James began to embark on his last fatal measures of arbitrary power in the spring of 1688. Without calling or consulting a Parliament, he determined to issue on his own authority a "Declaration of Indulgence," which was to suspend all laws that were directed against Romanists. To partly cloak his plan, he added that the Declaration was also to free the Protestant Dissenters from the penal code of 1664-5. Toleration in itself is good, but toleration imposed by an autocratic and illegal mandate is a suspicious boon. The Dissenters themselves repudiated the gift, when given from such doubtful hands. To show his complete mastery over the Church of England, James ordered that the Declaration should be publicly read from the pulpit by every beneficed minister in the land.
The trial of the seven bishops.
This command provoked even the loyal Tories to resistance. When the appointed day came round, the clergy, almost without exception, refused to read the Declaration. The archbishop, William Sancroft, and six of his suffragans, [45] addressed a petition to the king begging that they might be excused from having to issue such a document. James was furious, and in his rage declared his intention of putting the bishops on trial for publishing a seditious libel—a most absurd description of their modestly worded plea. The seven prelates were arrested and sent as prisoners to the Tower. A month later they were brought before the Court of King's Bench. The whole nation was in agony as to their fate, but the preposterous nature of the prosecution abashed even the king's subservient judges. The charge was pressed in a half-hearted way, and the jury returned a verdict of "Not guilty." James's vexation at this acquittal was only surpassed by his outburst of wrath when he saw the universal demonstration of joy with which the news was received. Even his own soldiery in the camp at Hounslow lighted bonfires to celebrate the event.
Birth of "the Old Pretender."
In the very month of the acquittal of the seven bishops, an event happened which profoundly affected the king's prospects. His young second wife, Mary of Modena, bore him a son, the prince afterwards known as "the Old Pretender" (June 10, 1688). The birth of this child gave the king a Romanist heir, and cut the Princess of Orange out of the succession to the throne. This unexpected news filled England with dismay; it was evident that the king's schemes were no longer to be terminated with his own life; a dynasty of Romanists loomed on the horizon. In their wrath many men asserted that the child was supposititious, a changeling foisted on the nation by the king's malice. This groundless tale received much credit, for anything was believed possible in such a bigot as James.
Invitation to William of Orange.
The birth of the Prince of Wales was immediately followed by the formation of a serious conspiracy to overthrow the king. The Tories forgot their loyalty and joined the Whigs. The first sketch of the plot was drawn up by the old Tory minister, Danby, in conjunction with the Earl of Devonshire, the chief of the Whigs, and Henry Sydney and Edward Russell, the kinsmen of the two Whig leaders of those names who had been beheaded by Charles II. in 1683. Their plan was to call over to England the Princess Mary and her husband the Prince of Orange, and set them up against the king. William of Orange, the champion of Protestantism on the continent, and the deadly foe of James's ally, the King of France, was known to be ready to strike any blow that would bring England over to his side. He had long been in secret communication with many leading men among the Whigs, and welcomed the appearance of a definite invitation with joy. On receiving satisfactory assurances of support, he consented to raise every man that he could put into the field, and to cross to England.
James at first received the news of suspicious warlike preparations in Holland with indifference. He relied on the fact that William was at war with France, and reasoned that while the Low Countries were threatened by French troops, his son-in-law would never dare to leave his own country unprotected and invade England. But the French king was more set on an invasion of Germany than on the conquest of Holland, and when Lewis sent his armies across the Upper Rhine, William was left unwatched, and was able to make his preparations at leisure. Many Englishmen of mark, Tories as well as Whigs, slipped over to join him, and bade him strike as quickly as possible. Though the storms of autumn were already raging, the Prince set sail from Helvoetsluys on the 2nd of November, and steered down the Channel, with fifty men-of-war, and transports carrying some 13,000 men.
James had a much larger force garrisoning the south of England. Combining his regular army with a number of newly raised regiments of Irish Romanists, he had quite 40,000 men under arms. But he soon discovered that the temper of the greater part of them was very bad; except the numerous Catholic officers to whom he had given commissions, there was hardly a man who could be trusted.