[Sidenote: PROTESTANT OPPOSITION.]
The fall of the Earl of Danby is to be attributed to an artful
contrivance by the French Court; which, from revenge against him for
his real enmity, accomplished his ruin, by pretending that he was a
friend. By means of Montague--who laid before the House of Commons
despatches, written to him by the Minister, most unwillingly, but at
the King’s command--Louis XIV. established against Danby, charges
of intrigues with France for obtaining money, quite sufficient to
extinguish for ever all the credit which he had ever had with his own
countrymen. His plea of unwillingness to enter into his master’s policy
with regard to France, although true, proved inadequate to save him
from impeachment by the Commons, who acted upon the constitutional
principle--that the King’s Ministers are responsible for what they
perform in the King’s name. Danby, though made a victim of revenge,
and in truth, suffering “not on account of his delinquency, but on
account of his merits,” had put himself in such a false position, that
Parliament could do no otherwise than demand his removal from office.
How far the extreme step of impeachment can be justified is another
question; and, at all events, the charge of his being Popishly affected
is truly absurd. The accusation of his concealing the Popish plot,
of suppressing the evidence, and of discountenancing the witnesses,
could not be made even plausible, for though he had been sceptical at
first respecting the story told by Oates, as any sensible man might
well be, he had afterwards fully committed himself to the proceedings
against the accused Papists; yet perhaps there is some truth in an
amusing passage written by one who cherished strong prejudices against
him:--“The Earl of Danby thought he could serve himself of this plot
of Oates, and accordingly endeavoured at it; but it is plain that he
had no command of the engine, and instead of his sharing the popularity
of nursing it, he found himself so intrigued that it was like a wolf
by the ears: he could neither hold it nor let it go, and for certain
it bit him at last, just as when a barbarous mastiff attacks a man, he
cries ‘poor cur,’ and is pulled down at last.”[14]
The resolution of the Commons on the 19th of December, 1678, to impeach
the Lord Treasurer, was followed by a prorogation on the 30th, and a
dissolution on the 24th of January, 1679; this Parliament having then
sat for the long space of eighteen years.
[Sidenote: 1679.]
The King immediately summoned a new Parliament, to meet at the end of
forty days; and again, as in 1661, a general election took place under
circumstances of immense excitement. Protestants believed the cause of
the Reformation to be in imminent danger from the Popish tendencies
of the King, from the avowed Romanism of the Duke of York, from the
intrigues of France, and from the want of principle in public men.
Therefore, multitudes rushed to the poll with the idea, that only
by voting for unmistakable and zealous Protestants, could they save
England from being dragged back to the condition in which she was
found before the Reformation. Thousands of horsemen rode into cities
and county towns to record their names in favour of the Established
Church. People had to sleep in market-places, to lie like sheep around
market crosses.[15] Candidates were chaired at midnight with the bray
of trumpets and a blaze of torches; but with all this Protestant
enthusiasm, elections could not be carried without bribery, treating,
and corruption. Horses were demanded in proportion to the number of
electors; there occurred an enormous consumption of beer, bread, and
cakes at Norwich; and as for the Knight of the Shire of Surrey, “they
ate and drank him out near to £2,000, by a most abominable custom.”[16]
Popular candidates pledged to oppose the Court against Popery succeeded
almost everywhere.
Scarcely had the shouts which hailed these returns died away, when a
remarkable interview took place between certain dignitaries of the
Church and the Popish heir to the throne.
As the Duke of York’s religious opinions had increasingly attracted the
attention and excited the alarm of the nation at large, the rulers of
the Church shared in the anxiety, and were very desirous, if possible,
to see him reclaimed from the Roman communion. The origin of a project,
with the view of accomplishing this purpose, is ascribed to the new
Archbishop of Canterbury.
[Sidenote: PROTESTANT OPPOSITION.]
Upon the death of Sheldon, William Sancroft, at the time Prolocutor
to the Lower House of Convocation, was elevated to the primacy, for
reasons differently stated by different persons. Probably, in this
case, the reason is to be found in his unambitious spirit and in his
amiable disposition, as suggested by Dryden:
“Zadoc the priest, whom, shunning power and place,
His lowly mind advanced to David’s grace.”
If it was supposed that he would become the pliant tool of the Monarch;
events at the Revolution contradicted the idea, and the circumstances
now to be described show that the Archbishop, after his exaltation,
determined to act as a zealous Protestant. He, with his aged brother,
Morley, of Winchester, and not without the consent of the King,
obtained an audience from His Royal Highness, and delivered to him
an address on the subject of reconversion. Sancroft spoke of the
Church of England as most afflicted, a lily amongst thorns, bearing
on her body the marks of the Lord Jesus--the scars of old, and the
impressions of new wounds. But the greatest amongst the multitude of
her sorrows was, the speaker said, that the Duke should forsake her
fellowship, after the education which he had received, and after the
solemn charge which his dying father gave his elder brother, touching
the duty of everlasting fidelity to the Established Church. The Duke
was described by the Primate as the bright morning and evening star,
which arose and set with the sun, but he had withdrawn his light; and
now the two Bishops, who had undertaken to plead with him in the cause
of Protestantism, assured His Royal Highness of their intercessions on
his behalf, and asked whether, with his noble and generous heart, he
would throw back these prayers? They inquired, if those to whom he had
surrendered himself, had not renounced reason and common sense, and
really taught him to put out his own eyes, that they might lead him
whither they would? His case did not seem hopeful to his Protestant
advisers, yet they declared that they had too good an opinion of his
understanding, to believe that he would sell himself at so cheap a
rate. Nothing of such moment as religion was to be huddled up in a
dark and implicit manner. It was his duty to “prove all things, and
hold fast that which is good.” The prelates offered their assistance,
referred to plain texts and obvious facts “in a hundred books,” and
then concluded their address with this syllogism: “That Church which
teacheth and practiseth the doctrines destructive of salvation is
to be relinquished. But the Church of Rome teacheth and practiseth
doctrines destructive of salvation. Therefore the Church of Rome is to
be relinquished.”[17]
[Sidenote: 1679.]
This speech, in which compliments and reproofs oddly struggle with each
other, and which ends with a logical formula, perfectly impotent under
the circumstances, bears upon it traces of Sancroft’s ornate but feeble
style of thought and expression. It produced no effect; and the Royal
auditor, after saying that it would be presumptuous, in an illiterate
man like himself, to enter into controversial disputes with persons of
learning, politely dismissed the Bishops, pleading that the pressure
of business prevented further discussion.[18] The strain of remark on
the one side, the mode of reply on the other, and the interchange of
courtesies between the two parties, present a striking contrast to the
conversations between John Knox and the Duke’s great-grandmother. The
Archbishop of Canterbury appears much more amiable than the Scotch
Presbyterian Reformer; and James is much more prudent than Mary Queen
of Scots: but how tame and lifeless appears all the smooth eloquence
of the Primate, compared with the burning words of the Elijah-like
Presbyterian; and how unimpressible is the saturnine Prince, compared
with the modern Jezebel, who wept and stormed at Holyrood.
[Sidenote: SANCROFT.]
No doubt can exist of Sancroft’s sincere opposition to Popery. Wilkins,
in his _Concilia_, gives, in addition to Royal proclamations on
that subject, a letter written by the Primate to the Bishop of London,
dated April 9, 1681, in which he requires that the three canons against
Popish recusants, agreed upon in the Synod of London in 1605, namely,
the 65th, the 66th, and the 114th, should be put in use, considering,
he says, in language then so current on that topic, “how acceptable
a service it will be to Almighty God, to assist His Majesty’s pious
purpose herein; and, on the other side, how severe a punishment, the
last canon of the three appoints, to those who shall neglect their duty
herein.”[19] It is remarkable, that after the death of Sheldon, we
find in Wilkins, no more documents enforcing the execution of the laws
against Nonconformists; an omission which indicates the very different
disposition of the new occupant of the see, from that which had been
manifested by his predecessor.
[Sidenote: 1678–80.]
In the affairs of his own Church, Sancroft endeavoured to effect some
useful reforms and improvements. Considerable laxity prevailed in the
admission of candidates to holy orders, testimonials to character
being often signed as a mere form, without sufficient knowledge of
the persons in whose favour they were given. To check this injurious
practice, Sancroft, in the month of August, 1678,[20] sent directions
to his suffragans, that thenceforth such recommendations should be
more carefully prepared, should contain fuller particulars, and
should be more cautiously used. The poverty of vicarages, and other
small ecclesiastical benefices, still continued: the augmentation of
them was an old remedy, the failure of schemes for the purpose an old
disappointment. Even the Act in relation to this matter in 1676, had
been carried into only partial execution; and, therefore, many of the
difficulties, so long complained of by the clergy, still remained.
Consequently, Sancroft, in the year 1680, sent an appeal to the Bishops
of his province, urging strongly the application of the Act; and
requiring every Bishop, Dean, and Archdeacon to send particulars of
all the augmentations made by them or their predecessors.[21] What he
recommended to others he practised himself, for he liberally improved
many of the livings in his gift. The chronic disease of the Church
forced itself on the Archbishop’s attention: many unsuitable persons
being appointed to benefices, and private advantage taking precedence
of public welfare, among the motives deciding the administration
of patronage. As a cure to some extent, Charles issued a warrant,
constituting the Archbishop, the Bishop of London, and four laymen
proper and competent judges of men deserving to be preferred, and
forbidding the Secretary of State to apply to the Royal fountain of
favour, for the bestowment of ecclesiastical preferments, without first
communicating with this council of reference.[22] What share Sancroft
had in the origin or the execution of the plan we do not know; but
the object was one which, from what we learn of his character, would
commend itself to his judgment. The practice of simony continued,
and an Archdeacon of Lincoln, convicted of that offence in the
ecclesiastical court, petitioned the King for pardon;--upon the
petition being referred to Sancroft, he replied that the crime of
which the man had been convicted, was “a pestilence that walketh in
darkness,” and that if he were saved from punishment, the markets of
Simon Magus would be more frequented than ever.[23]
[Sidenote: TEMPLE.]
After the impeachment and imprisonment of the Earl of Danby, in spite
of Royal endeavours to screen him, His Majesty being then left without
an adviser, sent for Sir William Temple, and appointed him Secretary
of State, in the room of Coventry. This ingenious politician proposed,
that there should be a Council, consisting of thirty members, fifteen
of them to be Officers of State, chosen by the King; the other
fifteen, popular leaders of the two Houses. The idea was, to blend
the Government and the Opposition together, or, rather, to prevent
the existence of any opposition at all.[24] The Council of statesmen
formed on this model included, on the one hand, Essex, Sunderland,
and Halifax--men attached to Court interests, in favour with the
King, and suspected by the people; and on the other hand, the Earl
of Shaftesbury, a leading spirit of the old Cabal, now an extreme
opponent of the Court policy, and Lord William Russell, an eminently
zealous Protestant, and popular Member of the House of Commons. The
last two names are interwoven from the beginning, with the popular plan
for setting aside the Duke of York--the first three Ministers being
entirely opposed to it, and advocating the legitimate succession, with
certain safeguards for the protection of Protestantism. This division
of opinion in the Council reflected and magnified itself in the
divisions of Parliament.
[Sidenote: 1679.]
Parliament met in March. The King and such Ministers as agreed with
him, proposed terms of compromise in reference to the succession.
The Chancellor, in April, stated that His Majesty was willing to
distinguish a Popish from a Protestant successor; and so to limit the
authority of the latter in reference to the Church, that all benefices
in the gift of the Crown should be conferred in such a manner as to
ensure the appointment of pious and learned Protestants.[25] Other
restrictions of a political kind were proposed, which, as Charles said,
would “pare the nails” of a Popish King.
The Exclusion Bill was carried by the Commons in the month of May, but
the effect was neutralized by a sudden prorogation of Parliament before
the month had expired.[26] Parliament being dissolved by proclamation
on the 12th of July, a new one was called for the following October.
[Sidenote: DANGERFIELD’S PLOT.]
The fourth Parliament of Charles II. met in October, 1679, and, after
repeated prorogation, assembled for the despatch of business in
October, 1680. Another informer just at that time rose to notoriety,
whose name deserves to be coupled with that of Oates. Dangerfield is
represented as a handsome young man, whom profligacy and debt brought
within the walls of Newgate, where he was visited by a Roman Catholic
woman named Cellier, one “who had a great share of wit, and was
abandoned to lewdness.”[27] The man professed to become a convert to
her religion, and, through the influence of his new friend with persons
at Court, obtained an introduction to the Duke of York, into whose ears
he poured tales of treason. This time a plot was attributed to the
Presbyterians, who, according to Dangerfield, were raising forces to
overthrow the Government. James gave the man twenty guineas; Charles
ordered an additional reward of forty. The adventurer, finding his
trade so gainful, determined to push his object further. He lodged an
information at the Custom House against Colonel Mansel, a Presbyterian,
whom he charged with being the quarter-master of the army of revolt;
but the revenue officers, on searching his house, found not what they
expected, but only a bundle of papers behind the bed. The papers
were plainly treasonable; not less plainly did they bear signs of
forgery. The accused traced home the infamous trick to the unprincipled
informer. Dangerfield, once more committed to Newgate, not for debt,
but for something worse, now changed his story, and declared that, at
the instigation of Cellier and Lady Powis, who had become mixed up in
the affair, he had engaged in a sham plot, as a cover for a real one.
Though no Presbyterian conspiracy existed, there was, he affirmed, a
Popish one, and a proof of the former being a fiction might be obtained
from a bundle of papers secreted in a meal tub. The meal was searched,
the papers were found; they demonstrated the artifice, and the trumpery
contrivance has gained a place in history under the title of the “Meal
Tub Plot.” Powis and Cellier were now, in their turn, imprisoned.
The grand jury ignored the bill against the former, and the latter
obtained an acquittal at the Old Bailey. Dangerfield received a pardon;
yet, though all three at the time escaped the penalties of the law,
Dangerfield subsequently received a cruel whipping for the crime of
perjury.[28] This miserable creature has been represented either as a
tool employed by the Catholics to retaliate upon the friends of Titus
Oates, or as a tool employed by the friends of Titus Oates to decoy
Catholics into an attempt at injuring the Presbyterians. The former is
the Protestant, the latter the Catholic hypothesis. Neither of them
seems satisfactory; the latter is almost incredible. At all events,
every reader must see that tissues of lies were woven in those days as
unaccountably and as plentifully as spiders’ webs in autumn nights.
[Sidenote: 1680.]
Whilst these plots were common talk, and indignation against Romanism
was fomented in a thousand ways, the Corporation of Bristol made the
following presentment:--
[Sidenote: EXCLUSION BILL.]
We lament that “at this time more heats and animosities should be
fomented among us, than hath been since His Majesty’s most happy
restoration, which gives us just cause to suspect, however such men
cover themselves under the umbrage of zeal and religion, that they are
influenced by Jesuitical principles. For the Jesuits have not a fairer
prospect of bringing us under the tyranny of Rome, than by continuing
and carrying on of differences among ourselves. _Divide et impera_
is their maxim. From this evil spirit and principle this city hath been
represented as ill inclined to His Majesty’s person and Government,
our worthy mayor, a person of unquestionable loyalty to the King, and
of exemplary zeal for the Church, [being] traduced as fanatically
disposed, and all those true sons of the Church of England who have any
moderation towards Dissenting Protestants, to be more dangerous to the
Church than the Papists themselves, when we cannot but think that a
hearty union among all Protestants is now more than ever necessary to
preserve us from our open and avowed enemy.”[29]
Union amongst Protestants at such a time seemed to be dictated by
reason and policy, but Churchmen who looked with neighbourly kindness
upon Nonconformists were apt to be suspected of laxity of principle and
a want of zeal; and the very paper from which I have given an extract
is endorsed as a “seditious presentment.”
[Sidenote: 1680.]
In the month of October, the Exclusion Bill reappeared and passed,
all the argument and eloquence of the members from day to day,
through long sittings, being devoted to this question. Interwoven
with the debate from beginning to end, like dark threads in shot
silk, are references to the recent Popish plot and its attendant
circumstances. Whilst treated as a legal and political question,[30]
its ecclesiastical bearings were most prominent and most vital, in the
estimation of zealous Protestants both within and outside the walls
of Parliament.[31] The central point in this controversy, whatever
might be its political relations, and however it might be mixed up
with party interests, was of a religious nature. Had the Church not
been united with the State, had all Christian congregations been left
to their own resources, and been exempt from Government control,
the case would have been very different, though even then religious
considerations would have certainly become mixed up with the question;
but, as it was, with such an interlacing between things political and
things ecclesiastical, with the King as supreme temporal Ruler of the
Church, and Defender of the Faith, to have a Roman Catholic placed in
that position justly appeared to Protestants not merely as inexpedient,
but as totally unreasonable and absurd. The ecclesiastical argument
formed the stronghold of the exclusion policy, and its opponents
could by no sophistry overturn it. Still they had much to say. They
praised the Duke as a man of ability, who had fulfilled important naval
duties, and deserved well of his country. The attempt to set such a
man aside, a man with so much decision of purpose, and with so many
friends, they contended, would incur the risk of plunging Great Britain
into another civil war. And beyond all personal and national reasons
against his exclusion, they took the high ground--so dear to the Stuart
race--of the Divine right of kings, and denounced the attempt to
deprive the heir apparent of his crown as nothing short of robbery and
wickedness.[32]
[Sidenote: EXCLUSION BILL.]
The Bill carried in the House of Commons met an adverse fate in the
House of Lords. Shaftesbury did his utmost for its support, and the
Country party amongst the peers gallantly rallied around him, but after
a telling speech from the Earl of Halifax, the measure was defeated by
63 against 30. The division took place at the then late hour of eleven
o’clock at night, the King being present, and the whole being described
as “one of the greatest days ever known in the House of Lords.”[33]
In the large majority against the second reading, appeared no less
than fourteen Bishops, who, for the course they adopted, were charged
with tearing “out the bowels of their Mother the Church.” They upheld
the doctrine of Divine right, in opposition to the Protestant zeal
of the day, which looked in a different direction, and they thought
that limitations, such as the King and the Court party were willing to
impose upon the legitimate successor to the crown, would suffice to
preserve the Reformed Church in its integrity and its supremacy.