This declaration was received with applause. Already the courtiers of Charles II. seemed to have lost the royal favor. James II., though as debauched as his brother, did not affect his license of conduct. "The appearance of the court changed immediately," wrote Evelyn; "the aspect is more grave and moral, the new king likes neither buffoons nor scoffers." Parliament was convoked for the 15th of May.
The elections assured to the Tories an overwhelming majority. "There are not more than forty members of the House of Commons that I have not chosen myself," said the king. At the opening of the session he repeated the promises he had already made before the council; a word only betrayed the absolute temper of the new monarch; in demanding that they accord him a fixed revenue for life, as they had done to the king, his brother, he added, "They may say to you that the best means of securing the frequent assembling of Parliament will be to allow me means only according to your will, and as you may think suitable; speaking today from the throne, I respond, once for all, to this argument. This will be a bad plan to adopt with me; the best means of securing frequent assemblings is to treat me well." Parliament voted the subsidies demanded. Already James II. had performed an act of absolute power in continuing to collect the custom duties, but recently accorded by the Houses to Charles II. for life. Even the Whigs did not protest; they trusted to the sincerity of the king. "We have for the protection of our church the promise of a king," said a zealous preacher, "and of a king who never belied his word." So soon were forgotten the perfidy and faithlessness of the House of Stuart, of which James II. was soon to show himself a worthy son.
Already some disquieting symptoms began to alarm the far-seeing politicians. The king had thrown open the doors of his private chapel, establishing thus at the outset his right of hearing mass publicly. When Holy Week arrived and the services multiplied, James required the most considerable personages of his household to assist him in the ceremonies of his worship. Lord Godolphin, who was a member of the queen's household, and accustomed to accompanying her to the chapel, made no resistance. Lord Rochester, although corrupt and arrogant, had nevertheless been educated by his father, Lord Clarendon, to show a profound respect for the Anglican Church; he refused to follow the king to mass and obtained permission to retire to the country during Easter. The Dukes of Ormond and Halifax remained in the ante-chamber. The Duke of Norfolk, recently appointed to carry the sword of the crown before the king, stopped at the door of the chapel. "Your father would have gone farther, my lord," said James. "Yours, who valued mine much, would not have come so far. Sire," responded the duke. The religious pomps of the coronation, celebrated after the Protestant ritual, did not suffice to reassure their minds. Some remarked that the crown was too large for the head of the king, and was also badly placed upon his head. The supports of the dais gave way. Superstition, united to forebodings of evil, began to awaken in the public the first germs of an increasing restlessness.
It was nevertheless with a true though confused sincerity that king James had promised religious liberty to his people. In his desire to protect the English Church and to allow freedom to the persecuted Dissenters, James II. had first in view the relief of the Catholics, so long and so cruelly oppressed. This was precisely what the Church and the Nonconformists equally feared. One of the first acts of the king was to open the doors of the prisons to all those who were detained by questions of conscience. Scarcely had Parliament assembled when a bill was presented begging of the crown the rigid enforcement of the laws against all Dissenters, whoever they might be. James opposed this measure, which would impose persecution on the Catholics; the motion was modified. "The House trusts to the oft-repeated promises of his Majesty to sustain and defend the religion of the Church of England as established by law, which is more dear to us than life." The king made no reply to this address; the persecution of the Scotch Puritans was the only favor that he granted.
The Scotch Parliament surpassed the English in submission and zeal. The resources of the hereditary kingdom of the Stuarts were limited; to the small subsidies which they were able to grant, the Scotch Parliament added a decree which they believed would satisfy King James: any preacher in a private meeting, any preacher or auditor in a public assembly was to be from this fact alone liable to the penalty of death. Persecution was redoubled. Graham of Claverhouse overran the country at the head of his dragoons, dispersing assemblies and seizing, even in their homes, suspected persons. A poor carter of the county of Lanark was shot down in the presence of his wife, who clasped her terrified children in her arms. The fervent prayers of the victim already troubled and alarmed Claverhouse. "The day will come when you will have to render an account of this to God and to men," cried the unhappy widow. "I will know well how to account for my actions to men," replied the madman, "and as for God, I challenge him."
Men and women died with equal courage. A young girl was fastened to a post in the sea and left for the rising tide to engulf. "Abjure, abjure!" they cried to her. "Leave me in peace," responded she; "I belong to Jesus Christ." The waves swept over her.
The rigors exercised against the Scotch Presbyterians were not, however, prejudicial to the king's cause. In England the idea of liberty of conscience sometimes struck the persecuted. James himself had been impressed by it when he suffered the penalties imposed upon those of the Catholic faith. Having acquired power, he soon forgot the sublime principle, and his people likewise ignored it. The composition of his council, the want of favor that he manifested towards certain popular men, the confidence that he placed in others disliked by the people, occupied the public mind more seriously than the sufferings of a few Covenanters revolted from the Episcopal yoke. On ascending the throne, James II. had openly announced his intention of maintaining near his person all the councillors of his brother; only a small number, however, were his friends. They soon perceived this. Sunderland and Godolphin had lately voted for the bill of exclusion that Halifax had defeated by the force of his eloquence. These two ministers nevertheless were less suspected by James than the brilliant chief of the Trimmers.
Irrevocably enrolled against the Papacy and tyranny, Halifax was received by the king with flattering words. "I remember but a single day in your life, my lord," said James; "it is that on which you spoke against the Exclusion Bill." He said at the same time to Barillon: "I know him; I cannot trust him. He shall not employ his hand in public affairs."
Halifax soon succeeded, as president of the council, Lord Rochester, who was placed at the head of the finances. The latter alone shared with the Judge, Jeffreys, the confidence of the king. His eldest brother, Lord Clarendon, replaced in Ireland the old Duke of Ormond, a veteran of devotion to monarchy, honored by all, too sincere in his Protestantism, too independent of character, to please the government and serve the views of King James. When he learned of his disgrace, the old servitor of Charles I. gathered around him at a banquet all the officers of the garrison at Dublin. He drank the health of the king, raising with a firm hand his glass filled to the very brim. "I have not spilled a single drop, gentlemen; my heart is as firm as my hand, still they accuse me at court of having fallen into my dotage. Long live King James!" His return to London resembled a triumph; a crowd of gentlemen claimed the honor of escorting him.