A Popular History of England, From the Earliest Times to the Reign of Queen Victoria; Vol. III

by François Guizot

The leaders of the Commons were not much more eager than the king to stamp out the Irish insurrection. It furnished them with the popular agitation and general uneasiness of which they stood in need in order to continue their work. They eagerly took possession of the power which the king offered them; but their efforts against the Irish insurgents were more ostentatious than sincere, and more noisy than efficacious. The Protestants of Ireland were left in the hands of their enemies. All speeches and acts were directed towards England; the moment for striking the great blow had come.

Shortly after the opening of Parliament, in the month of November, 1640, a committee was chosen to prepare, with an exposition of grievances, a solemn remonstrance to the king; but political reforms had been so rapid, and the king had so completely given way before the growing power of Parliament, that the majority of the grievances had in reality disappeared, when, on the morrow of the insurrection of Ireland, amidst the popular excitement, the committee received orders to resume and complete its work without delay. The remonstrance but lately intended for the king became a sombre exposition addressed to the people, retracing all the past evils, and all those which yet subsisted, the wrong-doings of the king, the virtues of Parliament, and the dangers which faith and liberty incurred as long as the nation should not be unreservedly devoted to the House of Commons, which was alone capable of saving them from Popery, the bishops, and the king.

So much violence, without fresh pretexts, or any direct or apparent aim, raised numerous murmurs. The ever-growing pretensions of Parliament began to create, even in its midst, a party of resistance, favorable, in a certain measure, to the threatened royal power. The popular chiefs endeavored to quiet the distrust and exasperation, asserting that they only wished to intimidate the court and to thwart its intrigues, and that the remonstrance being once adopted it would not be promulgated. They asked for the vote towards the end of a sitting, at the moment when the House, being fatigued, was thinking of separating. Lord Falkland, Hyde, Colepepper—the friends of the king, as they were called—demanded that there should be a postponement until the morrow. "Why," said Cromwell to Falkland, "do you so greatly desire this delay?" "Because it is too late to-day, and because there will certainly be a debate." "A light debate," replied Cromwell impassively. The discussion began on the morrow; sides were taken. For the first time two national parties were at contention. It was no longer the court and the country; the good citizens were divided; both sides found support in public interests and opinions. There were discussions; there was vehement speaking. Hour after hour passed by; the sitting had opened at three o'clock; it was midnight. The delicate or ailing members, and the old men had all retired. "This," said Sir Benjamin Rudyard, "will be the verdict of a famished jury." When the vote was taken, a hundred and fifty-nine members adopted the remonstrance, against a hundred and forty-eight who voted against it.

The result had scarcely been announced when Hampden rose and demanded that the remonstrance should be printed. "We said so," it was exclaimed on the other side, "you wish to take from the Lords their legitimate share of authority; you desire to walk alone and arouse the people to insurrection." "I protest, I protest," exclaimed Mr. Palmer, and his friends followed his example. Protests were usual in the House of Lords; they were not in the Commons. Indignation was felt at this new proceeding, and the disturbance increased; several members had already placed their hands upon their swords. Hampden addressed the House, deploring the sad disorder, and proposing to adjourn the discussion to the morrow. This was agreed to. "Well," said Lord Falkland to Cromwell, on leaving, "has it been debated?" "I will take your word another time," replied Cromwell, and he added in a lower tone: "If the remonstrance had been rejected, I would have sold all I have the next morning, and never would have seen England more, and I know there are many honest men of the same resolution." The printing of the remonstrance was voted on the morrow without any disturbance, almost without discussion, by a majority of twenty-three. The return of the king, to whom it was first to be presented, was the only event waited for in order to publish it.

He arrived, and was magnificently received by the city of London, the new lord mayor, Richard Gourney, being devoted to him. Already confident in the movement which manifested itself in his favor, he allowed his new hopes to be revealed at the first moment, by withdrawing from the Commons the guard which the Earl of Essex had given to them for their safety in his absence.

The remonstrance was immediately presented to Charles; he listened patiently to the reading of it. "Does the House intend to publish this declaration?" he asked. "We are not authorized to answer the questions of your Majesty." "Well, I suppose you do not either expect my reply at once; I will send it to you as soon as the importance of the affair will allow." The leaders of the Commons did not wait for the royal reply before proposing to the Houses what were no longer reforms, but innovations. A bill relating to the pressing of soldiers, another to the militia, a third excluding the clergy, of whatever grade they might be, from all civil offices, were presented and adopted in a few days by the Lower House. The remonstrance was published on the 14th of December. Popular ardor, from day to day more impassioned, corresponded with the new attitude of the leaders of the opposition. The aspect of affairs was undergoing a change; to the unanimous movement of the nation succeeded the strife of parties; to reform, revolution. Parliament asked to have its guard back again; but the multitude which thronged around Westminster, the committees formed in all places for the defence of liberty and the faith, represented a militia more formidable than all the soldiers, all busy in proclaiming with loud voice the common danger.

The king did not stand alone before this bold and persevering effort of the popular reformers. Among the most esteemed members of the House of Commons who had fought against tyranny, a certain number, and these of the best, were brought back to the crown by the dread of innovations and excesses. Charles resolved to secure the attachment of the chiefs of this growing royalist party—Mr. Hyde, Sir John Colepepper, and Lord Falkland. The latter did not please him; he had little esteem for the king, and a great effort of his friends was necessary in order to induce him to enter publicly into his service. He allowed himself to be overcome by the solicitations of Charles himself, constrained by necessity; but when he accepted the office of secretary of state, it was with a profound sense of discouragement and as a victim to a devotion without affection and without hope. These three friends undertook the difficult task of directing the affairs of the king in the House, and the former promised to attempt nothing without their advice.

Charles could no more keep his word with his friends than with his enemies. He drew courage from the adhesion of the gentlemen attached by tradition to the throne, who arrived with clamor from their counties to offer to the king their service. Every day struggles took place in the streets, and particularly around Westminster, between the partisans of the king—the "cavaliers" as they were called, and the "roundheads," a name which the cavaliers themselves gave to the citizens, on account of the contrast which the short hair of the Puritans presented to the long ringlets of the gentlemen. The bill for the exclusion of the bishops, still in suspension in the Upper House, was the special cause of outbreaks. The bishops every day ran the risk of their lives in going and taking their seats, and they were obliged in order to leave Westminster, to hide themselves in the carriages of some popular noblemen. The House of Commons did not reply to the complaints of the Lords against the disturbance excited at its doors: "We need all our friends," said the leaders; "God forbid that we should prevent the people obtaining thereby that which they are right in desiring." At the same time the Commons decreed that as the king persisted in refusing their guard, each of the members was entitled to bring an armed servant and to keep him at the door. Blood was shed incessantly around Westminster Palace.