Charles returned from the North improved in spirits, fancying he
had made a favourable impression upon his Scottish subjects, and
pondering sanguine schemes for crushing the power of Pym, and of all
the patriots. The reaction towards the close of the summer of 1641,
which we have already described, was decidedly in his favour--and there
seemed room to expect that Parliament, after the course which the King
now seemed disposed to pursue, might, in its eagerness for victory,
place itself altogether in a false position.
During his stay in Edinburgh, he had been anxious to fill up
certain vacant bishoprics, but delayed doing so at the request of
Parliament. Soon after his return, he made Williams,--then Bishop of
Lincoln,--Archbishop of York; and appointed Dr. Winniffe to succeed
Williams. Dr. Duppa was translated from Chichester to Salisbury; King,
Dean of Rochester, was promoted to Chichester; Hall had the See of
Norwich presented to him in the room of Exeter; where he was followed
by Brownrigg, who had been Master of Catherine Hall, Cambridge; Skinner
went from Bristol to Oxford; Westfield had the former See conferred on
him, and Ussher received the Bishopric of Carlisle _in commendam_. A
conciliatory temper appeared in the episcopal arrangements thus made
by His Majesty, inasmuch as all the prelates whom he now appointed and
advanced were popular men, and were well esteemed by the Puritan party.
[Sidenote: _The King's Reception._]
Charles, on his arrival in town on the 25th of November, received a
welcome which vied in splendour with the renowned receptions given to
our Edwards and Henries. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen in their robes;
citizens in velvet coats; and noblemen richly apparelled, with a goodly
array of trumpeters, pursuivants, equerries, and sheriffs' men, wearing
scarlet coats, and silver-laced hats crowned with feathers, marched
to meet the Royal party at Moorgate, whence they proceeded--the King
on horseback, the Queen in her richly embroidered coach,--by way of
Bishopsgate, Cornhill, and Cheapside, to Guildhall; the streets being
lined by the livery companies, and adorned with banners, ensigns, and
pendants of arms. The conduits in Cheapside ran with claret, and along
the line of procession the people shouted "God bless, and long live
King Charles, and Queen Mary."[231] A grand banquet followed on the
hustings of the Old City Hall; the floor being covered with Turkey
carpets, and the walls hung with rich tapestry. Their majesties sat
in chairs of state, under a grand canopy, and the royal table was
covered with "all sorts of fish, fowl, and flesh, to the number of
120 dishes, of the choicest kinds," with "sweetmeats and confections,
wet and dry." After a short repose, at about four o'clock, the Royal
party advanced towards Whitehall; and as the evening shadows fell upon
the spectacle, the footmen exchanged their truncheons for flambeaux,
"which gave so great a light, as that the night seemed to be turned
into day." Trumpets, bands of music, and the acclamations of the
people,--according to the chroniclers--made the streets ring again.[232]
[Sidenote: 1641, November.]
This exhibition so artistically contrived, which had been a subject
of much correspondence with the King, as well as of deliberation on
the part of the citizens, had a no less religious than political
significancy. A year before, Presbyterians and Sectaries had made
themselves conspicuous by "Root and Branch petitions," and since then,
their activity had not declined, or their numbers diminished. On the
contrary, the sectaries had increased, and had given alarming signs of
zeal, in purifying certain Churches from the abominations of idolatry,
and in organizing ecclesiastical societies of their own quite apart
from the establishment.
In this state of things, the conservative portion of the corporation,
and the citizens who sympathized with them, had, for the purpose of a
party demonstration, elected a Lord Mayor who was a decided Royalist
and a High Churchman. "The factious persons," remarks Sir Edward
Nicholas, writing on this subject to the King, "were making a noise,
and would not proceed to the election, when the sheriff proposed
Alderman Gourney (who I hear is very well-affected and stout) and
carried it; and the schismatics who cried 'no election,' were silenced
with hisses, and thereupon the Sheriff dismissed the Court."[233] This
victory equally gratified Sir Edward and his master, and placed at
the head of the costly civic reception, a gentleman in whom the King
had the fullest confidence. More indeed was intended, both of loyal
and religious demonstration, by the party who now took the lead in
the City, than they were able to accomplish. A present of money and
an address in favour of Episcopacy had been proposed, but without
success.[234] Notwithstanding, the King took care, in answer to the
address of the recorder and corporation--as they stood by Moorgate,
bare-headed,--to assure them of his determination, at the hazard of
his life and of all that was dear to him, to maintain and protect the
Protestant religion, as it had been established by his two famous
predecessors, Queen Elizabeth and his father King James.
[Sidenote: _The King's Reception._]
Some significancy is to be attached to a little display at the south
door of St. Paul's Cathedral, where "the quire in their surplices,
with sackbuts, and cornets, sung an anthem of praise to God, with
prayers for their Majesties' long lives, that his Majesty was extremely
pleased with it, and gave them very particular thanks."[235] For
unobjectionable as this kind of music might now-a-days appear even
to a staunch nonconformist, it had a look, at that period, of stern,
jealous, and watchful controversy, very obvious and very annoying to
presbyterians and "sectaries;" so that, altogether, this City affair
became a decided success for the King and the Church party, and as
such, Royalists and Anglicans greatly rejoiced in it.
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
"Londoners are a set of disaffected schismatics, bent upon upsetting
the godly order of things which they received from their fathers,"
was the opinion of many a country knight and yeoman, as he turned his
attention to the metropolis, and thought of the current stories of the
day. "No," said one, who sympathized with the Court, in a letter he
wrote to a friend just at that time, "you much mistake, if you think
that those insolent and seditious meetings of sectaries, and others
ill affected, who have lately been at the Parliament House, to cry for
justice against the delinquent bishops, are the representative body of
the city. They are not. The representative body of the city is the Lord
Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council, who gave the entertainment to the
King, and will stick to him to live and die in his service. As for the
rest, when the House of Commons please to give laws to suppress them,
we shall quickly see an end of these distractions both in Church and
Commonwealth, and, therefore, I pray give no ill interpretation to our
actions."[236] These words show what capital the clique, to which the
writer belonged, was determined to make out of the grand pageant which
had just come off with so much _éclat_.
The King himself, who was disposed to construe the conduct of the
citizens as having a political and ecclesiastical signification, had
on the occasion of his entry, knighted the Lord Mayor and Recorder,
doubtless with a feeling which made it more than a formal ceremony. He
had also conferred a like honour, a few days afterwards, at Hampton
Court, upon certain Aldermen, who had come to thank him for accepting
their entertainment.
The reception of these civic dignitaries in the old palace of Cardinal
Wolsey occurred on the 3rd of December.[237] A very different kind of
audience had been held within the same walls two days before.
[Sidenote: _The Remonstrance._]
A committee for presenting the Remonstrance had been appointed by the
Commons, composed of persons not likely to be offensive to the King,
including Sir Edward Dering, who, in spite of his opposition to the
measure, was requested to read and present the document; but, when the
time came, he "being out of the way," Sir Ralph Hopton took his place.
The deputation started in the afternoon, and their object being well
understood by the populace, they would attract much attention, as they
travelled along under leafless trees, and a wintry sky, and drew up at
last before the old gates at Hampton Court. After they had waited a
quarter of an hour in the anteroom, the King sent a gentleman to call
them to his presence, with an order that no one besides the deputation
should be admitted. He received his "faithful Commons" with some
anxiety, but in addition to his other encouragements, at that moment
there remained the halo thrown round him by the late entry; and it
would not be forgotten by the monarch as the members knelt before him,
that the Remonstrance which they brought--(as obnoxious to royalty as
it was dear to the patriots)--had been after all carried only by a
scant majority. Sir Ralph Hopton, who headed the deputation, commenced
reading the document on his bended knees, when his Majesty commanded
all the members to rise: and as soon as that passage was reached, which
alluded to the desire of the malignants to change the religion of the
country, the King exclaimed, "The devil take him, whomsoever he be,
that had a design to change religion." Upon reference to the disposal
of the estates of the Irish rebels, he added, "We must not dispose of
the bear's skin till he be dead." His Majesty proceeding to put some
questions, the wary members replied, "We had no commission to speak any
thing concerning this business." "Doth the House intend to publish this
declaration?" Charles afterwards asked--thus touching the core of the
matter. "We can give no answer," persisted the reticent diplomatists.
"Well then," he rejoined, "I suppose you do not now expect an answer
to so long a petition." A very reasonable remark, looking at the two
hundred and more clauses which the petition contained.[238] When the
answer did come, it included this carefully-worded paragraph:--
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
"Unto that clause which concerneth corruptions (as you style them) in
religion, in Church government, and in discipline, and the removing of
such unnecessary ceremonies as weak consciences might check, that for
any illegal innovations, which may have crept in, we shall willingly
concur in the removal of them. That if our Parliament shall advise us
to call a national synod, which may duly examine such ceremonies as
give just cause of offence to any, we shall take it into consideration,
and apply ourself to give due satisfaction therein, but we are very
sorry to hear in such general terms, corruption in religion objected,
since we are persuaded in our conscience, that no church can be found
upon the earth that professeth the true religion with more purity of
doctrine than the Church of England doth; nor where the government and
discipline are jointly more beautified, and free from superstition,
than as they are here established by law; which by the grace of God, we
will with constancy maintain (while we live) in their purity and glory,
not only against all invasions of popery, but also from the irreverence
of those many schismatics and separatists, wherewith of late this
kingdom and this city abound, to the great dishonour and hazard both of
Church and State, for the suppression of whom we require your timely
aid and active assistance."[239]
[Sidenote: _Arrest of the Five Members._]
After the Remonstrance had been presented, affairs remained hopeful to
the Royal eye; and as the Commons had issued their ordinance touching
religious worship, the King on the 10th of December published one of
his own, enjoining strict conformity to the form of divine service as
by law established. But whatever advantages he might possess at the
close of 1641, all were forfeited by the monstrously rash attempt to
arrest the five members at the beginning of 1642. That fatal act rung
the death-knell of his hopes throughout the country, startling at
once friends and foes. A letter by Captain Robert Slingsby to Admiral
Pennington gives a Royalist version of the affair, which happened on
the 4th of January.
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
"All parts of the court being thronged with gentlemen and officers
of the army, in the afternoon the King went with them all, his own
guard and the pensioners, most of the gentlemen armed with swords and
pistols. When we came into Westminster Hall, which was thronged with
the number, the King commanded us all to stay there; and himself, with
a very small train, went into the House of Commons, where never king
was (as they say), but once, King Henry VIII." The writer, who remained
in the lobby, then proceeds to report what occurred inside the House;
depending for his information, it appears, on some member, from whose
lips he had eagerly caught up the following account:--"He came very
unexpectedly; and at first coming in commanded the Speaker to come
out of his chair, and sat down in it himself, asking divers times,
whether those traitors were there, but had no answer; but at last an
excuse, that by the orders of the House, they might not speak when
their Speaker was out of his chair. The King then asked the Speaker,
who excused himself, that he might not speak but what the House gave
order to him to say, whereupon the King replied, 'it was no matter, for
he knew them all if he saw them.' And after he had viewed them all,
he made a speech to them very majestically, declaring his resolution
to have them, though they were then absent; promising not to infringe
any of their liberties of Parliament, but commanding them to send the
traitors to him, if they came there again. And after his coming out,
he gave orders to the Serjeant-at-arms to find them out and attach
them. Before the King's coming, the House were very high; and (as I
was informed), sent to the city for four thousand men to be presently
sent down to them for their guard: but none came, all the city being
terribly amazed with that unexpected charge of those persons; shops all
shut, many of which do still continue so. They likewise sent to the
trained bands in the Court of Guard, before Whitehall, to command them
to disband, but they stayed still."
[Sidenote: _Arrest of the Five Members._]
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
The same correspondent then relates what he had himself witnessed in
London. "Yesterday it was my fortune, being in a coach, to meet the
King with a small train going into the City; whereupon I followed him
to Guildhall, where the Mayor, all the Aldermen, and Common Council
were met. The King made a speech to them, declaring his intention to
join with the Parliament in extirpation of popery and all schisms and
sectaries; of redressing of all grievances of the subject, and his
care to preserve the privileges of the Parliament: but to question
these traitors, the reason of his guards for securing himself, the
Parliament, and them from those late tumults, and something of the
Irish; and at last had some familiar discourse to the Aldermen, and
invited himself to dinner to the Sheriff. After a little pause a cry
was set up amongst the Common Council, 'Parliament, privileges of
Parliament;' and presently another, 'God bless the King'--these two
continued both at once a good while. I know not which was louder.
After some knocking for silence, the King commanded one to speak, if
they had anything to say; one said, 'It is the vote of this Court
that your Majesty hear the advice of your Parliament'--but presently
another answered--'It is not the vote of this Court, it is your own
vote.' The King replied, 'Who is it that says, I do not take the
advice of my Parliament? I do take their advice, and will; but I must
distinguish between the Parliament and some traitors in it;' and those
he would bring to legal trial. Another bold fellow, in the lowest rank,
stood up upon a form, and cried, 'The privileges of Parliament;' and
another cried out, 'Observe the man, apprehend him.' The King mildly
replied, 'I have, and will observe all privileges of Parliament, but no
privileges can prevent a traitor from a legal trial'--and so departed.
In the outer hall were a multitude of the ruder people, who, as the
King went out, set up a great cry, 'The privileges of Parliament.' At
the King's coming home, there was a mean fellow came into the privy
chamber, who had a paper sealed up, which he would needs deliver to
the King himself--with his much importunity he was urged to be mad or
drunk, but he denied both. The gentleman usher took the paper from him
and carried it to the King, desiring some gentleman there to keep the
man. He was presently sent for in, and is kept a prisoner, but I know
not where."[240] The arrest, which with its accompanying circumstances
is vividly brought before us in this letter by Slingsby, was a fatal
crisis in the history of Charles I. He thought by one stroke of policy
to crush his enemies, but the avenging deities, shod in felt, were
turning round on the infatuated prince, who could not perceive his own
danger, but was in a fool's paradise, dreaming of restored absolutism.
The liberties of the country having now become more obviously, perhaps
more completely, than before, imperilled by the sovereign's misconduct,
the national indignation was immediately aroused; and whatever Anglican
and Royalist reaction might have set in from Michaelmas to Christmas,
the tide turned, and furiously rushed in the opposite direction after
New Year's Day. Such a defiance of the Constitution by the King, such a
manifestation of despotism, after promising to rule according to law,
left no doubt as to his character, his principles, and his motives.
[Sidenote: _Westminster Riots._]
The arrest was interpreted as an assault upon the interests of
Puritanism, no less than upon the liberties of the nation; because the
one cause had become identified with the other, and the friends of
reformation in the Established Church, and the separatists who stood
outside of it, saw that their hopes would be entirely cut off if the
King were permitted to re-establish his despotic rule, or if he were
allowed to perpetrate with impunity such a political crime as the
arrest involved.
Other circumstances had helped forward the political reaction in favour
of the Puritan cause. Not only had the popular dislike to Bishops
continued in London, Southwark, and Lambeth, in spite of all which
might appear to the contrary in the civic doings on the King's return,
but the revived spirit of ecclesiastical conservation roused afresh
the spirit of ecclesiastical revolution. After petitions had flowed
in from different parts of the country in favour of Episcopacy, the
Aldermen,[241] Common Council, and other inhabitants of London, went
down to Westminster in sixty coaches, carrying a counter petition for
removing prelates and popish peers from their seats in Parliament.
Crowds also assembled on Blackheath for a similar purpose; and the
Puritan clergy of London again addressed the House, for taking
away whatever should appear to be the cause of those grievances
which remained in existence.[242] The Prayer Book--said these
ministers--continued to be vexatiously enforced, and what remedy, asked
they, for this and other evils could there be but the debate of a free
synod, and till that was held some relaxation on matters of ceremony?
The London apprentices at such a time could not be quiet, and impelled
by their own zeal, and perhaps also guided by their masters' commands,
they in large numbers put their hands to a farther "Root and Branch"
petition.
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
Every day the lobbies of the Houses were thronged by people eagerly
watching the fate of the documents which expressed their opinions.
Every day the area of Westminster Hall echoed with the tramp of
jostling crowds and the loud buzz of angry talk touching Church and
Bishops. Episcopalians came face to face with Puritans and Separatists.
Staid and sober citizens anxious for reform, were elbowed by rollicking
country squires, who wished to see things restored to the state in
which they had been in the days of Lord Strafford. Cavaliers, full of
pride and state, crossed the path of patriots whom they denounced as
the enemies of their country. Soldiers, with swords by their side,
marched up and down amidst the rabble, who carried staves or clubs.
Roistering apprentices, with idlers and vagabonds of all descriptions,
putting on a semblance of religious zeal, shouted at the top of their
voice favourite watchwords as they went along, and delighted in all
sorts of mischief.[243]
[Sidenote: _Westminster Riots._]
December the 27th, being the Monday after Christmas Day, Colonel
Lunsford, just appointed Lieutenant of the Tower--much to the
disquietude of the Londoners, who denounced him as a Papist, and as
being on that account utterly unfit for such a trust--came into the
Hall; when some of the citizens beginning to abuse him, he and his
companions drew their swords. The same day, Archbishop Williams walked
towards the House of Peers with the Earl of Dover, when an apprentice
lad, seeing his Grace, vociferated the popular cry of "No Bishop."
This so aroused the Welshman's ire, that, leaving his noble friend,
he rushed toward the vulgar urchin, and laid hands on him. This
unbecoming act,--for "a Bishop should be no striker,"--made the wrath
of the populace boil up afresh; and hemming in the prelate so that
he could not stir, they continued shouting in his ears, "No Bishop,"
"No Bishop:" until they proceeded to an act of violence, and tore his
gown "as he passed from the stairhead into the entry that leads to
the Lords' House."[244] It is also stated that he was beaten by the
prentices. A blustering "reformado," named David Hide, mingled in
the fray, and looking savagely on the apprentices with their cropped
hair, declared that he would cut the throats of "those round-headed
dogs that bawled against bishops."[245] "Round-headed,"--the words so
aptly fitted to the London lads--took with the Cavalier gentlemen;
they forthwith applied it to the whole Puritan party, and so David
Hide's impromptu became Court slang, and rose into the dignity of a
world-known appellation.
The next day, certain people in the Abbey, who said that they were
tarrying there a little while for some friends, who had just brought up
a petition, but who were charged with coming to commit depredations
in the sacred edifice, were attacked by the retainers of Archbishop
Williams--who continued Dean of Westminster--and a sort of siege and
assault followed. Amidst the riot and uproar several persons were
hurt, and a stone thrown from the battlements[246] fatally injured Sir
Richard Wiseman, who appeared conspicuous amongst the anti-episcopal
citizens.
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
[Sidenote: _Westminster Riots._]
On Wednesday, the 29th, between three and four o'clock in the
afternoon, when "the scum of the people[247]" had floated down to
Westminster, there occurred a disturbance which, in a confused way,
is apparent in the records of the period, but which becomes more
luminous when examined in the light of the depositions of witnesses,
still preserved amongst the State papers.[248] The tumult seems to
have commenced by Whitehall Gate. Some military gentlemen were walking
"within the rails," in the direction of Charing Cross. The difficulty
is to make out who commenced the quarrel. One deponent says, the
apprentices called the "red coats a knot of Papists," meaning, of
course, the Royalist officers. Another declared, the gentlemen within
the rails cried, "If they were the soldiers they would charge the mob
with pikes and shoot them." Thereupon--so it was affirmed--the people
replied, "You had best do it, red coats," and threw at them clots of
dry dust. Then the cavalier swordsmen leaped over the rails, and, sword
in hand, dashed into the midst of the mob. Other gentlemen came out
of the Court gate and joined their friends; upon which the parties
fell to, pell-mell. One witness says, that he saw but one sword drawn
on the citizens' side, but he saw many of the citizens wounded by
the gentlemen. Another affirms, that one of the gentlemen received a
wound in the forehead. It is manifest that the disturbance was made
the very most of by each party, so as to reflect discredit upon the
opposite side: for in a letter written the next morning, the writer,
after recording how apprentices were wounded, and how they lost
their hats and cloaks, gravely states, "It is feared they will be at
Whitehall this day to the number of _ten thousand_." The City was in
an uproar on account of the outrage on the apprentices, and the Court
gentry were full of indignation at the abuse which the apprentices
had heaped on the Bishops. The High Church Lord Mayor and Sheriffs,
who rode about all night to preserve peace, had the City gates shut,
the watch set, and the trained-bands called out. By those of a
different class in politics this was thought quite unnecessary; as they
implicitly believed that the citizens would commit no act of violence
if the courtiers would but keep their swords in their scabbards. The
majority of the Commons, too, were jealous of interfering with those
whom they hailed as friends to reform; while the King, the Court, and
the Archbishop, exaggerated the disturbance, and were for coercing the
people as enemies of order. The whole story, as it appears from the
documents we have mentioned, indicates rudeness and insolence on the
part of the populace, but not any disposition in the first instance to
proceed to violence. Their opponents sought to bolster up their own
cause by highly-coloured reports of the uproar; the irritated pride and
hot revenge of a few royalist officers having really brought on the
bloodshed, to be followed by the blackest recrimination on the Puritan
side.[249] The squabble would be beneath our notice, were it not for
the consequences which followed it;[250] and for its significance as
illustrating the way in which religious questions became mixed up with
political ones, and how both, in some cases, sunk down to the most
vulgar level.
[Sidenote: _Protest of the Bishops._]
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
Bishop Hall relates, in connection with the riot, that in the afternoon
of the 28th of December, the Marquis of Hartford came up to the
Bishops' bench, and informed their lordships that they were in danger,
because the people were watching outside with torches, and would
look into every coach to discover them; he adds that a motion made
for their safety was received with smiles; and that some sought the
protection of certain peers, whilst others escaped home by "secret
and far-fetched passages."[251] From the same authority--corroborated
by other witnesses--we also learn, that Archbishop Williams, with the
cry of "No Bishop" ringing in his ears, with a still more unpleasant
recollection of the apprentice's attack, and also alarmed by the
Marquis of Hartford's story, determined to protest against this state
of things, not simply as a violation of his personal liberty, but as
a violation of the freedom and rights of the Upper House. We Bishops,
he argued, can no longer perform our Parliamentary duties if this be
the case, and without the bishops the House of Lords is a nullity in
the legislature. Upon this view being taken, twelve prelates, Williams
being one of the number, repaired to the "Jerusalem Chamber in the
Dean's lodgings"--that room which has witnessed so many ecclesiastical
discussions, and which is so linked to the fortunes of the Church of
England--and there drew up a protest against whatever should be done
during the absence of their order from the House of Lords.[252]
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
To this protest signatures were hastily procured. On the 27th, Williams
was assaulted; on the 29th, the protest reached the house of the Bishop
of Lichfield, between six and seven o'clock at night, he not having
heard of it before.[253]
The document had been drawn up without proper deliberation, and after
being signed, it was immediately presented to the King.[254] Much as
he might sympathize with the prelates, he had prudence enough now to
do nothing more than at once refer the matter to the House of Lords,
who, in their turn, invited the Commons to a conference on the subject.
The Lower House promptly resolved to impeach the prelates;--only one
member offering any opposition, and that simply on the ground that
he did not believe they were guilty of high treason, but were only
stark mad, and ought to be sent to Bedlam. Upon receiving a message,
notifying the impeachment, the Upper House immediately despatched Black
Rod to summon the accused Spiritual Lords to the bar, where they soon
appeared. The same night saw ten of the prelates safe in the Tower.[255]
[Sidenote: _Protest of the Bishops._]
[Sidenote: 1641, December.]
The protest produced an "immense sensation." Unpopular before with
the Puritans and the patriots, the bishops now became more unpopular
than ever, with the former, on account of their alleged pride and
arrogance; with the latter, on account of their esteeming themselves
essential to the integrity of Parliament; and with all, on account
of their obstinately obstructing the paths of reform. Still, the
party most in advance felt rather glad than otherwise at this act of
Episcopal imprudence, since it made the bench increasingly odious; and
therefore afforded another and still stronger argument for hastening
forward its overthrow.[256] Even Episcopalians blamed the protesters,
considering they had much hindered the cause they should have helped;
and Clarendon pronounces their proceedings to have been ill judged.
But an excuse has been offered, on the ground that the conduct of the
Bishops if not constitutional was chivalrous. It has been said, "To go
out in smoke and smother is but a mean way of coming to nothing."
"To creep and crawl to a misfortune is to suffer like an insect." "A
man ought to fall with dignity and honour, and keep his mind erect,
though his fortune happens to be crushed."[257] Without staying to ask
whether there be not concealed under this plea a spirit out of harmony
with the religion professed by the prelates, we may remark that no one
could have blamed them for courageously defending what they deemed
the rights of their order. They might justly have protested against
the tumultuous conduct of the people, and have sought protection in
attending the House; but to protest against what was done in the
Legislature during their absence was quite another thing, and appears
to have been as unconstitutional as any violence employed in order
to hinder their discharge of Parliamentary duties. An accusation of
treason, however, brought against them for their strange proceedings,
appears extravagant; although sufficient grounds existed for censure,
and the imposition perhaps of some kind of penalty: but the lawyers
were spared all trouble with reference to this subject by the abolition
of the Episcopal bench, and the political insignificance to which the
order had been reduced by their extreme unpopularity. The protesting
Bishops remained in confinement until the 5th of May following, when
they were dismissed on bail.[258]
[Illustration]