CHAPTER XXIII.
Presbyterians and Independents.
Oliver Cromwell, in a letter from Bristol, after its surrender in 1645, makes this remark:—"Presbyterians and Independents all have here the same spirit of faith and prayer. They agree here, and have no names of difference. Pity it is it should be otherwise anywhere." A pamphlet entitled "The Reconciler," published in 1646, affords another example of the spirit which was thus manifested by the illustrious general, and abounds in sensible remarks and salutary reproof applicable to both parties. In other places, also, besides Bristol, persons bearing these different religious names lived in unity and co-operated in the promotion of the spiritual welfare of their fellow-citizens, and in other publications besides the "Reconciler," sentiments of candour and charity were expressed.[627] But, for the most part, the contention between Presbyterians and Independents was absurdly fierce, and numerous tracts appeared on both sides filled with unchristian and disgraceful invectives.
1646.
Presbyterians and Independents.
The city of Norwich supplies a remarkable instance of this kind of strife. Puritanism had strongly established itself there before the civil wars, and had borne earnest witness against the innovations of the Anglo-Catholics. When Episcopacy had been dethroned, numbers of the clergy and citizens shewed themselves zealous in supporting the Covenant and the Directory,—backed, as they were, by an order of Parliament bearing the name of the Speaker.[628] They endeavoured to set up in all the churches which crowded the narrow streets of that hive of manufacturing industry on the banks of the Wensum, the new model of worship, and to fashion the religion of all the inhabitants after the newly authorized type. But Independency had also grown up, and was beginning to flourish within the walls; the Church planted in 1642 presented signs of vigorous vitality, and probably other persons, not in religious communion with it, favoured its interests from political motives. The Episcopal party remained strong, and succeeded in resisting, to some extent, the reforming policy of their energetic Puritan neighbours;[629] but the latter, instead of uniting all their strength to maintain a common cause against those who were opponents to them in common, engaged in a vehement paper war one against another, which threw the whole city into a state of feverish excitement. There are extant two curious publications, the one entitled "Vox Populi," an organ of the Independents, and the other, bearing the name of "Vox Norwici," issued by the Presbyterians. In the Independent "Vox Populi," we find the authors maintaining that every man ought to be left to the liberty of his own conscience; that the Solemn League and Covenant was the same engine of tyranny in the hands of the presbyter that the massbook had been in the hands of the priest, or the Book of Common Prayer in the hands of the prelate; that immoral ministers were allowed to remain in their incumbencies without any attempt to remove them; that nothing was heard in parish pulpits but the subject of church discipline and ecclesiastical uniformity; that the Presbyterian clergy domineered over the Corporation; and that they were actuated mainly by self-interest, inasmuch as they had been at one time as ready to submit to surplices, tippets, liturgies, and canons, as they were now zealous in casting such things away. The object and animus of this publication cannot be mistaken; and the character of the "Vox Norwici" is equally intelligible.[630] It leaves what the Independents had said in reference to the Covenant to be censured by authority, and to be confuted by the pens and tongues of learned men. It vindicates the character of the Presbyterian ministers, and declares that if in their preaching they ever meddled with the topic of discipline and uniformity, it was "but a touch and away." It asserts that when they attended the court of the City Corporation, it was as petitioners, "with their hats in their hands," and that they were, notwithstanding the imputations cast upon them, disinterested men, as proved by their conduct, and the amount of their preferments. It affirms that the covenants of congregational churches—which had incurred the disapproval of Presbyterians—were vague and useless, and allowed people to draw their necks out of Christ's yoke. The tract proceeds to maintain that it was owing to the influence of the Presbyterian clergy that the magistrates of the city had doubled the poor-rates, so that the condition of the lower class had become considerably improved; but at the same time it admits that in congregational churches the poor were still better off, owing to their small number—poor members not being so easily admitted to such communion as were sisters in "silk-gowns." And then, as a last sting for their adversaries, the Presbyterians add this curious observation: "Besides, you can get so many good women to you, that their husbands cannot bear the charge of our poor, because their wives prove so chargeable to them."
1646.
Presbyterians and Independents.
It has been pointed out in these pages already how the military success of Cromwell, and the unpopularity of the Scotch, together with changes in the House of Commons, helped the political Independents to curb Presbyterian churchmanship and intolerance. But in those outside circumstances, if we may so express it, which materially affected the interests lying within the proper sphere of religion, a considerable change occurred during the latter part of the year 1646. A lull of peace in the midst of the civil wars, through the complete defeat of the King's army, and the capture of his strongholds, had deprived Cromwell and his soldiers of any further opportunity to increase their laurels. The Scotch, having the King in their camp, and being engaged in negotiations with Parliament for the payment of arrears, occupied an improved position, and further changes in the Lower House, altered again somewhat the relative strength of the two great parties. The policy of the Presbyterians on political questions, was moderation. They were averse to republicanism, and wished to retain the old constitution of King, Lords, and Commons. Some of the new members with strong revolutionary sympathies, who had entered the House in 1645, came by a natural influence to be more moderate when called themselves to bear the responsibilities of legislation, and when brought into close contact with persons against whom they were previously prejudiced. These now felt disposed to side somewhat with the Presbyterians.[631] Moreover, new members had been returned by constituencies loyal to the King, and they thought they should best aid the royal cause by voting with the Presbyterians. Consequently, the Independent party lost ground a little in the arena of their recent victories,[632] and the alteration speedily manifested itself in the turn given to ecclesiastical proceedings. The Presbyterians availed themselves of their partially recovered supremacy to attack once more the hateful sects, and, by the iron foot of penal law, to crush out the life of error and evil. On the 26th of May, 1646, the Corporation of London, whose courage revived after the debates upon "the keys," presented a remonstrance to the Lords and Commons, in which they expressed their devotion to the Covenant, gave Parliament credit for not desiring to let loose "the golden reins of discipline and government," and complained of private and separate congregations daily erected in divers parts of the City, and commonly frequented; and of Anabaptism, and Brownism, and all manner of schisms, heresies, and blasphemies vented by such as, touching the point of Church government, professed themselves to be Independents. So that they go on to say: "We cannot but be astonished at the swarms of sectaries, which discover themselves everywhere, who, if by their endeavours they should get into places of profit and trust in martial and civil affairs, it might tend much to the disturbance of the public peace both of the Church and Commonwealth."[633] The Presbyterians made a motion that the House would take the matter into consideration, which upon a division they were able to carry.[634] In the winter of 1646, the Clergy of London, whose influence was paramount with the citizens, made the pulpits ring with invectives against parliamentary delay in the work of lifting the Church above the State; and when December came, the Lord Mayor and Corporation clamorously beset the House with their grievances. Contempt, they said, was put on the Covenant. Heresy and schism were still growing. Soldiers usurped the ministry and appeared in the pulpit. The petitioners entreated that the Covenant might be imposed on the whole nation, under penalties such as Parliament might think fit, that nobody should be allowed to preach who was not an ordained covenanter, and that separate congregations, which were all "nurseries of damnable heretics," might be suppressed.[635] Upon this appeal a parliamentary declaration appeared in condemnation of a lay ministry, of everything derogatory to presbyterian government, and of those who should disturb any preachers in holy orders. Shortly afterwards, the London clergy, assembling at Sion College, published a treatise, entitled, "A Testimony to the Truth of Jesus Christ, and to our Solemn League and Covenant, as also against the errors, heresies, and blasphemies of these times, and the toleration of them, to which is added a Catalogue of the said Errors." The ministers of the counties of Gloucester, Lancaster, Devon, and Somerset declared their concurrence with the London brethren.[636]
1646.
Other circumstances contributed to augment the confusion of the times. In the newspapers and pamphlets of the latter part of the year 1646 there are several traces of terrific apprehensions entertained by religious people, such as greatly increased the excitement of the period. The harvest was late. In October, lamentations appear of corn in the north not gathered in, and of vetches still standing in the fields. A famine threatened the population; and such a calamity appeared the more probable from the continuance in England of the Scotch army, which, of course, consumed a large quantity of provision. Wailings over heavy rains and floods in the months of November and December were of frequent occurrence. "Where are our dry days," it was asked, "the divers-coloured bow of heaven? If the weather continue, the nation must abandon their walls of stone, and have recourse to walls of wood. Heaven weeps for us, yet we cannot weep for ourselves, because we have hearts of stone; like the offspring of Deucalion's people, we must partake of Deucalion's punishment."
Supernatural Omens.
1646.
It will help to illustrate the superstitious feelings which mingled with such fears if we notice the frequent references to supernatural portents about this time. In a curious quarto tract, entitled "Strange Signs from Heaven," published in the spring of the same year, we read the following passage:—"At Brandon, in the county of Norfolk, the inhabitants were forced to come out of their houses to behold so strange a spectacle of a spire-steeple ascending up from the earth, and a pike or lance descending downward from heaven. The Lord in mercy bless and preserve His Church, and settle peace and truth among all degrees, and more especially among our churchmen! Also at Brandon, in the county aforesaid, was seen at the same time, a navy or fleet of ships in the air, swiftly passing under sail, with flags and streamers hanged out, as if they were ready to give an encounter. In Marshland, in the county of Norfolk aforesaid, within three miles of King's Lynn, a captain and a lieutenant, with divers other persons of credit, did hear in the time of thunder a sound, as of a whole regiment of drums beating a call with perfect notes and stops, much admired at of all that heard it. And the like military sound was heard in Suffolk upon the same day, and in other parts of the Eastern Association. In all these places there was very great thunder, with rain and hailstones of extraordinary bigness, and round, and some hollow within like rings. The Lord grant that all the people of this kingdom may take heed to every warning trumpet of His, that we may speedily awaken out of our sins, and truly turn to the Lord, fight His battles against our spiritual enemies, and get those inward riches of which we cannot be plundered, and so seek an inward kingdom of righteousness and peace, that we may be more capable in His good time of a settled peace and state in the outward kingdom, and all through our Lord Jesus Christ!"
While Heaven was interpreted as frowning upon the earth, people were accused of indifference to religious duties. A religious newspaper, called the "Scottish Dove," described as "sent out and returning the 28th of October and the 4th of November"—after quaintly remarking that the Dove had rested on the public fast—goes on to inform the reader how the country neglected, slighted, and contemned the ordinance of God, and of the Parliament for days of humiliation—not only in the country towns, where ignorant people ordinarily ploughed, threshed, hedged, and ditched, but also in the great city of London. Though the country was suffering, how thin were the congregations on a fast day! How full the cookshops, ordinaries, and taverns! "Do men indeed believe there is a God?" asks the indignant editor. Such lamentations remind us of similar ones expressed by St. Chrysostom, when comparing the scanty attendance at church with the multitudes assembled in places of amusement.
The King at Holdenby.
1647.
Amidst all these fears and complaints, negotiations were continued between the Presbyterians in Parliament, and the Scotch authorities relative to the payment and the disbanding of their troops and the surrender of the King into English hands. When arrangements for the purpose had been effected between the two parties, his Majesty, at the end of January, 1647, delivered himself up to the Parliamentary Commissioners at Newcastle, whence he was conducted to Holdenby House, in the county of Northampton—a stately Elizabethan mansion, which had been built by Sir Christopher Hatton—a retreat, however, certainly not selected in consideration of the fallen monarch's feelings, since it was within a short ride from Naseby, the scene of his final and most inglorious defeat. Notwithstanding this circumstance, he graciously expressed himself as glad to come a little nearer to his Parliament; and no doubt, with all sincerity, he also declared his perfect willingness to bid farewell to his northern hosts. His journey was retarded by unfavourable weather, yet thousands of spectators greeted his approach to the old mansion; whilst bells rang and cannons fired "with a gallant echo."[637] The English Presbyterians were greatly elated on obtaining the charge of the royal person, a prize which, they hoped, would bring to them other advantages in its train.[638] Charles, after reaching Holdenby House, requested to be allowed the attendance of his episcopal chaplains. The request was refused. He was informed that no one who did not take the Covenant could be permitted to remain in his household. It is very well known how his Majesty amused himself whilst at Holdenby—sometimes walking in the pleasant neighbourhood; sometimes riding over to a bowling-green a few miles distant. Other matters, too, not often noticed by historians, but characteristic of the royal prisoner, occupied his attention. As the opening spring covered with bright green the Northamptonshire fields, and as the pear trees in the orchards of Holdenby exhibited their snowy types of the resurrection, the royal and episcopalian churchman naturally desired to commemorate the holy festival of Easter, so endeared of old to the hearts of Christians.
The King at Holdenby.
"I desire," said Charles, in a paper he wrote at this time, "to be resolved of this question: Why the new reformers discharge the keeping of Easter? The reason for this query is, I conceive, that the celebration of this feast was instituted by the same authority which changed the Jewish Sabbath into the Lord's Day, or Sunday; for it will not be found in Scripture when Saturday is discharged to be kept, or turned into Sunday, whereas it must be the Church's authority that changed the one and instituted the other. Therefore, my opinion is, that those who will not keep this feast may as well return to the observation of Saturday, and refuse the weekly Sunday. When anybody can shew me that herein I am in error, I shall not be ashamed to confess and amend it. Till then, you know my mind.—C. Rex."
To this, Sir James Harrington—who had been appointed by Parliament to attend upon him at Holdenby—replied, that the changing of the Sabbath and the instituting of Easter were "not by one and the same equal authority and ecclesiastical decree, upon which the reason of his Majesty's query seems to be built." "The Easter festival is a church appointment; but the observance of the Sabbath is according to the fourth commandment, and in the New Testament there is evidence of the change of the day."[639]
1647.
With the King in their keeping, and with a majority still on their side in the House of Commons, the Presbyterians were full of confidence, and their religious affairs seemed to promise a favourable issue. But the army became to them an increasing difficulty. To disband it appeared most desirable; but how to accomplish that object was the question. The soldiers did not choose to be disbanded. They said they were not Turkish janissaries, nor Swiss mercenaries—not mere adventurers of fortune, paid to throw their lances in a cause they did not care for—but Englishmen, who had been struggling for their rights, fighting in defence of hearth, home, and a free church; and, before they laid down their arms, they would know that their country had obtained what they and their brave comrades had shed their blood to win. They were entitled to be paid before they were dismissed, and paid they would be; but, what was more precious to them far than pay, they would secure for themselves and their fellow-countrymen liberty of conscience. To use Clarendon's words: "Hitherto there was so little security provided in that point, that there was a greater persecution now against religious and godly men than ever had been in the King's government, when the bishops were their judges."[640] This is exaggeration; yet it was thus that men talked around their camp-fires on frosty nights during that memorable winter. The army petitioned Parliament in the spring of 1647. Parliament objected to army petitions. The petitioners vindicated their rights in this respect; and some troopers boldly sent a letter to the honourable House, declaring that they would not disband until their requests were granted, and the liberties of the subject were placed beyond peril. A debate followed this appeal, and speeches were prolonged to a late hour. Denzil Holles, the Presbyterian leader, full of that passion and prejudice which often blinded his strong intellect and pushed on his resolute will, then hastily took a scrap of paper, and wrote across it, as it lay upon his knee, a resolution declaring the petition to be seditious, and that to support it was treason. Holles' resolution fell like a spark upon an open barrel of gunpowder.
This was in the month of April. In March, the House had resolved that every officer in garrison, and under the command of Fairfax, should take the Covenant, and conform to the Church by ordinance established. The vote aimed a blow at the Independents, and those who sympathized with them—Cromwell, Blake, Ludlow, Algernon Sidney, Ireton, Skippon, and Hutchinson.
Earl of Essex.
1647.
The Presbyterians were now walking in the dark on the edge of a pitfall. Their great general, the Earl of Essex, was dead.[641] The only son of Robert, Queen Elizabeth's favourite, he had enjoyed much of his father's popularity. Trained to arms in the Netherlands, he became an accomplished soldier of the old school; and, having served with distinction in the wars of the Palatinate, he had acquired the reputation of a Protestant champion before he was called upon to draw his sword within the shores of his native land. His military fame and his religious character pointed him out as a Parliamentary commander at the outbreak of the civil wars. A moderate Episcopalian in the first instance, yet wishing to see bishops excluded from the peerage, he glided into Presbyterianism, and at last would have been glad to bring about such a settlement of affairs as would give ascendancy to that system without the destruction of monarchical rule. In all respects moderate—fearing a decisive victory, such as would crush the King, scarcely less than he feared such a defeat of the Parliamentary army as would restore him to his former power—the history of the military career of the Earl of Essex in England was more cautious than brilliant, and from first to last abounded in Fabian delays. Nominally retaining supreme command of the forces till the year 1645, the influence of this nobleman had declined with the siege of Gloucester, in 1643.
The surrender of his army in the west, in the autumn of 1644, brought a cloud over his military career, though it left untarnished his personal honour. The old officers being displaced by the self-denying ordinance, Essex had to resign his baton. Without military command, he notwithstanding continued to be a man of great influence; which personal vanity, as well as higher considerations, prompted him to employ. Sympathizing with Presbyterians, and jealous of Independents, he incurred Cromwell's displeasure; and Cromwell, after the passing of the self-denying ordinance, became disliked by him. Had Essex lived, it was thought—though without sufficient reason—that he might have allayed party feeling and have prevented the terrible catastrophe which was not far distant. His death, however, struck at the hopes of compromise cherished by his Presbyterian friends, whilst, by that event, Cromwell and his party, as Clarendon reports, were wonderfully exalted, Essex being the only one "whose credit and interest they feared without any esteem of his person."[642]
The King and the Independents.
It should also be considered how unwise the Presbyterians had been in paying off and dismissing the Scotch army, which, so long as it continued on English ground, might be reckoned as an ally and a defender of the new Church. At least, that army remaining here would have served to hold the English one in check, and to render its commanders more prudent, if it did not make its men less bold. But the march of the Presbyterian regiments over the border left Cromwell and his brother officers free from all apprehensions of military resistance. The Independents thus became masters of the situation.
1647.
A very bold stroke they in their turn struck at Presbyterian plans, when, in the month of June, they sent Cornet Joyce to fetch his Majesty from Holdenby House that they might take care of him themselves;[643] and they almost reconciled him to his new captivity by relaxing the restraints which he had endured, and by allowing him to have his own chaplains. Sheldon, Morley, Sanderson, and Hammond, now "performed their function at the ordinary hours in their accustomed formalities; all persons, who had a mind to it, being suffered to be present, to his Majesty's infinite satisfaction."[644] The restored surplice and prayer book were a great comfort to the unhappy prince. The concession appears to have resulted from policy; for as the Presbyterians had been in treaty with him for the furtherance of their ends, some of the Independent officers now thought of effecting their own reconciliation on terms of their own. Into the story of the conferences between Sir John Berkely and the King on the one hand, and between Sir John Berkely and certain chieftains of the army on the other, it is not our business to enter. We would only say that the sincere purpose of Cromwell, in reference to ecclesiastical matters, seems to have been to secure toleration, within certain limits, for the religious opinions and observances both of the people and of the Monarch, and to prevent the exercise of either Episcopalian or Presbyterian tyranny. We are inclined to believe that, on such a basis—with due securities for political liberty, and in connection with official arrangements, in which, of course, so distinguished a man could not but expect to have some conspicuous place—Cromwell felt not unwilling to aid in the restoration of Charles. But the insincerity of the latter and the opposition of the republicans prevented the scheme from proceeding far.
Cromwell also aimed at reconciling the factious members of the two parties. He invited certain Presbyterians and Independents to dine with him at Westminster, and he held conferences with the grandees of the House and with the grandees of the army. All this, however, proved to be of no effect. Ludlow tells a story of the hero of Naseby, at the end of a conference, flinging a cushion at his head and then running down stairs, and of his overtaking the general with another cushion, which "made him hasten down faster than he desired."[645] Ludlow, with all his prejudice against Cromwell, was not the man to invent an untruth, even in so small a matter; and one may note this flash of fun after severe debate, as indicating a genuine Teutonic temperament in the two rough soldiers, akin to what we read of in old Norse mythologies, of grotesque tricks played by Woden-like chiefs, and quite in keeping with what we know of that Teutonic hero, Martin Luther, who could laugh and joke, as well as preach and pray.
Royalist Demonstrations.
Although Cromwell could not reconcile ecclesiastical adversaries, or come to terms with the captive King, there remained no hope for Presbyterian uniformity. Active men in the undisbanded army, true to their purpose, still insisted upon securing the right of toleration, together with certain other points of a political nature; and, seeing that there were Presbyterians at work in the House of Commons with a view of thwarting their designs, they boldly impeached eleven of them.
Immense excitement ensued. Trained-bands, apprentices, mariners, and soldiers, petitioned that the King might be brought to London, with the hope of securing a reconciliation. Riots followed. The House of Commons was besieged; and Sir Arthur Haselrig, the political Independent, persuaded the Speaker, at the head of a large number of members, to leave Westminster, and to fly for protection to the camp. The Speaker, having "caused a thousand pounds to be thrown into his coach, went down to the army, which lay then at Windsor, Maidenhead, Colnbrook, and the adjacent places."[646]
1648.
Notwithstanding these extraordinary attempts on the part of the opposition, the Presbyterians did not lose their ascendancy in the House of Commons.[647] Their cause received vigorous and influential support from the London ministers. The Corporation also manifested similar zeal by taking care to place in all municipal offices Presbyterians of a true blue tint. The party further strengthened itself in some quarters through its Royalism, and in consequence of the repugnance which was felt by numbers of people at the growing Republicanism of the Independents. Republicanism, besides its inherent defects, had the disadvantage of appearing to the practical minds of Englishmen as at the best an untried theory, which, whatever advantages it might seem to promise, would be found miserably wanting when tested by being put into practice.
Outbursts of Royalist violence occurred in the spring of 1648. The city of Norwich had a Royalist and Episcopalian mayor, whom the Parliament deposed from office, appointing another alderman in his place. The citizens who took part with the disgraced chief magistrate abused his successor, and threatened to hang the pursuivant and sheriff upon the Castle Hill. It being reported that the gentleman who had been thus set aside would be carried off by his enemies in the night, his friends seized the keys of the many-gated city, and assembled in the market-place, giving out as their watchword, "For God and King Charles." Large crowds afterwards openly avowed that they were for his Majesty, and that they would pluck the Roundheads out of the Corporation, and put in honest men who would serve God and go to church. The city found itself filled with rioters who were breaking windows, entering houses, plundering them of food, wine, and beer, and seizing the fire-arms kept in the magazine. All was confusion, and the tradesmen shut up their shops. But Colonel Fleetwood's troopers, then in the county, were quickly despatched to quell the riot. The rebels ran away after being attacked by the soldiers, and retired to the Committee House, where the county ammunition was kept. By accident or from design ninety-eight barrels of gunpowder there exploded, which not only blew up several persons "into the air, but by the violence of the shock, which was perceived in the greatest part of the county, many windows were shattered in pieces, and much mischief done by the stones and timber at a great distance."[648] A riot of a similar kind happened at Bury St. Edmunds.[649]
Laws against Heresy.
Out of these Royalist demonstrations Parliament made capital at the moment of putting them down. On the 28th of April, 1648—two days after the Norwich Corporation had determined on a thanksgiving for the suppression of the tumult[650]—the House of Commons carried a resolution that the future government of England should be by King, Lords, and Commons, and that a treaty should be opened with Charles for peace and settlement. What kind of settlement it was to be, ecclesiastically considered, the Presbyterian Commons foreshadowed by a law made a few days afterwards.
1648.
Newport Treaty.
As early as April, 1646, a bill had been in preparation for preventing heresies and blasphemies. In the September of that year it had been read a first and second time. In the following November the House had voted that the penalty for such offences, in certain cases, should be death. Subsequent political confusions had arrested for a while the progress of this measure, but now, on the 2nd of May, 1648, under the renewed ascendancy of Presbyterianism, an ordinance came forth of the following character:[651]—The denial of God by preaching, teaching, printing or writing, of His perfections, or of the Trinity, or of the two natures of Christ, or of His atonement, or of the canonical books of Scripture, or of the resurrection of the dead and a final judgment, was to be deemed a capital offence; and the offender was to "suffer the pains of death, as in case of felony, without benefit of clergy." In case of recantation, he was to remain in prison till he found two sureties who would answer for his never again broaching the said errors. The ordinance specified a second class of heresies:—That all men shall be saved—that man by nature hath free will to turn to God—that God may be worshipped by pictures and images—that there is a purgatory—that the soul can die or sleep—that the workings of the Spirit are a rule of life, although they be contrary to the written Word—that man is bound to believe no more than his reason can comprehend—that the moral law is no rule of Christian life—that a believer need not repent or pray—that the two sacraments are not of Divine authority—that infant baptism is unlawful or void—that the observance of the Lord's day, as enjoined in this realm, is not according to the Word of God—that it is not lawful to join in public or family prayer, or to teach children to pray—that the churches of England are not true churches—that Presbyterian government is anti-Christian—that the magistracy established in England is unlawful, or that the use of arms is not allowable. To publish or maintain any of these doctrines, entailed imprisonment until the offender found sureties for his not offending any more. In conclusion, it was provided that no attainder by virtue of the ordinance should extend to a forfeiture of estates or a corruption of blood. We have given this piece of legislation almost entire. It throws light on the nature of the errors which at that time were prevalent. The ordinance is pointed at Atheism, Infidelity, and Socinianism, also at Pelagianism, Universalism, and Popery. It levels its bolts at Quakerism, Antinomianism, and Anabaptism. It fixes its eyes on fifth monarchy men, and will allow no anti-Presbyterian to escape its vengeance. But, in seeking to crush what were mischievous errors, these legislators really brought within danger of prison and death a number of persons who, though belonging to none of the proscribed sects, yet might refuse the exact formulary of belief which the words of the act enjoined. A person might devoutly believe in the divinity of Christ, and yet he might object to a definition of the Trinity; he might accept the Scriptures as Divine, and yet he might doubt the canonicity of certain books. Notwithstanding such a man's substantial faith, the ordinance threatened him with a felon's doom. Some of the opinions specified were merely intellectual, and, socially considered, perfectly innocuous. But, supposing a man entertained the very worst sentiments coming within the view of this minutely specific law, such an enactment only served in the instance of a courageous heresiarch to make him all the more obstinate in his misbelief. And then the folly of requiring in such cases sureties for good behaviour! No doubt the statesmen who thus meddled in the region of religious opinion, proceeded upon other principles than those of mere political expediency, and would have met all objections based on the inefficacy of their policy for good, its social injustice, and its violation of the rights of conscience, with this argument—that the highest duty of the magistrate is simply to maintain God's truth irrespective of all consequences; that as a defender of the Church he is not to bear the sword in vain; and that he is to tread in the steps of Israel's heroes, walking through the camp of God, Phineas-like, javelin in hand. But however disposed one may be to do justice to the motives of these men, as honestly desiring to advance the glory of God, it is impossible not to regard proceedings like theirs in the instance before us as inspired with a monstrous fanaticism.[652]
1648.
Newport Treaty.
In the month of September, 1648, not long after the ordinance had been passed for more effectually settling Presbyterian government, boats crossed the water between the Hampshire coast and the Isle of Wight, conveying Noblemen, Gentlemen, Divines and Lawyers to take part in a new conference with the fallen sovereign.[653] He was allowed to have, as assistants in the discussion, certain learned Episcopalians, including Juxon, Hammond, and Ussher, who were to stand behind his chair; but they were not to speak except when the King might wish for their advice, which could be given by them only in another room. The Parliament sent down on its own behalf five noblemen, with four Presbyterian Divines—Dr. Seaman, Mr. Caryl, Mr. Marshall, and Mr. Vines. The principal topics debated were of an ecclesiastical nature—as on other points the King, being now reduced to the last extremity, yielded his consent to the demands of Parliament. He took his stand on the merits of Episcopacy, and the demerits of the Covenant. His arguments were in the main the same as those which he had adduced at Newcastle, and some Episcopalians have thought that the royal theologian, in this renewed controversy, derived little benefit from his Episcopal advisers.[654]
Circumstances compelled him now to make large practical concessions. He would abolish the hierarchy, except the simple order of bishops. He would for the space of three years allow no other ecclesiastical government than the Presbyterian, and afterwards would not permit any Episcopal rule to be exercised except such as Parliament might allow; indeed, he went so far as to say if he could be convinced that Episcopacy was not agreeable to the Word of God he would take it entirely away. Afterwards he promised that for the next three years he would appoint no new Bishops, that Bishops should receive no persons into holy orders without the consent of the Presbyters, that another form than the Common Prayer should be used in the royal chapel, and that mass should never be said at Court.[655]
1648.
Charles at last resolved to make no further concessions. To the three demands made by Parliament through the Commissioners, first, for the abolition of Bishops, secondly, for the sale of their lands, and thirdly, for the use of the Directory by himself, he gave a decided denial. If, said he, the Houses thought it not fit to recede from the strictness of their demands in these respects, then he would with all the more comfort cast himself upon his Saviour's goodness to support him and defend him from all afflictions.[656]
Newport Treaty.
A Royalist reaction now sprung up amongst the Presbyterians, and the former alienation between the army and the Parliament burst into open warfare. The army, tired of treaties which made not the slightest provision for religious liberty, tired also of one-sided Presbyterian zeal, which sacrificed the liberties of the country to the adored ideal of a covenanted uniformity, and further tired of long and fruitless negotiations, addressed a stern remonstrance to Parliament—as long too as it was stern—demanding justice upon the misguided monarch.[657] Then came a declaration of the advance of the army towards the City of London. Thus threatened, the Presbyterians were put on their defence. To submit to the army would be to give up their idol. More hope remained for Presbyterianism now in pushing a treaty with the King than in yielding to the pressure of the Independents. The courage and calmness of the advocates of this policy at such a moment command our admiration. Amidst all their fondness for the Covenant, and all their aversion to Episcopacy, there appeared a disinterested spirit of loyalty to the King's person, and of great anxiety for the preservation of the King's life.
1648.
On Monday, December the 4th, after tidings had been received of the removal of Charles across the water from Carisbrook to Hurst Castle, by officers of the army—the Commons were in deep debate. They declared that the removal had been accomplished without their consent or knowledge, and then they grappled with the all-absorbing question, whether the royal answers to the propositions of both Houses could be considered satisfactory. Whilst Sir Harry Vane, Mr. Corbet, and others of the Independent party contended that those answers were not satisfactory, the Presbyterians put forth all their remaining strength to save his Majesty. Sir Benjamin Rudyard, Sir Harbottle Grimstone, and Sir Symonds D'Ewes came to the rescue; but Mr. Prynne stood forward as the chief advocate of the false and fallen prince. In a speech, continued long after candles had been lighted, he went over the whole ground of the long dispute. He could not, as he said, be suspected of any undue partiality for his Majesty, seeing that all the royal favour he had ever received was shewn in cutting off his ears; but still he argued with immense elaboration and great ability that there was enough in the results of the recent negotiations to warrant the conclusion of a treaty. The political concessions which had been made he maintained were amply sufficient. Such as were ecclesiastical, he proceeded to observe, though they did not meet the Parliament's demands, yet went so far as to warrant a hope of a satisfactory issue. For hours he continued his speech, and at the end of it the majority—so the orator himself reports—declared both by their cheerful countenances and by their express words that they were abundantly satisfied. After the Speaker had taken some refreshments there came a division on the question, that the answers of the King "are a ground for the House to proceed upon, for the settlement of the peace of the kingdom." Ayes, 140, Noes, 104. It was Tuesday morning; the clock had now struck nine, and the debate had lasted from the morning of the previous day. Although the doors had never been locked, there were present in the House at one time as many as 340 members: many of them, however, because of age and infirmity, could not remain throughout the night.[658]
Whatever opinion may be formed of the Presbyterian policy, everybody must acknowledge that such a debate with the army at the door brought out some noble characteristics, and that Prynne shewed himself a brave man, with such armed odds against him, thus to stand up for peace with Charles, at the moment when his death-knell had begun to be rung in the camp. Zeal for Presbyterianism, hatred of Independency, and jealousy of the army were powerful motives with this singular person; yet with these feelings were blended sentiments of the purest loyalty.
But eloquence proved no match for steel. The Scotch army had set up the Covenant; the English army now pulled it down. As at the beginning of that great mistake, so at the end, force had more influence than reason, violence than argument. Pride's purge carried all before it. Prynne had not recovered from his exhaustion before the army had cleared the House of all opponents. Above one hundred members were excluded before the end of December; others withdrew. Thus by one and the same blow the fate of monarchy and of Presbyterianism was decided. It is vain to talk about constitutionalism at such a crisis. Revolution had marched through England gaunt and grim. Its black shadow had darkened the land, and now it fell over Parliament itself. The army had fought for liberty of conscience, certainly not the least of the prizes in dispute, and that being now in jeopardy, a strong hand was put forth very unceremoniously to beat down the obstacle which hindered its attainment.
Execution of the King.
1649, January.
As it was with Lord Strafford and with Archbishop Laud, so it was with King Charles I. The noblest scene in his whole life was the last. He appeared to infinitely greater advantage at the bar, and on the scaffold, than he had ever done before. His religious demeanour, when he came to die, was all which his admirers could wish. Without refusing the prayers of Presbyterians and Independents, he availed himself of the counsels and devotions of Bishop Juxon; and he said to that prelate on his offering some expressions of condolence—"Leave off this, my Lord, we have no time for it. Let us think of our great work, and prepare to meet the great God to whom ere long I am to give an account of myself, and I hope I shall do it with peace, and that you will assist me therein. We will not talk of these rogues in whose hands I am. They thirst after my blood, and they will have it, and God's will be done. I thank God I heartily forgive them, and will talk of them no more." In a message to his son, he declared his faith in the apostolical institution of Episcopacy, and, as a last request, earnestly urged him to read the Bible, which in his own affliction, he remarked, "had been his best instructor and delight." He said to his attendant, on the morning of his execution, "Herbert, this is my second marriage day, I would be as trim to-day as may be, for before night I hope to be espoused to my blessed Jesus." "I fear not death, death is not terrible to me. I bless my God I am prepared."[659] On his way to the block he hastened his attendants, remarking that he now went before them to strive for a heavenly crown with less solicitude than he had often encouraged his soldiers to fight for an earthly diadem.
His words, as he stood with Juxon at his side,[660] before the axe of the masked executioner, were broken and confused; but he declared himself a Christian, and a member of the Church; that he had a good cause and a gracious God, and was going from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown.
Execution of the King.
The impression which the tragedy produced on two eminent persons has been fully recorded. Parr, in his Life of Ussher,[661] relates how the Irish primate came upon the leads of Lady Peterborough's house, "just over against Charing Cross," as the King made his final speech, and how, when his Majesty "had pulled off his cloak and doublet, and stood stripped in his waistcoat," and the men in vizards put up his hair, the good Bishop, unable to bear the dismal sight, grew pale and faint, and would have swooned away had not his servants removed him. He could vent his excitement only in prayers and tears; and ever afterwards he observed the 30th of January as a private fast. Matthew Henry states that his eminently-godly father witnessed the execution, and used to tell his children, at Broad Oak, of the dismal groan amongst the thousands of the people when the axe fell—a groan the like of which he had never heard before, and hoped he should never hear again; and he would also mention the circumstance of one troop of horse marching from Charing Cross to King Street, and another from King Street to Charing Cross, to disperse the crowd as soon as the awful deed was done.[662]
The execution of Charles, however it may be deplored as mischievous, criticised as impolitic, or condemned as unjust, was perhaps—looking at the natural resentments and fears of men under the circumstances—only such a sequel to the civil wars as became probable after long experience of the King's invincible duplicity. Like Strafford, he had become too dangerous to live; and now it was thought that, like Strafford, he must die. Moreover, visions of republican bliss dazzled the imagination of a few who believed that they would be nearer the attainment of their hopes when the head of Charles should have rolled in dust.[663] One result, it appears, they did not contemplate. They made a martyr of their victim, and thus so deeply stained their cause in the estimation of the largest portion of posterity, that all their patriotism and religious consistency in other respects have not sufficed to wipe out the blot.
1649, January.
The Presbyterians ought not to be reproached for the fate of Charles. Their statesmen did what they could to prevent it; and their Divines courageously protested against his being put to death, as a national crime. Nor should the Independents, as a religious sect, be made to bear the responsibility. It is true that some of them were members of the High Court of Justice—Bradshaw, the president, and Corbet, to mention no others, were in communion with Congregational Churches[664]—but there were also Independent ministers who openly declared against the sentence; and the silence of others upon the subject is no more to be construed into approval than is the silence of Episcopalians.[665] What extravagant things might be said by such a man as the notorious Hugh Peters, or even by John Goodwin—a different sort of person it is true—ought not to be charged upon the Independents in general. Yet some amongst the best of them, it must be acknowledged, approved of the deed. Lucy Hutchinson relates the conflicts of her husband, shewing how a sense of duty decided him in the part he took in the proceeding. Dr. Owen preached before Parliament the day after the King was beheaded; and though he does not allude to the event of the preceding morning, he preached in a strain not at all consistent with any reprobation of it, as an act of injustice. Although, in our opinion, it was a blunder, it has been vindicated even in the present day by writers of undoubted piety and honour: no wonder that good men, amidst a struggle which we can imperfectly imagine, were impelled to do what good men in the serener atmosphere of two centuries later deliberately justify.
The Funeral.
1649, February.
The King was buried at Windsor on the 9th of February. Thither his remains were conveyed by Mr. Herbert and others; some of his faithful nobility, accompanied by Bishop Juxon, arriving at the Castle next day. They shewed the Governor-General, Whitchcot,[666] an authority from Parliament for their attendance at the funeral, and requested that the body might be interred according to the rites of the Church of England. The Governor refused, on the ground that the Common Prayer had been put down. To their solicitations and arguments he replied it was improbable that the Parliament would permit the use of what it had so solemnly abolished, and thus virtually contradict and destroy its own act. To which they rejoined: "There was a difference betwixt destroying their own act and dispensing with it, or suspending the exercise thereof; that no power so bindeth up its own hands as to disable itself in some cases to recede from the rigour of their own acts, if they should see just occasion." The plea proved unavailing. Whitchcot would not yield. As the funeral procession moved from the great hall in the Castle, and entered the open air, "the sky was serene and clear; but presently it began to snow, and the snow fell so fast that by that time the corpse came to the west end of the Royal Chapel, the black velvet pall was all white." The soldiers of the garrison carried the body to its resting-place under the choir. Over the coffin hung a black velvet hearse-cloth, "the four labels whereof the four Lords did support. The Bishop of London stood weeping by, to tender his service, which might not be accepted. Then was it deposited in silence and sorrow in the vacant place in the vault (the hearse-cloth being cast in after it) about three of the clock in the afternoon."[667]