CHAPTER I.
William Henry, Prince of Orange, was a member of the House of Nassau—the antiquity of which is traced by some historians as far back as the days of Julius Cæsar. Others are content to stop at Count Otho, in the 12th century, whom they regard as founder of the family, because, through his wife, he obtained large possessions in the Low Countries. The immediate ancestors of William Henry are renowned as fathers of the Dutch Republic, and from them he inherited patriotic virtues.
He was born in Holland on the 14th of November, 1650—the posthumous son of William II., who had in 1641 married Mary, the eldest daughter of Charles I. of England. He created the fondest hopes, and medals were struck to commemorate his auspicious birth. “Though the orange-tree be fallen down,” so ran the Dutch legend in allusion to his father’s death, “this noble sprig has been preserved, by Divine care, in the bosom of Mary. Thus the father arises after his death like a phenix in his son. May he grow, may he flourish, and in virtue excel the greatest princes, to the glory and safety of his country.” At the age of ten, the youth lost his mother, who died within her native shores in 1660, when on a visit to her brother Charles. The affectionate care of his grandmother could not make up for these bereavements, and this child of sorrow had the further misfortune to be deprived of the hereditary Stadtholdership bestowed on his ancestors by the States General. With the death of his mother came the loss, for a time, of the Principality of Orange, which was unscrupulously seized by Louis XIV., who demolished the fortifications of the town.
William’s education fell into the hands of the Barneveldt party, headed by the two De Witts, who sought to break down his spirit, and refused him a range of education befitting his rank. Having been brought up in the Stadtholder’s Palace at the Hague—which then, as now, uniquely combined, in streams and woods, the quiet rusticity of a village, with the bustle and magnificence of a metropolis—he received a notice to quit his ancestral abode in his seventeenth year, and only retained the favourite residence, by declaring that nothing but force should tear him from its hearthstone.
First made Captain and Admiral-General, and then forced by public acclamation into the position of Chief Magistrate when he was but twenty-two—at a time of tremendous peril—he had to bear the yoke in his youth. Nothing indeed could have saved his dominions just then but the magnanimity inspired by memories of his country’s heroic struggles with Spain: that magnanimity he expressed in the well-known words, “There is one method which will save me from the sight of my country’s ruin: I will die in the last ditch.”
EARLY DAYS OF WILLIAM
The man whom I have thus described had from infancy suffered from bad health. Asthma and consumption—likely to be increased by the damp atmosphere and the unhealthy fogs which float about the Dutch dykes—rendered it necessary for him to be propped up in bed, when cruel headaches did not make repose impossible; and soon after reaching manhood, he had to endure a severe attack of that virulent disease—small-pox. Such circumstances did not improve a melancholy temperament. Not naturally unamiable, William, like his countrymen, was grave and taciturn; and amongst his original endowments we notice a judgment unaccompanied by imagination, but with a quick perception and a keen forecast, which made him sensitively alive to the responsibilities and issues of his own career. He saw himself entering a thorny road, which might conduct to prosperity or end in defeat; at any rate, he resolved it should not lead to disgrace. In such circumstances and with such a character, we are not surprised to find him pronounced cold, reserved, and phlegmatic. His lofty forehead, piercing eyes, aquiline nose, and compressed lips, indicated energy of mind and force of will; but attenuated features, delicate limbs, and feeble gait, betrayed the frailty of the framework which encased his soul.
People of his disposition at times reveal the existence of tender sensibilities. They form friendships limited in extent, but intense in degree. Nor do sallies of humour fail to sparkle in their sombre lives. William’s almost romantic love for Bentinck, who watched him in illness, is generally known. Less noticed is the Prince’s power of repartee. One day as he walked in the pleasant gardens of the Hague, the Grand Pensionary praised one of the parterres. “Yes,” replied His Highness, “this garden is very fine, but there is too much white in it.” The lilies were abundant, but the Pensionary—whose name, De Witt, meant white—perceived at once that William was thinking more of him and of his influence than of the flowers smiling at his feet. Averse to fashionable amusements, he dearly loved the chase. He was, according to Sir William Temple, always in bed and asleep by ten o’clock; and he preferred a “tumbler of cold ale” to a glass of the choicest wine.[1]
The Prince paid a second visit to England in 1678, when he married his cousin, the Princess Mary—a match which, though suggested by State policy, turned out one of pure affection. It prepared the way for the part he was to play in the Revolution, and on account of that event, which, in its ecclesiastical consequences, forms a prominent subject in this volume, a glance at his early life has been deemed essential.
What most concerns us is not his military and political character, not his career as a soldier or a statesman, but his religious opinions, sympathies, and policy, and the bearing of these upon the changes wrought during his reign in the ecclesiastical affairs of our country.
William was a staunch Calvinist. “He was much possessed with the belief of absolute decrees,” and said to Burnet he adhered to them “because he did not see how the belief of Providence could be maintained upon any other supposition.”[2] Such convictions in such a man became elements of heroism, but it was thought, not perhaps without reason, that more care had been taken to impress his mind with the doctrine of Predestination, than to guard him against abuses incident to such an opinion. Yet there appears nothing fanatical in William’s religion, and whatever might be his moral conduct, it did not seem to have been connected with Antinomian prejudices, or with any doubt of the obligations of Christian virtue. It is remarkable, that though in Holland, at the time of the Synod of Dort, Calvinism appeared in union with intolerance, William had no sympathy in that feeling. Toleration was a ruling idea in his mind; and he blamed the English Church for alienating itself from other communions, and for claiming infallibility in practice, though eschewing it in theory.
PRINCESS MARY IN HOLLAND.
He had been brought up a Presbyterian, but he appears to have regarded Church government of secondary importance, and, as events proved, he could conform to Episcopacy. Indeed, it is said by Burnet—who claimed to know him well—that he, on the whole, preferred the English to the Dutch type of ecclesiastical rule.[3] The Prince had no reverence for antiquity, no æsthetic taste, no sensibility under the touch of elaborate ceremonies, or amidst the flow of harmonious music. He preferred an unritualistic worship, and distinctly disapproved of the surplice, the cross in baptism, and bowing to the altar; yet, again, we are assured that he highly esteemed the worship, as well as the polity, of the Church of England.[4]
After his marriage with the Princess Mary, he formed an acquaintance with English Divines. Dr. Hooper became chaplain to the Princess, on the recommendation of Archbishop Sancroft; and he remained in office a year and a half. The chaplain found Her Royal Highness reading works favourable to Dissenters; to counteract their tendency, he recommended works of another description. One day the Prince observed his wife with the pages of Eusebius and Hooker open on her table, when he exclaimed, “I suppose Dr. Hooker persuades you to read these books?” She had at first no chapel of her own for Divine worship; at the Doctor’s request, a room was fitted up, with a communion-table elevated on steps. The Prince, as he saw them being made, rudely kicked at them, asking what they meant. Informed on the point, he answered “with a hum.” After the chapel had been fitted up, he never attended Divine service there; and as this chaplain talked about the Popish Plot and the indulgence of Dissenters in terms less favourable to the latter than His Highness liked, he bluntly said, “Well, Dr. Hooper, you will never be a Bishop;” and on another occasion remarked if he had ever “anything to do with England, Dr. Hooper should be Dr. Hooper still.”[5]
Ken succeeded Hooper in 1679; we have no particulars of his relations with William, but those relations do not seem to have been very cordial. Each of the clergymen now mentioned belonged to the High Church party, and William could not agree with either, so that the end of Ken’s connection with the Dutch Court produced satisfaction on both sides. Yet the conduct of this excellent man “gained him entire credit and high esteem with the Princess, whom to his death he distinguished by the title of his Mistress.”[6]
The sincerity and strength of William’s Protestantism was unmistakable. Protestantism had the approval of his intellect, and it penetrated his soul. In him, cold as he was, it existed not merely as an opinion, but as a passion. It accompanied him into the Cabinet and the field, tincturing all his views; it pervaded all his purposes, shaped all his policy. Protestantism for Holland was his first thought, Protestantism for Europe his second; and he saw dependent upon Protestantism the political, commercial, and social prosperity of nations, scarcely less than the spiritual well-being of individuals. Roman Catholicism to his mind was identical with a violation of the law of God and an invasion of the rights of man; yet his large views of toleration embraced Roman Catholics; he would not rob any man of the liberty of conscience, but the ascendency of the Romanist system, and the tendency of its spirit, he thoroughly abhorred as one of the worst foes to the welfare of the race. France at that moment showed herself to be more violently Roman Catholic than the Pope himself, and was seeking to establish control over Europe. Therefore towards France William turned a gaze of defiance, prepared to shed the last drop of his blood in resisting her ambition. Louis XIV. stood forth as William’s personal enemy, but William’s history shows how much more he himself was swayed in this respect by reason than by resentment. At the same time he regarded Holland as one of the last defences of liberty, and desired to see England united with that country in the resistance of a common foe.
PRINCESS MARY IN HOLLAND.
Mary responded to her husband’s sentiments. Although nurtured in a Roman Catholic atmosphere, she proved herself entirely free from Roman Catholic predilections, and indicated a preference for Low Church principles. A woman of reading, she turned her attention to the controversies of the day, and not only resisted the attempts of her father to convert her to Popery, but, with all her respect for Ken, kept herself free from the ecclesiastical views which that devout man resolutely upheld.
In 1686, Gilbert Burnet accepted an invitation to the Hague, and availed himself of opportunities to support the Low Church opinions of the Prince and his Consort. The historian of his Own Times has taken posterity into his confidence, and he relates, with characteristic vanity, how he advised his illustrious friends in matters of the highest importance. But whatever may be thought of Burnet’s foibles, he appears to have judiciously counselled both husband and wife, especially the latter, and to have done much towards a wise settlement of the Crown at the Revolution. His counsels were in favour of constitutional government and of toleration; and he inculcated upon Mary that whenever she might inherit her father’s throne, she should use her influence to obtain for her husband real and permanent authority. Such advice laid the Prince, and the country of his adoption, under lasting obligations to the busy Whig Churchman.
As the peculiar relation in which this noble couple stood to this kingdom could not but interest them in English affairs, neither could it fail to attract towards them the attention of the English people. English Protestants sympathized with William in his continental policy. They disliked France almost as much as he did. The Huguenots driven to our shores were memorials before their eyes of Roman Catholic intolerance; and besides this, they knew that their own fellow countrymen naturalized in France had to suffer from the repeal of the Edict of Nantes, and that the wives and children of those so naturalized had to suffer in the same way. Moreover, they learned that dragoons were quartered upon English merchants residing in France, to prevent their passing the frontiers, and to compel them to change their religion.[7] These circumstances, backed by the humiliating fact, that the Stuarts were hirelings of Louis, brought the feelings of Protestant Englishmen into sympathy with those of the Netherland Stadtholder. He, in his turn, looked with anxiety towards this country whilst suffering under the misgovernment of James II. What James was doing for Dissenters by a stretch of prerogative, William wished to see done by constitutional law. Mary took a still more lively, because a patriotic, interest in these subjects, and disapproved of her father’s despotism and Popery. For the Church of England she had a strong affection, which she expressed to Archbishop Sancroft, when congratulating him upon the firmness of the clergy in their religion as well as their loyalty.[8]
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
Matters in England were brought to a crisis in the month of June. Upon Trinity Sunday, the 10th of the month—two days after the imprisonment of the seven Bishops—London was thrown into frantic excitement by a report that James’s Queen had presented him with a son and heir. A Popish successor would bring upon the country those calamities of which the prospect for two reigns had filled men with dismay. The bulk of the people could not believe the fact. They declared that the Queen had not been confined at all—that she for some time had worn a cushion under her dress—that her pretended son had been conveyed into her chamber in a silver warming-pan on a Sunday morning, when Whig lords and ladies, who otherwise might have detected the cheat, were lying in bed or were gone to prayers. Stories the most absurd and disgusting were believed. At that moment anything seemed more credible than the simple event which had really occurred. The news of this assumed Royal conspiracy flew over to Holland, and it created the utmost consternation, William and Mary sincerely believing what they were confidently told. At all events, the child—of whose supposititious character the idea vanished afterwards from all but the most fanatical minds—was publicly baptized in the Church of Rome, the Pope’s Nuncio standing sponsor. This added to the national exasperation, and the Whig and Protestant party immediately began to think of seeking succour from Holland, and putting an end at all hazards to the existing state of things.
1688.
William had before this become the head of the English opposition. Old Republicans and old Royalists, Anglican Churchmen who hated Rome, Latitudinarian Churchmen who loved liberty, and Evangelical Churchmen who believed in Calvinism—Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, the first anxious for comprehension, the second and third wishing only for freedom of worship—all had been turning their thoughts for some time to the Prince of Orange as the star of their hopes. English soldiers, English sailors, and English Divines, had publicly presented themselves in the old Gothic Binnenhof of the Hague, or held private interviews with the Dutch Governor. The Earl of Devonshire, Lord Shrewsbury, Admiral Herbert, Lord Lumley, and others, had written to His Highness, more or less explicitly, offering to devote to him their fortunes and their lives.
This went on in the spring of 1688, amidst excitements produced by the Declaration of Indulgence. Holland at the same period felt deep sympathy with England.
Dr. Edmund Calamy, grandson of the well-known Puritan, in the early part of 1688 lived as a student at Utrecht, and he says there prevailed in the States a conviction that their own, and the Protestant interest in general, could be preserved only by a revolution in England, since nothing else could prevent Europe from being ingulfed in France; he adds, the Dutch were disposed to assist in making head against King James, and in relieving the people, who cried to them for succour, as they, a century before, had appealed for help to Queen Elizabeth.[9]
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
A decided but perilous step was taken in England on the 30th of June, the day of the Bishops’ acquittal. By a letter written amidst the excitement of that event, which shook not the English throne but him who sat on it, seven members of the Whig party invited the Prince of Orange to come over. They informed him of the prevalent dissatisfaction of the people with the Government, and of their willingness to rise in defence of their liberties, if His Highness would land with sufficient strength to put himself at the head of the Protestant party. They stated that the soldiers unequivocally manifested an aversion to the Popish religion; that they certainly would desert the Royal standard in great numbers; and that not one out of ten in the navy could be trusted in case of an invasion. They promised to attend on His Highness as soon as he should land; and they commissioned a confidential messenger to consult with him about artillery and ammunition. This act of daring treason, or of triumphant patriotism—whichever the issue might determine it to be—decidedly turned the scales which quivered between further delay and immediate action. The “immortal seven,” as they have been called, who signed in cypher, were Shrewsbury, Devonshire, Danby, Lumley, Russel, Sydney, and Compton, Bishop of London.[10] The conspirators—perfect in number like the Bishops, now at the moment of their acquittal and ovation—thus cast the die which might bring death, which did bring freedom. The adhesion of Compton to this scheme is what most concerns us, as it indicates the early infusion of an ecclesiastical element into this undertaking—an element which became deeper, wider, stronger, as time rolled on. In less than a month afterwards the same dignitary replied to a letter from the Prince concerning the trial of the seven Bishops, and informed him how sensible he and others were of the advantage of having so powerful a friend; that they would make no ill use of it; and that they were so well satisfied of the justness of their cause, that they would lay down their lives rather than forsake it.[11]
1688.
William must for some time have been expecting overtures. They would not find a man of so much forecast unprepared; yet not a little remained to be done that the proposed descent might prove a success. The remainder of summer and the early part of autumn were spent in secret military preparations at home, in secret diplomatical negotiations abroad. He even decoyed the Pope into his toils, by baits which did more credit to his statesmanship than to his honesty. He persuaded His Holiness to advance money for an attack, as he thought, upon France, in reality upon England. Rome, ever trying to over-reach others, was herself over-reached; and help, supposed to be rendered for the humiliation of a power then inimical to the Papal Court, came to be applied to the overthrow of a Popish Sovereign and the strengthening of the cause of European Protestantism.[12]
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
When the military movements in Holland became generally known, they were given out to be intended for a campaign against France, in which the Prince was to receive support from the Imperial army on the Rhine; yet, whatever dust might be thrown in men’s eyes, the real truth appeared to many. Even as early as the 7th of August, news of the Prince’s intention to come over with an army reached the quiet cloisters of Westminster Abbey; and Dr. Patrick, at four o’clock in the afternoon, received at his prebendal residence tidings of the important secret through his friend, Dr. Tenison, who came “to have some private conversation.”[13] But almost up to the last hour James remained in the dark, partly through his own obtuseness, partly—and much more—through the selfish designs of France, through the treachery of courtiers, and through denials made by the Dutch Ambassador. No doubt a clear-headed man, with a sharp eye, would have caught signs of the true direction of the brewing storm; but a man like James, narrow-minded and prejudiced, might easily be duped by diplomatic arts and courtierly deceit. He persuaded himself into the belief that the rumours of a Dutch invasion of England were raised by the Court of France to promote his political interests and to bring him into closer alliance with Louis[14]—a policy at that moment appearing to him most perilous, because it would be sure to increase his unpopularity with his subjects.
His conduct after the acquittal of the Bishops proves that he had not learnt wisdom from that significant event. His treatment of the lawyers, in the face of public opinion, seems incredible. He honoured with a baronetcy Williams, the Solicitor-General, who led the prosecution, and Holloway and Powell, who gave it as their opinion that the Bishops’ petition did not amount to a libel, he punished by dismissal from the Bench.
1688.
To the Judges who went their circuits in the summer, Royal instructions were communicated to the effect, that they should persuade the people to assist in supporting the unpopular Declaration for liberty of conscience, telling them that a Parliament would speedily be called to make the Sovereign’s favour statute law. Churchmen were to be assured of the fulfilment of His Majesty’s promises; and persons of all classes were to be reminded what a gracious Prince they had upon the throne. Liberty of conscience, they were to be informed, had advanced the trade, and would prove the means of increasing the population of the country. The tone was fair—the phraseology specious; but the friends of freedom were not to be hoodwinked after this fashion.
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
Justice Allybone, a reputed Papist, sought, at the Croydon Assizes, to give effect to these instructions, by the charge which he then delivered to the Grand Jury. After dealing in a few commonplaces as to the desirableness of living in love, and the blessings of religious liberty, and after maintaining that the King wished every one to be as free in his conscience as in his thoughts, immediately applied what he had advanced to the Sacramental Test. “Why,” he asked, “because I cannot take the Test, must I be hindered of an employment in the world? This, gentlemen, pincheth sore with them in liberal education. It is said, ‘Upon this Rock will I build my Church.’ Was this meant of the Church of England?—it was but of yesterday’s standing. So, gentlemen, ’tis but a flourish. Gentlemen, the end of the Test is not religion, but preferment; if any one therefore should be hindered upon just pretences for religion, then religion is not at the bottom of it. This, gentlemen, is a matter of great importance. It is in the Catechism that Christ is really in the Lord’s Supper; nor hath it been objected against the Church of Rome, by the Church of England, that He was not really, but by way of presentation, and that is a great reproach. Christ Himself told us He was there; now, be you not more strict than Christ Himself. I am not arguing what my sense is, but I am only showing, that as the Church of England would impose, that Christ was by way of presentation, is it not equally difficult that we shall believe thus and thus? Is not the like liberty to be had and taken of one side, as well as the other? Gentlemen, I only argue this for the incoherence of the thing.” The meaning which the Croydon Grand Jury might gather from this wretched rabble of words would be, that the Judge put in a plea for the toleration of Catholics—a plea which, however just, wore at that crisis a suspicious aspect, and could find no favour with the Surrey squires. Allybone finished by remarking that he would not have the world mistaken about the Bishops’ trial—it was not for religion they were tried, “they were tried for acting against the Government, for publishing a libel which tended to sedition. The King,” he said, “commands them with the advice of his Council for to publish his Declaration; they would not do it. If the King had been Turk or Jew, it had been all one—for the subject ought to obey.”[15] The infatuation of the Judge equalled the infatuation of the King.
1688.
Of course the effect was to identify the Judges with unconstitutional indulgence. Where it had been successful, they were welcomed—where it had created alarm, they were rebuffed.
Down in the West, the Declaration had been published by some—by others denounced. The wearers of the ermine were treated accordingly. Trelawny, one of the seven Bishops, wrote to Sancroft, at the time of the Assizes, a letter which gives us some idea of what was going on at Bristol and Exeter:—
“May it please your Grace,
“Mr. Gilbert, the bearer, going for London, and being desirous of paying his duty to your Grace, I gave him this opportunity, as well to receive your blessing as to present you with the present state of the West. He is the laborious minister of Plymouth, who, by his courage, life, and doctrine, hath done a great deal of good in that town. I wish his Lordship the Bishop of Exeter had as fixt and steady resolutions, but his Lordship, acting according to a settled maxim of his own, I will be safe, had given order for the publishing the Declaration, notwithstanding the Bishop of Bath and Wells, and my letter to him; and was at last brought to recall them by the Dean’s sending him word, that if he would betray the Church, he should not the Cathedral; for he would rather be hanged at the doors of it, than that the Declaration should be read there, or in any part of his jurisdiction, which is large in the county. The gentry and clergy complained to me very much of the Bishop’s giving a church to the Mayor[16] for his Conventicle (in which the Declaration was read), and for his great respects to Mr. Beare, the last sessions, which gave great offence. Who this Mr. Beare is, Mr. Gilbert can give your Grace a full account. I had a long and warm argument with the Bishop, to divert him from waiting on the Judges and treating them,—setting at large before him what a malicious, wicked instrument Justice Bolduck was in our business; but all I said was to no purpose. However, the Dean and Chapter assured me, they would withdraw their civility, and not receive them either at the church or at an entertainment, as hath been customary. I hope I shall do some good with the gentry of Devonshire and Cornwall. I humbly beg your blessing, and remain,
“Yours Grace’s most obedient, humble servant,
“J. Bristol.”[17]
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
The Bishop of Exeter was Dr. Lamplugh, and how he was rewarded for his devotion to the measures of the Court will presently appear.
James’s proceedings in reference to the Church at this time were in keeping with the rest of his conduct. He issued an order, requiring Chancellors of Dioceses and Archdeacons to report to the High Commission the names of those who had not published the Declaration. This went too far even for his friends. Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, immediately resigned his seat, and the rest of the Commissioners becoming alarmed, as well they might, hesitated to proceed with the odious investigation. In the same month of July, James sent a mandate to Oxford for the election of Jeffreys to the Chancellorship; a disgrace which the authorities of the Universities prevented by stealing a march on the Monarch, and electing a Chancellor before the mandate arrived. On the 13th of August the King exercised anew his dispensing power, by charging the Wardens and Fellows of All Souls, Oxford, to admit John Cartwright to the Vicarage of Barking, notwithstanding any custom or constitution to the contrary.[18] Next, on the 23rd, he nominated to the Bishopric of Oxford, Timothy Hall, who had gained notoriety by reading the Declaration. Such persistency in an unpopular course increased national indignation; all classes became more and more weary of this galling despotism, and were goaded on to hasten the King’s downfall.
1688.
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
Whilst such were the proceedings of the temporal head of the Church, what was the course pursued by the Primate? Sancroft despatched admonitions to the clergy of his province, exhorting them to the zealous discharge of their duties, and concluding his appeal by recommending them to show a friendly spirit towards Nonconformists, by visiting them and receiving them kindly at their own homes, with a view to persuade them “to a full compliance with our Church.” They were to insist upon two points: that the Bishops were irreconcilable enemies to Rome, and that jealousies to the contrary were altogether groundless. Finally, clergymen were invited to pray for the union of all Reformed Churches, both at home and abroad, against their common foe, and that all who confessed the name of our dear Lord, might meet in one communion and live in godly love.[19] Next—and more surprising, when we think of the Archbishop’s High Church views—he is said to have engaged in a scheme of comprehension, the design being, so far as it can be gathered from a speech made long afterwards by Dr. Wake, to amend and improve the discipline of the Church; to review and enlarge the Liturgy, by correcting some things, by adding others; and, it is stated, that he proposed, if advised by authority, to have the matter considered first in Convocation, then in Parliament.[20] This would have been to walk in steps taken by Low Churchmen some years before, and to anticipate the endeavours of the same class of Churchmen some months afterwards. When efforts had been made in that direction by Tillotson and others, the Archbishop had not showed the least disposition to help them; and on the whole it appears to me that so cautious and conservative a man as Sancroft could never have intended to go the length which the reports just noticed might indicate to ecclesiastical reformers. Indeed, Wake, when he repeated the story, took care to add that the intended changes related “to things of more ordinary composition,” whilst the doctrine, government, and worship of the Church were to remain entire. Probably the alterations contemplated by Sancroft were very slight indeed, and certainly they were conceded only in consequence of the excitement of the times.
1688.
Before the end of September, the King, being unable any longer to resist, altered his policy; he and the Archbishop came together, the former beginning at last to be frightened; the latter anxious to do what he could to save his master. On the 21st of September, a Declaration appeared, to the effect that it was the Royal purpose to provide a legal security for universal liberty of conscience, yet to preserve the Church of England in particular, and to secure the Protestant religion in general; at the same time it was indicated that Roman Catholics were to remain incapable of being members of Parliament.[21] Upon the 24th, Sancroft received a summons to attend the Royal presence, and a like command was sent to Compton, Bishop of London; Mew, of Winchester; Turner, of Ely; Lake, of Chichester; Ken, of Bath and Wells; White, of Peterborough; Trelawny, of Bristol; and Sprat, of Rochester. They were men of different mark: Compton had gone beyond any of his brethren in bold resistance of James’s policy; Mew had been a Royalist in the days of Charles I., and had fought as a soldier in his master’s service; Trelawny had won popularity by being one of the imprisoned seven, but, like other men in Church and State, he had shown a time-serving spirit.[22] Sprat distinguished himself as an accommodating mortal; the rest were High Churchmen, and supporters of the divine right of Kings.
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
On the day of dispatching the summons, James told Clarendon that the Dutch were coming in earnest to invade England. “And now, my Lord,” he added, “I shall see what the Church of England men will do.”[23] On the 26th, the King saw Turner, Bishop of Ely, who reported that the conversation which arose was only of a general kind. Whatever liberal sentiments might have dawned on the Royal mind, all seemed dark on the 27th, when the Lord Chancellor informed Clarendon that some rogues had changed the King’s purposes, that he would yield in nothing to the Bishops, “that the Virgin Mary was to do all.”
1688.
The first meeting between the King and the Bishops took place on Friday, September the 28th. All invited were present, except Sancroft, who excused himself on the ground of being unwell, and Compton and Trelawny, who did not reach town in time. Their brethren, however, who, like them, were in the country when the command arrived, managed to be there. The Prelates came prepared honestly to give advice; but James, no doubt under the influence mentioned by Clarendon, was very reserved, on the one hand declaring his goodwill to the Church of England, and on the other, reminding his spiritual advisers of their duty to be loyal to the Crown. Ken plainly expressed his disappointment, observing that “His Majesty’s inclinations towards the Church, and their duty to him, were sufficiently understood and declared before, and would have been equally so if they had not stirred one foot out of their dioceses.”[24] As the Prelates issued from the Royal presence, the courtiers loitering about the closet door, full of curiosity as to this much-talked-of interview, inquired, “How things went?” The Bishop of Winchester—“poor man,” as Clarendon calls, him—answered, “Omnia bene.”[25] James wished to make capital for himself out of what had taken place, and immediately announced to his subjects, through the Gazette, that several of the Bishops having attended, he was pleased, amongst other gracious expressions, to let them know that he would signify his pleasure for taking off the suspension of the Bishop of London, which was done accordingly. That any such communication was made could scarcely have been gathered from the account of the audience given by others.
The same Gazette contained a Proclamation, dated September the 28th, stating, that undoubted advice had been received of a projected invasion from Holland, under false pretences relating to liberty, property, and religion, but really aiming at the conquest of the kingdom. The King declared his purpose to resist this attempt, to venture his life for the honour of the nation; and deferring at present the meeting of Parliament, he called upon his subjects to resist their enemies, and prohibited any assistance being given them on pain of high treason.[26]
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
The Bishops were dissatisfied with the interview of the 28th, and requested the Archbishop to procure another audience. One was appointed for Tuesday, the 2nd of October; then it was postponed until the following day. The Prelates occupied the interval in careful deliberation, and drew up a paper, in which they advised, that the management of affairs in the counties should be entrusted to qualified persons amongst the nobility and gentry; that the Ecclesiastical Commission should be annulled, dispensations terminated, the President and Fellows of Magdalen restored, licenses to Papists recalled, the Vicars Apostolical inhibited, vacant Bishoprics filled, Quo Warrantos superseded, charters restored, a Parliament called, in which, with due regard to the security of the Established Religion, liberty of conscience should be granted; and, finally, permission vouchsafed to the Bishops to attempt the re-conversion of His Majesty to the Protestant faith.
The paper containing this advice was signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishops of London, Winchester, Asaph, Ely, Chichester, Rochester, Bath and Wells, and Peterborough.[27]
Before the Bishops were admitted to the conference, James made another concession to popular excitement, by declaring in Council to the Aldermen of London, his intention to restore to the City the much-prized charter of which it had been deprived.
1688.
On the 3rd of October the second meeting of the Bishops with the King occurred. They presented their paper, and whatever the immediate effect of their last request might have been, they now received the assurance of a gracious consideration being given to their requests. The King almost immediately afterwards extinguished the Commission, and signified his purpose of rectifying corporate abuses.[28]
Within a few days, collects were drawn up by the Bishops, to be used in all cathedral, collegiate, and parochial churches and chapels within the kingdom during this time of public danger. They received His Majesty’s approval, and were printed for general use. It is curious to observe that they are so framed as to lay all the blame of existing calamities on the shoulders of the people, and to breathe a spirit of intense loyalty to His Majesty’s person.[29]
PREPARATIONS FOR REVOLUTION.
Upon the 12th of October, the King authorized the Bishop of Winchester to settle the troubles at Magdalen College; but so suspicious had the public become in reference to the Royal sincerity, that it was currently and falsely reported immediately afterwards, that he had altered his mind, and withdrawn the order.[30]
Repeated Royal conferences could not be held without attracting attention. They became the subject of common talk, and the suspicious temper of people appeared in a rumour, that the right reverend fathers were being hoodwinked by a Popish Sovereign and his Popish Councillors. Evelyn wrote to Sancroft on the 10th of October, telling him that the calling of His Grace and the Bishops to Court, and what had been required of them, was only calculated to create jealousies and suspicions amongst well-meaning people—the whole of the plan being the work of Jesuits. He also complained that in all the Declarations published in pretended favour of the Church of England, there was not once any mention made of the Reformed or Protestant religion.[31]
In another letter, the contents of which were intended to be communicated to His Grace, serious charges are alluded to as brought against the Bishops.
1688.
“Knowing your interest in my Lord’s Grace of Canterbury,” says the writer, “you are desired to let him know that it was my fortune this week to have the sight of a most malicious libel against the most eminent Bishops of the Church of England; the extent and substance of it is to show how the Bishops mind only popularity, and to make a noise in the world. For that the Bishops themselves do dispense with the laws and canons of the Church, as well as the King hath done by virtue of his prerogative. This was lent me to peruse one evening, so that I could not read it fully, but the chief thing they aim at is to show that the Bishops do dispense with non-residence, contrary to the canons of the Church and the Statute of the land, made 21 Henry VIII. 13. Some things are frivolous, and some very sharp, and I fear too true; so that I wrote out the heads on the chapter of non-residence, which is very virulent, and filled with near 300 instances of prebends and clergymen that are non-resident, contrary to the law in all counties of England; for they have a perfect account from all counties, except about eight or ten, which are promised against this term; and had not this juncture of affairs hindered, it had been fully printed in a few weeks.” After transcribing the heads, the writer proceeds: ”All these heads have several scandalous instances (that lack reformation) in many counties, and it would be happy if my good Lord of Canterbury did require a speedy reformation, and make all Ecclesiastical Judges inquire into the truth hereof, and give him a speedy account, and so prevent these just scandals, which will otherwise fall upon the Bishops of the Church of England.”[32]