CHAPTER IV.
For the credit of humanity, it should be repeated that occasional lulls occurred in the storm of persecution during this infamous reign. Intolerant laws sank into desuetude, and merciful, or rather righteous magistrates, neglected, or tempered their execution. Considerable ingenuity sometimes appears in their methods of evasion. A Justice of the Peace would ask certain informers whether they could swear that, in a certain case, there was “a pretended, colourable, religious exercise, in other manner than according to the liturgy and practice of the Church of England,” and would caution them to consider that, if they swore in the affirmative, they must know exactly what the liturgy and the Church really were. He would also demand whether the informers were present all the time during which the service lasted, for if they were not, how could they be sure the Common Prayer was not used? An instance is not wanting in which such an ingenious Justice dismissed both parties, and sent the case to counsel for opinion, who decided that he had done quite right.[59]
1677–80.
During the year 1677, and for two or three years afterwards, Nonconformists suffered less troubles than they had done before, owing in part to the death of Archbishop Sheldon, in part to the prevalent fear of Popery, and in part to the change of Ministry in 1679, and the ascendancy of Shaftesbury in His Majesty’s Councils.[60]
About the year 1680 the Duke of Buckingham, like Shaftesbury, exceedingly ambitious of popularity, and apt to bid high for the prize by professing great liberality of opinion, made overtures to the Nonconformists to become their advocate. It being signified to John Howe, that this nobleman wished to see him, the Divine took an opportunity of calling at the sumptuous residence of the dissolute peer, and, after some conversation, His Grace hinted that “the Nonconformists were too numerous and powerful to be any longer neglected; that they deserved regard, and that, if they had a friend near the throne, who possessed influence with the Court generally, to give them advice in critical emergencies, and to convey their requests to the Royal ear, they would find it much to their advantage.” There could be no mistake as to the meaning of all this; yet, at the moment of offering himself as the political adviser of the Nonconformists, Buckingham was pursuing that course of flagrant vice which has brought everlasting infamy upon his name. Howe replied, with great simplicity, “that the Nonconformists, being an avowedly religious people, it highly concerned them, should they fix on any one for the purpose mentioned, to choose some one who would not be ashamed of them, and of whom they might have no reason to be ashamed; and that, to find a person in whom there was a concurrence of those two qualifications, was exceedingly difficult.”[61] This answer ended the business.
RENEWED PERSECUTIONS.
But whatever might be the temporary relief then tacitly granted, or the patronage and protection then virtually offered to Dissenters, a manifest change occurred in their circumstances after the Oxford dissolution of 1681. The causes of this change require attention.
Sir William Temple’s Utopian scheme had broken down. However plausible on paper, it had proved a failure in practice. Shaftesbury and Russell could not work with Temple and Halifax; and in the spring of 1681 the three former had disappeared from the Board, so also had Salisbury, Essex, and Sunderland,—the management of affairs being chiefly in the hands of Halifax, of Lord Radnor, of Hyde, created Lord Rochester, and of the Secretaries of State, Jenkins and Conway.
1681.
Halifax is described as a man of great wit, which he often employed upon the subject of religion. “He confessed he could not swallow down everything that Divines imposed on the world; he was a Christian in submission, he believed as much as he could, and he hoped that God would not lay it to his charge if he could not digest iron as an ostrich did, nor take into his belief things that must burst him.” Accustomed to run on in conversation after this fashion, he excited a suspicion of his being an atheist, a charge which he utterly denied; betraying at the same time, in the midst of sickness, some kind and degree of spiritual feeling, whilst at other tunes he would profess a philosophical contempt of the world, and call the titles of rank rattles to please children.[62] The colouring of his mind was better than the drawing. He admired justice and liberty in theory,—he gave them up for places and titles in practice.[63] With little or no principle of any kind, he answered Dryden’s description—
“Jotham of piercing wit and frequent thought,
Endued by nature, and by learning taught
To move assemblies; but who only tried
The worse awhile, then chose the better side.”
The last line is scarcely true, but he well merited the name of Trimmer,[64] his constancy being confined to his warfare with the Church of Rome. Radnor, if we are to believe Burnet, was morose and cynical, learned but intractable, just in the administration of affairs, yet vicious under the appearance of virtue.[65] The gossip of the Court called him “an old snarling, troublesome, peevish fellow;” and even Clarendon speaks of him as of “a sour and surly nature, a great opiniâtre, and one who must be overcome before he would believe that he could be so.”[66] Of the Earl of Rochester, it is remarked by Roger North, “His infirmities were passion, in which he would swear like a cutter, and the indulging himself in wine. But his party was that of the Church of England, of whom he had the honour, for many years, to be accounted the head.”[67] But North, it must be remembered, was a man of violent prejudices, and his judgment of contemporaries must be estimated accordingly.
MEN IN POWER.
Lord Conway was a mere official, devoted rather to pleasure than business; and Sir Leoline Jenkins was an assiduous Secretary and a good lawyer. According to Burnet’s report, he was “set on every punctilio of the Church of England to superstition, and was a great asserter of the Divine right of monarchy, and was for carrying the prerogative high.”[68] Nonconformists could not expect any mercy or much justice from men like these.
A fiery zeal for Protestantism continued in the month of September, 1681, when an address was presented to the Lord Mayor of London from 20,000 apprentices, touching the “devilish plots carried on by the Papists.”[69] But before that time, the excitement which had been produced by Oates’ informations, and which had promoted the progress of Exclusion measures, began to subside, and a reaction in many quarters set in against the supporters of both.[70]
1681.
Burnet speaks of “a great heat raised against the clergy” in 1679: of Nonconformists behaving very indecently, and of the press, in which they had a great hand, becoming licentious against the Court and the clergy; but he does not specify what publications are meant. The only remarkable one mentioned by Calamy as appearing that year, is “A short and true account of the several advances the Church of England hath made towards Rome—or a model of the grounds upon which the Papists for these hundred years have built their hopes and expectations, that England would e’er long return to Popery, by Dr. Du Moulin, sometime History Professor of Oxford.”[71] Upon reading this book, it strikes me, that the sting is stronger in the title-page, than in the contents; it makes out a case as to Romanist tendencies against Laud and his party, rather than against contemporary Churchmen. At all events, alarm existed at the time—although a book like Du Moulin’s will not account for it—lest a new revolution should break out resembling that which occurred at the beginning of the Long Parliament. “The Bishops and clergy, apprehending that a rebellion, and with it the pulling the Church to pieces, was designed, set themselves, on the other hand, to write against the late times, and to draw a parallel between the present times and them; which was not decently enough managed by those who undertook the argument, and who were believed to be set on and paid by the Court.” Burnet’s statement is very loose, for without mentioning any book on the subject, by any Bishop,—although he might have cited what Morley, Bishop of Winchester, wrote soon afterwards,—he alludes to the writings of a layman, Roger L’Estrange, who richly deserves his severest condemnation. That man did more than any one to turn the tide of indignation into a new channel. People “seemed now to lay down all fears and apprehensions of Popery, and nothing was so common in their mouths, as the year ’41, in which the late Wars begun” (they did not begin till ’42,) “and which seemed now to be near the being acted over again. Both city and country were full of many indecencies that broke out on this occasion.”[72] Revolutionary designs were charged upon the Whig party generally; and Nonconformists unjustly came in for a large share of suspicion.
STEPHEN COLLEDGE.
1681.
The first-fruit of this reaction appears in the discovery of a pretended new plot against the life of the King, arranged to be executed during his stay in the City of Oxford. The person made the scape-goat of the offence was Stephen Colledge, who had acquired some notice as a violent Protestant, and who had mixed himself up with Oates and the other witnesses against the convicted Papists. Colledge being indicted at the Old Bailey, had no true Bill found against him. Political opinions then influenced Jurymen to an extent which shocks us now that everything is done to banish prejudice from our Courts of Justice; and therefore the Ministers of the Crown, who managed this prosecution, after being baffled by the Whigs, who formed the panel in London, determined to carry the case down to Oxford, where they could empanel a number of Tories.[73] A true bill being found at last, Chief Justice North tried the prisoner; and, on that occasion, behaved in such an infamous manner, that it was thought probable, if he had lived to see another Parliament, he might have been impeached.[74] Nothing which any lawyer would now consider treasonable, could be proved against Colledge; yet he was convicted, condemned, and executed. The fate of this man excited a great degree of interest at the time, he being considered a rebel by one party, and a martyr by another. Letters written to the Secretary of State after Colledge’s death indicate the eager desire of the former to establish his guilt;[75] and, if we may credit other letters, Nonconformists showed much sympathy with the sufferer. One writer thought it very credible, that the Presbyterians at Lewes did, against the execution of Colledge, keep a very strict fast; and it was supposed they of Chichester did the like, but the circumstance wanted confirmation. Another correspondent the same month reported that the general discourse in that Cathedral City turned upon the man’s innocence, and described how much he had been wronged, and how his blood would cry for vengeance against the rogues who took away his life.[76] It is a strange circumstance, but it illustrates the irrational feeling of the moment, that some people, who were hounding this poor fellow on to the gallows, called him a Papist, and some called him an Anabaptist. At Colledge’s execution the Sheriff evinced much anxiety to know whether he belonged to the Presbyterians, to the Independents, or to the Church of England. Colledge—after having previously declared that he never had been a Papist—replied, that before the Restoration, he was a Presbyterian; that since then he had conformed to the Episcopal Church, until he saw so much persecution of Dissenters; and that, afterwards, he had attended Presbyterian meetings “and others very seldom.” Yet he had not forsaken the Establishment altogether; for, only three weeks before his apprehension, he had attended the ministry of Dr. Tillotson. He wished for union, and lamented that some of the Church of England preached that the Presbyterians were worse than the Papists, although he was certain they were not men of vicious lives.
STEPHEN COLLEDGE.
1681.
It is plain, from his own words, that at the time of his being charged with treason, Colledge was identified with Nonconformity; and, in a letter written by some one (not known) to the Bishop of London, July 11, 1681, it is stated, that just then Nonconformists were building several meeting-houses; and that, after the acquittal of Colledge by the Grand Jury in London, these people grew increasingly impudent. Before his execution, there came to him in Oxford gaol—“a fanatic, desiring to pray with him, but being not permitted, unless he would use the Liturgy of the Church of England, he refused.”[77] We learn that the poor man received “the Blessed Sacrament” from Dr. Hall, to whom he made confession.[78] That confession, or a large portion of it, is preserved; and, in substance, it corresponds with his speech at the gallows. He acknowledged in his confession, that he might, on some occasions, have “uttered words of indecency, not becoming his duty concerning the King or his Council;” and, if so, he begged their pardon, and in his speech he admitted that he had arms in his possession; but, said he, “they were for our own defence in case the Papists should make any attempt upon us by way of massacre.” Both in his confession and speech, he stoutly denied, that he had entered into any plot; nor did any sufficient evidence of such a thing come out on his trial. From the confession, it further appeared, that on the Sunday before his execution, the messenger who brought word respecting the day on which he was to die, assured him he might even then save his life, if he would only confess who was the cause of his coming to Oxford. He persisted in maintaining, that his coming was entirely of his own accord, and without any treasonable intention whatever.[79]
REACTION.
At Colledge’s trial, Dugdale and Turbeville, formerly co-witnesses of Titus Oates, appeared against him, whilst Oates himself took Colledge’s part, and vilified his old associates. The wretched combination against the Roman Catholics now broke up: the conspirators were quarrelling, the house divided against itself could not stand, the Nonconformist, who in his Protestant zeal had mixed himself up with discreditable people, now appeared as the victim, his own eagerness to sweep away religionists whom he disliked, had stimulated his enemies to imitation; and, as we conclude this singular history, it is impossible to forget the words of Divine wisdom—“With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.”
The same reaction which destroyed the Protestant Joiner, struck down another person who declared himself the Protestant Earl.[80] Shaftesbury, after the dissolution of the Royal Parliament, being accused of entering into a conspiracy against the King, found himself within the gloomy walls of London Tower. His spirits and wit did not forsake him; and when accosted by one of the Popish lords, whom he had been instrumental in sending there not long before, he replied, “that he had been lately indisposed with an ague, and was come to take some Jesuit’s powder.” Everything which ingenuity, prompted by malice, could suggest was done to injure in public estimation the late popular nobleman, and to prejudice his trial. The clergy inveighed against him as “the Apostle of Schism;” and the Catholics called him “the Man of Sin.” By the Tories he was styled “Mephistopheles,” and “the Fiend;” and by Dryden he was satirized in his Absalom and Ahitophel. The Bill at the Old Bailey having been ignored, the popular favourite prosecuted his accusers; and would, if he could, have raised an insurrection against the Government. Finding that enterprise impossible, he escaped to Holland, and died there in February, 1683, enjoying the hospitality of the Republic, which he had threatened to overthrow. “Carthago,” was their generous and graceful retort—“non adhuc deleta, Comitem de Shaftesbury in gremio suo recipere vult.”[81]
1681.
RENEWED PERSECUTION.
The reaction went on, and began to sweep like a storm over the Dissenting Churches. The State Papers, after having for some years failed to supply illustrations of the condition of Nonconformity, again present a pile of informations and letters, proving the renewed activity of spies, and opening a fresh loop-hole through which we can discover the warfare going on against “the fanatics.” It is but just to the Government, to say, that as far as can be discovered from these records, this persecuting activity originated with individuals of the Tory and High Church party, who were continually writing to Sir Leoline Jenkins, informing him of political disaffection and of religious discontent. Loyal addresses streamed in from counties and towns, communications arrived respecting plots and disaffection, and complaints were also made of the non-execution of laws against Nonconformists.[82] All the way through, the object was to represent Nonconformists as disloyal, as traitors to their Prince, and as wishing to bring back the days of the Republic. So numerous, it is said, were these disaffected fanatics, that they swarmed everywhere,—none were safe from their influence. A question arose, whether even some of the King’s messengers were not “Meeters at Conventicles,” or, at least, persons who kept correspondence with such as went there.[83] Yet, amidst this chaos of informations, not the slightest hint appears of anything like proof of the existence of a Nonconformist plot; and, indeed, for the most part, the narratives furnished are of the idlest description, some of them written by very illiterate persons.
1681.
Mixed up with complaints about the Nonconformists are discreditable allusions to Churchmen, who, for their moderation and liberality, were suspected of being no better than schismatics. Rumours reached Northampton that Dr. Conant had been made Prebendary of Worcester, much to the wonder “of those who knew what, lately as well as formerly, his actions had been;” but these rumours were contradicted, “much to the satisfaction of all who had any kindness to the King or Church.”[84]
Waspish informers, buzzing about the ears of men of office, would under any circumstances have been annoying. Liberally-minded men—or rather men respecting the rights of conscience—whilst keeping their eyes open to detect dangers threatening the State, would have crushed, or at least have brushed away the troublesome insects; but the persons now in power were of a different character. Their known temper as high Churchmen and as high Tories encouraged the tribe to renew that infamous occupation, which happily had been gone now for some few years; and when these reports reached the Secretary, he not only graciously received them, but with his colleagues proceeded to take active measures against the suspected parties.
RENEWED PERSECUTION.
The names of the accused, the nature of the accusation, and allusions to the harvest of gain incident upon their conviction, are sufficient to prove how idle, and how much worse than idle, were the charges of disaffection. The State Papers supply proofs of the interference of Government to remove obstacles out of the way of magistrates and officers, who found it difficult to clothe their acts with a semblance of legality.[85] Public documents exhibit the further activity of the Court in the same direction at the close of this year. His Majesty in Council ordered the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, and also the magistrates of Middlesex, to use their utmost endeavours for the suppression of Conventicles. The last-mentioned body, in the following January (1682), having previously ordered a return of the ministers and hearers in Dissenting assemblies, now desired that the Bishop of London would direct his officers to employ the utmost diligence for the excommunication of persons who deserved such penalty, and to publish the fact of their excommunication, so that no one of them might be “admitted for a witness, or returned upon juries, or capable of suing for any debt.”[86]
1681.
A striking instance of the treatment of Nonconformists is supplied in the history of Nathaniel Vincent, brother of Thomas Vincent, whose ministerial labours have been already noticed. This ejected clergyman came to London soon after the great fire, and preached amidst the ruins to large multitudes. Occupying a Conventicle in Southwark, he was dragged out of the pulpit by the hair of his head, and, at a subsequent period, he suffered imprisonment in the Marshalsea, and the Gatehouse, where he was denied the use of pen, ink, and paper.[87] In an information, dated the 18th of December, the writer, after mentioning other places, describes a visit he paid to Vincent’s place of worship, when that minister hearing of the informer’s approach, slipped away, and left his congregation singing David’s psalms. The more the Justices talked, and the more they exhorted the people to disperse, the louder the people continued to sing. Churchwardens, overseers, and constables, all refused to give the names of the Conventiclers, pretending they did not know who they were. A friend of Vincent’s, writing the next day, speaks of him as a man of equal standing in the University with most of the Conformists in Southwark, holding doctrines accordant with the Articles, constantly praying for the King, and accustomed on Christmas Day to make a collection for the poor of the parish of St. Olaves.[88] And in a further information we discover a curious scrap of intelligence respecting his place of worship:—“Almost every seat that adjoins to the sides of the Conventicle has a door, like the sally port of a fire ship, to make escape by, and in each door is a small peep-hole, like to taverns’ and alehouses’ doors, to ken the people before they let them in.” The author of the document proceeds to relate how the Marshalls dispersed these congregations, how officers were appointed to visit other meeting-houses, and how an old woman hoped they would “rot in hell” for having disturbed her.[89]
NATHANIEL VINCENT.
1682.
We learn from another source that a Justice once entered the meeting during one of Vincent’s sermons, and commanded him in the King’s name to come down, to which the minister replied he was there by command of the King of kings, and had resolved to proceed with the service.[90] The enforcement upon him of a fine of £20 proving impracticable, an indictment followed, under the Act of the 35th of Elizabeth. Upon the Sunday preceding the day of his trial, he preached to his flock from the words, “Only let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ: that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel.” “There was a numerous auditory, insomuch that the people were ready to tread one upon another, and some hundreds went away that could not come near to hear him.” “In these sermons,” as further stated in the records of Vincent’s Church, “he earnestly pressed us to hold fast our profession, and to be steadfast in the cause of Christ. The 4th of January, before Mr. Vincent went to his trial, there was a solemn day of fasting and prayer kept at his own meeting-place, to seek the Lord on his behalf. On the 8th, there was a whole night spent in prayer. On the 9th he went to Dorking, and had his trial on the 10th, when he was not suffered to speak in his own defence, but was found guilty of the indictment, and was committed prisoner to the Marshalsea, in Southwark, for three months, and then, if he would not conform according to that statute, he was to adjure the realm or suffer death.” The Church, deprived of their pastor, was much harassed by their enemies; and we are informed, that on “the 10th day of this month, being Saturday, one Justice Balsh, a silk throwster by trade, and a very bitter enemy to the Lord’s people living in Spitalfields, having sent word to the other Justices of the Peace, his brethren that lived in those parts, that he would meet them very early the next morning, to disturb the Whigs at their meeting-places (for so they called Dissenters at that time), about eight of the clock at night, died suddenly in his chair, and never spake a word.” “The 11th, we met in Aldersgate-street at a cloth-worker’s, where Mr. Biggin, the minister, had but just begun prayer, but we were disturbed by the train-bands.” “April 1st, we met at Mr. Russell’s, in Ironmonger-lane, where Mr. Lambert administered to us the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper, and we sung a psalm with a low voice.”[91] This touching circumstance calls to mind two parallels—one in the history of the Huguenots, when they crept into their place of worship muffled up, and sang in suppressed tones one of Marot’s psalms; and the other in the history of the persecuted Christians of Madagascar, who when they secretly assembled for Divine service, were wont to sing in whispers.
PERSECUTION.
In November, informers broke into the house of Dr. Annesley, and distrained his goods for “several latent convictions;”[92] and, a month afterwards the same people entered his meeting-house and broke the seats in pieces; after which disturbance, worship was for a time suspended.[93] Others were treated in a similar manner.[94] The Bishop of London received orders from Court to require a return of all parishioners who did not attend church and receive the sacrament, several of whom were cited to appear in the spiritual court, but “the Bishop, and divers of his most conspicuous clergy, in the matter of persecution, carried themselves with great discretion and candour.”[95] A warrant, however, came out for the apprehension of Dr. Bates; and a little later, constables were posted at the doors of the “most known meeting-places in the City, so that there were few sermons in them, at least at the usual hours.”[96]
1682.
In December fifty warrants for distresses in Hackney were signed; one for the sum of £500, the others of different amounts, making up altogether £1,400. Soon afterwards, 200 documents of the same kind were served upon certain inhabitants of the town of Uxbridge and its neighbourhood on account of their attending the proscribed Conventicles.[97] At the same time, it is recorded that “on the Lord’s Day the Dissenters were in some places in the City kept out, but in most they met, though they varied hours; few were actually disturbed, but the difficulties upon them were great.”[98]
Whilst the London informers utterly failed to supply a shadow of proof that the Nonconformists were engaged in any treasonable designs, other informers in distant parts of the country strove, with a like want of evidence, to attach to their Dissenting neighbours the most infamous suspicions. A clergyman at Kirk Newton had been assaulted by burglars, who broke open his stable and stole two mares. Immediately a letter was despatched to the Duke of Newcastle, signed by three persons—who said, “We must conclude these men to be some fanatics or sent by them;” the Vicar being “a zealous man for the Church of England and a loyal person,” the circumstance calls for “some speedy course to suppress such insolences.”[99]
PERSECUTION.
About Midsummer there came another batch of papers for the Secretary’s examination, supplying the names of ministers in the Borough of Southwark, their respective meeting-houses and the number of their hearers.[100] The illness from which the King just then was suffering, it is said, produced a great excitement amongst Dissenters, and a few days after the arrival of the last of these despatches at the Secretary’s office, the Lord Mayor of London issued a proclamation, in which he alluded to tumults occasioned by putting the law into execution against Conventicles.[101]