CHAPTER VI.
THE REGICIDES.
The treatment of the men who had been foremost in what the Royalists called the Great Rebellion, affords a further and a critical instance of the temper of Parliament. At first, and for some little time afterwards, the majority supported a large measure of oblivion. Not more than seven persons were excepted from the Act of Indemnity. But the number speedily increased to twenty-nine.[159] Afterwards it was proposed that all who sat on the trial of Charles I., and had not surrendered according to a late Proclamation, were to be excluded from the Act of Oblivion,—a point carried without any division. The Lords made the Bill more stringent. They determined to exclude all who had signed the death-warrant, or were sitting in the court when sentence was pronounced, whether they had submitted since the Restoration or not; to these the Lords added the names of Hacker, Vane, Lambert, Haselrig, and Axtell. Yet they struck out a clause, reserving Lenthall and others for future punishment. The Commons had been slow with the Act of Indemnity, notwithstanding the salvation of many of their old friends was involved in it. The Lords were slower still, and both had to be spurred on by Royal messages. When the Bill, in its increased severity, came down from the Lords, the Commons resisted the sweeping amendment which excluded all the members of the High Court of Justice from the general amnesty. They pleaded that such an exclusion would violate the promise from Breda, and the terms of the recent Proclamation. Repeated conferences took place between the Houses, and it is visible that the spirit of resistance to the vindictiveness of the Lords gradually gave way, and that the violent Royalists were gaining ground amongst them. The Commons entered into a compromise. Most of the judges were excepted; others were reserved for lesser penalties. About twenty persons, besides those who had pronounced sentence in the High Court of Justice, were incapacitated for any civil or military office.[160]
The regicides being excluded from the Act of Oblivion, some of them were tried at the Old Bailey, in the month of October, 1660. Amongst those who then stood at the bar were four persons who have appeared, more or less conspicuously, in connection with the Ecclesiastical History of the Civil Wars and the Commonwealth.
1660.
Major-General Harrison, the famous Republican, who, in the Little Parliament had opposed the tithe system, who had plunged deeply into the study of prophecy, had been for some time expecting the reign of the saints, and had been involved in the revolutionary schemes of the Fifth Monarchy men, was arraigned for having sat upon the trial of his "late Sovereign Lord King Charles I., of ever blessed memory," and for having signed and sealed the warrant for his execution.[161] He was found guilty, and condemned to die. With his political fanaticism there blended other feelings; and the propriety of his demeanour in prison was such, that the woman, who cleaned his cell, and kindled his fire, declared she could not conceive how he deserved to be there, for he was a man "full of God—there was nothing but God in his mouth—and his discourse and frame of heart would melt the hardest of their hearts."[162] He died expressing transports of religious joy.
THE REGICIDES.
Hugh Peters, the military Divine, who had beat up for recruits at country market crosses, and carried messages of victory from the Army to the Commons, was now condemned for stirring up the soldiery to demand the Monarch's execution, and for giving publicity to the Proclamation for the High Court of Justice. As he was going to execution, he replied to a person—who abused him as a regicide—"Friend, you do not well to trample upon a dying man, you are greatly mistaken. I had nothing to do with the death of the King."
Peters, although coarse, vulgar, and violent, has been painted in darker colours than he deserves. It is certain that he approved of the execution of the King; but whether his complicity in the deed was legally proved is another question. That he was one of the masked headsman on the 30th of January, 1649, is an idle tale; and of the charges against his moral character no adequate proof has ever been adduced. Without any respect for his memory I wish to do him justice. He has been commonly represented by Royalists as an unprincipled and cruel villain, steeped in vice, and laden with crime. The facts of his history do not support that indictment; they rather show him to have been a sincere, misguided, and unhappy enthusiast.[163]
Isaac Pennington—who presented to the Long Parliament in 1640 the famous "Root and Branch" Petition of the London citizens—was at this time also charged with compassing the Monarch's death. The Lord Chief Baron alluded to him in merciful terms, and although found guilty, his life was spared through the intercession of influential friends. He died a prisoner in the Tower, December the 17th, 1661. His son Isaac had embraced Quakerism; and a daughter of his wife, by a former husband, became the wife of William Penn.
1660.
By the side of Isaac Pennington stood another prisoner with whom we are already acquainted—Henry Marten.[164] Of his Revolutionary opinions, and of his active part in the Whitehall tragedy, there could be no question—perhaps he had as much to do with it as any one; yet after he had been convicted, he threw himself upon the mercy of Parliament. In the petition which he presented he observed, with the careless wit which no misfortune could subdue, that he had surrendered himself upon the Restoration in consequence of the King's "Declaration of Breda," and that "since he had never obeyed any Royal proclamation before this, he hoped that he should not be hanged for taking the King's word now?"[165] The Commons do not appear to have attempted anything in his favour; but his cause received warm advocacy when it came before the Lords. With a dash of invincible humour, the Republican pleaded, that since the honourable House of Commons, which he before so idolized, had given him up to death, the honourable House of Peers, which he had so much opposed, especially in their power of judicature, was now left as a sanctuary to which he fled for life. He had submitted himself to His Majesty's gracious Proclamation, he took hold of it, and hoped to receive pardon through it. He now submitted himself to His Majesty and to the House for mercy.[166] Marten obtained what was denied to men more worthy; but although his life was spared, he spent twenty years in prison, and expired in Chepstow Castle, at the age of 78.[167]
The growth of vindictive loyalty was rapid; it rose to an alarming height, and assumed a frantic mien, when, after re-assembling in November, the Commons resolved, that the carcases of Oliver Cromwell, Henry Ireton, John Bradshaw, and Thomas Pride, whether buried in Westminster Abbey or elsewhere, should with all expedition be taken up, drawn upon a hurdle to Tyburn, there hanged up in their coffins for a time, and afterwards buried under the gallows.[168]
NEW BISHOPS.
Leaving this horrid subject, we notice that at the close of the year a consecration of new Bishops took place. Of the nine prelates remaining alive at the time, Juxon, who had been Bishop of London, was translated to Canterbury; Frewen, who had been nominated by Charles I. to the see of Lichfield and Coventry, was promoted to the Archbishopric of York; and Duppa, who had held the see of Salisbury, was transferred to the diocese of Winchester. To the Bishopric of London, vacated by the translation of Juxon, Sheldon succeeded—a reward considered due for unceasing vigilance over Episcopalian interests during the Commonwealth. Morley, who had attended Charles at the Hague, was appointed Bishop of Worcester; and Henchman, who had aided His Majesty's escape after the battle near that city, became Bishop of Salisbury.[169]
Seven new prelates together were consecrated at Westminster on Sunday, the 2nd of December:—Cosin, the patristic scholar, who had been chaplain in the household of Queen Henrietta,—as Bishop of Durham; and Walton, the editor of the Polyglott,—as Bishop of Chester. Gauden also was one of the number. Though he had remained in Cromwell's Broad Church, it is said that upon all occasions he had taken worthy pains in the pulpit and by the press to rescue His Majesty and the Church of England, from all mistaken and heterodox opinions of several and different factions, as well as from the sacrilegious hands of false brethren whose scandalous conversation was consummate, in devouring Churchlands, and in impudently making sacrilege lawful.
1660.
He received for these services the Bishopric of Exeter;[170] and at the same time there was consecrated with him—as Bishop of Carlisle—Richard Sterne, who had suffered much from the Presbyterians, and had attended on the scaffold his friend, Archbishop Laud. Laney designated to Peterborough, Lloyd to Llandaff, and Lucy to St. David's, complete the seven.
Sancroft, then domestic chaplain to Bishop Cosin, preached the sermon, in which he defended diocesan Episcopacy from the words of St. Paul to Titus: "For this cause left I thee in Crete, that thou shouldest set in order the things that are wanting, and ordain elders in every city, as I had appointed thee." He who appointed him, said the preacher, was "not a suffragan of St. Peter," "not a disciple of Gamaliel," "not a delegate of the civil magistrate," but "an apostle of Jesus Christ." And he who was appointed was "a single person; not a consistory of Presbyters, or a bench of elders," and his office was to supply defects—to correct what might be amiss—and to exercise the power of ordination; "our most reverend Titus" being "a genuine son and successor of the apostles." The theological reader will infer at once what were the arguments under each head, and he may judge of the style and spirit of the discourse from the following passage—"And blessed be this day (let God regard it from above, and a more than common light shine upon it!) in which we see the Phœnix arising from her funeral pile, and taking wing again; our Holy Mother, the Church, standing up from the dust and ruins in which she sate so long, taking beauty again for ashes, and the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness, remounting the Episcopal throne, bearing the keys of the kingdom of heaven with her, and armed (we hope) with the rod of discipline; her hands spread abroad, to bless and to ordain, to confirm the weak, and to reconcile the penitent; her breasts flowing with the sincere milk of the word, and girt with a golden girdle under the paps, tying up all by a meet limitation and restriction to primitive patterns, and prescripts apostolical. A sight so venerable and august, that methinks, it should at once strike love and fear into every beholder, and an awful veneration. I may confidently say it. It was never well with us, since we strayed from the due reverence we owed to Heaven and her; and it is strange we should no sooner observe it, but run a maddening after other lovers that ruined us, till God hedged in our way with thorns, that we could no longer find them, and then we said, I will go and return to my former husband, for then was it better with me than now."[171]
NEW BISHOPS.
Eight Bishops of the Irish Church were still living. Bramhall was translated to the primacy as Archbishop of Armagh. Nominations to vacant Sees followed; including that of Jeremy Taylor to the diocese of Down and Conner, upon Henry Lesley being translated to Meath; but his consecration was delayed until the 27th of January, 1661, when ten new Bishops, and two old ones promoted to the Archiepiscopate, were solemnly set apart in Saint Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin. The consecration of so many at one time has been pronounced, "an event probably without a parallel in the Church."[172]
1660.
We have crossed, almost unconsciously, from England to Ireland. Between lies the Isle of Man; and this reminds us of what was going on there, a short time before the remarkable consecration at Dublin. In the autumn of 1660, Commissioners were engaged in reducing to order ecclesiastical affairs. They summoned the clergy before them to exhibit their letters of orders and of presentation; they enforced the use of the Prayer Book, and of catechizing, the keeping also of feasts and fast days, including the 30th of January, the day of King Charles' martyrdom, and the 15th of October, the day of Earl James' martyrdom. The observance of Lent was afterwards enjoined, with the customary penalties and with provision for dispensations. Parish discipline was established according to canon law; and, without any ejectment or any opposition, the portion of the Church existing in that island submitted at once to Episcopalian rule.[173]
PERSECUTION.
Returning to England, we remark that since certain old laws were deemed by Churchmen as still in force, notwithstanding the legislature of the last twenty years, they constituted an arsenal of weapons, with which magistrates and others could, if they were disposed, grievously disturb their Puritan neighbours. The Canon law prohibited dissent from the Church under pain of excommunication. The same penalty was threatened against all who affirmed that ministers not subscribing to the form of worship in the Communion Book, might "truly take unto them the name of another Church not established by law," or that religious assemblies other than such as by the law of the land were allowed, might rightly challenge the name of true Churches, or that it was lawful for any sort of ministers or lay persons, to join together to make ecclesiastical rules or constitutions without the King's authority. No minister, without license of the Bishop, could presume to hold meetings for sermons. As all conventicles were hurtful to the state of the Church, no ministers or other persons were to assemble in any private house or elsewhere for ecclesiastical purposes, under pain of excommunication.[174] As to Statute law, the 1 Eliz. c. 2, required all persons to resort to Church every Sunday and every day ordained a holiday. The penalty of disobedience was a shilling fine, with Church censure for every offence. The 23 Eliz. c. 1, made the fine twenty pounds a month, and the offender who persevered for twelve months had to be bound to good behaviour with two sureties in two hundred pounds, until he conformed. To keep a schoolmaster who did not attend Church, incurred a monthly fine of ten pounds. The 29 Eliz. c. 6, empowered the Queen, by process out of the Exchequer, to seize the goods and two parts of the real property of offenders, upon default of paying their fines. The 35 Eliz. c. 1, made the frequenting of conventicles punishable by imprisonment. Those who after conviction would not submit were to abjure the realm. Refusal to abjure was felony, without benefit of clergy.[175]
1660.
These laws, however, do not suggest a full idea of all the inconvenience and suffering to which Nonconformists, before the Civil War, had been exposed. That we may understand fully the circumstances in which they were placed, we must add the activity of spiritual courts, the jurisdiction of the High Commission, and the indefinite powers of the Crown. Nor do these laws, statute and canon, exhibit all the forces of oppression which continued to exist after the Restoration, and before the passing of the Act of Uniformity—forces which could be brought into play at any moment, and in any situation. Spiritual courts, it is true, had not yet been re-established; the High Commission no longer existed. The power of the Crown had received a check; but in addition to laws prohibitory of religious gatherings outside the Establishment, there stood the law of Royal Supremacy, which could not be taken by Papists, and was objected to by some Protestant Dissenters. The statute, which had sent More and Fisher to the block, brought sorrow upon a large number of unknown persons, who, on a different principle from that adopted by those sufferers, objected strongly to Royal Supremacy over causes ecclesiastical as well as civil. Their resistance and their trouble, together with the perplexity of magistrates respecting them, are illustrated in the following extract of a letter written from Bristol, in the autumn of 1660:—"Be pleased to take notice that no Quaker, or rarely any Anabaptist, will take these oaths; so that the said oaths are refused by many hundreds of their judgment, being persons of very dangerous principles, and great enemies in this city to His Majesty's royal person, government, and restoration—and some of them [are] petitioners to bring his martyred Majesty, of blessed memory, to his trial,—and will undoubtedly fly out again and kick up the heel against his sovereign authority, should it be in their power, therefore [they] are not worthy His Majesty's protection, refusing to swear loyalty to him. Besides, their said refusal, if suspended or connived at, will cause a general discontent and repining in, by those His Majesty's loyal subjects who have already taken, or are to take the said oaths; for 'tis already the language of many of them, and these not a few, 'Why should any oaths be imposed on or required of us? and the Quakers, Anabaptists, and others, His Majesty's enemies, be gratified with a suspension thereof.' And 'tis the answer of others, 'If the Quakers, Anabaptists, and others of dangerous practices and principles do, or are enforced to, take the said oaths, then will we. In the interim, we want the same liberty which is to them afforded.'" The writer next asks instructions to guide him in his perplexity. "Sir," he continues, "these, I had almost said, monsters of men with us are, yea more numerous than in all the West of England; and here they all centre and have their meetings, at all seasons till 9 of the clock at night, and later;—sometimes about 1,000 or 1,200 at a time,—to the great affrightening of this city as to what will be consequent thereof if not restrained, or should a suspension of the said oaths be to them given."[176]
PERSECUTION.
1660.
Many persons had to suffer severely. In Wales the fire was first kindled, and burnt most fiercely. Before the King landed at Dover the Episcopalians in the Principality busied themselves in persecuting Quakers. Several Nonconformists were imprisoned at Caermarthen, and the gaol at Montgomery was so filled with them that the gaoler had to pack them into garrets. Pitiful stories, with some exaggerations perhaps, are told of sufferers in the May and June of 1660, who were dragged out of their beds to prison, or like stray cattle driven into parish pounds, or led in chains to the Quarter Sessions.[177] If violence with so wide a sweep did not rage on our side the border, the confessors for conscience' sake in England were nevertheless numerous enough. In that transitional state of things all sorts of irregular proceedings took place. Even Philip Henry could not preach in quiet, but was presented in the month of September, at the Flint assizes, for not reading the Common Prayer. John Howe also fell into trouble for what he had said in the pulpit; and it is not generally remembered that long before the Uniformity, the Conventicle, and the Five Mile Acts were passed, John Bunyan was cast into Bedford gaol.[178] In England, as well as in Wales, many Quakers and Anabaptists suffered a loathsome imprisonment. If, in London, Nonconformity was strong, in the provinces it was rapidly becoming otherwise. Bishops were busy; Episcopalian Rectors were being restored, and Loyal Corporations were getting more and more noisy in their demonstrations of zeal for Church and Crown. Grey-headed squires, and nobles in Cavalier plumes and doublets, with their courtly dames in rustling silks, and with their children in bright-coloured sashes, and attended by servants clothed in gay liveries, sat with joy before the crackling yule log that merry Christmas; and when the boar's head and the roast beef had been despatched, they related stories of their virtuous and devout King,[179] and told their sons and daughters of the gay doings and merry games of their own young days. The mistletoe hanging in the hall corresponded with the holly suspended in the Church; and the service, which members of these merry parties had heard that Christmas morning for the first time, as they sat in the old family pew, sustained worthy association with the pleasant festivities of the afternoon and evening. Puritanism had been to them a religion of restraint, and now the return of Bishops and Prayer Books brought freedom and joy. Of course there were sentiments of a far higher order cherished at that season, but the existence of much of the humbler feeling now described may be taken for granted.
REACTION AGAINST PURITANISM.
Other ceremonies besides those immediately connected with Christmas time appeared that winter. Newspaper letters from Exeter, dated the 29th of December, 1660, announced the joyful welcome of Dr. Gauden, the new Bishop of the diocese, who had been met by most of the gentry, to the number of one hundred and twenty, and escorted by the High Sheriff, with nearly five times as many horse; the Mayor and Aldermen in scarlet and fur, waiting on His Lordship, amidst the ringing of bells. A week later, Londoners saw, in the public prints, a glowing account of a public Episcopalian christening at Dover—a most significant service in a town where Anabaptists were numerous. So great a concourse, it is reported, had seldom been seen, the Mayor being obliged to make way that the children might reach the font, which had not been used for nearly twenty years, and had now, by the care and prudence of the Churchwardens, been set up for this solemnity.
1660.
The reaction against the Puritanism of the Commonwealth, visible in so many ways, received a fresh impulse from the insurrection of Venner and his associates. This fanatical wine-cooper had been before laying plots: in the month of April, 1657, he and his confederates, after conferring at a Meeting House in Swan Alley, had assembled on Mile End Green, when Cromwell sent a troop of horse, and seized him, with twenty other ringleaders. The cause of Fifth Monarchism, during the season of confusion consequent upon the resignation of the Protector Richard, reappeared, and made itself heard through its irrepressibly loquacious advocates, Rogers and Feake. The revival of their tenets, in connection with a renewal of pure Republicanism under Sir Henry Vane and his party, was of short duration; and there is nothing noticeable, in connection with this form of religious sentiment, until Venner's second outbreak.
Instead of narrating that incident in words of my own, I shall simply use a letter, written respecting it in the midst of the excitement. The circumstances mentioned at the close, although below the dignity of history, are too amusing to be omitted.
VENNER'S INSURRECTION.
1661.
The writer is Sir John Finch; he directs his letter to Lord Conway:—"My dearest and best Lord,—As for news, my last acquainted you with the Duchess of York's coming to Court. I forgot to tell you that the child was christened Charles, and created Duke of Cambridge, and that His Majesty in person and the Duke of Albemarle were godfathers, and my Lady of Ormond personated the Queen for godmother. Our great news here is, that since His Majesty's departure to Portsmouth there have been two great alarms. Upon Sunday night about fifty Fifth Monarchy men, at ten o'clock, came to Mr. Johnson, a bookseller at the north gate of St. Paul's, and there demanded the keys of the Church, which he either not having, or refusing, they broke open the door, and, setting their sentries, examined the passengers who they were for, and one with a lantern replying that he was for King Charles, they answered that they were for King Jesus, and shot him through the head, where he lay as a spectacle all the next day. This gave the alarm to the mainguard at the Exchange, who sent four files of musketeers to reduce them. But the Fifth Monarchy men made them run, which so terrified the City, that the Lord Mayor in person came with his troop to reduce them. Before he arrived they drew off, and at Aldersgate forced the constable to open the gate, and so marched through Whitecross Street, where they killed another constable, and so went into the woods near Highgate, where being almost famished, on Wednesday morning, about five of the clock, fell again into the City, and, with a mad courage, fell upon the guard and beat them, which put the City into such confusion, that the King's Life and all the City regiments advanced against them. These forty men beat the Life Guard and a whole regiment for half an hour's time. They refused all quarter; but at length, Venner, their captain, a wine-cooper, after he had received three shots, was taken, and nine more, and twenty slain. Six got into a house, and refusing quarter, and with their blunderbusses defending themselves, were slain. The Duke and the Duke of Albemarle, with 700 horse, fell into the City; but all was over before they came. This, my Lord, is strange, that all that are alive, being maimed, not one person will confess anything concerning their accomplices, crying that they will not betray the servants of the Lord Jesus to the kings of the earth. Ludlow Major is committed close to the Tower for saying he would kill the King. These things have produced their effects: that no man shall have any arms that are not registered; that no man shall live in the City that takes not the Oath of Allegiance; that no person of any sect shall, out of his own house, exercise religious duties, nor admit any into his house under penalty of arrest, which troubles the Quakers and Anabaptists, who profess they knew not of this last business. And, besides all this, His Majesty is resolved to raise a new Army, and the general is not known; but I believe it will be the Duke of Albemarle, rather than the Duke of York or Prince Rupert, in regard he hath the office by patent, and in regard of his eminent services. The Duke took it very unkind of my Lord Chamberlain that upon information of Prince Rupert's attendants, his Lordship, in the Duke's absence, searched his cellar for gunpowder, it being under the King's seat at the Cockpit, and the Duke with his own hands so cudgelled the informer that he hath almost maimed him; and Prince Rupert assured the Duke that he so resented it, that he was not content to put away his servant, but offered to fight any person that set the design on foot. However, the business is not made up, though my Lord Chamberlain told the Duke he had done over hastily. The Princess Henrietta is sick of the measles on shipboard; but out of danger of wind. Dr. Frasier hath let her blood; I hope with better success than the rest of the royal blood have had."[180]
VENNER'S INSURRECTION.
It may be mentioned, that this insurrection had been hatched at the same place as the former one; and the conspirators are said to have marched first to Rogers' old quarters at St. Thomas the Apostle, to join nine of the party, and thence to Whitecross Street. It came as the expiring flash of a fanatical creed, which had blended itself with Puritanism, greatly to the detriment of the latter; and, dying out rather slowly, it left behind the quiet element of Millenarianism, which, at the present day, we find largely infused into the tenets of a considerable class of Christians.
Venner's explosion occurred on the 6th of January; but it is remarkable, that four days before that date, an order was issued from Council, forbidding the meetings of Anabaptists, Quakers, and other sectaries, in large numbers, and at unusual times, and restricting their assembling to their own parishes. Rumours of plots are alleged as reasons for the decision thus adopted upon the 2nd of January; but that decision plainly shows, that ere the insane enthusiasts of Coleman Street had fired a shot, whatever liberty had been conceded at Worcester House was now to suffer great abridgment. Venner's insurrection could not be the cause of curtailing the liberty of the subject at that moment, though it proved a plausible argument for the Proclamation which followed. The Proclamation appeared four days after the riot; yet the terms of the document agree so closely with those employed in the records of Council, as to indicate that, with the exception of a reference to the disturbance of the peace by bloodshed and murder, and some mention of Fifth Monarchy men, little or no alteration could have been made in the phraseology. All meetings, except those held in parochial churches and chapels, or in private houses by the inhabitants, were declared seditious, and were peremptorily forbidden.[181]
1661.
Against Venner's insurrection the Independents protested; disowning "the principles of a Fifth Monarchy, or the personal reign of King Jesus on earth, as dishonourable to him and prejudicial to His Church," and abhorring "the propagating this or any other opinion by force or blood."[182] The Baptists declared their obedience to Government, and expressed a hope that they might enjoy what had been granted by His Majesty's Declaration, and be protected, like other subjects, from injury and violence.[183] The Quakers also expressed their loyalty; praying that their meetings might not be broken up, and that their imprisoned members might be set at liberty. But these addresses neither blunted the edge of Royal displeasure, nor removed the public suspicion that many Nonconformists sympathized with the Fifth Monarchists. Peaceable subjects, therefore, suffered insult and interruption. Horns were blown at the doors of their houses, and stones were thrown at them whilst they were at prayer; also, magistrates enforced the Oath of Allegiance, which many Nonconformists, on different grounds, declined to take.[184]
BAXTER.
1661.
Amongst other methods of annoyance was that of opening suspected letters—a practice of which numerous illustrations will presently appear. "I wrote a letter at this time," says Richard Baxter, "to my mother-in-law, containing nothing but our usual matter. Even encouragements to her in her age and weakness, fetched from the nearness of her rest, together with the report of the news, and some sharp and vehement words against the rebels. By the means of Sir John Packington, or his soldiers, the post was searched, and my letter intercepted, opened, and revised, and by Sir John sent up to London to the Bishop and the Lord Chancellor, so that it was a wonder, that having read it, they were not ashamed to send it up; but joyful would they have been, could they but have found a word in it which could possibly have been distorted to an evil sense, that malice might have had its prey. I went to the Lord Chancellor and complained of this usage, and that I had not the common liberty of a subject, to converse by letters with my own family. He disowned it, and blamed men's rashness, but excused it from the distempers of the times; and he and the Bishops confessed they had seen the letter, and there was nothing in it but what was good and pious. And two days after came the Lord Windsor, Lord-Lieutenant of the County, and Governor of Jamaica, with Sir Charles Littleton, the King's cupbearer, to bring me my letter again to my lodgings; and the Lord Windsor told me, the Lord Chancellor appointed him to do it. After some expression of my sense of the abuse, I thanked him for his great civility and favour. But I saw how far that sort of men were to be trusted."[185]