We must take care not to confound this strictly military force, serving, whether by virtue of tenure or engagement, wheresoever it should be called, with that of a more domestic and defensive character to which alone the name of militia was usually applied. By the Anglo-Saxon laws, or rather by one of the primary and indispensable conditions of political society, every freeholder, if not every freeman, was bound to defend his country against hostile invasion. It appears that the alderman or earl, while those titles continued to imply the government of a county, was the proper commander of this militia. Henry II., in order to render it more effective in cases of emergency, and perhaps with a view to extend its service, enacted, by consent of parliament, that every freeman, according to the value of his estate or movables, should hold himself constantly furnished with suitable arms and equipments.[217] By the statute of Winchester, in the 13th year of Edward I., these provisions were enforced and extended. Every man, between the ages of fifteen and sixty, was to be assessed, and sworn to keep armour according to the value of his lands and goods; for fifteen pounds and upwards in rent, or forty marks in goods, a hauberk, an iron breastplate, a sword, a knife, and a horse; for smaller property, less expensive arms. A view of this armour was to be taken twice in the year, by constables chosen in every hundred.[218] These regulations appear by the context of the whole statute to have more immediate regard to the preservation of internal peace, by suppressing tumults and arresting robbers, than to the actual defence of the realm against hostile invasion; a danger not at that time very imminent. The sheriff, as chief conservator of public peace and minister of the law, had always possessed the right of summoning the posse comitatûs; that is, of calling on all the king's liege subjects within his jurisdiction for assistance, in case of any rebellion or tumultuous rising, or when bands of robbers infested the public ways, or when, as occurred very frequently, the execution of legal process was forcibly obstructed. It seems to have been in the policy of that wise prince, to whom we are indebted for so many signal improvements in our law, to give a more effective and permanent energy to this power of the sheriff. The provisions, however, of the statute of Winton, so far as they obliged every proprietor to possess suitable arms, were of course applicable to national defence. In seasons of public danger, threatening invasion from the side of Scotland or France, it became customary to issue commissions of array, empowering those to whom they were addressed to muster and train all men capable of bearing arms in the counties to which their commission extended, and hold them in readiness to defend the kingdom. The earliest of these commissions that I find in Rymer is of 1324, and the latest of 1557.
The obligation of keeping sufficient arms according to each man's estate was preserved by a statute of Philip and Mary, which made some changes in the rate and proportion as well as the kind of arms.[219] But these ancient provisions were abrogated by James in his first parliament.[220] The nation, become for ever secure from invasion on the quarter where the militia service had been most required, and freed from the other dangers which had menaced the throne of Elizabeth, gladly saw itself released from an expensive obligation. The government again may be presumed to have thought that weapons of offence were safer in its hands than in those of its subjects. Magazines of arms were formed in different places, and generally in each county:[221] but, if we may reason from the absence of documents, there was little regard to military array and preparation; save that the citizens of London mustered their trained bands on holidays, an institution that is said to have sprung out of a voluntary association, called the artillery company, formed in the reign of Henry VIII. for the encouragement of archery, and acquiring a more respectable and martial character at the time of the Spanish armada.[222]
The power of calling into arms, and mustering the population of each county, given in earlier times to the sheriff or justices of the peace or to special commissioners of array, began to be entrusted, in the reign of Mary, to a new officer, entitled the lord lieutenant. This was usually a peer, or at least a gentleman of large estate within the county, whose office gave him the command of the militia, and rendered him the chief vicegerent of his sovereign, responsible for the maintenance of public order. This institution may be considered as a revival of the ancient local earldom; and it certainly took away from the sheriff a great part of the dignity and importance which he had acquired since the discontinuance of that office. Yet the lord lieutenant has so peculiarly military an authority, that it does not in any degree control the civil power of the sheriff as the executive minister of the law. In certain cases, such as a tumultuous obstruction of legal authority, each might be said to possess an equal power; the sheriff being still undoubtedly competent to call out the posse comitatûs in order to enforce obedience. Practically, however, in all serious circumstances, the lord lieutenant has always been reckoned the efficient and responsible guardian of public tranquillity.
From an attentive consideration of this sketch of our military law, it will strike the reader that the principal question to be determined was, whether, in time of peace, without pretext of danger of invasion, there were any legal authority that could direct the mustering and training to arms of the able-bodied men in each county, usually denominated the militia. If the power existed at all, it manifestly resided in the king. The notion that either or both houses of parliament, who possess no portion of executive authority, could take on themselves one of its most peculiar and important functions, was so preposterous that we can scarcely give credit to the sincerity of any reasonable person who advanced it. In the imminent peril of hostile invasion, in the case of intestine rebellion, there seems to be no room for doubt that the king who could call on his subjects to bear arms for their country and laws, could oblige them to that necessary discipline and previous training, without which their service would be unavailing. It might also be urged that he was the proper judge of the danger. But that, in a season of undeniable tranquillity, he could withdraw his subjects from their necessary labours against their consent, even for the important end of keeping up the use of military discipline, is what, with our present sense of the limitations of royal power it might be difficult to affirm. The precedents under Henry VIII. and Elizabeth were numerous; but not to mention that many, perhaps most of these, might come under the class of preparations against invasion, where the royal authority was not to be doubted, they could be no stronger than those other precedents for pressing and mustering soldiers, which had been declared illegal. There were at least so many points uncertain, and some wherein the prerogative was plainly deficient, such as the right of marching the militia out of their own counties, taken away, if it had before existed, by the act just passed against pressing soldiers, that the concurrence of the whole legislature seemed requisite to place so essential a matter as the public defence on a secure and permanent footing.[223]
Encroachments of the parliament.—The aim of the houses, however, in the bill for regulating the militia, presented to Charles in February 1642, and his refusal to pass which led by rapid steps to the civil war, was not so much to remove those uncertainties by a general provision (for in effect they left them much as before), as to place the command of the sword in the hands of those they could control;—nominating in the bill the lords lieutenant of every county, who were to obey the orders of the two houses, and to be irremovable by the king for two years. No one can pretend that this was not an encroachment on his prerogative.[224] It can only find a justification in the precarious condition, as the Commons asserted it to be, of those liberties they had so recently obtained, in their just persuasion of the king's insincerity, and in the demonstrations he had already made of an intention to win back his authority at the sword's point.[225] But it is equitable, on the other hand, to observe that the Commons had by no means greater reason to distrust the faith of Charles, than he had to anticipate fresh assaults from them on the power he had inherited, on the form of religion which alone he thought lawful, on the counsellors who had served him most faithfully, and on the nearest of his domestic ties. If the right of self-defence could be urged by parliament for this demand of the militia, must we not admit that a similar plea was equally valid for the king's refusal? However arbitrary and violent the previous government of Charles may have been, however disputable his sincerity at present, it is vain to deny, that he had made the most valuable concessions, and such as had cost him very dear. He had torn away from his diadem what all monarchs would deem its choicest jewel, that high attribute of uncontrollable power, by which their flatterers have in all ages told them they resemble and represent the Divinity. He had seen those whose counsels he had best approved, rewarded with exile or imprisonment, and had incurred the deep reproach of his own heart by the sacrifice of Strafford. He had just now given a reluctant assent to the extinction of one estate of parliament, by the bill excluding bishops from the house of peers. Even in this business of the militia, he would have consented to nominate the persons recommended to him as lieutenants, by commissions revocable at his pleasure; or would have passed the bill rendering them irremovable for one year, provided they might receive their orders from himself and the two houses jointly.[226] It was not unreasonable for the king to pause at the critical moment which was to make all future denial nugatory, and enquire whether the prevailing majority designed to leave him what they had not taken away. But he was not long kept in uncertainty upon this score. The nineteen propositions tendered to him at York in the beginning of June, and founded upon addresses and declarations of a considerably earlier date,[227] went to abrogate in spirit the whole existing constitution, and were in truth so far beyond what the king could be expected to grant, that terms, more intolerable were scarcely proposed to him in his greatest difficulties, not at Uxbridge, nor at Newcastle, nor even at Newport.
These famous propositions import that the privy council and officers of state should be approved by parliament, and take such an oath as the two houses should prescribe; that during the intervals of parliament, no vacancy in the council should be supplied without the assent of the major part, subject to the future sanction of the two houses; that the education and marriages of the king's children should be under parliamentary control; the votes of popish peers to be taken away; the church government and liturgy be reformed as both houses should advise; the militia and all fortified places put in such hands as parliament should approve; finally, that the king should pass a bill for restraining all peers to be made in future from sitting in parliament, unless they be admitted with the consent of both houses. A few more laudable provisions, such as that the judges should hold their offices during good behaviour, which the king had long since promised,[228] were mixed up with these strange demands. Even had the king complied with such unconstitutional requisitions, there was one behind, which, though they had not advanced it on this occasion, was not likely to be forgotten. It had been asserted by the House of Commons in their last remonstrance, that, on a right construction of the old coronation oath, the king was bound to assent to all bills which the two houses of parliament should offer.[229] It has been said by some that this was actually the constitution of Scotland, where the Crown possessed a counterbalancing influence; but such a doctrine was in this country as repugnant to the whole history of our laws, as it was incompatible with the subsistence of the monarchy in anything more than a nominal pre-eminence.
Discussion of the respective claims of the two parties to support.—In weighing the merits of this great contest, in judging whether a thoroughly upright and enlightened man would rather have listed under the royal or parliamentary standard, there are two political postulates, the concession of which we may require: one, that civil war is such a calamity as nothing but the most indispensable necessity can authorise any party to bring on; the other, that the mixed government of England by King, Lords, and Commons, was to be maintained in preference to any other form of polity. The first of these can hardly be disputed; and though the denial of the second would certainly involve no absurdity, yet it may justly be assumed where both parties avowed their adherence to it as a common principle. Such as prefer a despotic or a republican form of government will generally, without much further enquiry, have made their election between Charles the First and the parliament. We do not argue from the creed of the English constitution to those who have abandoned its communion.
Faults of both.—There was so much in the conduct and circumstances of both parties in the year 1642, to excite disapprobation and distrust, that a wise and good man could hardly unite cordially with either of them. On the one hand, he would entertain little doubt of the king's desire to overthrow by force or stratagem whatever had been effected in parliament, and to establish a plenary despotism; his arbitrary temper, his known principles of government, the natural sense of wounded pride and honour, the instigations of a haughty woman, the solicitations of favourites, the promises of ambitious men, were all at work to render his new position as a constitutional sovereign, even if unaccompanied by fresh indignities and encroachments, too grievous and mortifying to be endured. He had already tampered in a conspiracy to overawe, if not to disperse, the parliament; he had probably obtained large promises, though very little to be trusted, from several of the presbyterian leaders in Scotland during his residence there in the summer of 1641; he had attempted to recover his ascendancy by a sudden blow in the affair of the five members; he had sent the queen out of England, furnished with the Crown-jewels, for no other probable end than to raise men and procure arms in foreign countries;[230] he was now about to take the field with an army, composed in part of young gentlemen disdainful of a puritan faction that censured their licence, and of those soldiers of fortune, reckless of public principle, and averse to civil control, whom the war in Germany had trained, and partly of the catholics, a wealthy and active body devoted to the Crown, from which alone they had experienced justice or humanity, and from whose favour and gratitude they now expected the most splendid returns. Upon neither of these parties could a lover of his country and her liberties look without alarm; and though he might derive more hope from those better spirits who had withstood the prerogative in its exorbitance, as they now sustained it in its decline, yet it could not be easy to foretell that they would preserve sufficient influence to keep steady the balance of power, in the contingency of any decisive success of the royal arms.
But, on the other hand, the House of Commons presented still less favourable prospects. We should not indeed judge over severely some acts of a virtuous indignation in the first moments of victory,[231] or those heats of debate, without some excesses of which a popular assembly is in danger of falling into the opposite extreme of phlegmatic security. But, after every allowance has been made, he must bring very heated passions to the records of those times, who does not perceive in the conduct of that body a series of glaring violations, not only of positive and constitutional, but of those higher principles which are paramount to all immediate policy. Witness the ordinance for disarming recusants passed by both houses in August 1641, and that in November, authorising the Earl of Leicester to raise men for the defence of Ireland without warrant under the great seal; both manifest encroachments on the executive power;[232] and the enormous extension of privilege, under which every person accused on the slightest testimony of disparaging their proceedings, or even of introducing new-fangled ceremonies in the church, a matter wholly out of their cognisance, was dragged before them as a delinquent, and lodged in their prison.[233] Witness the outrageous attempts to intimidate the minority of their own body in the commitment of Mr. Palmer, and afterwards of Sir Ralph Hopton, to the Tower, for such language used in debate as would not have excited any observation in ordinary times;—their continual encroachments on the rights and privileges of the Lords, as in their intimation that, if bills thought by them necessary for the public good should fall in the upper house, they must join with the minority of the Lords in representing the same to the king;[234] or in the impeachment of the Duke of Richmond for words, and those of the most trifling nature, spoken in the upper house;[235]—their despotic violation of the rights of the people, in imprisoning those who presented or prepared respectful petitions in behalf of the established constitution,[236] while they encouraged those of a tumultuous multitude at their bar in favour of innovation;[237]—their usurpation at once of the judicial and legislative powers in all that related to the church, particularly by their committee for scandalous ministers, under which denomination, adding reproach to injury, they subjected all who did not reach the standard of puritan perfection to contumely and vexation, and ultimately to expulsion from their lawful property.[238] Witness the impeachment of the twelve bishops for treason, on account of their protestation against all that should be done in the House of Lords during their compelled absence through fear of the populace; a protest not perhaps entirely well expressed, but abundantly justifiable in its argument by the plainest principles of law.[239] These great abuses of power, becoming daily more frequent, as they became less excusable, would make a sober man hesitate to support them in a civil war, wherein their success must not only consummate the destruction of the Crown, the church, and the peerage, but expose all who had dissented from their proceedings, as it ultimately happened, to an oppression less severe perhaps, but far more sweeping, than that which had rendered the star-chamber odious.