice, whereof
not only yourself but the Ancient Church hath heretofore been
ignorant. These are the sentiments of many, who have formerly
been your just admirers, and desire that you will give them no
occasion of taking new measures concerning you, and particularly
of him, who, notwithstanding he may no longer--upon the account
of your present promotion--write himself your brother, yet will
always remain
“Yours, in the faith and discipline
of the Ancient Church.”[207]
Whether or not such rebukes and warnings prevented Beveridge from
accepting the vacant See, at all events he declined it, and remained a
Presbyter till after the death of William.