CHAPTER XII.
Westminster Assembly.
Some desire for a conference of Divines manifested itself immediately after the opening of the Long Parliament. Baillie had scarcely reached London, on his first mission, in 1640, when he began to speak of an Assembly in England, which was to be called together to perfect the work of reform; though, with characteristic wariness, the Scotch Commissioner said that such an Assembly "at this time would spoil all," because the clergy were so "very corrupt."[335] Dering, in the debates of October, 1641, as we have seen, recommended a synod of grave Divines; and the same measure was sanctioned by the grand Remonstrance in the winter of the same year. The Puritan clergy also, in a petition presented on the 20th of December, intreated that the consideration of ecclesiastical matters might be entrusted to a free synod, differing in constitution from the Convocation of the clergy.[336] Other proofs of the prevailing wish might be adduced. At length, on the 15th of October, 1642, a Bill was introduced into Parliament for the purpose so much desired; and on its passing through a committee of the Commons two significant resolutions were adopted; first, that the vote against Bishops should be appended to the Bill; and secondly, that the Parliament did not intend wholly to abrogate the Prayer Book. These additions indicated the existence of an anti-episcopal spirit, together with a lingering love for the ancient liturgy. Revolutionary ideas were still kept in check by conservative instincts, and whilst the tide of change was at the flood, sweeping the Church forward to a new position, the legislators were not prepared to let it drift away entirely from its ancient moorings. For want of the royal assent, this Bill for an assembly, after having passed both Houses, was, constitutionally considered, a dead letter. So, to remedy as far as possible the defect—the country having reached the crisis of a revolution, and the King's concurrence in the measure being hopeless—Parliament, convinced of its urgent importance, boldly issued an ordinance, bearing date the 12th of June, 1643, commanding that an Assembly of Divines should be convened at Westminster on the 1st of July following. The document recognized the Church of England as still undestroyed, by alluding to "many things in its liturgy, discipline, and government requiring further and more perfect reformation." The theory of proceeding was not to overturn and ruin one establishment first and then to create and fashion another, but only to alter that which continued in existence; yet the resolution to abolish prelatical government as soon as possible, being cited in the ordinance, that instrument, though it did not in itself go so far as formally to extinguish episcopal rule, left no doubt of a foregone conclusion in the mind of the legislators that an end must be put to the ancient hierarchy. Ecclesiastical government was to be settled so as to be most agreeable to God's Word, and most adapted to procure and preserve the peace of the Church at home, as well as to promote nearer agreement with the Church in Scotland, and other reformed communions abroad. This document, without mentioning Presbyterianism, plainly pointed to it.
1643, July.
Thirty lay assessors were named first, and the priority of their enumeration indicates that the lay element occupied no subordinate place.[337]
Some of the persons selected were so eminent that it was impossible they should not occupy a very influential position in the conference to which they were called. John Selden, Bulstrode Whitelocke, Oliver St. John, Sir Benjamin Rudyard, John Pym, and Sir Harry Vane were of the number. Selden and Whitelocke frequently attended, and took a leading part in some of the debates.
Constitution of the Assembly.
Lay names were followed by those of one hundred and twenty one Divines. Episcopalians were not excluded. Ussher, of world-wide celebrity, Archbishop of Armagh and Bishop of Carlisle; Brownrigg, Bishop of Exeter; Westfield, of Bristol; and Prideaux, of Worcester, are to be found on the roll, with five more persons included, who afterwards became Bishops.[338] These appointments would fall in with the views of such Members of Parliament as still wished for a modified Episcopacy. But names of this order, whilst they saved appearances and gave additional weight to the convention, were too few to tell in divisions; nor could any Episcopalians, identified with a sinking cause, and unbacked by any strong party amongst the Commons, expect to have much influence in the proposed deliberations. A small band of persons, called Independents, of whom we shall have to speak at large, were also amongst the theologians summoned: but what they lacked in numbers and in position was compensated for by force of character and vigour of intellect, and by what availed even more—the enjoyment of friendship with those who were destined ere long to guide the entire affairs of the kingdom. Indeed, according to Calamy—a safe authority for the statement—one of the Independent brethren, Philip Nye, had "a great concern in choosing the members of the Assembly of Divines who were summoned from all parts."[339]
The decided, nay, the overwhelming majority of those summoned to Westminster were Presbyterians. For that party in England had by this time been greatly multiplied, and it had also much power in Parliament, and derived advantage from the favour naturally manifested towards it by the Scotch.
1643, July.
The Assembly of Divines was appointed by secular authority: in this respect, however, it only resembled other ecclesiastical conventions. Œcumenical synods, as they are ostentatiously called, have in point of fact been "Imperial gatherings."[340] That they owed their existence to the civil power was a necessity arising from the union between Church and State; and the necessity is recognized in the twenty-first Article of the Church of England, where it is said that "General councils may not be gathered together, but by the commandment and will of princes." Convocations of clergy according to this Article, and according to the fundamental principles of the English constitution, are entirely dependent upon the Crown. Parliament, therefore, by constituting the Westminster Assembly, so as to make it rest on a political basis, did not invade the ecclesiastical rights of the Establishment, it only usurped the ecclesiastical power of the Crown. And it may be worth observing that the same authority, in selecting the place and time of meeting, in making provision for those whom it called together, and in paying their expenses,[341] did but adopt the policy of Constantine at the Council of Nicæa. But the Parliament went still further in the appointment and control of the Westminster Assembly than emperors and kings had ever done in reference to Œcumenical councils and national convocations.[342] It first nominated the individuals who were to be members, and then it took the direction of affairs entirely into its own hands, without relaxing its hold for a moment: the carefully-worded warrant allowing no liberty beyond this—that the Divines should consult and advise on matters and things proposed to them by both or either of the Houses, and give their advice and counsel as often as required; and in all cases of difficulty refer to the authority which had called them together. A clause is inserted forbidding the assumption of any ecclesiastical jurisdiction, or any power whatever, except that which the ordinance carefully defined. And also—in this respect, exceeding the regal control over Convocation—Parliament chose the Prolocutor of the Assembly, and filled up vacancies when they occurred. Nor should it be forgotten that the State exercised in reference to ecclesiastical matters all the functions which we have described, not because there remained no Episcopal clergy to elect members of Convocation, nor because there existed no Presbyteries to delegate members to a General Assembly, but simply because a perfect horror of ecclesiastical despotism had taken possession of the minds of those who had now become the civil rulers of the realm.
Meeting of the Assembly.
On the day appointed (Saturday, July 1, 1643), many of the Assembly, together with a large congregation of other persons, gathered within the walls of the grand national abbey of Westminster, "both Houses of Parliament being present."[343] The Prolocutor, Dr. Twiss—of whom it was said that the school, not the pulpit, was his proper element—preached from John xiv. 18, "I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you;" from which text he exhorted his hearers faithfully to discharge their high calling to the glory of God and the honour of His Church; and, whilst lamenting that the royal assent was wanting to give them comfort and encouragement, the preacher hoped through the efficacy of their prayers that the sanction of his Majesty might in due time be obtained, and that a happy union might be accomplished between King and Parliament. After the conclusion of the discourse, the Divines and other members ascended the broad flight of steps leading to Henry the Seventh's chapel, where, upon the roll being called over, sixty-nine persons answered to their names.
1643, July.
Meeting of the Assembly.
The vaulted roof springing from the clustered pillars in the walls—like branches of lofty trees interlaced together, forming a rich canopy of leaves, while the bossed pendants resemble stalactites—though appearing to most persons now, even those who feel strong Puritan sympathies, a monument of exquisite taste and consummate skill—would be regarded by those who on this occasion assembled beneath its shadow, as mainly, if not exclusively, a symbol of that "petrifaction of Christianity" which to their great grief had over-arched mediæval Christendom. Dressed in black cloaks, and wearing bands, and skull caps, as they walked over pavements heretofore trodden by prelates and priests in mitres and copes, they would be reminded of what they deemed superstitious and idolatrous worship; and as they now met in assembly where Convocations had before been wont to gather,[344] they would think of obnoxious canons, and of Archbishop Laud, with feelings of pain—if not of bitterness—such as the charms of Gothic architecture had no power to subdue. Their principles, and the principles of the Church before the Reformation, were in mutual opposition. And, as we watch the Divines entering within those gates—well described by one who himself came from the land of the Pilgrim Fathers, as "richly and delicately wrought, and turning heavily upon their hinges, as if proudly reluctant to admit the feet of common mortals into this most gorgeous of sepulchers"[345]—we may fancy that the gates, if they had sympathy with those who caused them to be hung there, would open that morning more reluctantly than they had ever done before. Altogether, the scene and the purpose for which the Assembly met marked a new era, not only in the history of the Abbey but in the annals of the Church and the nation.
1643, July.
Westfield, Bishop of Bristol, and some few other Episcopalians out of the number summoned, were present at this first meeting; and, as Fuller says, they "seemed the only Nonconformists amongst them for their conformity, whose gowns and canonical habits differed from all the rest."[346] The majority of the Episcopal Divines, however, declined to attend, because the Assembly had been prohibited by royal proclamation; and because, not being chosen by the clergy, it had no proper representative character. They objected to it also on account of its containing a mixture of the laity; whilst all its members, whether divines or laymen, were of the Puritan stamp, and were, according to the terms of the ordinance which gave it existence, virtually pledged to the demolition of the hierarchy. The reply which was afterwards given by the Parliament to the objection that the Assembly had not been ecclesiastically elected, instead of mending the matter in the eyes of a High Churchman, would only make it appear all the worse; for the Parliament plainly declared the Assembly to be no national synod or representative body at all, but only a committee of advice;—adding that the civil power had a right to choose its own counsel, and ought not to be dependent for that upon the nomination of clergymen.[347] For the reasons just indicated, the few Episcopalians who at first appeared in the Assembly speedily dropped off. Brownrigg, Bishop of Exeter, sent a letter on the 12th of July, excusing absence in consequence of "the tie of the Vice-Chancellorship in the University that lay upon him:" probably there were other ties which hindered his Lordship's attendance, but what they were he did not care to specify.
Parliamentary Directions.
On Thursday, July the 6th, the Divines and lay assessors assembled again, when they received further directions from Parliament of a very precise description. The directions were, that two assessors or vice-chairmen should be associated with the Prolocutor to supply his place in case of absence; that scribes or secretaries should keep a record of the proceedings; and that these officers should be Henry Roborough and Adoniram Byfield, Divines not members of the Assembly; that every member, on his entrance, should make a solemn protestation not to maintain any thing but what he believed to be truth; that no question should be resolved on the day it was propounded; that whatever any one undertook to prove to be necessary, he should make good from Scripture; that no one should continue to speak after the Prolocutor had silenced him, unless the Assembly desired him to proceed; that the members should have liberty to record their dissent from the conclusions adopted by the majority; and that all things agreed upon and prepared for the Parliament should be openly read and allowed.[348] The bye-laws which were to regulate their proceedings were thus so minutely prescribed, that very little indeed was left for the Divines to perform in the way of preliminary arrangement. All which they actually did in this respect was to nominate Mr. White[349] and Dr. Burgess as assessors, and to resolve that the sittings should be opened with prayer; that afterwards the names of members should be called over; that the hour of meeting in the morning should be ten o'clock, the afternoon being reserved for committees; and that three of the Divines should officiate weekly as chaplains—one to the House of Lords, another to the House of Commons, and a third to the Committee of both kingdoms. Still further, to illustrate how, with this modicum of liberty in relation to the management of its own business, the Westminster Assembly found itself under the authority of its neighbouring masters, especially those in St. Stephen's Chapel—we may observe that on the 27th of July an order from both Houses was read, requiring a letter to be written to the United Provinces in behalf of Ireland. On the 28th of July an ordinance from the Commons followed, for appointing a committee to examine plundered ministers, with a view to their admission into sequestrated livings; and on the 14th of August there came a command to send divers metropolitan divines up and down the country, to stir up the zeal of the people in the cause of patriotism, and to vindicate the justice of Parliament in taking up arms for the defence of its liberties.[350]
1643, October.
The first subject of a strictly theological kind submitted to the Assembly was the revision of the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England. A sub-committee spent ten weeks in debating upon the first fifteen; and the result appeared in a draft of proposed alterations.[351] In the middle of October, we discover the Divines, through the dim light thrown on their proceedings by Lightfoot's Journal, "busy upon the sixteenth Article," and upon "that clause of it which mentioneth departing from grace," when an order came from both Houses of Parliament, commanding them speedily to take in hand the discipline and liturgy of the Church.
The circumstances of the country shaped the proceedings of the Divines no less than those of the Legislators. It may be said of the new system they were engaged to construct that—"the street" of the city was built again, and "the wall, even in troublous times." War had begun to kindle its fires far and wide; and it is necessary for us to turn our attention to military affairs and the fortunes of the battle-field, in order that we may understand what followed in the Westminster Assembly.
A heavy blow had befallen the Parliament in the month of March, 1643, when Lord Brooke had been killed at the siege of Lichfield. He had prepared for an assault on the Royalist troops, who were in possession of the cathedral; and just as he was standing under the porch of a house, and directing a battery against the Close gate—the spot is still pointed out to the visitor in that quiet little city—the Puritan commander was shot by a musket ball. His death created a great sensation, and was differently interpreted by contemporaries, according to their political and ecclesiastical opinions. Laud pronounced it a Divine judgment for Brooke's sins. Parliamentarians celebrated it as a glorious sacrifice offered up in the cause of patriotism and religion.
John Hampden.
1643, June.
Another loss had to be sustained in the month of June. Early one Sunday morning, Prince Rupert, with a skirmishing party, drew up his men in order of battle amidst the standing corn of Chalgrove Field. John Hampden, who had spent the night in the immediate neighbourhood, adventured, contrary to the wishes of his friends, to throw himself into this at first apparently unimportant action. With characteristic bravery, he led an attack, and, on the first charge at the head of his troops, received in his shoulder two carbine balls. He rode off the field, "his head bending down, and his hands resting on his horse's neck." Though fainting with pain, he cleared a brook on the road to Thame, and on reaching that town had his wounds dressed. Conscious of danger, he first despatched letters of counsel to Parliament, and then prepared for his departure from the world. After six days of severe suffering, and about seven hours before his death, he received the Lord's supper, declaring that, "though he could not away with the governance of the Church by bishops, and did utterly abominate the scandalous lives of some clergymen, he thought its doctrine in the greater part primitive and conformable to God's word, as in holy Scripture revealed." Dr. Giles, the rector of Chinnor, and Dr. Spurstow, the chaplain of his regiment, attended him in his last moments. He died in prayer, uttering, "O Lord, God of Hosts! great is Thy mercy, just and holy are Thy dealings unto us sinful men. Save me, O Lord, if it be Thy good will, from the jaws of death; pardon my manifold transgressions. O Lord, save my bleeding country. Have these realms in Thy special keeping. Confound and level in the dust those who would rob the people of their liberty and lawful prerogative. Let the King see his error, and turn the hearts of his wicked counsellors from the malice and wickedness of their designs. Lord Jesus, receive my soul! O Lord, save my country! O Lord, be merciful to...." As he uttered these words, his speech failed, and then, falling backwards, he expired. His remains were conveyed to the churchyard of Great Hampden, close beside the old family mansion, where the patriot had spent so much of his life in the studies and the sports of a country gentleman. Through lanes under the beech-covered chalk hills of the Chilterns, a detachment of his favourite troops, bare-headed, carried him to his last resting-place—their arms reversed, their drums and ensigns muffled—mournfully chanting, as they slowly marched along, the dirge from the Book of Psalms: "Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations;—thou turnest man to destruction;—thou carriest them away as with a flood;—they are as a sleep; in the morning they are like grass which groweth up, in the morning it flourisheth and groweth up, in the evening it is cut down and withereth." When the funeral was over, the soldiers, returning from the village church to their quarters, made the green woods and the white hills that summer day resound to the beautiful prayer and the cheerful song, so appropriate to their present circumstances: "Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation. O, deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man! For thou art the God of my strength, why dost thou cast me off? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me; let me bring them unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. Then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceeding joy: yea, upon the harp will I praise thee, O God, my God. Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance and my God."[352]
John Hampden.
The death of Hampden was bewailed even more than that of Brooke. "The memory of this deceased Colonel," said the Weekly Intelligencer, "is such that in no age to come but it will more and more be had in honour and esteem; a man so religious, and of that prudence, judgment, temper, valour, and integrity, that he hath left few his like behind him." The old newspaper was right in its prediction of Hampden's growing fame.
Other calamities overtook the Parliament cause. From the spring of the year, success had followed the King's banners. Royalists occupied Devon and Dorset; and the Earl of Wilmot had beaten Waller at Lansdowne and at Devizes. Summer saw the defeat of Lord Fairfax in Yorkshire. But Charles' victories at that period culminated in the taking of Bradford, after the battle of Atherton Moor, and in the capture of Bristol just before the siege of Gloucester.
Bradford and Gloucester were Puritan towns, beleaguered by what they looked upon as prelatical armies; and the incidents connected with the siege of each serve at once to bring out some curious features in the memorable strife, and to shew the declining condition of the Parliament, at the time when the Westminster Assembly held its first sittings. Bradford had suffered assault so early as December, 1642. The Royalists, who were encamped at Bowling Hill, had selected Sunday morning, as the Puritans were attending church, to plant their guns against the steeple; but a snowfall, the bursting of a cannon, and other misadventures on the part of the besiegers, for a time saved the besieged. The following midsummer, the church, which was still the prize in dispute, endured "many a shake," whilst the people hung up wool-packs by the side of the building, only to see, however, almost immediately afterwards, the ropes cut down by the shots of the enemy.[353]
On Lord's-day morning, the Royalists beat drums for a parley, and spent all the day in removing their guns "into the mouth of the town," the inhabitants being so reduced that they had little ammunition, and for their matches were compelled to use "untwisted cords dipped in oil." About sunset the parley ended, when a shot killed three men who were sitting on a bench; and during all night the valley shone with the flash of artillery. When resistance became useless, the vanquished thought that the Earl of Newcastle, who commanded the King's troops, would shew them no mercy; but he gave them quarter, on the ground, as was superstitiously rumoured, that an apparition on a Sunday night had pulled the clothes from off his bed several times, crying in tones of lamentation, "Pity poor Bradford." "A young Puritan gentleman," reported as having attempted to break through the enemy's lines, became famous in after days as David Clarkson, the Nonconformist divine.[354]
1643, August.
Siege of Gloucester.
The siege of Gloucester was commenced on August the 10th, 1643. The Parliamentary committee, believing that the metropolis would not be safe if Gloucester were taken, sent a strong force for its relief, under the Earl of Essex, for the better furtherance of the service, and required all persons "dwelling within the lines of communication" immediately to shut up their shops, and to keep them closed till the beleaguered should be delivered. The King, sitting down about a quarter of a mile distant from the old cathedral city, despatched two heralds to demand surrender. They returned to the royal camp with two men, lean and pale, of "bald visages," and in such strange garb and carriage—according to Clarendon[355]—that the merriest were made sad, and yet even the grave were provoked to laughter. These poor Puritan envoys, whom the Royalist historian saw with jaundiced eyes, manifested not a little bravery and firmness, when they delivered a message from their fellow-townsmen in these memorable words—"We do keep this city according to our oath and allegiance, to and for the use of his Majesty and his royal posterity; and do accordingly conceive ourselves wholly bound to obey the commands of his Majesty, signified by both Houses of Parliament; and are resolved, by God's help, to keep this city accordingly."[356]
1643, September.
The Gloucester men, made of this sturdy mettle, forthwith set to work and raised entrenchments; and the Gloucester women seem to have caught the spirit of their husbands and fathers, for matrons and maids wrought all the afternoon in the little mead, fetching in turf to repair the works, whilst the soldiers, on the other side, cut off the pipes which supplied the city conduits, and diverted the waters which drove the mills. On Sunday, which seems to have been with the Royalists a favourite day for such work, the engineers planted pieces of ordnance on a battery at Gawdy Green, and thence plied their shots; but breaches were no sooner made in the fortifications than they were mended, through the untiring energy and courage of the inhabitants, who employed wool-sacks in repairing the damage done. From day to day for three whole weeks, some incident occurred to alarm or encourage the people, till, on Sunday, September the 3rd, when they were at church, news came that the besiegers had planted a store of cannon-baskets at the east gate, and that it was supposed they intended there to spring a mine. The Puritan preacher hearing this, dismissed his audience without any sermon, when the men, equally prepared to pray or fight, immediately began to line the houses over the east gate, and to make a strong breastwork across the street.
The renowned William Chillingworth, we may observe in passing, "was in Charles's camp, engaged in bringing his classical knowledge to bear upon the contrivance of engines ("after the manner of the Roman testudines cum pluteis.") They ran upon cart wheels, we are told, with a musket-proof covering to conceal the assailants, who shot through holes; and these machines—which were odd things for a clergyman to make—were also furnished with a protection to rest on the breastworks, and so to form a complete bridge over the ditch into the city. The employment of a divine in military matters was then by no means a peculiar circumstance; for it is a little curious that his antagonist, Francis Cheynell, Fellow of Merton College, Oxford, accompanied the Earl of Essex into Cornwall, where he shewed a soldierly courage, and where it was said his commands were as readily obeyed as the general's own.[357]
After much suffering by the citizens of Gloucester, the siege was raised by the Earl of Essex, on the 5th of September.
Effect of War on the Assembly.
These military events at the very beginning powerfully influenced the Westminster Assembly. As the members mourned the loss of illustrious captains, reports of disastrous turns in the fate of war would be brought to London from Yorkshire, by the letter-carriers, who rode along the dusty roads in those long summer days; and the Divines, amidst their theological discussions, would anxiously listen to tidings respecting the army. The success of their cause, if not their personal safety, depended upon the acquisition of some military advantages at that critical juncture, and therefore—whilst feeling that only God could help them—they presented, on the 19th of July, to the two Houses, a petition, in which—after expressing their fear of the Divine wrath, manifested by the sad and unexpected defeats in the north and west—they implored, as watchmen set on the walls of the Church and the kingdom, that a day of solemn fasting and humiliation might be fixed for universal observance throughout the cities of London and Westminster: and with a further view of removing Divine displeasure, they entreated, that Parliament would speedily set up Christ more gloriously in all His ordinances within the kingdom, and remove throughout the land all things which were amiss. Then followed a painful enumeration of national evils, including brutish ignorance, pollution of the Lord's Supper, corruption of doctrine, profanation of the Sabbath, blind guides and scandalous ministers, and finally, the prevalence of vice, idolatry, and superstition.[358]
1643, August.
The fall of Bristol on the 26th of July, preparing as it did for the siege of Gloucester, further alarmed the Assembly, who would not fail also to watch with trembling anxiety the progress of the assaults on the latter city. In the month of August, all London too was in a state of excitement, as disastrous news from the west reached it day by day. Some of the citizens were in favour of propositions of peace voted in the House of Lords; others—the majority—influenced by Alderman Pennington and by Pym, who eventually prevailed on the Commons to reject the Peers' propositions, were for resisting the royal army to the utmost, though the waves of war should surge up to the very walls. In the strife the pulpits had a share; and on the Sunday after the propositions were submitted to the Commons, the Divines of the popular party eloquently appealed to their disheartened hearers in favour of opposing the overtures of the Upper House, at a moment when the Monarch was successful in the field, and persisted in his proclamations against the freedom of the Parliament.[359]
In the midst of these untoward events, help from Scotland had become more than ever necessary, and the eyes of Statesmen, Divines, and Citizens were turned in that direction. Yet some even of the staunch Presbyterians of England were reluctant in this extremity to rely upon their neighbours; and Calamy, in a speech at Guildhall, when the question was mooted, pronounced it a great shame that Englishmen should stand in need of others to aid them in the preservation of their own lives and liberties.[360] Repeated references to the unwillingness of the nation to ask and receive assistance from the north occur in Baillie's letters.[361]
Commissioners sent to Scotland.
But Parliament, being compelled by circumstances, resolved, as early as July, to send Commissioners to negotiate a treaty of assistance with their brethren of the north. Sir Harry Vane was one of the number.[362] With this embassy the Westminster Assembly determined to unite an ecclesiastical deputation, and chose for the purpose Stephen Marshall, the Presbyterian, and Philip Nye, the Independent. Letters were sent through their hands both to the Convention of States, and to the General Assembly, seeking succour for the war and the addition of some Scotch Divines to the meeting at Westminster. The letter to the General Assembly of Scotland set forth the deplorable condition of England, as on the edge of a precipice, ready to plunge into the jaws of Satan; and the perils of the Church, as threatening the safety of Protestantism at large. Prayers and advice were implored with a view to promote the kingdom's peace with God, and to strengthen the people in standing up against Antichrist.
On Monday, the 7th of August, the English Commissioners landed at Leith; and Baillie reports that the Lords went down to welcome them at the harbour, and then conveyed them up to Edinburgh in a coach.
1643, August.
The General Assembly shewed how impressed it was with the idea that the visit now paid was no ordinary one. "We were exhorted," says our informant, in all these minute matters "to be more grave than ordinary; and so, indeed, all was carried to the end with much more awe and gravity than usual." With a punctilious formality, borrowed, it was said, from the like usage in the reception of their own Commissioners by the English Parliament, the Scotch arranged that the access of the delegates to the Assembly should be at first only that of private spectators; "for which end a place commodious above in a loft, was appointed for them." Then followed an interview between them and a deputation from the General Assembly, to whom were presented the documents brought from London. One paper, subscribed by above seventy English Divines, supplicating help "in a most deplorable style," as soon as it was read drew tears from many eyes. The loss of Bristol was reported, and fear was expressed lest his Majesty might march to London. Cautiously did the Scotch consult sundry times with the prime nobles, in the Moderator's chamber, before taking any decided step. One night all present were bent on peaceful mediation, proposing to act as friends between the belligerents, and not to espouse exclusively the side of either. Lord Warristone "alone did shew the vanity of that motion and the impossibility of it." Words now would come too late, and the Scotch must arm or do nothing; they must cross the Tweed with pike and gun, or leave English Puritans to their hard fate. The Assembly at length decided on recommending military aid on these grounds:—the war was a religious one; the Protestant faith was in danger; gratitude for former assistance required a suitable return; both Churches were embarked on the same bottom; the prospects of uniformity between the two kingdoms would strengthen the Protestant cause all over Europe; and, finally, the English Parliament stood in friendly relation to the Scotch, who felt that they could never trust King Charles.[363]
Commissioners in Scotland.
Terms of union now became the absorbing question, and hard debates ensued. The English Commissioners preferred a civil league, and the Scotch were earnest for a religious covenant. The former wished for a bond of reciprocal aid between nation and nation to maintain the interests of civil liberty; the latter longed for a holy confederation between church and church, for the maintenance of Protestant truth and worship, against papal and prelatic superstitions. As Vane and Nye belonged to a party in England which advocated religious toleration, and as the latter avowed himself an Independent, they would both be averse to the establishment of such uniformity as was advocated by Presbyterians, and would be anxious to keep a door open for the admission of congregational liberty. "Against this," Baillie states, "we were peremptory." What was to be done? Succour from the Scotch was indispensable, but the Scotch had determined not to grant it save on their own conditions. The English Commissioners therefore felt compelled to enter into a compromise; and stipulating that it should be a League to meet their own views of it as a civil compact, they yet allowed it to be a Covenant for the satisfaction of those who chiefly valued its religious character and bearings. Without impugning the motives of either party, we must say, now that the lapse of more than two centuries has hushed to silence the tempestuous controversy, that this modification of the compact seems very much like playing at a game of words, and that, after all this hair-splitting, the two contracting powers became equally bound to the whole agreement, however they might choose to interpret the phraseology. The English Commissioners, by accepting the Covenant, pledged themselves to the cause of which the Scotch Presbyterians regarded it as the symbol; and looking at the ecclesiastical opinions of Vane and Nye, we cannot defend their conduct on this occasion against the charge of inconsistency. The Commissioners believed they had accomplished an important object by what they had done; and when the Solemn League and Covenant came before the General Assembly, a hearty affection toward England was "expressed in tears of pity and joy by very many grave, wise, and old men," as the moderator, Mr. Henderson, after making an oration, read over the document twice amidst loud applause.
1643, August.
Three Scotch Commissioners, with Philip Nye, set sail on the thirtieth of August; but eight days before they started, the English had despatched a ketch, with a duplicate copy of the famous instrument, and on the first of September it reached the Westminster Assembly.
Some of the members, especially the Scotch Divines, were prepared to receive it exactly as it was, cordially sympathizing in all its sentiments, but others, particularly Dr. Twiss, the Prolocutor, Dr. Burgess, and Mr. Gataker, stumbled at the condemnation of prelacy. They were averse "to the English diocesan frame," and if that was meant by the word prelacy they could agree in the condemnation of it; nevertheless they were advocates for the ancient and moderate form of Episcopacy, with some admixture of Presbyterian rule, and could not agree to the use of any expression which, with regard to that rule, might seem to convey any censure. To meet this difficulty, a parenthesis was introduced describing the exact nature of the prelacy opposed viz., "Church government by Archbishops, Bishops, Deans and Chapters, Archdeacons, and all other ecclesiastical offices depending on that hierarchy."[364]
The Covenant.
Covenants were, of old, favourites with the nation of Scotland, and they present in their spirit, though not their form, a strong resemblance to that very noble Hebrew one, in the days of Asa, the king of Judah, when "the people entered into a covenant to seek the Lord God of their fathers with all their heart and with all their soul"—"and they sware unto the Lord with a loud voice"—"and all Judah rejoiced at the oath."[365]
The first Scotch Covenant was taken in 1557, "to establish the most blessed word of God and His congregation," and to "forsake and renounce the congregation of Satan;" by which, of course, we are to understand the apostate Church of Rome. Another succeeded in 1581, protesting against Popish doctrines and rites, as being full of superstition and idolatry. In 1638, a third is found, including a transcript of the confession of 1581, a summary of Parliamentary acts condemnatory of the Papal religion, and a new declaration drawn up by Henderson; the subscribers to which swore they would continue in their Protestant profession, defend it against errors and corruptions, and stand by the King in support of the religion, laws, and liberties of the realm.[366]
1643, September.
The New League and Covenant of 1643, the origin of which we have just described, differed from former ones by the addition of an express resolve to extirpate prelacy as well as popery. It consisted of six articles, pledging subscribers to preserve the established religion of Scotland, to endeavour to bring the Church of God in the three kingdoms to the nearest possible uniformity and conjunction, to aim at the extirpation of popery and prelacy, superstition, heresy, schism, profaneness, and whatsoever is contrary to sound doctrine and the power of godliness, to preserve the privileges of Parliament and the liberties of the kingdom, to search out malignants, and promote peace, and to defend every one belonging to the brotherhood of the Covenant.[367]
With intense ardour was the engagement entered into by the Scotch, who venerated and loved these symbols of confederation. The Covenant passed from city to city, from town to town, from village to village, gathering together the men of the plain and the men of the mountain, like the fiery cross, which summoned the clan round their chieftain's banner.
"O'er hill and dale the summons flew, Nor rest nor pause the herald knew, Not faster o'er thy feathery braes, Balquidder speeds the midnight blaze, Rushing in conflagration strong, The deep ravines, and dells along. Each valley, each sequester'd glen, Mustered its little horde of men That met, as torrents from the height, In highland dales, when streams unite, Still gathering as they pour along, A voice more loud, a tide more strong."
Taking of the Covenant.
The Scotch wished to see the Covenant embraced with the same love and zeal in the cities, towns, and villages of England, but in this they were disappointed. The adoption of the Covenant, however, at Westminster, was a very solemn ceremony. The Assembly met on Monday, September the 25th, 1643, in St. Margaret's Church—an edifice almost lost in the shadow of the neighbouring Abbey, but deeply interesting as the place of worship still used on special occasions by the Houses of Parliament. The building then was somewhat different from what it is now, for it did not possess at that time the antique centre window of stained glass; but the graves of Sir Walter Raleigh, and of Caxton, the printer, existed beneath the pavement, and their names were symbolical of the art and the enterprise which had contributed largely to the great revolution betokened by this notable gathering. Besides the Divines, and the rest of the Assembly, the House of Commons, and the Commissioners from Scotland attended the service. White of Dorchester commenced the service by offering prayer to the Almighty. Then Philip Nye read and explained the terms of the Covenant, commending it as a defence against popery and prelacy, and a stimulus to further reformation.[368] Dr. Gouge presented a second prayer.[369] Mr. Henderson, the Scotch Commissioner, described the deliverance of his countrymen from prelatical domination, declared the purity of their intentions in what they had done, and gratefully acknowledged the blessings of heaven upon their work and service. After the Covenant had been read, the Assembly rose, and with that solemnity which marked the Puritan mode of performing such acts, they lifted up their right hands to heaven, worshipping the great name of God; by their gesture reminding us of another oath, less spiritual but not less solemn, sworn by the Swiss patriots, under the shadow of the Seelisberg, on the rich green slope by the shore of the lake of Uri. After this ceremony, the Commons and the Divines adjourned to the chancel, and there wrote their names on the parchment rolls, containing the words of the Covenant.
1643, September.
On the 20th of September, being the Wednesday before the Monday on which the Covenant was sworn, a battle was fought at Newbury; and the particulars of this action must have reached the Assembly before they held up their hands to heaven; perchance some held them up all the more firmly in consequence of what they had just been told respecting the persistent valour of the army. For all along the valley, more than half a mile in length, Essex's men, wearing fern and broom in their hats, had fought from four o'clock in the morning until ten at night. After a struggle, hand to hand, in the darkness, the King's forces stood in order on the further side of the Green, and Essex expected a fresh engagement next day; but the enemy retreated in the night, and consequently the Parliament claimed the victory. One fell in that engagement, whose death, with its never to be forgotten touches of sadness, deeply affected some who faced him in battle, after sitting beside him in council. Lord Falkland, on rising that morning, had put on a clean shirt, saying he would not be found in foul linen amongst the slain; and when his friends attempted to dissuade him from fighting, replied, "I am weary of the times, and foresee much misery to my country, and believe I shall be out of it before night." And so he was.[370]
Treaty with the Scotch.
1643, November.
The Covenant prepared in Scotland having been adopted in England, the two countries entered into a treaty on the 29th of November, 1643. The first of the Articles declared, that the Covenant now to be sworn throughout both kingdoms was "a most noble near tie and conjunction between them against the papist and prelatical faction, and for pursuance of the ends expressed in the said Covenant." The Scotch agreed to levy and send an army of 18,000 foot, 2,000 horse, and 1,000 dragoons, to be ready at some general rendezvous near the borders of England; and the English promised that the charges so incurred should be refunded when peace was settled, with Scotch consent. The money was to be raised out of the forfeited estates of papists, prelatists, malignants, and their adherents; and £100,000 was to be paid at Leith or Edinburgh with all convenient speed, half of the sum being conveyed at once by the bearers of the treaty.[371] English solicitude respecting this compact oozes out in the quaint old diurnals of that day. "The Covenant," say they, "will doubtless give more life to the preparations of their brethren, if they be not already on their march into this kingdom, which we have good grounds to surmise they be; but no letters as yet come to confirm the same." A communication from the north is joyfully quoted, to the effect that the artillery, ammunition, arms, and men were all in readiness; and it is added, "upon the first notice of your agreement in the Covenant and propositions, they will be setting forward without doubt."[372] On the 6th of September we read of a consultation about the Scotch Covenant, and the advance of moneys, and of letters sent to hasten forward their preparations. The northern rulers stipulated that the war should be carried on for the sake of the Covenant; and bleeding England, accepting help on such terms, and agreeing to pay expenses, the journalists waited eagerly for tidings of the advancing troops. Baillie, in his manse at Kilwinnin, writing a news-letter which would make some columns in the Times, informed his reverend dear cousin, Mr. William Spang, about a fortnight after the newspaper had circulated rumours of Scotch preparations, that so soon as the Covenant was signed by any considerable number in England, and a certain amount of money remitted to Scotland, he and his friends would turn to God by fasting and prayer, and promote the levy of 32,000 foot and 4,000 horse. This number far exceeded what had been stipulated for in the treaty; but no doubt the exaggeration was simply owing to the heated zeal of the honest news-writer. In the same quaint and lively pages, which, while they reflect passing events, also indicate what the Scotch thought of their own proceedings and of the condition of the English, we find Baillie saying, "Surely it was a great act of faith in God, and huge courage and unheard-of compassion, that moved our nation to hazard their own peace and venture their lives and all, for to save a people so irrecoverably ruined both in their own and in all the world's eyes." In December, writing from Worcester House, in the Strand—a mansion which had been fitted up by Parliament for the Commissioners with furniture taken out of the King's wardrobe—the same writer alludes to the undecisive conduct of the English war, adding, "they may tig tag on this way this twelvemonth. Yet if God send not in our army quickly, and give it not some notable success, this people are likely to faint; but it is the hope of all the godly, it is the confidence and public prayers of all the good ministers here, that God will honour the Scots to be their saviours." "All things are expected from God and the Scots."[373]
Treaty with the Scotch.
1643, November.
The articles of the treaty, together with these waifs and strays sifted out of early newspapers and old letters, enable us to comprehend how matters stood in relation to the Covenant. The Scotch contingents were to march across the border for ends set forth in that document: and the adoption of it in England was demanded before a single pikeman would cross the Tweed. The feeling of our neighbours, in short, had culminated to this point, that England resembled the man fallen among thieves, and that they themselves were playing the part of the good Samaritan. And so much of truth lay at the bottom of this assumption, that it must be admitted our fathers did most surely need the military assistance of their brethren; and that not without a sufficient consideration—partly religious and partly pecuniary, for the whole of which a careful stipulation was made—could the assistance be secured. Without charging the North with a huckstering policy, or representing the South as over-driven in the bargain; we must regard the taking of the Covenant, and the affording of the required supplies, as so much payment rendered for so much help. Nor does it seem at all less plain, that the army marched under the banner of the Covenant for the establishment of uniformity. The Assembly in Edinburgh, and the Parliament under its control, shewed as strong a zeal for a single form of religion as English Kings and English Bishops had ever done. The contrast between the duplicity of Charles and the honesty of Henderson—between the ritualism of Laud and the simple worship of Baillie—certainly ought to be recognized; but then, also, it must be admitted that all these persons had their hearts fixed on the establishment of one Church, one creed, and one service, without the toleration of a second; in other words, the enjoyment of full liberty for their own consciences, but not the bestowment of a shred for the conscience of any one besides. The Church of the Covenant is not specified by name, it is simply described as meant to be "according to the Word of God and the example of the best reformed churches;" but as we know the persons who drew up the instrument, what but Presbyterianism can be understood as the ecclesiastical system intended by these expressions?
