FOOTNOTES:
So called because it was supposed to be signed by 1000 ministers. As a matter of fact, it bore less than 800 names.
| Margaret, Countess of Lenox. | |||||||||
| Henry, Lord Darnley = Mary, Queen of Scots. | Charles, Earl of Lennox. | ||||||||
| James VI. and I. | Arabella Stuart. | ||||||||
See p. [354].
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE REIGN OF CHARLES I. TO THE OUTBREAK OF THE CIVIL WAR.
1625-1642.
The accession of Charles I. made a profound change in the destinies of England, for though the new king had the same policy and the same notions of government in Church and State as his father, yet his personal character was wholly different. James had been before all things a coward: he seldom dared to translate his theories into action, and hence it came that he died peacefully in his bed. His son, on the other hand, was not lacking in courage, and he was recklessly obstinate; nothing could bend his will or teach him submission; therefore he died on the scaffold.
Character of Charles I.
Yet Charles was in every way superior to his father. He was a man of handsome face and stately carriage; though reared in a profligate and vicious court, he had grown up with all the private virtues; as a father and husband, he was admirable. He was sincerely religious, and ardently loved the Church of England. He was a wise and judicious patron of art and letters, but his tastes never led him into personal extravagance. If he had been born a peer instead of a prince, he would have been one of the best men of his day. But, unfortunately for England and for himself, he inherited a crown and not a coronet. He came to the helm of State fully persuaded of the truth of the two maxims that his father had taught him—that the royal prerogative overrode all the ancient national rights, and that the king ought to judge for himself in all things, and follow his own ideas, not the advice of his Parliament.
The accession of Charles was saluted with joy on all sides. The nation thought that the young, chivalrous, and enterprising prince would reverse all his father's policy—he would cast away the hated Spanish alliance, and place England at the head of the Protestant powers of Europe, the position that she had held in Elizabeth's day. It was hoped that he would relegate the upstart Buckingham to the background, and rule for himself, but in accordance with the wishes and aspirations of the nation.
Continued ascendency of Buckingham.
The first jarring note was struck when it became evident that the king was still under the control of his father's favourite. Villiers had somehow contrived to master the mind of the staid and firm Charles no less than that of the timid and irresolute James. When the first Parliament of the new reign was summoned, it found him in full possession of the king's ear, and dictating all his enterprises.
Demands for money refused by the Commons.
The enormous demands for money which Charles laid before the Commons were enough to dash their spirits. The late king had left some £800,000 of debts, and in addition to the sum required to discharge them, £1,000,000 more was asked for purposes of war with Spain and the Emperor. To the disgust of Charles and Buckingham, Parliament voted only two subsidies, about £150,000, and granted "Tunnage and Poundage"—the customs revenue of the kingdom—for one year only, though it had been usual, in late reigns, to give it for the whole term of the king's life.
Expedition against Cadiz.
The want of confidence which the Commons showed in Buckingham's administrative capacity was thoroughly justified. His first military adventure was a great expedition against the Spanish arsenal of Cadiz. A large fleet was sent out, but the generals were incapable, and the armament returned in a few months, without having accomplished anything save the capture of a single Spanish fort (1625).
Loan of ships for the siege of La Rochelle.
Meanwhile a new trouble was brewing. Charles had carried out Buckingham's scheme for an alliance with France, and had taken to wife the Princess Henrietta Maria, sister of Lewis XIII., the moment that the mourning for his father was over. Shortly after, his brother-in-law asked him for the loan of eight men-of-war, for the French navy was small and weak. The request was granted, and the French government then proceeded to use the ships against the rebellious Huguenots of La Rochelle, who were in arms against the king.
Now, the English nation had always felt much sympathy with the French Protestants, their old companions-in-arms in the days of Elizabeth, and the news that the royal navy was being used to coerce the Huguenots caused a great outcry throughout the country. All the blame was laid on Buckingham, as was but natural. He had also to face another accusation. Unable to get enough money from Parliament to fit out the unhappy expedition to Cadiz, the king had raised large sums by "benevolences" and forced loans—the old expedient of Edward IV.
Parliament attacks Buckingham.
When, therefore, the second Parliament of the reign assembled in 1626, it proceeded, not to grant subsidies for the war, but to petition against Buckingham. The king took the matter in the most haughty and high-handed manner. "I must let you know," he exclaimed, "that I will not let any of my servants be questioned by you—much less those that are of eminent place, and near to me." He denied, in short, the ancient right of the House to petition against unpopular ministers—a right which it had used fifty times in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. But the Commons hardened their hearts, and proceeded to impeach the duke for having raised illegal taxes, sold public offices to unworthy persons, and lent the ships to France contrary to the interests of the realm and the Protestant faith. The king's reply was to dissolve them (June, 1626).
The French alliance broken off.
But the king and the duke had been seriously moved by the outcry against the loan of the ships to King Lewis. In a vain attempt to conciliate public opinion, and put themselves right with the nation, they suddenly reversed their policy of the last two years, and resolved to break with France, even though the Spanish war was still on their hands. With inconceivable frivolity and thoughtlessness, Buckingham proceeded to pick a quarrel with the French government, and to announce his intention of aiding the Huguenot rebels in La Rochelle against their sovereign.
Expedition in aid of La Rochelle.
War was declared against France, and Buckingham undertook to lead in person a great armament which was to raise the siege of La Rochelle, now closely beleaguered by the royal armies. This expedition came to a bad end, like everything else which the headstrong and incapable duke took in hand. He landed on the Isle of Rhé, opposite La Rochelle, to drive off the French troops which shut the city in on the side of the sea. But there he suffered a fearful disaster: part of his army was cut to pieces, part compelled to surrender, and, after losing 4000 men, the duke hastily re-embarked for England (October, 1627).
Buckingham assassinated.
But Buckingham was as obstinate as he was incompetent. He swore that he would still save La Rochelle, and began to gather a second army at Portsmouth to renew his attempt to raise the siege. While employed in organizing his new troops, he was stabbed and mortally wounded by John Felton, a discontented officer who had served under him in Rhé, and wished to avenge his private wrongs and free the country of a tyrant by this single blow (August, 1628).
By the death of his arrogant minister, the king obtained a splendid opportunity of setting himself right with the nation and turning over a new leaf. For men had agreed to consider Buckingham personally answerable for the disasters and illegalities of the two last years, and to hold the king guilty of nothing more than a misplaced confidence in his favourite.
The Parliament of 1628.
Charles soon showed that he was not wiser nor more teachable than the duke. He took no new favourite into his confidence, and proceeded to act as his own prime minister, so that he made himself clearly responsible for all that followed. He had summoned his third Parliament early in 1628, hoping to extract from it the sums necessary to defray Buckingham's projected second expedition to La Rochelle. The Commons met in no pleasant mood, and were far more set on protesting against the doings of Buckingham than on granting money. The new House contained many men who were to be notable in after-years as the chief opponents of the king's misrule: Oliver Cromwell appeared for the first time to represent Huntingdon; Hampden, Pym, and Eliot were also numbered among the members—all three considerable personages, who had already protested against the methods of the king's administration.
The Petition of Right.
Instead of waiting to be attacked, the Parliament of 1628 took the initiative, by presenting to the king the celebrated Petition of Right—a document which demanded that certain ancient rights of Englishmen should be formally conceded by the king, namely, that no benevolences or forced loans should be demanded, no soldiers billeted on citizens without payment, no man imprisoned except on a specified and definite charge, and no martial law proclaimed in time of peace. Unless this petition was granted, they intimated that no supplies of money should be forthcoming (May 28). After some quibbling and hesitation, Charles gave his assent; money was absolutely necessary to him, and he was determined to have it. The subsidies were granted, and then in a few months he proceeded to break his plighted word.
Parliament dissolved.
When the Parliament met after its adjournment in January, 1629, it found that the king had already begun raising Tunnage and Poundage, which had not yet been legally granted him, and was imprisoning those who refused to pay. Their indignation was thoroughly roused, and they displayed such a combative spirit, that Charles determined to dissolve them at once. While his messenger was knocking at the door of the House, the Commons passed a hasty resolution, "that any one who should countenance Popery, or advise the levying of subsidies not granted by Parliament, should be reputed a capital enemy to the kingdom and commonwealth." This declaration had hardly been carried, when the notice of dissolution was proclaimed (March 10, 1629).
Personal government.
After waging such bitter war with three successive Parliaments, Charles resolved to try the unprecedented experiment of governing without Parliaments at all. For eleven years he refused to summon the two Houses, and ruled autocratically without any check on his will (1629-1640). He marked his sense of the late Parliament's conduct by apprehending several of its members, and sending three of them to the Tower. Sir John Eliot, the most prominent of these captives, and one of the best men of his day, languished to death in his prison, after a confinement of no less than three years.
After this cruel and unconstitutional beginning, Charles persevered in his evil ways. He chose a body of ministers who would obey his every command, displaced such judges and officials as showed any regard for the old customs of the realm, and governed like a Continental tyrant. He was not a vicious or a malevolent man, but he was fully convinced that his prerogative covered every illegal act that he might commit, and he was persuaded that all who opposed him must be not only foolish but evil-disposed persons. As to the Petition of Right, he managed to forget that he had ever signed it.
Archbishop Laud.
The two chief councillors of the king in this unhappy period were William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Thomas Wentworth, Lord Strafford. The former was an honest but narrow-minded man, who had made a great reputation at Oxford as President of St. John's College, and had grown to note as the head of the High Church party in the University. He was a good scholar and an excellent organizer, but a martinet to the backbone. He accepted the archbishopric with the fixed idea of suppressing and crushing the Puritan party in and out of the Church of England. He hated the Puritan ideal of Church government on republican lines without king or bishop, and he equally detested the Calvinistic doctrine of predestination, [38] which was the shibboleth of Puritan theology. The king was a good Churchman, and gave Laud his full confidence; Laud, in return, became the zealous servant of Charles in secular no less than in religious matters. Not only did he teach consistently that it was a subject's duty to submit without question to a divinely ordained king, not only did he devote himself to molesting and harassing Puritans in the Church Courts, but he made himself the most prominent personage among the king's ministers. His name is signed at the top of every unwise ordinance that the Privy Council ever produced. He sat regularly in the two ancient but unconstitutional courts, the Star Chamber and the Court of High Commission, which punished those who had offended King Charles in matters secular or spiritual. Hence it came that he was hated, not only as an ecclesiastical tyrant, but as a temporal oppressor. Yet at bottom he was an honest and well-meaning man, who did but follow the dictates of his somewhat pedantic conscience.
It is difficult to give even this moderate praise to the other great minister who served King Charles. Sir Thomas Wentworth had been a great enemy of Buckingham in Parliament,
The Earl of Strafford.—"Thorough."
but after the duke's death he suddenly went over to the king, and enlisted in his service. Wentworth loved power above all things, and sold himself to Charles for high promotion. It was this desertion of his old party that made him so well hated by the friends of liberty. The king gave him the title of Strafford, and entrusted him first with the "Presidency of the North"—the government of the counties beyond the Humber; and afterwards with the Lord-Deputyship of Ireland. Strafford was a very capable man, with a hard hand and a great talent for organization. He called his system the policy of "Thorough," by which he meant a resolute persistence in ignoring all checks of custom or constitutional usage which might restrain the king's action, and a determination to crush all who dared to stand in his way.
Strafford's Irish policy.
The tale of Strafford's government in Ireland best illustrates what "Thorough" implied. He reduced the island to a more perfect obedience than it had ever known before, made its revenue and expenditure balance, kept up a large and efficient army, and encouraged trade and manufactures. But this was done at the cost of a ruthless disregard alike for law and morality. Strafford bullied and cheated the Irish Parliament; he set up illegal courts of justice; he dragooned the Scottish settlers in Ulster into accepting episcopacy. His worst measures, however, were reserved for the native Irish. On the preposterous plea that the landlords of Connaught could show no valid title-deeds for their estates, he proposed to confiscate the whole of that province, and settle it up with English. As a matter of fact, Connaught was mostly in the hands of ancient Celtic houses, who could show a tenure of many centuries, but had never consigned their claims to parchment. Strafford proposed to take heavy fines from a few of the unfortunate landholders, and to wholly evict the rest from their ancestral estates. And he would have done it, if troubles in England had not called him away from his task.
Tyrannous measures of the king.
To enumerate all the unconstitutional acts of Charles I. in his eleven years of tyranny would be tedious. He had resolved to raise a sufficient revenue without Parliamentary grants, and to secure it he discovered the most monstrous devices. He established monopolies in the commonest products of trade, such as soap, linen, and leather. He declared whole districts of England to be under forest law, though the forests had disappeared centuries before, and took heavy fines from the inhabitants. He revived the old law of Edward I., which compelled all owners of £40 a year in land to receive knighthood, and made them pay exorbitant fees for the honour. The arbitrary Star Chamber was set to inflict heavy fines on rich men for offences which did not come under the letter of any law, it strained angry words into libel or treason, and made family broils or personal quarrels a fruitful source of revenue. The fines ran up as high as £20,000.
Ship-Money.
Another invention of the king was the celebrated Ship-Money. In ancient times sea-coast districts had been wont to pay a special contribution in time of war, to provide vessels for the royal navy. Charles, in full time of peace, proposed to raise this tax from every county in England, as an annual imposition. John Hampden, the member for Buckinghamshire in the last Parliament, refused to pay the twenty shillings at which he was assessed, and took the case before the courts. But the subservient judges decided in the king's favour, and Hampden was rigorously fined (1637).
The Repression of Puritans.—Bastwick's case.
Beside financial extortion, the king countenanced much oppression of other sorts. Laud and his spiritual courts were always at work against the Puritans. The net result of their work was that the whole Calvinistic party in the Church of England went over to Nonconformity, and became for the most part Presbyterians. Few but the "Arminian" [39] High Churchmen remained in the Establishment. It is probable that these eleven years tripled the number of schismatics in the country. To illustrate the dealings of the Government with clamorous Puritans, the case of Dr. John Bastwick may be taken as an example. He accused the bishops of a tendency to Popery in a tract called "The New Litany." For this he was sentenced to lose both his ears, to stand in the pillory, to be fined £5000, and to be imprisoned till his death (1637).
The Star Chamber.—Prynne's case.
Such sentences, however, were not uncommon in the Court of Star Chamber; nor were they reserved for offenders against spiritual peers only. A case may be quoted even more astonishing than that of Bastwick. A lawyer named William Prynne wrote a book called "Histriomastix," protesting against the growing immorality of the stage. It contained words supposed to reflect on Queen Henrietta Maria, who was very fond of plays, and had sometimes acted in masques herself. For this Prynne was condemned to the same penalty as Bastwick—the pillory, the loss of his ears, and a fine of £5000.
It is not unnatural that England grew more and more disloyal as the years went by. The whole country was seething with discontent. Yet it was not south but north of the Tweed that the first blow was to be struck; it seemed that English wrath needed a Parliament to make its voice articulate. The Scots, on the other hand, found their centre of resistance in the strong local organization of their Kirk.
Attempt to force Episcopacy on Scotland.
The cause of the Scottish outbreak was the king's attempt to force Episcopal government and High Church doctrine on the Kirk of Scotland, which was deeply attached to its Presbyterian constitution, and wholly committed to Calvinistic theology. Both James I. and Charles in his earlier years had made spasmodic attempts to bring the northern Church up to the same level of faith and ritual as that which prevailed in the south. They had been sturdily resisted, but the struggle had not grown quite desperate till 1637, when Charles and Laud seriously took in hand the conversion of Scotland. The first grievance was the issue, by royal authority alone, of a set of "canons"—or Church rules—drawn up by Laud (1636). They were universally disregarded, but in the following year matters came to a head when the king ordered a new Book of Common Prayer, drawn up on an Anglican model, to be taken into use in all the churches of Scotland. The attempt to introduce it led to the celebrated riot in St. Giles's, Edinburgh, where (as the story goes) the turmoil was started by an old woman hurling her stool at the dean's head, with the war-cry, "Will you say the Mass in my lug?" (ear). All the clergy who attempted to use the new Service-book were hustled and driven away (July, 1637).
The National Covenant.
It was evident that Charles would bitterly resent this national outburst, and in self-defence the Scots—nobles, ministers, and burgesses alike—entered into the "National Covenant," a solemn sworn agreement to stand by each other to resist tyranny and Popery. Soon after, the General Assembly of the Kirk met at Glasgow, declared the Scottish bishops tainted with Romanism, condemned the king's new canons and Book of Prayer, and proclaimed that Episcopacy was altogether opposed to the rules of faith.
The Scots take up arms.
This was open rebellion in the king's eyes, and he immediately began to make preparations for a military expedition against Scotland. The whole country was in the hands of the Covenanters, save some of the wild Highland districts, and it was evident that a national war was impending. At the first news of the king's movements, the Scots raised an army of more than 20,000 men, led by veteran officers who had served on the Protestant side in the wars of Germany. This formidable force advanced to Dunse Law, in Berwickshire, and prepared to defend the line of the Tweed. The king had no standing army, save the troops whom Strafford had organized in Ireland: he was therefore compelled to call out the gentry and militia of the northern counties. It soon became apparent that he would not be able to rely on any willing service from these levies. Half England thought the Scots in the right; the men came in unwillingly and in inadequate numbers; and Charles found at York only a raw discontented force, quite unready to take the field. Dismayed at his weakness, he began to negotiate with the insurgents (June, 1639), but they would take no compromise, and as neither men nor money were forthcoming, the king was forced to take the desperate step of summoning a Parliament to grant him supplies.
The Short Parliament.
The two Houses met in the spring of 1640, in no placable frame of mind. Eleven years of tyranny had maddened the nation, and now that England had found her voice again, it spoke with no uncertain sound. Her mood was quickly shown. Led by John Pym, the member for Tavistock, the Commons at once announced that they were come together to discuss grievances before thinking of grants of supply. Charles immediately dissolved the Parliament ere it had sat three weeks. Hence it is known as the "Short Parliament" (April-May, 1640).
The Rout of Newburn.
Hardening his heart, Charles raised a few thousand pounds by ship-money and other illegal devices, and launched his disaffected and undisciplined army against the Scots. But the men disbanded themselves at the first shot, and, after the disgraceful rout of Newburn, the Covenanters were able to occupy Northumberland and Durham, and established their head-quarters at Newcastle (August, 1640). The king had already summoned Strafford from Ireland, and the great Lord-Deputy had come over, but without his army. He was now given command of the wrecks of the levies in the north; but even he could not compel that discontented host to stand or fight. In despair, the king saw that he must make concessions to the nation, and called a new Parliament (November 3, 1640).
The Long Parliament.
For the fifth time Charles found himself confronted with the angry representatives of the nation that he had wronged. But this time the engagement was to be no short skirmish, but a long and desperate battle, destined to endure for eight years, and to end only with his overthrow and death. The "Long Parliament," unlike its predecessors, was to exist for many years. With it the king was to fight out the great dispute for the "sovereignty" of England—to settle whether, for the future, the royal prerogative or the will of the Commons was to be the stronger factor in the governance of the realm. In the existing crisis Charles felt that he was, for the moment, entirely at the mercy of the two Houses. The exchequer was empty, the army disloyal, an active enemy was in possession of the Northern counties. He shrank from playing his last stake by bringing over Strafford's troops from Ireland to resist the Scots, though the stern Lord-Deputy strongly urged him to take that measure.
"King Pym."
When Parliament met, the same men who had been seen as members in 1628, and in the "Short Parliament" of the last spring, stood forward to confront the king. Pym at once marshalled all the forces of discontent into a compact host; so great was the power over them which he displayed, that he soon was nicknamed "King Pym" by the friends of Charles. He and his confidants were already in secret communication with the Scots, and spoke all the more boldly, because they knew that they could call down the Covenanting host on London, if the king should dare to withstand them.
Arrest of Strafford and Laud.
The "Long Parliament" met on November 3. It at once proceeded to business. Eight days later, Pym moved that Strafford should be impeached for treason, and, in the following month, Laud was also arraigned on the same charge. Both were arrested, and sent to the Tower. The king made no attempt to defend them. Apparently, he was so conscious of his helplessness, and so dismayed by the riotous mob of London, and the fierce words of the Commons, that he had completely lost his head. It is certain that, if he had resisted, none but a few courtiers would have backed him. He sank in the most extraordinary way, in six months, from an autocrat into a nerveless, hunted creature, amazed at the wrath he had roused, and quite unable to defend himself.
Trial and execution of Strafford.
The dealings of the Parliament with the two great ministers, the archbishop and the Lord-Deputy, were summary and harsh, even to injustice. It is true that both Laud and Strafford had been cruel enemies of the liberties of England, but it would have been well, in punishing them, to proceed on the best constitutional precedents, and to let the course of justice be clear and calm. Strafford was impeached before the peers, and there was brought against him a vast weight of evidence to prove that, both as President of the North and as Governor of Ireland, he had committed scores of illegal, arbitrary, and cruel acts. But that the acts amounted to treason was not evident, and Pym and his friends were determined to find Strafford guilty of nothing less. After fourteen days' sittings, the accusers suddenly determined to change their procedure. Dropping the method of impeachment, they determined to crush Strafford by a simple declaratory bill of attainder, which stated that he had committed treason, and was worthy of death. This bill was brought into the House of Commons on April 10, and all its three readings were carried in eleven days. The main point on which the charge of treason was founded, was Strafford's advice to the king to bring over the Irish army, and the only proof of that advice was a paper of notes made in the Privy Council, which had surreptitiously come into Pym's hands. [40] Strafford had said, "Your Majesty has an army in Ireland, that you may employ to reduce this kingdom to obedience." It was not even certain that "this kingdom" meant England, and not Scotland, but on that evidence Strafford was convicted of plotting to levy war against the State. The vast majority of the Commons were determined to have his blood; 204 members voted for the bill, only 59 against it, and the names of the minority were soon placarded all over London as traitors to the commonwealth. The House of Lords approved the bill of attainder, and it was sent to the king. Charles had secretly given Strafford a pardon for all his acts, and promised to save his life. But in a moment of alarm, with the angry shouts of the Londoners ringing in his ears, he gave his assent to the bill. It was an inexcusably selfish and cowardly act, the one deed in all his life which we must stamp as mean and perfidious, as well as unwise. Strafford suffered on Tower Hill, with the stern courage that had marked all his acts, muttering, "Put not your trust in princes" with his last breath (May 12, 1641).
Impeachment of Laud and others.
It was now the turn of the old archbishop. He was impeached on the 15th of December, both for illegal acts in the Star Chamber and the Court of High Commission, of which he was undoubtedly guilty, and for secret encouragement of Popery, of which he was as undoubtedly innocent. The articles drawn up against him were approved by the vote of both Houses, but he was not at once tried, but allowed to linger in the Tower, where he was to spend more than two years. Several minor ministers of the Crown were also impeached—Windebank, the secretary of state; Finch, the lord keeper; and the judges who had given the unrighteous decision in the ship-money case. The more prominent of these tools of the king saved themselves by flying over-sea.
Measures of reform.
But while bent on vengeance for the past, the Long Parliament was also desirous of securing good governance for the future. The spring and summer of 1641 saw the abolition of most of the machinery which Charles had used to carry out his tyranny. The two great unconstitutional courts, the Star Chamber and the Court of High Commission, were abolished by a law passed in July. By another, carried in February, it was provided that Parliaments should be triennial, and that, if the king refrained for three years from calling the two Houses together, they should have the right to meet without his summons. In June a bill was drawn up, declaring illegal the exaction of ship-money, benevolences, and the rest of the king's favourite forms of extortion. An excellent device for keeping the law-courts free from royal interference was found by making the judges hold their office, not during the king's pleasure, but "dum se bene gesserint"—as long as they faithfully discharged their office. This swept away the power which the Stuarts had habitually used, of displacing every judge who gave decisions against the prerogative.
The "Root-and-Branch" Bill.
If the Long Parliament had halted here, we should owe it nothing but thanks and praise. Unfortunately, however, it soon began to press on from redressing national grievances to pandering to party animosities. Most of its leading members were Puritans, and of them a majority was formed by those who had left the Church and taken to Presbyterianism. These Nonconformists were burning to revenge themselves on the Church of England for the tyranny which Laud and the Court of High Commission had exercised over them. The first symptom of their wrath was a bill for excluding the bishops from the House of Lords; this was afterwards enlarged into a scheme for abolishing the bishops altogether, and reorganizing the Church on a Presbyterian basis. In this form it was popularly known as the "Root-and-Branch" Bill, from a term used in a great London petition in its favour.
Split in the Parliamentary party.
This sweeping party measure at once threw all the moderate men in the House, who remained loyal Churchmen, though they were also constitutional reformers, into a violent opposition to the majority. After much fierce debating, Pym and his friends passed the second reading by a small majority (138 to 105) in May, 1641. The third reading was bitterly debated all through the summer, but never carried through; in face of the danger of splitting the party of reform, the promoters of the bill wisely dropped it (August, 1641). But they never succeeded in reuniting the Churchmen to themselves in the firm alliance that had existed before. Men like Lord Falkland, Edward Hyde, John Colepepper, and others of equally liberal views, began to doubt the wisdom of continuing to act with a party which was tending to appear more like a synod of fanatics than a committee of constitutional reformers.
Position of the king.
It was the appearance of this split in the Parliament that first brought some comfort to the disconsolate Charles. After giving a weak and insincere assent to every bill that was sent up to him in the summer, he began to pluck up his heart in the autumn of 1641. It was now his cue to assume the position of a constitutional king, and to accept the present position of affairs. But in his heart he was, no doubt, beginning to dream of ridding himself of his oppressors by the aid of the Church party and the moderate men. He spent the autumn in a visit to Scotland, where he endeavoured to conciliate the Covenanters by granting every request that they laid before him. But, at the same time, he was in secret negotiation with those of the Scottish nobles who disliked the domination of the Kirk, and was endeavouring to build up a Royalist party in the land.
The Irish Rebellion.
It was while Charles lay in the north that there burst out troubles in Ireland, which were fated to do him no small harm. The iron hand of Strafford had kept the Irish down for a space, in spite of all the wrongs and injustice which he had committed. When Strafford, however, was gone, the wrath of the oppressed natives boiled over, with all the more vigour because of this cruel repression. In October, 1641, there broke out a great national and religious rebellion, such as had not been seen since the days of Elizabeth. The old Irish clans rose to cast out and slay the English colonists. The Anglo-Irish Catholics of the Pale took arms at the same time, not to make Ireland independent, but to compel the king to take off all laws against Romanism, and turn the island into a Catholic country. In the North of Ireland, where the plantation of Ulster had worked the cruelest wrongs, the rising was attended with horrible atrocities. The natives, headed by Sir Phelim O'Neil, a distant kinsman of the old Earls of Tyrone, slew some 5000 of the unarmed colonists in cold blood. Many thousands more died from cold and starvation, being cast out of their dwellings and hunted away naked in the cold autumn weather. Unhappily for the king, the rebels thought it wise to give out that they acted by his permission in taking arms, and that they only struck at the English Parliament and the Protestant religion. Phelim O'Neil even showed a letter purporting to come from Charles, and bearing the royal seal of Scotland, where the king at that moment was staying. It was a forgery, and the seal was taken from an old deed; but the English Puritans would believe anything of Charles, and jumped to the conclusion that he was guilty of fostering the rising, and therefore of authorizing the massacre.
The Grand Remonstrance.
Under the stress of the news from Ireland, the Long Parliament reassembled in the winter of 1641-42, in no amiable frame of mind. They signalized their reassembly by putting forth the "Grand Remonstrance," a kind of historical summary of all the illegalities which Charles had committed since his accession, followed by a list of their own reforms already carried out, and a scheme for further reforms to come. These last were to include a bill to make the king choose no ministers or officials save such as Parliament should recommend to him, another for the complete suppression of Romanism, and a third for the "reformation" of the Church of England in the direction of pure Protestantism, that is, of extreme Puritanism. The first half of the "Remonstrance" passed the Commons with little opposition, but the last clauses, which practically bound the House to abolish Episcopacy and turn the Established Church into a Presbyterian Kirk, were hotly opposed by all the moderate party. In the end they passed by a narrow majority of eleven. But the victory of the Puritans involved a complete schism in the House. All the Church party now resolved that they would go no further; they would rather trust the king, in spite of all his faults, than the fanatical Presbyterians. For the first time in his life, Charles found himself allied to a powerful party in the Lower House.
Attempted arrest of the five members.
He might have regained much of his authority if he had now played his cards wisely. But unwisdom was always his characteristic. Taking heart at the divisions among the Commons, he resolved to attempt a coup d'état. On January 4, 1642, he suddenly came down to the House, with a great armed retinue of three or four hundred men, intending to arrest the five chiefs of the Puritan party—Pym, Hampden, Holles, Hazelrig, and Strode. They had received warning of his approach, and fled to the City, where the London militia armed in thousands to protect them. The king looked round the House, and noted that the five members were not present. "I see the birds are flown," he exclaimed, and, after an awkward speech of apology, left the House.
Charles leaves London.
The plan had completely failed. The Puritans were warned that the king was ready to resume his old illegal habits, and had not learnt his new position as a constitutional ruler. Charles himself was so mortified at the frustration of his scheme, that he hastily decamped, abandoning his capital to the Parliament and its enthusiastic supporters, the merchants and burgesses of the City.
Preparations for war.—The Royalist party.
The die was now cast. The next six months were occupied by both sides in preparations for war, which was evidently at hand. Every man had now to choose his side and make up his mind. The king went round the Midlands, holding conferences with all whom he thought might be induced to support him. He found more encouragement than he had expected. A large majority of the peerage were on his side. They objected to being ruled by a House of Commons which had grown violent and fanatical. Almost the whole body of Churchmen all over the kingdom were also ready to join him. When forced to choose between a king who had been guilty of oppression and unwisdom, but who was undoubtedly a good Churchman like themselves, and a Parliament ruled by schismatics who wished to wreck the old Church, they reluctantly but firmly threw in their lot with Charles. There were whole shires where the Puritans were few and the Church was strong, and in these the king found promise of steady support. There were thousands who were moved by the old instinct of loyalty, and thousands more who hoped—unwisely perhaps, but whole-heartedly—that their master had learnt moderation, and would, if triumphant, never return to his old courses. Meanwhile Charles took a step which showed that he was preparing for the worst. He sent his wife over-sea, with all the money he could collect, and his crown jewels, bidding her spend the whole in buying munitions of war in France and Holland.
The Commons claim control of the militia.
The Parliamentarians also were making their preparations. They were determined to get possession of the armed force of the nation—the militia, or "train-bands" of the shires and boroughs. With this object they sent the king proposals, which they could hardly expect him to accept, that for the future the right to call out and officer the militia should be vested in the two Houses, and not in the Crown. The negative answer was promptly sent them back from Newmarket. They then proceeded to pass an ordinance, arrogating to themselves the right to nominate the lord-lieutenants, the official commanders of the militia, and ordering military authorities to look for their orders to the Houses, and not to the king. This ordinance never received the royal sanction, and was, of course, illegal in form; nevertheless, it was acted upon.
Charles at Hull.
The crisis began when, in April, the king called on Sir John Hotham, governor of Hull, to admit him within the walls of that town, and make over to him a store of arms and munitions which lay there. Hotham shut the gates, and answered that he took orders from the Parliament alone.
The next two months were spent by both parties in gathering armies. In June the king sent "commissions of array" to trustworthy persons in every county, bidding them muster men in his name. The Parliament replied, not only by putting the militia under arms, but by raising new levies for permanent service in the field, under officers whom they could trust. They gave the supreme command to the Earl of Essex, the man who thirty years before had been so cruelly wronged by James I. and his favourite Somerset.
On August 22 the king set up his standard at Nottingham, and bade all his friends come to meet him. At the same time, Essex marched north from London. The war had begun.