This left the matter precisely where it was, for the king had always contended that he did nothing but what was warranted by his prerogative. The House felt this, and at once expressed their grievous disappointment. To add to their chagrin, Charles sent a message to them, informing them that he should dissolve Parliament on the 11th of June, it now being the 5th. A deep and melancholy silence pervaded the House, which locked the doors to prevent interruption, and debated the matter in all earnestness. A second message from his majesty, commanding them not to cast or lay aspersions on any minister of his majesty, added greatly to the concern of the House. On the day but one before Sir John Eliot had urged the necessity of a "declaration" to his majesty, showing the decay and contempt of religion, and the insufficiency of his ministers, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster had styled Sir John's speech "strange language," and had declared that if Sir John went on, he would go out; upon which the House told him plainly to take himself off. This had brought down the king's second message. The debate went on amid tears and deep emotion from strong and long-practised men; as if they perceived that the great crisis of the nation was come, and foresaw the bloodshed and misery which were to follow if they stood firm to their knowledge of the right; the slavery and degradation of England if they did not.
Sir Robert Philips, interrupted by sobs and weeping, said:—"I perceive that towards God and towards man there is little hope, after our humble and careful endeavours, seeing our sins are many and so great. I consider my own infirmities, and if ever my passions were wrought upon, it is now. This message stirs me up, especially when I remember with what moderation we have proceeded." These earnest and religious men feared that God was hardening the heart of the king as he had done that of Pharaoh, in order to punish the nation for its backslidings and wickedness. "Our sins," said Sir John Eliot, "are so exceeding great, that unless we speedily turn to God, God will remove Himself farther from us. You know with what affection and integrity we have proceeded hitherto, to gain his majesty's heart; and, out of the necessity of our duty, were brought to that course we were in: I doubt a misrepresentation to his majesty hath drawn this mark of his displeasure upon us. I observe in the message, amongst other sad particulars, it is conceived that we were about to lay some aspersions upon the Government. Give me leave to protest that so clear were our intentions, that we desire only to vindicate these dishonours to our king and country. It is said also as if we cast some aspersions on his majesty's ministers; I am confident no minister, how dear soever, can——"
Eliot was interrupted by Sir John Finch, the Speaker, who had for some time been more and more sidling away to the favour of the king, starting up and exclaiming, "There is a command laid upon me, to interrupt any that shall go about to lay an aspersion on the ministers of State." This was a clear infringement of the privilege of Parliament, which the House was not disposed to pass by. Sir John, thus snubbed, sat down, and there remained a significant silence for some minutes. Then Sir Dudley Digges rose and said, "Unless we may speak of these things, let us arise, and begone, or sit still and do nothing." There was another deep silence, at length broken by Sir Nathaniel Rich, who said, "We must now speak, or for ever hold our peace. For us to be silent when king and kingdom are in this calamity, is not fit. The question is, whether we shall secure ourselves by our silence—yea or no? Let us go to the Lords and show our dangers, that we may then go to the king together with our representation thereof." Prynne, Coke, and others, spoke to the same effect, and Coke was so overwhelmed with his feelings, grown old as he was, at the Bar, on the Bench and in the House, that he was obliged to resume his seat.
The House resolved itself into a committee for more freedom of discussion, and put Mr. Whitly into the chair. Finch, the Speaker, begged leave, as he was quitting the chair, for half an hour's absence. The House knew very well that he only wanted to run off and tell the king what was going on, but they let him go, and away he bustled to Whitehall. The House then passed an order, declaring that no man should leave the House under penalty of being committed to the Tower. Then Mr. Kirton rose, and declaring that the king in himself was as good a prince as ever reigned, said "it was high time to find out the enemies of the Commonwealth, who had so prevailed with him, and then he doubted not but God would send them hearts, hands, and swords, to cut all their throats." He added that the Speaker to desire to leave the House as he had done, was unprecedented, and to his mind ominous. Sir Edward Coke once more endeavoured to say what he had not been able to say before, but which must be said, and none so proper as this veteran statesman to say it. "I now see," he observed, "that God has not accepted our humble and moderate carriages and fair proceedings; and I fear the reason is that we have not dealt sincerely with the king, and made a true representation of the causes of all these miseries. Let us take this to heart. In the time of Edward III. had Parliament any doubt as to naming men that misled the king? They accused John of Gaunt, the king's son, Lord Latimer, and Lord Neville, for misadvising the king; and they went to the Tower for it. And now, when there is such a downfall of the State, shall we hold our tongues? Why," continued he, "may we not name those who are the cause of all our evils?" And he added, "Let us palliate no longer; if we do, God will not prosper us. I think the Duke of Buckingham is the cause, and till the duke be informed thereof, we shall never go out with honour, nor sit with honour here. That man is the grievance of grievances! Let us set down the causes of all our disasters, and they will all reflect upon him. As to going to the Lords, that is not via regia; our liberties are now impeached; we are deeply concerned; it is not via regia, for the Lords are not participant with our liberties. It is not the king but the duke that saith, 'We require you not to meddle with state affairs, or the ministers thereof.' Did not his majesty, when prince, attend the Upper House in our prosecution of Lord Chancellor Bacon and the Lord Treasurer Middlesex?"
The secret was out; the word was spoken! The name at which Charles and the duke had trembled, lest it should come into discussion, was, in spite of threats and messages, named; and the naming, and the charging with all the disgraces and miseries of the nation, were received with sudden and general acclamation of "Yea! yea! 'Tis he! 'tis he!" The day was come that James had so solemnly warned both Charles and Buckingham of—when they should have their bellyful of impeachments; having, as Coke now reminded them, themselves set the ball rolling. Aldred, in the letter just quoted, says:—"As when one good hound recovers the scent, the rest come in with full cry, so one pursued it, and every one came home and laid the blame where he thought the fault was, on the Duke of Buckingham, to wit." The duke was speedily accused of treachery and incapacity, both as High Admiral and Commander-in-Chief. All the disgraceful failures, at Cadiz, at La Rochelle, on the Isle of Rhé, and even in Germany, were charged upon his evil counsels or worse management.
Selden proposed a declaration to his majesty under four heads, expressive of the dutiful devotion of the House, of the violation of the nation's liberties, of the intentions of the House, and of the interference of the duke to prevent inquiry. He declared that all this time they had been casting a mantle over the accusation made against Buckingham, and that it was time to revert to that. "At this moment," says Aldred, "as we were putting the question, the Speaker, having been, not half an hour, but three hours absent, and with the king, returned, bringing this message—that the House should then rise—being about eleven o'clock—adjourn till the morrow morning, and no committees to sit, or other business to go on in the interim."
The next day the House met, when Finch apologised for his absence, and his going to the king, declaring that he had communicated nothing but what was to the honour of the House; and wishing that his tongue might cleave to the roof of his mouth before he spoke a word to the disparagement of any member. He informed them that his majesty had no desire to fetter their deliberations, so that they did not interfere with his ministers, and added words of courtesy from the king. The Commons observed that they had no intention of charging anything on the king, but must insist on inquiring when necessary into the conduct of his ministers; and the words of Mr. Kirton being found fault with, which intimated a hope that all those found guilty might have their throats cut, the House resolved that "he had said nothing beyond the bounds of duty and allegiance, and that they all concurred with him therein."
On the following day they went into committee, and commenced their labours of inquiry into the proceedings of the executive. They examined Burlemachi, a foreign speculator, as to a commission which he was alleged to have, for engaging and bringing into this kingdom troops of German horse. He confessed to such warrant, and to having received thirty thousand pounds for this purpose; one thousand of these horse being, as he admitted, already raised and armed, and waiting their passage in Holland. "And the intention of bringing over these mercenaries," said one of the members, "is to cut our throats, or to keep us in obedience!" Another member declared that twelve of the commanders were already arrived, and had been seen in St. Paul's. The House next fell upon a new scheme of excise, which it was proposed to levy without consent of Parliament, and voted that any member who had any information regarding this new imposition and did not disclose it, was an enemy to the State, and no true Englishman.