Constitutional History of England, Henry VII to George II. Volume 2 of 3

by Henry Hallam

The spirit of ecclesiastical, rather than civil, democracy, was the first sign of the approaching storm that alarmed the Hertfords and Southamptons, the Hydes and Falklands. Attached to the venerable church of the English reformation, they were loth to see the rashness of some prelates avenged by her subversion, or a few recent innovations repressed by incomparably more essential changes. Full of regard for established law, and disliking the puritan bitterness, aggravated as it was by long persecution, they revolted from the indecent devastation committed in churches by the populace, and from the insults which now fell on the conforming ministers. The Lords early distinguished their temper as to those points by an order on the 16th of January for the performance of divine service according to law, in consequence of the tumults that had been caused by the heated puritans under pretence of abolishing innovations. Little regard was shown to this order;[198] but it does not appear that the Commons went farther on the opposite side than to direct some ceremonial novelties to be discontinued, and to empower one of their members, Sir Robert Harley, to take away all pictures, crosses, and superstitious figures within churches or without.[199] But this order, like many of their other acts, was a manifest encroachment on the executive power of the Crown.[200]

Schism in the constitutional party.—It seems to have been about the time of the summer recess, during the king's absence in Scotland, that the apprehension of changes in church and state far beyond what had been dreamed of at the opening of parliament, led to a final schism in the constitutional party.[201] Charles, by abandoning his former advisers, and yielding, with just as much reluctance as displayed the value of the concession, to a series of laws that abridged his prerogative, had recovered a good deal of the affection and confidence of some, and gained from others that sympathy which is seldom withheld from undeserving princes in their humiliation. Though the ill-timed death of the Earl of Bedford in May had partly disappointed an intended arrangement for bringing the popular leaders into office, yet the appointments of Essex, Holland, Say, and St. John from that party were apparently pledges of the king's willingness to select his advisers from their ranks; whatever cause there might be to suspect that their real influence over him would be too inconsiderable.[202] Those who were still excluded, and who distrusted the king's intentions as well towards themselves as the public cause, of whom Pym and Hampden, with the assistance of St. John, though actually solicitor-general, were the chief, found no better means of keeping alive the animosity that was beginning to subside, than by framing the Remonstrance on the state of the kingdom, presented to the king in November 1641. This being a recapitulation of all the grievances and misgovernment that had existed since his accession, which his acquiescence in so many measures of redress ought, according to the common courtesy due to sovereigns, to have cancelled, was hardly capable of answering any other purpose than that of re-animating discontents almost appeased, and guarding the people against the confidence they were beginning to place in the king's sincerity. The promoters of it might also hope from Charles's proud and hasty temper that he would reply in such a tone as would more exasperate the Commons. But he had begun to use the advice of judicious men, Falkland, Hyde, and Colepepper, and reined in his natural violence so as to give his enemies no advantage over him.

The jealousy, which nations ought never to lay aside, was especially required towards Charles, whose love of arbitrary dominion was much better proved than his sincerity in relinquishing it. But if he were intended to reign at all, and to reign with any portion either of the prerogatives of an English king, or the respect claimed by every sovereign, the Remonstrance of the Commons could but prolong an irritation incompatible with public tranquillity. It admits indeed of no question, that the schemes of Pym, Hampden, and St. John, already tended to restrain the king's personal exercise of any effective power, from a sincere persuasion that no confidence could ever be placed in him, though not to abolish the monarchy, or probably to abridge in the same degree the rights of his successor. Their Remonstrance was put forward to stem the returning tide of loyalty, which not only threatened to obstruct the further progress of their endeavours, but, as they would allege, might, by gaining strength, wash away some at least of the bulwarks that had been so recently constructed for the preservation of liberty. It was carried in a full house by the small majority of 159 to 148.[203] So much was it deemed a trial of strength, that Cromwell declared after the division that, had the question been lost, he would have sold his estate, and retired to America.

Suspicions of the king's sincerity.—It may be thought rather surprising that, with a House of Commons so nearly balanced as they appeared on this vote, the king should have new demands that annihilated his authority made upon him, and have found a greater majority than had voted the Remonstrance ready to oppose him by arms; especially as that paper contained little but what was true, and might rather be censured as an ill-timed provocation than an encroachment on the constitutional prerogative. But there were circumstances, both of infelicity and misconduct, which aggravated that distrust whereon every measure hostile to him was grounded. His imprudent connivance at popery, and the far more reprehensible encouragement given to it by his court, had sunk deep in the hearts of his people. His ill-wishers knew how to irritate the characteristic sensibility of the English on this topic. The queen, unpopular on the score of her imputed arbitrary counsels, was odious as a maintainer of idolatry.[204] The lenity shown to convicted popish priests, who, though liable to capital punishment, had been suffered to escape with sometimes a very short imprisonment, was naturally (according to the maxims of those times) treated as a grievance by the Commons, who petitioned for the execution of one Goodman and others in similar circumstances, perhaps in the hope that the king would attempt to shelter them. But he dexterously left it to the house whether they should die or not; and none of them actually suffered.[205] Rumours of pretended conspiracies by the catholics were perpetually in circulation, and rather unworthily encouraged by the chiefs of the Commons. More substantial motives for alarm appeared to arise from the obscure transaction in Scotland, commonly called the Incident, which looked so like a concerted design against the two great leaders of the constitutional party, Hamilton and Argyle, that it was not unnatural to anticipate something similar in England.[206] In the midst of these apprehensions, as if to justify every suspicion and every severity, burst out the Irish rebellion with its attendant massacre. Though nothing could be more unlikely in itself, or less supported by proof, than the king's connivance at this calamity, from which every man of common understanding could only expect, what actually resulted from it, a terrible aggravation of his difficulties, yet, with that distrustful temper of the English, and their jealous dread of popery, he was never able to conquer their suspicions that he had either instigated the rebellion, or was very little solicitous to suppress it; suspicions indeed, to which, however ungrounded at this particular period, some circumstances that took place afterwards gave an apparent confirmation.[207]

It was, perhaps, hardly practicable for the king, had he given less real excuse for it than he did, to lull that disquietude which so many causes operated to excite. The most circumspect discretion of a prince in such a difficult posture cannot restrain the rashness of eager adherents, or silence the murmurs of a discontented court. Those nearest Charles's person, and who always possessed too much of his confidence, were notoriously and naturally averse to the recent changes. Their threatening but idle speeches, and impotent denunciations of resentment, conveyed with malignant exaggeration among the populace, provoked those tumultuous assemblages, which afforded the king no bad pretext for withdrawing himself from a capital where his personal dignity was so little respected.[208] It is impossible, however, to deny that he gave by his own conduct no trifling reasons for suspicion, and last of all by the appointment of Lunsford to the government of the Tower; a choice for which, as it would never have been made from good motives, it was natural to seek the worst.[209] But the single false step which rendered his affairs irretrievable by anything short of civil war, and placed all reconciliation at an insuperable distance, was his attempt to seize the five members within the walls of the house; an evident violation, not of common privilege, but of all security for the independent existence of parliament in the mode of its execution, and leading to a very natural though perhaps mistaken surmise, that the charge itself of high treason made against these distinguished leaders, without communicating any of its grounds, had no other foundation than their parliamentary conduct. And we are in fact warranted by the authority of the queen herself to assert that their aim in this most secret enterprise was to strike terror into the parliament, and regain the power that had been wrested from their grasp.[210] It is unnecessary to dwell on a measure so well known, and which scarce any of the king's advocates have defended. The only material subject it affords for reflection is, how far the manifest hostility of Charles to the popular chiefs might justify them in rendering it harmless by wresting the sword out of his hands. No man doubtless has a right, for the sake only of his own security, to subvert his country's laws, or to plunge her into civil war. But Hampden, Hollis, and Pym might not absurdly consider the defence of English freedom bound up in their own, assailed as they were for its sake and by its enemies. It is observed by Clarendon that "Mr. Hampden was much altered after this accusation; his nature and courage seeming much fiercer than before." And it is certain that both he and Mr. Pym were not only most forward in all the proceedings which brought on the war, but among the most implacable opponents of all overtures towards reconciliation; so that although both dying in 1643, we cannot pronounce with absolute certainty as to their views, there can be little room to doubt that they would have adhered to the side of Cromwell and St. John, in the great separation of the parliamentary party.

The noble historian confesses that not Hampden alone, but the generality of those who were beginning to judge more favourably of the king, had their inclinations alienated by this fatal act of violence.[211] It is worthy of remark that each of the two most striking encroachments on the king's prerogative sprung directly from the suspicions roused of an intention to destroy their privileges: the bill perpetuating the parliament having been hastily passed on the discovery of Percy's and Jermyn's conspiracy, and the present attempt on the five members inducing the Commons to insist peremptorily on vesting the command of the militia in persons of their own nomination; a security, indeed, at which they had been less openly aiming from the time of that conspiracy, and particularly of late.[212] Every one knows that this was the grand question upon which the quarrel finally rested; but it may be satisfactory to show more precisely than our historians have generally done, what was meant by the power of the militia, and what was the exact ground of dispute in this respect between Charles I. and his parliament.

Historical sketch of the military force in England.—The military force which our ancient constitution had placed in the hands of its chief magistrate and those deriving authority from him, may be classed under two descriptions; one principally designed to maintain the king's and the nation's rights abroad, the other to protect them at home from attack or disturbance. The first comprehends the tenures by knight's service, which, according to the constant principles of a feudal monarchy, bound the owners of lands thus held from the Crown, to attend the king in war, within or without the realm, mounted and armed, during the regular term of service. Their own vassals were obliged by the same law to accompany them. But the feudal service was limited to forty days, beyond which time they could be retained only by their own consent, and at the king's expense. The military tenants were frequently called upon in expeditions against Scotland, and last of all in that of 1640; but the short duration of their legal service rendered it of course nearly useless in continental warfare. Even when they formed the battle, or line of heavy armed cavalry, it was necessary to complete the army by recruits of foot-soldiers, whom feudal tenure did not regularly supply, and whose importance was soon made sensible by their skill in our national weapon, the bow. What was the extent of the king's lawful prerogative for two centuries or more after the conquest as to compelling any of his subjects to serve him in foreign war, independently of the obligations of tenure, is a question scarcely to be answered; since, knowing so imperfectly the boundaries of constitutional law in that period, we have little to guide us but precedents; and precedents, in such times, are apt to be much more records of power than of right. We find certainly several instances under Edward I. and Edward II., sometimes of proclamations to the sheriffs, directing them to notify to all persons of sufficient estate that they must hold themselves ready to attend the king whenever he should call on them, sometimes of commissions to particular persons in different counties, who are enjoined to choose and array a competent number of horse and foot for the king's service.[213] But these levies being of course vexatious to the people, and contrary at least to the spirit of those immunities which, under the shadow of the great charter, they were entitled to enjoy, Edward III., on the petition of his first parliament, who judged that such compulsory service either was, or ought to be rendered illegal, passed a remarkable act, with the simple brevity of those times: "That no man from henceforth shall be charged to arm himself, otherwise than he was wont in the time of his progenitors the kings of England; and that no man be compelled to go out of his shire, but where necessity requireth, and sudden coming of strange enemies into the realm; and then it shall be done as hath been used in times past for the defence of the realm."[214]

This statute, by no means of inconsiderable importance in our constitutional history, put a stop for some ages to these arbitrary conscriptions. But Edward had recourse to another means of levying men without his own cost, by calling on the counties and principal towns to furnish a certain number of troops. Against this the parliament provided a remedy by an act in the 25th year of his reign: "That no man shall be constrained to find men at arms, hoblers, nor archers, other than those who hold by such service, if it be not by common consent and grant in parliament." Both these statutes were recited and confirmed in the fourth year of Henry IV.[215]

The successful resistance thus made by parliament appears to have produced the discontinuance of compulsory levies for foreign warfare. Edward III. and his successors, in their long contention with France, resorted to the mode of recruiting by contracts with men of high rank or military estimation, whose influence was greater probably than that of the Crown towards procuring voluntary enlistments. Their pay, as stipulated in such of those contracts as are extant, was extremely high; but it secured the service of a brave and vigorous yeomanry. Under the house of Tudor, in conformity to their more despotic scheme of government, the salutary enactments of former times came to be disregarded; Henry VIII. and Elizabeth sometimes compelling the counties to furnish soldiers: and the prerogative of pressing men for military service, even out of the kingdom, having not only become as much established as undisputed usage could make it, but acquiring no slight degree of sanction by an act passed under Philip and Mary, which, without repealing or adverting to the statutes of Edward III. and Henry IV., recognises, as it seems, the right of the Crown to levy men for service in war, and imposes penalties on persons absenting themselves from musters commanded by the king's authority to be held for that purpose.[216] Clarendon, whose political heresies sprang in a great measure from his possessing but a very imperfect knowledge of our ancient constitution, speaks of the act that declared the pressing of soldiers illegal, though exactly following, even in its language, that of Edward III., as contrary to the usage and custom of all times.

It is scarcely perhaps necessary to observe that there had never been any regular army kept up in England. Henry VII. established the yeomen of the guard in 1485, solely for the defence of his person, and rather perhaps, even at that time, to be considered as the king's domestic servants, than as soldiers. Their number was at first fifty, and seems never to have exceeded two hundred. A kind of regular troops, however, chiefly accustomed to the use of artillery, was maintained in the very few fortified places where it was thought necessary or practicable to keep up the show of defence; the Tower of London, Portsmouth, the castle of Dover, the fort of Tilbury, and, before the union of the crowns, Berwick and some other places on the Scottish border. I have met with very little as to the nature of these garrisons. But their whole number must have been insignificant, and probably at no time equal to resist any serious attack.