CHAPTER XVII.

Laud, the principal author of the evils which induced the revolution, remained a prisoner. He had become a helpless old man; and it would have been better for the Puritans had they checked their resentment, and suffered their vanquished enemy to linger out his days as a captive or an exile; but unfortunately they determined otherwise. The Scotch Commissioners had presented Articles against him in the House of Lords on December the 17th, 1640; and on the following day the Commons had resolved to accuse him of high treason.[491] In the following February, articles of accusation had been exhibited by the Commons, after which his case had been kept in abeyance for more than two years and a half. Though the idea of bringing him to trial had never been abandoned, mild views of his punishment had been entertained; for, in a newspaper published in May, 1643, it is stated that "the sending of the Archbishop of Canterbury and of Bishop Wren to New England had been agitated in the House, and that Parliament would not banish them without a trial."[492] In the opening of the year 1644, it was resolved that Laud should take his trial.

Laud's Trial.

The trial lasted from March to July. The accused prelate received three or four days' notice of the time of his appearance, and of the particular articles which were to be alleged against him. From ten until one o'clock the managers of the prosecution stated their case and produced their evidence, when an adjournment followed till four o'clock in the afternoon. Then the prisoner made his defence, and one of the managers replied. The proceedings terminated between the hours of seven and eight, when the fatal boat moored at Westminster,—which had so often glided backwards and forwards on errands of vengeance,—returned with its grey-haired passenger to the archway of the Traitors' Gate.[493]

1644.

The principal managers for the Commons were Serjeant Wylde, Mr. Maynard, and Mr. Nicolas. Prynne acted as solicitor, and arranged the whole proceedings. He had suffered so much at the Archbishop's hands, that, however watchful he might be over himself, he could scarcely suppress feelings which were incompatible with a just discharge of his legal responsibilities. With all his learning and great ability, we must admit that he was not remarkable for self-control; and the utmost stretch of candour cannot prevent our receiving, from his conduct on this occasion, the unpleasant impression that, in preparing materials for the conviction of his old enemy, he was swayed, to some extent at least, by personal resentment.[494]

The accusations brought against Laud may be reduced to three: first, that he had aimed at subverting the rights of Parliament; secondly, that he had attempted to subvert the laws of the land by his conduct in reference to ship-money, by his illegal commitments, and by his support of the Canons of 1640; thirdly, that he had endeavoured to alter and subvert God's true religion established in this realm, to set up instead of it Popish superstition and idolatry, and to reconcile the Church of England to the Church of Rome. In support of this grave indictment relating to religion, much stress was laid on such facts as these: his introducing innovations, using images and crucifixes, consecrating churches and altars by superstitious rites and ceremonies, commanding the Book of Sports to be read, upholding doctrinal errors, persecuting Puritans, corresponding with Roman Catholic priests, and discouraging foreign Protestants.[495]

Laud's Trial.

Laud, in his defence, when speaking of his ecclesiastical career, did not profess that he had sought, as the highest objects of his life, the gathering of souls into Christ's fold, and the promotion of truth and charity; but he plainly said that his main endeavour had been to secure an outward conformity. Nor did he, as most men would have done under the same circumstances, qualify his avowal of ritualistic zeal by expressing large and noble Christian sentiments. On the contrary, he simply declared: "Ever since I came in place I laboured nothing more than that the external worship of God (too much slighted in most parts of this kingdom) might be preserved, and that with as much decency and uniformity as might be; being still of opinion that unity cannot long continue in the Church, where uniformity is shut out at the Church door; and I evidently saw that the public neglect of God's service in the outward face of it, and the nasty lying of many places dedicated to that service, had almost cast a damp upon the true and inward worship of God, which, while we live in the body, needs external helps, and all little enough to keep it in any vigour."[496] Yet we must confess that for Laud to adopt this strain was honest; and certainly, amongst his many faults, hypocrisy is not to be reckoned. Indeed, he made it his boast, and he had ground for so doing, that he did not shift from one opinion to another for worldly ends; and that he had never attempted to slide through the difficulties of the times by trimming his religious opinions.

1644.

In dealing with the evidence against him, the Archbishop maintained that personal resentment influenced the witnesses in the statements which they made; and in that opinion probably he was to a considerable extent correct. Certain of their allegations had, no doubt, a spiteful appearance; but then it is impossible to forget how this merciless man had provoked such conduct towards himself by his own inexcusable demeanour towards others; and that by a law of Providence, righteous in itself, though executed by instruments not free from blame, such delinquents as Laud, after having sown the wind, are sure, sooner or later, to reap the whirlwind. Prynne, of course, tried to make everything tell against his enemy; yet even he could not help allowing that the prisoner at the bar "made as full, as gallant, and pithy a defence, and spake as much for himself as was possible for the wit of man to invent." This special pleader proceeds however to say, the very moment after making this admission, that Laud spoke "with so much art, sophistry, vivacity, oratory, audacity, and confidence, without the least blush, or acknowledgment of guilt in anything, as argued him rather obstinate than innocent, impudent than penitent, and a far better orator and sophister than Protestant or Christian."[497] Prynne attributed the Primate's boldness to the King's pardon which he carried in his pocket.

Laud's Trial.

When the whole evidence had been presented, a question arose whether the facts which had been adduced legally proved him to be guilty of the crime of treason. The Peers were not satisfied that such was the case; and in the present day, there are few, if any, constitutional lawyers who would admit that the proofs alleged brought the Archbishop within the scope of the Statute of Treasons. Owing to legal difficulties, the prosecution, in its original form, was dropped, and a Bill of Attainder was brought in. The Bill, after having been read a third time in the House of Commons, was sent up to the House of Lords. They admitted, as they had done before, that the accused was guilty of endeavouring to subvert the law, to destroy the rights of Parliament, and to overthrow the Protestant religion; but still, they asked, can all this prove him to be traitor to the King?[498] The old points were debated over and over again. But what did that avail? Popular feeling against him had become intense; the London citizens were now more earnest than ever in petitioning for speedy justice against all delinquents; and some individuals went so far as to shut up their shops, declaring they would not open them until righteous vengeance fell upon the head of this arch-enemy of the people of God.[499] Influenced by such clamour, if not convinced by the arguments of the Commons, the Lords present in the House on the 4th of January, 1645, passed the fatal Bill;[500] and afterwards it was in vain that the condemned produced a pardon, under the great seal, in arrest of execution.

1645, January.

The fatal proceedings against Laud are easily accounted for. The causes are found in the growing power of the anti-Episcopal party; the ascendancy of the Presbyterians, who for a long time had felt the deepest horror at Laud's career; the influence of the Scotch, who had a special hatred to the Primate for his designs on their country; and the activity of Prynne, who certainly had sufficient cause for detesting the mutilator of his ears. But the sentence of death executed upon him cannot be justified. Lord Campbell pronounces it "illegal, barbarous, and unprovoked," "as little to be palliated as defended." Hallam speaks of the whole business as "most unjustifiable," and "one of the greatest reproaches of the Long Parliament." Even Godwin admits that the prelate "fell a victim to the Scots, to the Presbyterians, and to the resentment of an individual who had formerly been the subject of his barbarity."[501] We may add that the same legal objections apply to the Bill of Attainder against him which are urged in the case of Strafford; and further, that in one respect the treatment of the prelate was worse than the treatment of the statesman; inasmuch as, whilst some persons may defend the putting of the Earl to death as a political necessity, no one can regard in the same light the execution of the Archbishop.

Laud's Execution.

1645, January.

Many men who have committed great errors have afterwards, in the midst of suffering, behaved in such a manner as somewhat to redeem their evil reputation. To a considerable extent it proved so in this instance. On its being proposed to him by the renowned Hugo Grotius that he should escape—a step which he believed his enemies were not averse to his taking—Laud replied: "They shall not be gratified by me in what they appear to long for; I am almost seventy years old, and shall I now go about to prolong a miserable life by the trouble and shame of flying?" "I am resolved not to think of flight, but continuing where I am, patiently to expect and bear what a good and a wise Providence hath provided for me, of what kind soever it shall be."[502] He delivered on the scaffold a speech which was prefaced by the first verse of the twelfth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews,[503] as if it had been a sermon; though, after the exordium, it forsook a homiletic form. He referred to himself as a martyr, declared that he forgave his enemies, and endeavoured to clear himself from the charge of favouring Popery and disliking Parliaments. Then, after praying, and pulling off his doublet, he said that no man could be more willing to send him out of the world than he himself was to go. Upon being asked by Sir John Clotworthy what special text of scripture he found most comfortable, he replied, "Cupio dissolvi et esse cum Christo." "A good desire," answered the knight, who added, "there must be a foundation for that desire and assurance." Laud had no notion of Puritan "evidences," and simply rejoined, "No man can express it, it is to be found within." "It is founded," the Presbyterian went on to say, "upon a word though." Laud closed the conversation by adding, "That word is the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and that alone."[504] The Archbishop's last prayer is the most beautiful thing connected with his history, and reminds us of Shakespeare's words—

"Nothing in life

Became him like the leaving it."

"Lord, I am coming as fast as I can; I know I must pass through the Shadow of Death before I can come to see Thee, but it is but umbra mortis, a mere shadow of death, a little darkness upon Nature, but Thou, by Thy merits and passion, hast broke through the jaws of death; so, Lord, receive my soul, and have mercy upon me, and bless this kingdom with peace and plenty, and with brotherly love and charity, that there may not be this effusion of Christian blood amongst them, for Jesus Christ's sake, if it be Thy will."[505]

Laud's Character.

So perished William Laud, a man who has been magnified by one party into a martyr, and degraded by another into a monster. He was neither, but a narrow-minded individual, with little or no sensibility, fond of arbitrary power, a thorough bigot, and a ceremonialist to such an extent, that he acted as if salvation depended on adjusting the position of altars, presenting obeisances, regulating clerical attire, and "adding to it some of the frippery of the Romish ecclesiastical wardrobe, which had lain neglected ever since the Reformation."[506] His religious weaknesses were not tempered with the smallest degree of Christian charity. Contemptible trifles he pressed upon the consciences of people with an iron hand. Yet Laud's reputation does not come down to us tainted with the vulgarities of avarice or sensuality. He was liberal and chaste; and, though proud, he was not addicted to luxury or ostentation. Possessed of considerable learning, and remarkable for activity and acuteness of mind; he patronized such studies as accorded with his tastes; and it should not be forgotten that, at Windsor, Reading, and Oxford, there still remain noble and lasting monuments of his beneficence.[507]

As one of England's most conspicuous Churchmen, he may be ranked with Dunstan, Becket, and Wolsey;[508] but he had not the princely bearing, the knowledge of mankind, and the skilful statesmanship of Wolsey—nor did he evince the high-minded spiritual ambition and independence of Becket—nor do we discover in him the mystic tone and artistic taste of Dunstan. But he had the pride, the intolerance, and the superstition of all three. In the middle ages he would have made as to ritualism a good monk, and if severity of discipline be a proof of excellence, by no means a bad abbot.

1645, January.

It was on the very day of Laud's attainder that Parliament established the Presbyterian Directory, and prohibited the Anglican Prayer Book.[509] That book, profoundly reverenced by all Anglo-Catholics, and held in scarcely less honour by some doctrinal Puritans, excited only the opposition of the Presbyterians and the other sects. Tracts of the period irreverently represent the liturgy as being the very lethargy of worship; the litany, as not merely "a stump, or a limb of Dagon, but the head of the Mass Book;" and the surplice, as "a Babylonish garment, spotted with the flesh," and as worse than the "plague-sore clout," which had been sent "to infect Master Pym, and the rest of the House."[510] For this coarse abuse, the whole Presbyterian party must not be held responsible; but such abuse indicates the existence of feelings with which leading Presbyterians had to deal on their own side.

Many persons disliked all prescribed forms, and represented them as muzzling the mouths of the saints, and stopping the course of the Spirit of God. "True prayer," they said, "is first in the heart, then in the mouth, but this sort of prayer is in the mouth before it can come into the heart at all: it is an abortive birth which never had a right conception."[511] Yet the chief oracles both of Parliament and the Assembly, though advocates for extempore devotion, were not disposed to leave ministers altogether to their own impulses in conducting public devotion. They adopted a middle course, and whilst abandoning particular forms of prayer they provided a General Directory of worship.

Parliament issued an order for that purpose to the Assembly, sometime in October, 1643, but the business stood in abeyance until the following May, when the subject came up for discussion in the Jerusalem Chamber. Minor questions arose, such as whether laymen might assist clergymen by reading the Scriptures—a question determined in favour of probationers; and whether the Lord's Supper might be received by communicants sitting in pews—a question negatived by a resolution of adherence to Presbyterian usage. But the grand debate of the Assembly at that time related to the suspension of improper communicants. This matter involved principles of Church discipline, which could not be settled without much controversy, and which long perplexed statesmen and divines.

The Directory.

The preface to the Directory, which is a very important part of the book, adverts to the liturgy used in the Church of England, as an offence both to many of the godly at home, and to many of the reformed abroad. The imposition of it had heightened past grievances, and its unprofitable ceremonies had been a burden to the consciences of not a few. By it people had been kept from the Lord's table, and ministers had been driven into poverty and exile. While esteemed by Prelates as if it set forth the only way in which God could be worshipped, Papists had counted its use a concession to themselves, and a compliance with their Church. Moreover, a liturgy, it is said, encouraged an idle ministry. Therefore, it was now to be set aside, not from affectation of novelty, or to the disparagement of the first reformers, but as a further reformation of the Church of Christ, the easing of tender consciences, and the promotion of uniformity in the worship of God. The Directory contains no forms of prayer, but only suggestions as to topics of public supplication.

1645, May.

The Directory.

The Directory, upon being dispatched to Scotland,[512] obtained there the sanction of the General Assembly; and on its return, after the book had been endorsed by the English Commons, it was presented to the House of Lords, who gave it their sanction. Presbyterian statesmen are sometimes charged with a rash abolition of old ecclesiastical laws, without the previous or immediate institution of others to occupy their room. It is alleged that these men short-sightedly pulled down the ancient buildings and left them in ruins, and that they were for some time not prepared to raise a new structure on the ancient site. This is an incorrect representation. Elizabeth's Act of Uniformity, it is very true, fell into desuetude from the opening of the Long Parliament; also many Puritans in the Establishment laid aside the Liturgy, and even reviled it. Notwithstanding, no specific law appears against it, until the Directory had been sanctioned by Parliament. The same ordinance which forbids the Liturgy enforces the Directory. In the first place that authority rehearses and repeals the statutes of uniformity, and at the same time declares that the Book of Common Prayer should not remain in any place of worship within the kingdom of England or the dominion of Wales. The same ordinance then goes on to declare that the Directory should be observed in all public religious exercises throughout the realm, and that fair register books of vellum for births, marriages, and burials should be kept by the minister and other officers of the Church. It is remarkable that no penalty whatever is mentioned for a breach of this ordinance. So far as the terms of it are concerned, it looks as if it might be broken with impunity; and it was so broken. In country parishes where Royalism was predominant, and such parishes were very numerous, parsons and churchwardens set at nought the enactment of the two Houses, and would not acknowledge as law that which had not received the Royal sanction. The Prayer Book was dear to them from associations with the past in their own lives and those of their fathers; and they were resolved still to read its litany and collects. Finding that simple advice and exhortation produced no effect in many quarters, Parliament adopted more stringent measures. It would appear that, as early as the month of May, 1645, penalties for contempt of the new enactment were under consideration,[513] but an explicit threatening for disobedience was not uttered until the month of August. Then came an ordinance[514] which—after providing for the supply of printed books of the Directory, and commanding that it should be read the Sunday after it was received—proceeded to declare that any person using the Book of Common Prayer in church or chapel should, for the first offence, pay the sum of five pounds, for the second offence the sum of ten pounds, and for the third offence suffer one year's imprisonment. Every minister was to pay forty shillings each time he offended. Those who preached or wrote against the Directory fell under additional liabilities to pay not less than five, and not more than fifty pounds. Thus a new Act of Uniformity succeeded the old one. The High Commission Court had been abolished, but its spirit had migrated into another body. Happily it is no easy thing to change a people's religion by Act of Parliament. Wherever the exercise of reason, and the study of Scripture are neglected, there remain sentiments, perhaps prejudices, which are too deeply sown to be raked out by any legal instrument, however sharp and close-set its teeth may be. Human conscience, whether rude and ill-informed, or disciplined and wise, always hates all tools of state husbandry employed for such ends. Accordingly, a good many people in England, when its rulers would force them into a new form of worship, deliberately and resolutely rebelled, some having to endure a considerable amount of suffering for conscience' sake.[515]

1645, August.

The Directory.

The Scotch soon began to lament the inefficacy of the new enactment. They complained that the Prayer Book was still used in some parts of England, where Parliament had undisputed authority; and, of course, in a kingdom which was cut up into two hostile camps, where Royalism remained in the ascendancy, the Liturgy would continue to be honoured, and the Directory would be disused. Errors, heresies, and schism were also deplored as still prevalent, by the brethren from the north, who watched with pious zeal all that was going forward on this side the Tweed, and were greatly distressed at the tardy progress of ecclesiastical reform, and at the little enthusiasm which was enkindled by the Covenant. In Ireland, the Directory met with an adverse fate. The bishops and clergy of Dublin in particular remained loyal to the Prayer Book. They pleaded their ordination vows, the oath of supremacy, the Act of Uniformity, the communion of the two Churches of England and Ireland in the bond of Common Prayer, the legality of its use, the freedom of the Church, and the attachment to the Liturgy cherished by the people. The Bishop of Killaloe, and several other dignitaries, signed a protest, and whatever opinions may be formed of their arguments, posterity will do honour to their conscientiousness. This was in 1647. Some persons continued, in spite of Parliamentary orders, to use the Prayer Book. The last instance of its being publicly read in Dublin occurred when the aged and venerable Archbishop Bulkeley delivered to his clergy a valedictory discourse in St. Patrick's Cathedral.[516]

1645 August

In connection with the Directory, notice should be taken of certain forms of devotion which were published for the use of seamen. A book of that period exists, without date, entitled "A Supply of Prayer for the Ships, that want Ministers to pray with them." The preface states that there were thousands of ships without any ministers, and that the crews, therefore, either neglected religion altogether or used the Book of Common Prayer. What is glanced at as a matter of necessity might perhaps in some cases be matter of preference. Alderman Garroway, in his speech at Guildhall, it will be remembered, spoke of sailors as being fond of the old liturgy; and such sailors must have remained in the fleet even after the Presbyterian Earl of Warwick had become Lord High Admiral. Though the navy, as far as rulers were concerned, might be called Presbyterian, numbers of the men would feel no attachments in that direction. At all events, to avoid inconvenience, it was thought fit to frame prayers for the navy, "agreeing with the Directory established by Parliament." By whom the work was done we do not know, but clearly the spirit of it is Presbyterian. "Heal our rents and divisions," and "preserve us from breach of our solemn Covenant," are expressions found amongst its petitions. Eschewing the Apocrypha, it prescribes psalms and chapters from the Old and New Testament. Forms of devotion are given, rather as specimens and guides than anything else. "The company being assembled, they may thus begin with prayer," are the cautious words employed by the sturdy opponents of ritualism.[517]