[Sidenote: 1687.]
The audacious zeal of James in the support of Popery reached its
climax in the summer of 1687. Monsignor Ferdinando D’Adda, described
by a Jesuit as a mere boy, a fine showy fop, to make love to the
ladies,[190] after having for some time privately acted as Papal
Nuncio, had, in the spring of this year, been publicly consecrated at
Whitehall, titular Archbishop of Amasia. He had immediately afterwards
been received in his archiepiscopal vestments by the Sovereign of
England, who, in the presence of the Court, prostrated himself before
the Italian prelate to receive his benediction. The prelate being thus
prepared by his new dignity, the King determined that he should be
publicly received as an ambassador from His Holiness; and he caused
arrangements to be accordingly made for his reception in that capacity
at Windsor Castle, on the 3rd of July. At the Whitehall reception
of the Archbishop, the Spanish Ambassador had warned James against
being priest-ridden, when the latter asked, “Is it not the usage in
Spain that Kings consult their Confessors?” “Yes, Sire,” replied the
Minister, “and hence it is that our affairs go so badly.” In prospect
of the Windsor ceremonial, the Duke of Somerset received orders to
be in attendance to introduce the dignitary. He begged to be excused,
lest compliance should be construed into a breach of law. “Do you not
know,” said James, “that I am above the law?” “Your Majesty may be,”
rejoined the Duke, “but I am not.” This nobleman being dismissed for
his frankness, people remarked in gossip, that a Duke of Somerset “had
put out the Pope, and now the Pope had put out the Duke.” “It would
have been more remarkable,” said Sir John Bramston, “if the Duke had
brought him in.”[191]
[Sidenote: PROMOTION OF ROMANISTS.]
These little incidents would have sufficed, under the circumstances, to
make prudent men pause, but they produced no effect upon the imprudent
King. When the day arrived, the Nuncio started from his lodgings in
Windsor, clothed in purple, with a gold crucifix hanging at his breast,
seated in a coach, accompanied by the Duke of Grafton and Sir Charles
Cotterel. He was preceded by Knight Marshal’s men on horseback, and
by twelve footmen--“their coats being all of a dark grey coloured
cloth, with white and purple lace.” Altogether the train consisted of
thirty-six carriages, with six horses each, two of the carriages being
filled with priests--but some were sent empty, to increase the pomp of
the procession; and amongst such equipages were those of the Bishops
of Durham and Chester. The party alighted in the outer court, and went
upstairs into St. George’s Hall, where the King and Queen, seated upon
two chairs under a canopy, received the Papal emissary with great
reverence. The effect upon the English people may be conjectured. Great
multitudes had been attracted by a show, such as had not been witnessed
until now, since the Accession of Elizabeth. Windsor overflowed, and
for want of room in inns and houses, people of quality had to sit in
their coaches almost all the day.[192] But they were shocked by the
spectacle; and the indignation of the inhabitants of the little town
upon the public celebration of mass in Wolsey’s Chapel rose to such a
height, that they riotously assailed the building, and left it in a
state of miserable dilapidation. The feeling thus expressed extended
over the country; Protestant anger almost everywhere arose, and James
himself, when too late, saw the extreme folly of his conduct. It might
be supposed that the Pontiff and the Papal Court would be delighted
to hear of the Nuncio’s pageant, yet this was not the case. At Rome
the proceedings met with condemnation. They accorded with the daring
policy of the Jesuits, who were masters at Court, but not with the more
cautious measures of the Papacy, at that time in collision with the
order which had proved such a prop to the Papal chair.
Innocent XI. refused to gratify James in a matter which he had much at
heart. James wished to procure a mitre for a Jesuit, named Petre, but
as the elevation of the dignitary to the Episcopate was contrary to the
rules of the Order, James sought for him a red hat. But neither mitre
nor hat could be obtained. The circumstance mortified the Monarch, and
it certainly appeared as a very ungrateful return for all his devotion
to the interests of Rome; but he resolved to give Petre a seat at the
Privy Council table, for which, indeed, he had designed the mitre or
the hat to serve as a preparation. He meant to pave the way to the
civil distinction of his Roman Catholic favourites, by first obtaining
for them ecclesiastical honours; and when the nation heard that a
Jesuit had been made a Privy Councillor, the wrath excited by the
public recognition of Archbishop D’Adda increased tenfold.
[Sidenote: 1687.]
Parliament had shown nothing like independence in reference to either
ecclesiastical or political affairs, and had resembled a French Bed of
Justice, convened to register Royal decrees; yet James dissolved it
on the 4th of July, the very day succeeding the Nuncio’s reception.
The despotic King now took affairs entirely into his own hands, and
speedily rushed headlong to destruction. Two events completed the
catastrophe--his attack upon the liberties of Cambridge and Oxford, and
his second Declaration of Indulgence. These events at the same instant
accomplished his own fall, and saved the Protestantism of England.
The law expressly provided, that none should be admitted to a Degree
in either University who did not take the Oath of Supremacy and the
Oath of Obedience. James had sent a mandate to Cambridge for Alban
Francis, a Benedictine monk, to be created Master of Arts, although the
monk was prevented by his religion from taking these oaths. Upon his
refusing to be sworn, the University authorities refused to obey the
mandate; consequently the High Commission summoned the two Chancellors
and the Senate to appear before them at Westminster, upon the 21st
of April. Dr. John Peachell, who then held the Vice-Chancellorship,
with eight representatives of the Senate, including Isaac Newton,
Fellow of Trinity, and Professor of Mathematics, answered the summons:
and on meeting the Board, were treated by Jeffreys, who presided
over the Commissioners, with an amount of insolence scarcely less
than that which he had exhibited at the trial of Richard Baxter. He
soundly rated Dr. Peachell; and when another more courageous person
attempted to speak, he cried out, “That young gentleman expects to be
Vice-Chancellor--when you are, Sir, you may speak, but till then it
will become you to forbear.” Peachell had to suffer the loss of his
office, and his emoluments, and the members of the Senate had to endure
the vulgar insults of the minion who dismissed them, exclaiming, “I
shall say to you what the Scripture says, and rather because most of
you are Divines: ‘Go your way and sin no more, lest a worse thing come
unto you.’”[193]
[Sidenote: PROMOTION OF ROMANISTS.]
[Sidenote: 1687.]
The proceedings at Oxford are still more remarkable. A vacancy occurred
in the highest office in Magdalen College. Notwithstanding the
vested power of the Fellows to choose a President, Royal letters of
nomination had been sometimes sent; and, as in deference to Royalty,
such letters of nomination had been accepted and obeyed, precedents
could be pleaded in this instance for the interference of the King.
He recommended Anthony Farmer, a man who laboured under the threefold
disqualification, of not being a moral character, of not being a
Protestant Churchman, and of neither being, nor ever having been, a
Fellow either of Magdalen or New College. The last circumstance, on
statutory grounds alone, sufficed to exclude this nominee. The Fellows,
of course, objected to him, and requested His Majesty to recommend
another person. The election had been fixed for the 13th of April.
The day arrived, without a further nomination from the Crown. At an
adjourned meeting on the 15th, no notice having been taken of their
request, the Fellows proceeded to make their election, and their choice
fell on Dr. John Hough, a person of high reputation, whose firmness
throughout the following troubles, have won for him a lasting renown.
In June the Fellows were summoned to appear before the Commission, at
Whitehall, to answer for what they had done. Jeffreys, the King’s evil
star--whose conduct, both on the Bench and at the Council Board, must
be pronounced one of the greatest curses, and whose appointment to the
custody of the Great Seal must be held as one of the greatest crimes
of this inglorious reign--badgered the deputation sent from Oxford
to represent the College, as he had before badgered the deputation
sent from Cambridge. “Who is this man?” he asked, as Dr. Fairfax
raised a question touching the validity of the Commission. “Pray, what
commission have you to be so impudent in Court? This man ought to be
kept in a dark room. Why do you suffer him without a guardian? Why did
not you bring him to me to beg him? Pray, let the officers seize him.”
Hough’s election was declared void, and Fairfax was suspended from his
Fellowship;[194] but the nomination of such a man as Farmer was too
outrageous to be pursued any further, even by the impudent despotism
which had already defied law and order to an intolerable extent.
[Sidenote: PROMOTION OF ROMANISTS.]
In August, James nominated to the Presidency of Magdalen, Parker,
Bishop of Oxford, with whose character the reader is already
acquainted. His unpopularity with Protestants had now been increased
by the publication not only of his reasons for abrogating the test
introduced to exclude Papists, but by his excusing the doctrines
of Transubstantiation, and his vindicating the Romanists from the
charge of idolatry. To nominate Parker offended the University for
two reasons. No vacancy, in fact, existed, since Hough could claim
office by virtue of his College election; besides, the Bishop had never
been a Fellow of either of the Colleges specified in the Statutes.
In September the King himself visited Oxford, determined to subdue
the refractory body. The interview has been often described; the
following account, substantially the same as that given in the _State
Trials_[195] is preserved in MS. in the Record Office.
“The Lord Sunderland sent orders to the Fellows of Magdalen College to
attend the King on Sunday last, at eleven o’clock, or at three in the
afternoon.
“They waited accordingly. Dr. Pudsey, Speaker.
“_K._--‘What’s your name? Are you Dr. Pudsey?’
“_Dr. P._--‘Yes, may it please your Majesty.’
“_K._--‘Did you receive my letter?’
“_Dr. P._--‘Yes, Sir, we did.’
“_K._--‘Then you have not dealt with me like gentlemen: you have
done very uncivilly by me, and undutifully.’
[Sidenote: 1687.]
“Then they all kneeled down, and Dr. Pudsey offered a petition,
containing the reasons of their proceedings, which His Majesty refused
to receive, and said, ‘You have been a stubborn and turbulent College.
I have known you to be so this twenty-six years. You have affronted me
in this. Is this your Church of England loyalty? One would wonder to
find so many Church of England men in such a business. Go back, and
show yourselves good members of the Church of England. Get ye gone;
know I am your King, and I command you to be gone. Go and admit the
Bishop of Oxon, Head-Principal--(what do you call it) of your College.’
“One standing by said ‘President.’
“_K._--‘I mean President of the College. Let him know that
refuses it. Look to’t. They shall find the weight of their Sovereign’s
displeasure.’
“The Fellows went away, and being gone out were recalled.
“_K._--‘I hear you have admitted a Fellow of your College since ye
received my inhibition. Is this true? Have you not admitted Mr. Holden,
Fellow?’
“_Dr. P._--‘I think he was admitted Fellow, but we conceive--.’
The Dr. hesitating, another said, ‘May it please Your Majesty, there
was no new election or admission since Your Majesty’s inhibition, but
only the consummation of a former election. We always elect to one
year’s probation, then the person elected is received or rejected for
ever.’
“_K._--‘The consummation of a former election! It was downright
disobedience, and is a fresh aggravation. Get you gone home, and
immediately repair to your Chapel, and elect the Bishop of Oxon, or
else you must expect to feel the heavy hand of an angry King.’
“The Fellows offered their petition again, on their knees.
“_K._--‘Get ye gone, I will receive nothing from you till you have
obeyed me, and elected the Bishop of Oxford.’
“Upon which they went directly to their Chapel, and Dr. Pudsey
proposing whether they would obey the King and elect the Bishop, they
answered every one in his order; they were always willing to obey His
Majesty in all things that lay in their power, as any of the rest of
His Majesty’s subjects, but the electing of the Bishop of Oxford being
directly contrary to their Statutes, and to the positive oath they had
taken, they could not apprehend it in their power to obey him in this
matter. Only Mr. Dobson, who had publicly prayed for Dr. Hough, the
undoubted President, answered doubtingly, he was ready to obey in every
thing he could. And Mr. Charrochi, a Papist, that he was for obeying in
that.”[196]
[Sidenote: PROMOTION OF ROMANISTS.]
[Sidenote: 1687.]
James found this a much more troublesome business than he had expected;
and in October he thought it necessary to send to Oxford a Special
Commission to endeavour to reduce Magdalen College to obedience. Forty
years before this, when the Parliamentary army had taken possession of
the University, Puritan Commissioners had visited the City to eject
from office the loyal Episcopalians; and now, Commissioners of a far
different character, and escorted by troops of cavalry, appeared in
the same place, to eject men of the same stamp as had been ejected
in 1647. Traditions of the past must have risen before Hough and his
companions; and as they compared their own treatment by the King, with
the treatment of Dr. Oliver by the Parliament, they must have felt
the aggravated cruelty and injustice which they had to endure in the
present instance; for, before it was a warfare of one Church against
another Church--now opposition came not only from a Monarch sworn by
law to support the Establishment, but from a prelate who was bound by
his most religious vows to do the same; Cartwright, Bishop of Chester,
being one of the Commissioners on the occasion. Conscientious Churchmen
suffered persecution from the powers they had long honoured even to
excess: they could, in this instance, as in so many others at the
same period, complain both of treachery and ingratitude, if there be
any obligations arising from oaths on the one side, or any obligations
arising from loyalty on the other. What the King’s Commissioners
did, and how the President and Fellows of Magdalen behaved, are well
represented by the chisel of Roubiliac upon the famous sarcophagus
to the memory of Hough, in Worcester Cathedral, and are succinctly
described in the well-known words which form the inscription upon that
work of art. “Having adjourned till the afternoon, the President came
again into the Court, and having desired to speak a few words, they all
took off their hats, and gave him leave; whereupon he said, ‘My Lords,
you were pleased this morning to deprive me of my place of President
of this College; I do hereby protest against all your proceedings, and
against all that you have done, or hereafter shall do, in prejudice of
me and my right, as illegal, unjust, and null; and, therefore, I appeal
to my Sovereign Lord the King, in his Courts of Justice.’”[197]
The sequel of the affair, briefly told, was this. Hough was deposed,
and deprived; and Parker was installed by proxy, only two members
of the College, however, taking part in the ceremony. The humblest
officers resented the insult put upon the noble foundation--porter,
butler, and blacksmith, all refused to execute the commands they
received to disturb the President elected by the Fellows, and to
acknowledge the President nominated by the Crown. The ejection of
the Fellows who supported Hough speedily followed. All were deprived
of their income. But men of the same, or of other Colleges would not
accept the vacant fellowships; the excitement raised at Oxford spread
over the country, and subscriptions poured in from various quarters,
for the support of the deposed Collegians. Parker died in the midst of
the struggle; and then, to make bad worse, James designated a Roman
Catholic Bishop, Bonaventura Giffard, as head of this Protestant
institution. Twelve Romanists became Fellows--whilst Protestants,
applying for fellowship, met with rejection. These proceedings
agitated the whole country. Churchmen considered it as an attack upon
the Establishment, Nonconformists as an attack upon Protestantism,
politicians as an attack on chartered liberty, and people, who did
not care for religion or politics, as an attack on the rights of
property.[198]
[Sidenote: NEW DECLARATION.]
The King renewed the Declaration of Indulgence in April, 1688; and on
the 4th of May issued an order that it should be read in all churches,
and that the Bishops should see the order obeyed. He intended to test
the obedience of the clergy; and he placed them in the dilemma of
exposing themselves to his displeasure, or of degrading themselves
by compliance with his arbitrary command. Crew of Durham, Barlow
of Lincoln, Cartwright of Chester, Wood of Lichfield and Coventry,
Walters of St. David’s, and Sprat of Rochester, presented addresses
of thanks to the Sovereign for his promise to maintain the Church as
by law established. The Chester clergy issued an address, maintaining
that they were bound by “statute law, the rubric of their liberty,”
to publish what the King or the Bishop required; and Herbert Croft,
who still presided over the see of Hereford, read the Declaration,
justifying his conduct, and recommending it as an example by the
Scripture words, “Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the
Lord’s sake, whether it be to the king as supreme, or unto governors as
unto them that are sent by him.”[199]
[Sidenote: 1688.]
A meeting of the clergy was held in London, including Tillotson,
Stillingfleet, Patrick, Sherlock, and other well-known men. They
canvassed arguments for and against compliance, the latter being
reinforced by an assurance conveyed to the meeting, in a note from some
Nonconformists, who said that “instead of being alienated from the
Church they would be drawn closer to her, by her making a stand for
religion and liberty.”[200] Fowler, another distinguished clergyman,
declared that whatever the majority might decide he was determined
not to read the Declaration.[201] His speech encouraged the waverers,
and an unanimous resolution of refusal resulted from the discussion.
A paper to that effect rapidly received signatures from eighty-five
London Incumbents. This meeting was held on the 23rd of May.
A more important meeting still had been held on the 18th of the same
month, at Lambeth Palace. Then also Tillotson, Stillingfleet, Patrick,
and Sherlock were present, together with Grove, Rector of St. Mary’s
Undershaft, and Tenison, Vicar of St. Martin’s. But the most important
personages taking part on that occasion were Compton, Bishop of London,
then under suspension; Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury, also under
the King’s displeasure; and the six Bishops, who, with Sancroft, make
the _seven_ so illustrious in English History. The six included
Turner, Bishop of Ely; Lake, Bishop of Chichester;[202] White, Bishop
of Peterborough; Trelawny, Bishop of Bristol; Ken, Bishop of Bath and
Wells; and Lloyd, Bishop of St. Asaph. The last two alone require
particular notice.
[Sidenote: BISHOP KEN.]
[Sidenote: 1688.]
Thomas Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells, the openness of whose countenance
corresponded with the simplicity of his character,[203] is the best
known of all the seven. A Wykehamist, and an Oxonian, he took orders in
the Church just after the Restoration, and became Fellow of Winchester
College, and Chaplain to the Bishop. In his former capacity he refused
to admit to his lodgings Nell Gwynn, the mistress of Charles II.,
when she accompanied her lover on a visit to the romantic old city;
and it is to the honour of the erring King, that, instead of showing
resentment for this high-principled act, he rewarded with a mitre the
virtues of the pure-hearted clergyman.[204] People suspected that, in
consequence of a journey he made to the City of Rome, Ken had become
tinged with Popery; but though ascetic in his habits, a High Churchman
in principle, and decidedly “Catholic” in feeling, his protest from the
pulpit against the errors of Rome, and his resistance of the policy
of James, is sufficient to clear him from any suspicion of that kind:
James did not personally dislike him, and listened to what he had to
say on behalf of sufferers in the Monmouth Rebellion. His popularity
appears to have been very great. Evelyn speaks of the crowd to hear
him at St. Martin’s, as “not to be expressed, nor the wonderful
eloquence of this admirable preacher;” and again at Whitehall, the
same Diarist speaks of the Holy Communion after the Morning Service
being interrupted by “the rude breaking in of multitudes, zealous
to hear the second sermon to be preached by the Bishop of Bath and
Wells.”[205] On that occasion Ken applied the story of the persecution
of the Church of Judah, by the Babylonians, to the peculiar position
of the Church of England; and he so powerfully urged the congregation
to cling to the reformed faith, that they could scarcely refrain
from an audible response. Sent for by James, and reproved for his
boldness, Ken quietly replied “that if His Majesty had not neglected
his own duty of being present, his enemies had missed the opportunity
of accusing him.” But the Bishop’s wide fame rests mainly on his
Morning, Evening, and Midnight Hymns, respecting which, it has been
truly said, had he endowed three hospitals, he might have been less a
benefactor to posterity.[206] Nor should we overlook the interest which
he took in the young, his manual of prayer for Wykeham’s scholars, his
establishment of parish schools, and his zeal for catechizing.[207]
[Sidenote: BISHOP LLOYD.]
William Lloyd, Bishop of St. Asaph, took a leading part in the
proceedings of the seven. He had been ordained by Bishop Brownrigg, in
the time of the Commonwealth, and had been made Dean of Ripon at the
Restoration. In 1676 he had obtained the vicarage of St. Martin’s,
Westminster; and amidst the excitement of the Popish plots had
distinguished himself by his Protestant zeal. He had preached Godfrey’s
funeral sermon, and had been indefatigable in his endeavours to elicit
evidence in support of the accusations by Titus Oates.[208] Decidedly
a party man, although sincere and honest, he showed himself apt
practically to adopt the principle, that the end sanctifies the means,
and to betray feelings of a kind which, though sometimes attributed
exclusively to Papists, are rather the bad qualities of human
nature.[209] He combined, with his Protestant activities, a fondness
for prophetical studies, dwelling much upon the predicted downfall of
Babylon, and bringing to bear upon his Biblical and other researches
a considerable amount of learning, not always under the control of a
sober judgment. Promoted in the year 1680 to the see of St. Asaph,
he endeavoured to reduce the Dissenters to conformity by means of
argument and friendly influence; and where he failed to convince he won
respect.[210]
Such were the Bishops engaged in the Lambeth Conference, and it ended
in the drawing up of a petition to the King, in which the petitioners
professed that their objection to publish the Declaration did not arise
from disloyalty to the King, nor from any want of due tenderness to
Dissenters, in relation to whom they were willing to come to such a
temper as should be thought fit, when the subject should be considered,
and settled in Parliament and Convocation; but such a dispensing power
as he now exercised had been by Parliament pronounced illegal.[211]
[Sidenote: 1688.]
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
Of the disposition of the petitioners to obey the commands of the King,
so far as their conscience allowed, there can be no doubt; for some at
least of the Bishops had maintained, or countenanced, the doctrine of
passive obedience and non-resistance. Nor did they consider themselves
as now acting inconsistently with that doctrine,--inasmuch as they
distinguished between active and passive obedience, and refused only
an active compliance with authority, which they had never held to be
binding in cases where conscience interposed to the contrary. They
would not do what the King commanded, but they would, as Confessors,
patiently accept the consequences, should all constitutional and
legal defence of themselves prove in vain. They would countenance no
forcible resistance, they would not sanction taking up arms against His
Majesty, and they would oppose the accession to the throne of any other
claimants, however supported by the nation, so long as the anointed
prince continued to live; and hence the attitude which they assumed as
nonjurors. Respecting their conduct on this occasion, I must, without
a grain of sympathy in their opinions, say, that they did not act so
inconsistently as is supposed. But if justice requires this to be
said, it requires also something more. As it regards Sancroft his
conduct must be pronounced inconsistent. For although he now refused
to read the Royal Declaration it appears that in the Prayer Book of
Cosin,--amongst MS. suggestions, where it is said that nothing is to
be read in church, but by direction of the Ordinary,--Sancroft had
added the significant words “_or the King’s order_:”[212] and,
moreover, he had recommended, or approved, at a recent period, the
publishing of Royal declarations by the clergy in service-time.[213]
As it regards the seven Bishops generally, in their relation to
Dissenters, they now declared that they did not resist the Royal
demand from any want of tenderness to them,--a plea which would have
been valid had they all shown a tolerant and charitable spirit, but
they had not done so. It is notorious that persecution had continued
nearly up to the time of the first Declaration; and this, too, with the
connivance or encouragement of some of the Bishops. The Bishop of St.
Asaph, indeed, had distinguished himself by his moderation, Ken had
not manifested a persecuting temper, but Sancroft, though appearing
to advantage in comparison with Sheldon, cannot be defended from a
charge of intolerance, for a letter exists, in which, after alluding to
Conventicles at Bury and Ipswich, he expresses His Majesty’s pleasure,
that effectual care should be taken for the suppression of unlawful
assemblies.[214]
[Sidenote: 1688.]
The altered and improved tone of Sancroft on the subject of
Nonconformity just after the trial of the seven will be noticed in its
proper place;[215] but certainly the language which the seven now
employed looked too much as if introduced to serve a purpose. Their
expressed objection to the Royal proceedings as unconstitutional, and
as fraught with perilous consequences to the liberties of the country,
and their implied maintenance of the authority of Parliament as the
conservator of national freedom deserve, however, an Englishman’s
gratitude; although here again, it is provoking to remember, that
the current teaching of the High Church school, to which some of the
prelates belonged, had been such as to exalt the power of Kings far
above the power of Parliaments. The ostensible ground of defence, that
the Declaration and the order were unconstitutional, gave the Bishops
the appearance of being confessors in the cause of civil liberty,
but this is a view of their character entirely contradicted by their
previous career. The real ground of their conduct, no doubt, is to be
discovered in their alarm at the King’s patronage of Roman Catholicism,
in their persuasion that the Indulgence, which they were commanded to
publish, had been contrived for that end, and in their conviction, that
by active compliance with the Royal mandate at this crisis, they would
be betraying the Church of England, and degrading their own character.
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
The seven Bishops just described or mentioned, signed the petition. On
the evening of the day on which they performed that momentous act, six
of them crossed the water, to seek an interview with the King,--the
Archbishop not accompanying them, because he had been forbidden access
to Court. The prelates were admitted after ten o’clock to the Royal
bedchamber, and then into the King’s closet,[216] where the Bishop of
St. Asaph, dropping on his knees, presented the petition. The King
exclaimed, “This is my Lord of Canterbury’s own hand.” “Yes, Sir,” said
the Bishops, “it is his own hand.” “What,” cried His Majesty, in a
furious tone, “the Church of England against my dispensing power? The
Church of England! They that always preached it.” The prelates told him
they never preached any such thing, but only obedience and suffering
when they could not obey.[217] “This,” added James, as he folded up the
paper, “is a great surprise to me; here are strange words--I did not
expect this from you. This is a standard of rebellion.” The Bishops
rejoined--“That they had adventured their lives for His Majesty, and
would lose the last drop of their blood rather than lift up a finger
against him.” The King repeated, “I tell you this is a standard of
rebellion; I never saw such an address.” The Bishop of Bristol burst
into an exclamation, “Rebellion, Sir! I beseech your Majesty, do not
say so hard a thing of us. For God’s sake do not believe we are, or
can be guilty of a rebellion. It is impossible that I, or any of my
family should be so. Your Majesty cannot but remember that you sent me
down into Cornwall to quell Monmouth’s rebellion, and I am as ready to
do what I can to quell another, if there were occasion.” The Bishop
of Chichester backed his Episcopal brother by saying, “Sir, we have
quelled one rebellion, and will not raise another;” and the rest, after
professing their loyalty, continued their objections. James, insisting
upon the rebellious tendency of the document demanded that he should
be obeyed, and have the Declaration published; but, he said, if he
altered his mind he would let them know.[218] The conversation ended,
and they retired. Now the Archbishop had written the petition himself,
that he might prevent its being published, but in some way a copy
of it got abroad, and being fast multiplied, the paper the very same
evening in which it reached the hands of His Majesty reached also the
hands of hundreds, and perhaps thousands of the people. Afterwards it
received the signatures of the Bishops of London, Norwich, Gloucester,
Salisbury, Winchester, and Exeter, who were not present at the earlier
meetings.
[Sidenote: 1688.]
The Declaration was read at Whitehall “by one of the choir, who used
to read the chapters.”[219] It was read in Westminster Abbey; but
there arose so great a noise, that nobody could hear it, and at the
end of the publication none remained present, except the prebends, the
choristers, and the Westminster scholars. The number of instances in
which it was published in London is reckoned by Burnet and Kennet at
seven, and by Clarendon at four.[220] In dioceses, where the Bishops
ordered the clergy to comply, the command met with only limited
obedience; within the diocese of Norwich, not more than three or four
parishes, out of about twelve hundred, heard a single word of the
document; and a story is told of an incumbent, who informed his people,
that he had been enjoined to read, but they were not compelled to
hear, and, therefore, he suggested that they should retire, whilst he
repeated the proclamation within empty walls.
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
The following singular letter by Barlow, the Bishop of Lincoln,
indicates at once the difficulty felt by his clergy, and his own
lukewarmness in the matter. Addressing a correspondent, he says:--
“Sir,--I received yours, and all that I have time to say (the
messenger which brought it making so little stay here) is only this.
By His Majesty’s command, I was required to send that Declaration to
all churches in my diocese, in obedience whereto I sent them. Now the
same authority which requires me to send them, requires you to read
them. But whether you should, or should not read them, is a question
of that difficulty, in the circumstances we now are, that you can’t
expect that I should so hastily answer it, especially in writing. The
two last Sundays, the clergy in London were to read it, but, as I am
informed, they generally refused. For myself I shall neither persuade
nor dissuade you, but leave it to your prudence and conscience,
whether you will, or will not read it; only this I shall advise, that,
after serious consideration, you find that you cannot read it, but
_reluctante vel dubitante conscientiâ_, in that case, to read it
will be your sin, and you to blame for doing it. I shall only add, that
God Almighty would be so graciously pleased to bless and direct you so,
that you may do nothing in this case, which may be justly displeasing
to God, or the King, is the prayer of your loving friend, and brother,
THOS. LINCOLN.”[221]
[Sidenote: 1688.]
After a short delay, the King resolved to prosecute the Bishops
for a misdemeanour. Having received a summons to appear before the
Privy Council, they spent the interval in conference, being greatly
cheered by expressions of sympathy from many friends of the highest
distinction. After an audience with the King on the 8th of June, the
Lord Chancellor announced the Royal pleasure to proceed against the
accused according to law; and so soon as the warrants for commitment
had been issued, the intelligence spread through London like
wildfire,--people flocking in multitudes to see these venerable persons
led out of court under the custody of a guard. Popular love of liberty,
and zeal for religion, blazed up at once, and the spectators, including
soldiers, fell down on their knees, to implore Episcopal benedictions.
With these benedictions the Bishops united exhortations, that the
people would fear God, and honour the King, and keep the peace; and no
sooner had the prisoners entered within the precincts of the Tower,
than they repaired to the chapel, to return thanks for that which the
Almighty had counted them worthy to endure.[222] The next day numbers
flocked to offer them service, and to express their thanks for such
heroic behaviour, and amongst other visitors came ten Nonconformist
ministers--a circumstance which so offended the King, that he summoned
four of them to his presence, when they respectfully answered, that
they could not help adhering to the Right Reverend prisoners, as men
who were constant to the Protestant faith. Even the soldiers who kept
guard expressed sympathy, in their own rude way, toasting the Bishops
with brimming cups; and when rebuked for this by their captain, they
said, they were doing it at that instant, and would continue to do so,
until the Bishops were set free.[223]
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
The Nonconformists had reason to expect that they would be required to
read the Declaration in their meeting-houses; but one of their number,
Mr. Morice, used all the means in his power to prevent the issue of
such an order, and in this he succeeded. The Nonconformists, however,
were pressed to get up congratulatory addresses: which they declined to
do, for reasons which they stated in the following awkward terms:--
“None,” said they, “will offer it of condition, or quality, and so we
shall be greatly diminished and lessened, by offering it, by persons of
a little figure or that are not known to be ours.
“Our enemies and friends will greatly dislike it and heinously censure
us for it.
“We shall become suspected, and so lose our interest in our great
friends, both as to their private and public capacity.
“The inconsideration of those that occasion the debate of an address
is the only reason that can be suggested for it, as a deference to the
King.
“The report, or common talk of it, will be to our great advantage if we
do it not, and will greatly strengthen our influence both upon enemies
and friends, and in truth our influence is now full as great upon our
enemies, as it used to be upon our friends.
[Sidenote: 1688.]
“Lastly, we are absolutely [and indeed so they seem to be] for
liberty by a law, but we are utterly against letting Papists into the
Government, and of this the King has often had and should have a clear
understanding and be fully possessed with it, that he may not have any
colour afterwards to say we deceived.”[224]
Some few towns and corporations presented addresses of thanks to the
King for the Declaration, and amongst them one from the “Old Dissenting
officers and soldiers of the County of Lincoln;”[225] but the most
numerous, as well as the most respectable of the Nonconformists,
objected to such a course, and Baxter publicly in his pulpit
extolled the Bishops. “The whole Church,” says the Papal Nuncio in
his correspondence, “espouses the cause of the Bishops. There is no
reasonable expectation of a division among the Anglicans, and our hopes
from the Nonconformists are vanished.”[226]
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
On the 15th of June, Sancroft and his brethren were brought from the
Tower to the Court of King’s Bench; as their barge floated along the
Thames, they were greeted with applauses and with prayers, and on their
reaching Westminster, noblemen and gentlemen accompanied them into
Court. Of the immense concourse of people who received them on the bank
of the river and followed them to the bar, the greater part fell upon
their knees, wishing them happiness and asking their blessing; and as
the Archbishop laid his hands on the heads of those that were nearest,
telling them to be firm in their faith, the people cried out that all
should kneel, and tears were seen to flow from the eyes of many.[227]
Westminster Hall has raised its huge form many a time, like an old rock
out of the bosom of the sea, as crowds of excited people have gathered
under its shadow: on this occasion the ocean of heads was more immense
than ever, whilst surges of indignant and sympathetic feeling rose and
rolled and broke every moment. All London seemed to be on the spot,
and the spirit of the nation seemed to be there concentrated. Upon
the prelates being desired to plead, the Archbishop was permitted to
read a short paper, claiming sufficient time for preparing an answer;
but the plea was rejected as a device for delay. The accused pleaded
“Not guilty,” in the usual form, and the trial was fixed for that
day fortnight. When the prisoners were admitted to bail on their own
recognizance, the people took the circumstance as a triumph, and set no
bounds to their boisterous joy. Huzzas rent the air, the Abbey bells
rung, and people thronged the way the Bishops went, lighting bonfires,
maltreating Roman Catholics, and execrating the other prelates who
yielded to the Royal will.
On the 29th of June the trial took place in Westminster Hall. One of
the most worthless men that ever sat on the bench, Lord Chief Justice
Wright, the _protégé_ of the infamous Jeffreys, presided, and
with him were associated three puisne Judges--Holloway, Powell, and
Allybone, a Roman Catholic. Strangely enough, Sawyer and Finch,
two lawyers who had been State prosecutors under Charles II., and
had conducted the proceedings against Lord William Russell, now
appeared on the side of the prosecuted; whilst Williams, a Whig,
now Solicitor-General, with Powys, the Attorney-General, conducted
the prosecution. This confusion of parties led to attacks and
recriminations which afforded such amusement to bystanders and so
provoked their raillery, that the Court with difficulty suppressed
demonstrations of censure or applause. Numerous noblemen sat by the
Judges, scrutinizing their acts, and the Chief Justice looked, we are
told, as “if all the peers present had halters in their pockets.”
[Sidenote: 1688.]
The information having been read, the first thing was to prove the
handwriting of the Bishops, a point not to be established without
considerable difficulty. The Counsel for the defence raised the
question,--Had the paper been signed in the County of Middlesex,
where the venue had been laid? This could not be proved, inasmuch as
Sancroft, during the whole business, had remained in his Palace at
Lambeth. The case, so far, legally broke down, when the Crown lawyers
changed their ground, contending, that the libel, if not written,
had been published in Middlesex, by the delivery of it into the
King’s hands,--a circumstance proved by the testimony of Sunderland,
Lord President of the Council. It now remained for the advocates of
the Bishops to defend the document. This they proceeded to do, by
representing that, whereas their right reverend clients stood accused
of having published a “false, malicious, and seditious libel” against
the King, nothing could be further from deserving such epithets than
the paper which they had presented, it being couched in the most
respectful terms, and presented in the most private manner. It merely
asked relief from compliance with a demand which distressed their
consciences. Every subject had the right of petition, and Bishops ought
not to be deprived of this common privilege, they being principally
charged with the care and execution of laws concerning the Church’s
welfare; but the main stress of the defence rested on the illegality of
dispensing with penal laws.[228]
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
The managers of the prosecution urged, that the King was entitled to
the prerogative which he claimed; that what took place in the years
1662 and 1672 did not amount to any authoritative decision on the
subject, but merely expressed the opinion of Parliament, to which
His Majesty, under the circumstances, gave way, without a permanent
surrender of his regal power. The libel of the Bishops was malicious
and full of sedition, casting the greatest reflection on the
Government. The tendency of their conduct was to inflame the public
mind, and, though they had the right of petition, it could be no excuse
for publishing a reproachful and scandalous attack upon the King’s
Majesty. The Chief Justice, in summing up, pronounced the petition
to be libellous; Justice Allybone took the same view; but the other
two, Holloway and Powell, dissented from such a judgment,--an act of
independence which cost them their seats on the Bench as soon as the
term was over.[229] Evening had come, when the exhausted Jury retired
to consider their verdict. They remained closeted all night without
fire or candle, but basins of water and towels were furnished for their
use. At about three o’clock in the morning, so it is reported, they
were overheard in vehement debate with one another; and, at six, they
sent word they had come to a conclusion, upon which, the prisoners
being brought into Court, the foreman pronounced the verdict--“_Not
Guilty_.” The effect was electric, the joy of the multitude
burst out in a triumphant shout; “one would have thought,” said the
Earl of Clarendon, who was present, “the Hall had cracked.” Now, as
before, the people on their knees made a lane from the King’s Bench
to beg a blessing as the Bishops passed; the crowd shook hands with
the Jurymen, crying, “God bless you, and prosper your families, you
have saved us all to-day;” noblemen flung money out of their coach
windows for the mob to drink the health of the King, the Bishops,
and the Jury; churches were crowded with people to pour forth their
gratitude to God, for the delivery of His servants; and the prelates
themselves, immediately after their acquittal, went to Whitehall
Chapel, and thence proceeded to their respective homes, followed by
the acclamations of delighted multitudes. An illumination succeeded in
the evening, seven candles,--the middle one longer than the others,
representing the Primate,--gleamed in thousands of windows; bells
rang, bonfires blazed, rockets and squibs burst in all directions,
the populace burnt an effigy of the Pope dressed in pontificals, as
he appears in his chair at St. Peter’s, and Protestant demonstrations
of various kinds continued all that night, until the church bells on
Sunday morning called the people to worship and to rest. The joy of
London repeated itself in the provinces, and vainly did the authorities
forbid the outburst of gladness which rolled from shore to shore.
[Sidenote: 1688.]
James was at Hounslow, reviewing the troops, when, on hearing a great
noise, he asked what was the matter: “Nothing but the soldiers shouting
for the acquittal of the Bishops.” “Call you that nothing,” he might
well ask, and then insanely added, “but so much the worse for them.” It
certainly proved so much the worse for him.
The popularity of the seven Bishops in 1688, appears in striking
contrast with the unpopularity of the thirteen Bishops in 1642. There
had been a number of circumstances, operating from the period of
the Restoration, which contributed to the favourable impression now
produced. The reaction against the rigours of Puritan rule, and the
reverence, as well as the resentments kindled by clerical sufferings,
the effect of the abolition of the Star Chamber and of the High
Commission Court, the cessation of that troublesome zeal for ritualism,
which had so harassed the country in the days of Laud, and the firm
hold which the Episcopal Church had taken on the majority of the
nation--these circumstances, and others, probably prepared for that
gush of enthusiasm which greeted the Bishops on the day of their trial.
[Sidenote: THE SEVEN BISHOPS.]
Also, a change had come over the clergy. In 1677, they supported
absolutism; then their opposition was chiefly directed against
Protestant Nonconformity, and their resistance of the encroachments
of Popery seemed lukewarm: but, before 1688, they opened their
eyes to the intolerance of Romanism, and to the dark omens of its
establishment in England. Alarmed at the impending evil, they warmly
engaged in controversy, and many of them, seeing that the united
strength of all Protestants had become needful to meet the emergency,
proceeded to alter their conduct towards their long-despised Dissenting
brethren. Convinced at last of the mischiefs connected with arbitrary
rule, whatever subtle theories some might have respecting passive
obedience and non-resistance, they now opposed, under the pressure of
circumstances, the despotic policy of the Crown. Some saw the folly of
their former course in exalting the Royal prerogative, with the idea of
thereby defending the Church; now they discovered the unconstitutional
power which they had conceded to the Sovereign to be an instrument
capable of inflicting mischief on themselves. The ghost which they had
raised, they now sought to lay; the monster which they had created or
nourished, they now strove to crush. Ten years had produced a change in
the clergy; and the change in the clergy had made them popular with the
nation.
[Sidenote: 1689.]
One great cause of the popularity of the Bishops may be found in the
men themselves, in their unmistakeable honesty of purpose, in their
zeal for Constitutional Government, in their professions of liberality
towards other Protestant denominations, and certainly not a little,
in their social virtues and their Christian piety. Their advocacy
of the Reformed faith carried all its disciples along with them,
their readiness to suffer for the Established religion inspired with
affection the bosom of Churchmen, and their overtures of reconciliation
touched the hearts of Nonconformists. The release of the Bishops
proved a proud day for the Church of England, and the man must be of a
cynical temper and of narrow sympathies, who cannot enter warmly into
the triumphs of that occasion. Notwithstanding, historical justice
requires, and the utmost generosity does not forbid us to remember the
treatment which Nonconformists for twenty-seven years had endured at
the hands of the English priesthood, through their steady refusal the
whole of that time, to grant or to encourage either comprehension or
liberty. Nor can we forget the prevalence of thorough irreligion, of
frivolous scepticism, of downright immorality, and of disgusting vice,
which blackened the last two Stuart reigns, and which the Church did
so little to overcome or to diminish. Her laxity and time-serving, her
want of missionary earnestness and love, her neglect of faithful and
pointed preaching, and of pastoral diligence, her indifference to the
education and well-being of the lower classes, at the time of which we
treat, are in conspicuous contrast to her activity in these respects
at the present day. There are few of her most devoted sons who would
think of vindicating her from the reproaches now expressed, however
they may value her formularies, rejoice in her Constitution, and join
in celebrating the ovation of her seven Bishops.