victims of tyranny to their families. Punishments by mutilation, though
not quite unknown to the English law, had been of rare occurrence; and
thus inflicted on men whose station appeared to render the ignominy of
whipping and branding more intolerable, they produced much the same
effect as the still greater cruelties of Mary's reign, in exciting a
detestation of that ecclesiastical dominion which protected itself by
means so atrocious.
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
Now commenced a new era. Many English kings had occasionally committed
unconstitutional acts; but none had ever systematically attempted to
make himself a despot, and to reduce the Parliament to a nullity. Such
was the end which Charles distinctly proposed to himself. From March,
1629, to April, 1640, the Houses were not convoked. Never in our history
had there been an interval of eleven years between Parliament and
Parliament. Only once had there been an interval of even half that
length. This fact alone is sufficient to refute those who represent
Charles as having merely trodden in the footsteps of the Plantagenets
and Tudors.
It is proved, by the testimony of the King's most strenuous supporters,
that, during this part of his reign, the provisions of the Petition of
Right were violated by him, not occasionally, but constantly, and on
system; that a large part of the revenue was raised without any legal
authority; and that persons obnoxious to the government languished for
years in prison, without being ever called upon to plead before any
tribunal.
For these things history must hold the King himself chiefly responsible.
From the time of his third Parliament he was his own prime minister.
Several persons, however, whose temper and talents were suited to his
purposes, were at the head of different departments of the
administration.
Thomas Wentworth, successively created Lord Wentworth and Earl of
Strafford, a man of great abilities, eloquence, and courage, but of a
cruel and imperious nature, was the counsellor most trusted in political
and military affairs. He had been one of the most distinguished members
of the opposition, and felt toward those whom he had deserted that
peculiar malignity which has, in all ages, been characteristic of
apostates. He perfectly understood the feelings, the resources, and the
policy of the party to which he had lately belonged, and had formed a
vast and deeply meditated scheme which very nearly confounded even the
able tactics of the statesmen by whom the House of Commons had been
directed. To this scheme, in his confidential correspondence, he gave
the expressive name of Thorough.
His object was to do in England all, and more than all, that Richelieu
was doing in France: to make Charles a monarch as absolute as any on the
Continent; to put the estates and the personal liberty of the whole
people at the disposal of the crown; to deprive the courts of law of all
independent authority, even in ordinary questions of civil right between
man and man; and to punish with merciless rigor all who murmured at the
acts of the government, or who applied, even in the most decent and
regular manner, to any tribunal for relief against those acts.
This was his end; and he distinctly saw in what manner alone this end
could be attained. There was, in truth, about all his notions a
clearness, a coherence, a precision, which, if he had not been pursuing
an object pernicious to his country and to his kind, would have justly
entitled him to high admiration. He saw that there was one instrument,
and only one, by which his vast and daring projects could be carried
into execution. That instrument was a standing army. To the forming of
such an army, therefore, he directed all the energy of his strong mind.
In Ireland, where he was viceroy, he actually succeeded in establishing
a military despotism, not only over the aboriginal population, but also
over the English colonists, and was able to boast that, in that island,
the King was as absolute as any prince in the whole world could be.
The ecclesiastical administration was, in the mean time, principally
directed by William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury. Of all the prelates
of the Anglican Church, Laud had departed furthest from the principles
of the Reformation and had drawn nearest to Rome. His theology was more
remote than even that of the Dutch Arminians from the theology of the
Calvinists. His passion for ceremonies, his reverence for holidays,
vigils, and sacred places, his ill-concealed dislike of the marriage of
ecclesiastics, the ardent and not altogether disinterested zeal with
which he asserted the claims of the clergy to the reverence of the
laity, would have made him an object of aversion to the Puritans, even
if he had used only legal and gentle means for the attainment of his
ends. But his understanding was narrow; and his commerce with the world
had been small. He was by nature rash, irritable, quick to feel for his
own dignity, slow to sympathize with the sufferings of others, and prone
to the error, common in superstitious men, of mistaking his own peevish
and malignant moods for emotions of pious zeal.
Under his direction every corner of the realm was subjected to a
constant and minute inspection. Every little congregation of Separatists
was tracked out and broken up. Even the devotions of private families
could not escape the vigilance of his spies. Such fear did his rigor
inspire that the deadly hatred of the Church, which festered in
innumerable bosoms, was generally disguised under an outward show of
conformity. On the very eve of troubles, fatal to himself and to his
order, the bishops of several extensive dioceses were able to report to
him that not a single dissenter was to be found within their
jurisdiction.
The tribunals afforded no protection to the subject against the civil
and ecclesiastical tyranny of that period. The judges of the common law,
holding their situations during the pleasure of the King, were
scandalously obsequious. Yet, obsequious as they were, they were less
ready and less efficient instruments of arbitrary power than a class of
courts the memory of which is still, after the lapse of more than two
centuries, held in deep abhorrence by the nation. Foremost among these
courts in power and in infamy were the Star-chamber and the High
Commission, the former a political, the latter a religious, inquisition.
Neither was a part of the old constitution of England. The Star-chamber
had been remodelled, and the High Commission created, by the Tudors.
The power which these boards had possessed before the accession of
Charles had been extensive and formidable, but had been small indeed
when compared with that which they now usurped. Guided chiefly by the
violent spirit of the primate, and freed from the control of Parliament,
they displayed a rapacity, a violence, a malignant energy, which had
been unknown to any former age. The government was able through their
instrumentality, to fine, imprison, pillory, and mutilate without
restraint. A separate council which sat at York, under the presidency of
Wentworth, was armed, in defiance of law, by a pure act of prerogative,
with almost boundless power over the northern counties. All these
tribunals insulted and defied the authority of Westminster hall, and
daily committed excesses which the most distinguished royalists have
warmly condemned. We are informed by Clarendon that there was hardly a
man of note in the realm who had not personal experience of the
harshness and greediness of the Star-chamber, that the High Commission
had so conducted itself that it had scarce a friend left in the kingdom,
and that the tyranny of the Council of York had made the Great Charter a
dead letter on the north of the Trent.
The government of England was now, in all points but one, as despotic as
that of France. But that one point was all-important. There was still no
standing army. There was therefore no security that the whole fabric of
tyranny might not be subverted in a single day; and if taxes were
imposed by the royal authority for the support of an army, it was
probable that there would be an immediate and irresistible explosion.
This was the difficulty which more than any other perplexed Wentworth.
The Lord Keeper Finch, in concert with other lawyers who were employed
by the government, recommended an expedient which was eagerly adopted.
The ancient princes of England, as they called on the inhabitants of
the counties near Scotland to arm and array themselves for the defence
of the border, had sometimes called on the maritime counties to furnish
ships for the defence of the coast. In the room of ships, money had
sometimes been accepted. This old practice it was now determined, after
a long interval, not only to revive, but to extend. Former princes had
raised ship-money only in time of war: it was now exacted in a time of
profound peace. Former princes, even in the most perilous wars, had
raised ship-money only along the coasts: it was now exacted from the
inland shires. Former princes had raised ship-money only for the
maritime defence of the country: it was now exacted, by the admission of
the royalists themselves, with the object, not of maintaining a navy,
but of furnishing the King with supplies which might be increased at his
discretion to any amount, and expended at his discretion for any
purpose.
The whole nation was alarmed and incensed. John Hampden, an opulent and
well-born gentleman of Buckinghamshire, highly considered in his own
neighborhood, but as yet little known to the kingdom generally, had the
courage to step forward, to confront the whole power of the government,
and take on himself the cost and the risk of disputing the prerogative
to which the King laid claim. The case was argued before the judges in
the exchequer chamber. So strong were the arguments against the
pretensions of the crown that, dependent and servile as the judges were,
the majority against Hampden was the smallest possible. Still there was
a majority. The interpreters of the law had pronounced that one great
and productive tax might be imposed by the royal authority. Wentworth
justly observed that it was impossible to vindicate their judgment
except by reasons directly leading to a conclusion which they had not
ventured to draw. If money might legally be raised without the consent
of Parliament for the support of a fleet, it was not easy to deny that
money might, without consent of Parliament, be legally raised for the
support of an army.
The decision of the judges increased the irritation of the people. A
century earlier, irritation less serious would have produced a general
rising. But discontent did not now so readily, as in an earlier age,
take the form of rebellion. The nation had been long steadily advancing
in wealth and in civilization. Since the great northern earls took up
arms against Elizabeth seventy years had elapsed; and during those
seventy years there had been no civil war. Never, during the whole
existence of the English nation, had so long a period passed without
intestine hostilities. Men had become accustomed to the pursuits of
peaceful industry, and, exasperated as they were, hesitated long before
they drew the sword.
This was the conjuncture at which the liberties of the nation were in
the greatest peril. The opponents of the government began to despair of
the destiny of their country; and many looked to the American wilderness
as the only asylum in which they could enjoy civil and spiritual
freedom. There a few resolute Puritans, who, in the cause of their
religion, feared neither the rage of the ocean nor the hardships of
uncivilized life, neither the fangs of savage beasts nor the tomahawks
of more savage men, had built, amid the primeval forests, villages which
are now great and opulent cities, but which have, through every change,
retained some trace of the character derived from their founders. The
government regarded these infant colonies with aversion, and attempted
violently to stop the stream of emigration, but could not prevent the
population of New England from being largely recruited by stout-hearted
and God-fearing men from every part of the old England. And now
Wentworth exulted in the near prospect of Thorough. A few years might
probably suffice for the execution of his great design. If strict
economy were observed, if all collision with foreign powers were
carefully avoided, the debts of the crown would be cleared off: there
would be funds available for the support of a large military force; and
that force would soon break the refractory spirit of the nation.
At this crisis an act of insane bigotry suddenly changed the whole face
of public affairs. Had the King been wise, he would have pursued a
cautious and soothing policy toward Scotland till he was master in the
South. For Scotland was of all his kingdoms that in which there was the
greatest risk that a spark might produce a flame, and that a flame might
become a conflagration. The government had long wished to extend the
Anglican system over the whole island, and had already, with this view,
made several changes highly distasteful to every Presbyterian. One
innovation, however, the most hazardous of all, because it was directly
cognizable by the senses of the common people, had not yet been
attempted. The public worship of God was still conducted in the manner
acceptable to the nation. Now, however, Charles and Laud determined to
force on the Scots the English liturgy, or rather a liturgy which,
wherever it differed from that of England, differed, in the judgment of
all rigid Protestants, for the worse.
To this step, taken in the mere wantonness of tyranny, and in criminal
ignorance or more criminal contempt of public feeling, England owes her
freedom. The first performance of the foreign ceremonies produced a
riot. The riot rapidly became a revolution. Ambition, patriotism,
fanaticism, were mingled in one headlong torrent. The whole nation was
in arms. The power of England was, indeed, as appeared some years later,
sufficient to coerce Scotland; but a large part of the English people
sympathized with the religious feelings of the insurgents, and many
Englishmen who had no scruple about antiphonies and genuflexions, altars
and surplices, saw with pleasure the progress of a rebellion which
seemed likely to confound the arbitrary projects of the court and to
make the calling of a parliament necessary.
For the senseless freak which had produced these effects Wentworth is
not responsible. It had, in fact, thrown all his plans into confusion.
To counsel submission, however, was not in his nature. An attempt was
made to put down the insurrection by the sword; but the King's military
means and military talents were unequal to the task. To impose fresh
taxes on England in defiance of law would, at this conjuncture, have
been madness. No resource was left but a Parliament; and in the spring
of 1640 a parliament was convoked.
The nation had been put into good humor by the prospect of seeing
constitutional government restored and grievances redressed. The new
House of Commons was more temperate and more respectful to the throne
than any which had sat since the death of Elizabeth. The moderation of
this assembly has been highly extolled by the most distinguished
royalists, and seems to have caused no small vexation and disappointment
to the chiefs of the opposition; but it was the uniform practice of
Charles--a practice equally impolitic and ungenerous--to refuse all
compliances with the desires of his people, till those desires were
expressed in a menacing tone. As soon as the Commons showed a
disposition to take into consideration the grievances under which the
country had suffered during eleven years, the King dissolved the
Parliament with every mark of displeasure.
Between the dissolution of this short-lived assembly and the meeting of
that ever-memorable body known by the name of the Long Parliament,
intervened a few months, during which the yoke was pressed down more
severely than ever on the nation, while the spirit of the nation rose up
more angrily than ever against the yoke. Members of the House of Commons
were questioned by the privy council touching their parliamentary
conduct, and thrown into prison for refusing to reply. Ship-money was
levied with increased rigor. The lord mayor and the sheriffs of London
were threatened with imprisonment for remissness in collecting the
payments. Soldiers were enlisted by force. Money for their support was
exacted from their counties. Torture, which had always been illegal, and
which had recently been declared illegal even by the servile judges of
that age, was inflicted for the last time in England in the month of
May, 1640.
Everything now depended on the event of the King's military operations
against the Scots. Among his troops there was little of that feeling
which separates professional soldiers from the mass of a nation and
attaches them to their leaders. His army, composed for the most part of
recruits, who regretted the plough from which they had been violently
taken, and who were imbued with the religious and political sentiments
then prevalent throughout the country, was more formidable to himself
than to the enemy. The Scots, encouraged by the heads of the English
opposition, and feebly resisted by the English forces, marched across
the Tweed and the Tyne, and encamped on the borders of Yorkshire. And
now the murmurs of discontent swelled into an uproar by which all
spirits save one were overawed. But the voice of Strafford was still for
Thorough; and he even, in this extremity, showed a nature so cruel and
despotic that his own pikemen were ready to tear him in pieces.
There was yet one last expedient which, as the King flattered himself,
might save him from the misery of facing another House of Commons. To
the House of Lords he was less averse. The bishops were devoted to him;
and though the temporal peers were generally dissatisfied with his
administration, they were, as a class, so deeply interested in the
maintenance of order and in the stability of ancient institutions that
they were not likely to call for extensive reforms. Departing from the
uninterrupted practice of centuries, he called a great council
consisting of lords alone. But the lords were too prudent to assume the
unconstitutional functions with which he wished to invest them. Without
money, without credit, without authority even in his own camp, he
yielded to the pressure of necessity.
In November, 1640, met that renowned Parliament which, in spite of many
errors and disasters, is justly entitled to the reverence and gratitude
of all who, in any part of the world, enjoy the blessings of
constitutional government.
During the year which followed, no very important division of opinion
appeared in the Houses. The civil and ecclesiastical administration had,
through a period of nearly twelve years, been so oppressive and so
unconstitutional that even those classes of which the inclinations are
generally on the side of order and authority were eager to promote
popular reforms and to bring the instruments of tyranny to justice. It
was enacted that no interval of more than three years should ever elapse
between Parliament and Parliament, and that, if writs under the great
seal were not issued at the proper time, the returning officers should,
without such writs, call the constituent bodies together for the choice
of representatives. The Star-chamber, the High Commission, the Council
of York were swept away. Men who, after suffering cruel mutilations, had
been confined in remote dungeons regained their liberty. On the chief
ministers of the crown the vengeance of the nation was unsparingly
wreaked. The lord keeper, the primate, the lord lieutenant were
impeached. Finch saved himself by flight. Laud was flung into the Tower.
Strafford was put to death, beheaded by act of attainder. On the day on
which this act passed, the King gave his assent to a law by which he
bound himself not to adjourn, prorogue, or dissolve the existing
Parliament without its own consent.
FOUNDING OF MONTREAL
A.D. 1642
ALFRED SANDHAM
The history of Montreal dates back to October, 1535, when
Jacques Cartier first landed on the island. An Indian village,
called Hochelaga, existed here at this time. Its outline was
circular; and it was encompassed by three rows of palisades, or
rather picket fences, one within the other, well secured and
put together. A single entrance was left in this rude
fortification, but guarded with pikes and stakes, and every
precaution taken against siege or attack. Cartier named the
place Mount Royal, from the elevation that rose in rear of the
site, a little way back from the river St. Lawrence. It first
began to be settled by Europeans in 1542, and exactly one
century afterward the spot destined for the city was, with due
solemnities, consecrated at the era of Maissoneuve and named
Ville Marie, a designation which it retained for a long period.
In 1760 it was taken by the English. Since then it has taken
great leaps in the way of progress until to-day it is the chief
commercial city in Canada and the largest city in the Dominion.
Montreal has the further advantage, in its natural situation,
of being at the head of ocean navigation. Its population
to-day, including suburbs, is in the neighborhood of 350,000.
On the death of Champlain (on December 25, 1635), M. de Montmagny was
appointed governor of New France; but so little attention was paid to
the wants of the colony that its prosperity was much retarded, the fur
trade alone being conducted with any spirit. But great vigor was
manifested in religious matters and several institutions were erected.
In 1630 the Hôtel Dieu, at Quebec, was founded by three nuns sent out by
the Duchesse d'Aiguillon, and Madame de la Peltrie brought out from
France at her own charge another body of nuns, who established the
Ursuline convent. The peopling and fortifying of the island of Montreal,
with the view of repressing the incursions of the Iroquois and the
conversion of the Indians, had occupied the entire attention of the
first missionaries, and in 1640 the whole of this domain was ceded to a
company for that purpose.
Jerome le Royer de la Dauversière, a collector of taxes at La Flêche, in
Anjou, and a young priest of Paris, Jean Jacques Olier by name, having
met each other, formed the idea of establishing at Montreal three
religious communities: one of priests to convert the Indians, one of
nuns to nurse the sick, and one of nuns to teach the children of the
Indians and of the colonists. It was an easy matter to talk over these
plans; but, in order to carry them out, they must first raise some
money. For this purpose Olier laid the matter before some of his wealthy
penitents, while Dauversière succeeded in securing the Baron de
Fanchamp, a devout Christian and a wealthy man, who, considering the
enterprise as one calculated to further his spiritual interests, was
eager to take part in it. Shortly afterward three others were secured,
and the six together formed the germ of the "Société de Notre Dame de
Montréal." Among them they raised seventy-five thousand livres.
Previous to this the island of Montreal had been granted to M. de
Lauson, a former president of the Company of One Hundred Associates, and
his son possessed the exclusive monopoly of the fisheries on the St.
Lawrence. After much persuasion Dauversière and Fanchamp succeeded in
securing from him a transfer of his title to them; and to make the
matter more secure they obtained, in addition, a grant of the island
from its former owners, the Hundred Associates. That company, however,
reserved the western extremity of the island for themselves, as a site
for a fort and stores. The younger Lauzon also gave Dauversière and his
company the right of fishery within two leagues of the shores of the
island, which favor they were to acknowledge by a yearly donation of ten
pounds of fish. These grants were afterward confirmed by the King, and
thus Dauversière and his companions became "Lords of the Isle of
Montreal."