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

by Henry Hallam

This endeavour to violate the legal rights of electors as well as to take away other vested franchises, by new modelling corporations through commissions granted to regulators, was the most capital delinquency of the king's government; because it tended to preclude any reparation for the rest, and directly attacked the fundamental constitution of the state.[119] But, like all his other measures, it displayed not more ill-will to the liberties of the nation than inability to overthrow them. The catholics were so small a body, and so weak, especially in corporate towns, that the whole effect produced by the regulators was to place municipal power and trust in the hands of the nonconformists, those precarious and unfaithful allies of the court, whose resentment of past oppression, hereditary attachment to popular principles of government, and inveterate abhorrence of popery, were not to be effaced by an unnatural coalition. Hence, though they availed themselves, and surely without reproach, of the toleration held out to them, and even took the benefit of the scheme of regulation, so as to fill the corporation of London and many others, they were, as is confessed above, too much of Englishmen and protestants for the purposes of the court. The wiser part of the churchmen made secret overtures to their party; and by assurances of a toleration, if not also of a comprehension within the Anglican pale, won them over to a hearty concurrence in the great project that was on foot.[120] The king found it necessary to descend so much from the haughty attitude he had taken at the outset of his reign, as personally to solicit men of rank and local influence for their votes on the two great measures of repealing the test and penal laws. The country gentlemen, in their different counties, were tried with circular questions, whether they would comply with the king in their elections, or, if themselves chosen, in parliament. Those who refused such a promise were erased from the lists of justices and deputy-lieutenants.[121] Yet his biographer admits that he received little encouragement to proceed in the experiment of a parliament;[122] and it is said by the French ambassador that evasive answers were returned to these questions, with such uniformity of expression as indicated an alarming degree of concert.[123]

Affair of Magdalen College.—It is unnecessary to dwell on circumstances so well known as the expulsion of the fellows of Magdalen College.[124] It was less extensively mischievous than the new-modelling of corporations, but perhaps a more glaring act of despotism. For though the Crown had been accustomed from the time of the reformation to send very peremptory commands to ecclesiastical foundations, and even to dispense with their statutes at discretion, with so little resistance that few seemed to doubt of its prerogative; though Elizabeth would probably have treated the fellows of any college much in the same manner as James II., if they had proceeded to an election in defiance of her recommendation; yet the right was not the less clearly theirs, and the struggles of a century would have been thrown away, if James II. was to govern as the Tudors, or even as his father and grandfather had done before him. And though Parker, Bishop of Oxford, the first president whom the ecclesiastical commissioners obtruded on the college, was still nominally a protestant,[125] his successor Gifford was an avowed member of the church of Rome. The college was filled with persons of the same persuasion; mass was said in the chapel, and the established religion was excluded with a degree of open force which entirely took away all security for its preservation in any other place. This latter act, especially, of the Magdalen drama, in a still greater degree than the nomination of Massey to the deanery of Christ Church, seems a decisive proof that the king's repeated promises of contenting himself with a toleration of his own religion would have yielded to his insuperable bigotry and the zeal of his confessor. We may perhaps add to these encroachments upon the act of uniformity, the design imputed to him of conferring the archbishopric of York on Father Petre; yet there would have been difficulties that seem insurmountable in the way of this, since the validity of Anglican orders not being acknowledged by the church of Rome, Petre would not have sought consecration at the hands of Sancroft; nor, had he done so, would the latter have conferred it on him, even if the chapter of York had gone through the indispensable form of an election.[126]

The infatuated monarch was irritated by that which he should have taken as a terrible warning, this resistance to his will from the university of Oxford. That sanctuary of pure unspotted loyalty, as some would say, that sink of all that was most abject in servility, as less courtly tongues might murmur, the university of Oxford, which had but four short years back, by a solemn decree in convocation, poured forth anathemas on all who had doubted the divine right of monarchy, or asserted the privileges of subjects against their sovereigns, which had boasted in its addresses of an obedience without any restrictions or limitations, which but recently had seen a known convert to popery, and a person disqualified in other ways, installed by the chapter without any remonstrance in the deanery of Christ Church, was now the scene of a firm though temperate opposition to the king's positive command, and soon after the willing instrument of his ruin. In vain the pamphleteers, on the side of the court, upbraided the clergy with their apostacy from the principles they had so much vaunted. The imputation it was hard to repel; but, if they could not retract their course without shame, they could not continue in it without destruction.[127] They were driven to extremity by the order of May 4, 1688, to read the declaration of indulgence in their churches.[128] This, as is well known, met with great resistance, and, by inducing the primate and six other bishops to present a petition to the king against it, brought on that famous persecution, which, more perhaps than all his former actions, cost him the allegiance of the Anglican church. The proceedings upon the trial of those prelates are so familiar as to require no particular notice.[129] What is most worthy of remark is, that the very party who had most extolled the royal prerogative, and often in such terms as if all limitations of it were only to subsist at pleasure, became now the instruments of bringing it down within the compass and control of the law. If the king had a right to suspend the execution of statutes by proclamation, the bishops' petition might not indeed be libellous, but their disobedience and that of the clergy could not be warranted; and the principal argument both of the bar and the bench rested on the great question of that prerogative.

The king, meantime, was blindly hurrying on at the instigation of his own pride and bigotry, and of some ignorant priests, confident in the fancied obedience of the church, and in the hollow support of the dissenters; after all his wiser counsellors, the catholic peers, the nuncio, perhaps the queen herself, had grown sensible of the danger, and solicitous for temporising measures. He had good reason to perceive that neither the fleet nor the army could be relied upon; to cashier the most rigidly protestant officers, to draft Irish troops into the regiments, to place all important commands in the hands of catholics, were difficult and even desperate measures, which rendered his designs more notorious, without rendering them more feasible. It is among the most astonishing parts of this unhappy sovereign's impolicy, that he sometimes neglected, even offended, never steadily and sufficiently courted, the sole ally that could by possibility have co-operated in his scheme of government. In his brother's reign, James had been the most obsequious and unhesitating servant of the French king. Before his own accession, his first step was to implore, through Barillon, a continuance of that support and protection, without which he could undertake nothing which he had designed in favour of the catholics. He received a present of 500,000 livres with tears of gratitude; and telling the ambassador he had not disclosed his real designs to his ministers, pressed for a strict alliance with Louis, as the means of accomplishing them.[130] Yet with a strange inconsistency, he drew off gradually from these professions, and not only kept on rather cool terms with France during part of his reign, but sometimes played a double game by treating of a league with Spain.

James's coldness towards Louis.—The secret of this uncertain policy, which has not been well known till very lately, is to be found in the king's character. James had a real sense of the dignity pertaining to a king of England, and much of the national pride as well as that of his rank. He felt the degradation of importuning an equal sovereign for money, which Louis gave less frequently and in smaller measure than it was demanded. It is natural for a proud man not to love those before whom he has abased himself. James, of frugal habits and master of a great revenue, soon became more indifferent to a French pension. Nor was he insensible to the reproach of Europe, that he was grown the vassal of France and had tarnished the lustre of the English Crown.[131] Had he been himself protestant, or his subjects catholic, he would probably have given the reins to that jealousy of his ambitious neighbour, which, even in his peculiar circumstances, restrained him from the most expedient course; I mean expedient, on the hypothesis that to overthrow the civil and religious institutions of his people was to be the main object of his reign. For it was idle to attempt this without the steady co-operation of France; and those sentiments of dignity and independence, which at first sight appear to do him honour, being without any consistent magnanimity of character, served only to accelerate his ruin, and confirm the persuasion of his incapacity.[132] Even in the memorable year 1688, though the veil was at length torn from his eyes on the verge of the precipice, and he sought in trembling the assistance he had slighted, his silly pride made him half unwilling to be rescued; and, when the French ambassador at the Hague, by a bold manœuvre of diplomacy, asserted to the States that an alliance already subsisted between his master and the king of England, the latter took offence at the unauthorised declaration, and complained privately that Louis treated him as an inferior.[133] It is probable that a more ingenuous policy in the court of Whitehall, by determining the king of France to declare war sooner on Holland, would have prevented the expedition of the Prince of Orange.[134]

The latter continued to receive strong assurances of attachment from men of rank in England; but wanted that direct invitation to enter the kingdom with force, which he required both for his security and his justification. No men who thought much about their country's interests or their own would be hasty in venturing on so awful an enterprise. The punishment and ignominy of treason, the reproach of history, too often the sworn slave of fortune, awaited its failure. Thus Halifax and Nottingham found their conscience or their courage unequal to the crisis, and drew back from the hardy conspiracy that produced the revolution.[135] Nor, perhaps, would the seven eminent persons, whose names are subscribed to the invitation addressed on the 30th of June 1688, to the Prince of Orange, the Earls of Danby, Shrewsbury, and Devonshire, Lords Delamere and Lumley, the Bishop of London, and Admiral Russell, have committed themselves so far, if the recent birth of a Prince of Wales had not made some measures of force absolutely necessary for the common interests of the nation and the Prince of Orange.[136] It cannot be said without absurdity, that James was guilty of any offence in becoming father of this child; yet it was evidently that which rendered his other offence inexpiable. He was now considerably advanced in life; and the decided resistance of his subjects made it improbable that he could do much essential injury to the established constitution during the remainder of it. The mere certainty of all reverting to a protestant heir would be an effectual guarantee of the Anglican church. But the birth of a son to be nursed in the obnoxious bigotry of Rome, the prospect of a regency under the queen, so deeply implicated, according to common report, in the schemes of this reign, made every danger appear more terrible. From the moment that the queen's pregnancy was announced, the catholics gave way to enthusiastic unrepressed exultation; and by the confidence with which they prophesied the birth of an heir, furnished a pretext for the suspicions which a disappointed people began to entertain.[137] These suspicions were very general; they extended to the highest ranks, and are a conspicuous instance of that prejudice which is chiefly founded on our wishes. Lord Danby, in a letter to William, of March 27, insinuates his doubt of the queen's pregnancy. After the child's birth, the seven subscribers to the association inviting the prince to come over, and pledging themselves to join him, say that not one in a thousand believe it to be the queen's; Lord Devonshire separately held language to the same effect.[138] The Princess Anne talked with little restraint of her suspicions, and made no scruple of imparting them to her sister.[139] Though no one can hesitate at present to acknowledge that the Prince of Wales's legitimacy is out of all question, there was enough to raise a reasonable apprehension in the presumptive heir, that a party not really very scrupulous, and through religious animosity supposed to be still less so, had been induced by the undoubted prospect of advantage to draw the king, who had been wholly their slave, into one of those frauds which bigotry might call pious.[140]

Justice and necessity of the Revolution.—The great event however of what has been emphatically denominated in the language of our public acts the Glorious Revolution stands in need of no vulgar credulity, no mistaken prejudice, for its support. It can only rest on the basis of a liberal theory of government, which looks to the public good as the great end for which positive laws and the constitutional order of states have been instituted. It cannot be defended without rejecting the slavish principles of absolute obedience, or even that pretended modification of them which imagines some extreme cases of intolerable tyranny, some, as it were, lunacy of despotism, as the only plea and palliation of resistance. Doubtless the administration of James II. was not of this nature. Doubtless he was not a Caligula, or a Commodus, or an Ezzelin, or a Galeazzo Sforza, or a Christiern II. of Denmark, or a Charles IX. of France, or one of those almost innumerable tyrants whom men have endured in the wantonness of unlimited power. No man had been deprived of his liberty by any illegal warrant. No man, except in the single though very important instance of Magdalen College, had been despoiled of his property. I must also add that the government of James II. will lose little by comparison with that of his father. The judgment in favour of his prerogative to dispense with the test, was far more according to received notions of law, far less injurious and unconstitutional, than that which gave a sanction to ship-money. The injunction to read the declaration of indulgence in churches was less offensive to scrupulous men than the similar command to read the declaration of Sunday sports in the time of Charles I. Nor was any one punished for a refusal to comply with the one; while the prisons had been filled with those who had disobeyed the other. Nay, what is more, there are much stronger presumptions of the father's than of the son's intention to lay aside parliaments, and set up an avowed despotism. It is indeed amusing to observe that many, who scarcely put bounds to their eulogies of Charles I., have been content to abandon the cause of one who had no faults in his public conduct but such as seemed to have come by inheritance. The characters of the father and son were very closely similar: both proud of their judgment as well as their station, and still more obstinate in their understanding than in their purpose; both scrupulously conscientious in certain great points of conduct, to the sacrifice of that power which they had preferred to everything else; the one far superior in relish for the arts and for polite letters, the other more diligent and indefatigable in business; the father exempt from those vices of a court to which the son was too long addicted; not so harsh perhaps or prone to severity in his temper, but inferior in general sincerity and adherence to his word. They were both equally unfitted for the condition in which they were meant to stand—the limited kings of a wise and free people, the chiefs of the English commonwealth.

The most plausible argument against the necessity of so violent a remedy for public grievances as the abjuration of allegiance to a reigning sovereign, was one that misled half the nation in that age, and is still sometimes insinuated by those whose pity for the misfortunes of the house of Stuart appears to predominate over every other sentiment which the history of the revolution should excite. It was alleged that the constitutional mode of redress by parliament was not taken away; that the king's attempts to obtain promises of support from the electors and probable representatives showed his intention of calling one; that the writs were in fact ordered before the Prince of Orange's expedition; that after the invader had reached London, James still offered to refer the terms of reconciliation with his people to a free parliament, though he could have no hope of evading any that might be proposed; that by reversing illegal judgments, by annulling unconstitutional dispensations, by reinstating those who had been unjustly dispossessed, by punishing wicked advisers, above all, by passing statutes to restrain the excesses and cut off the dangerous prerogatives of the monarchy (as efficacious, or more so, than the bill of rights and other measures that followed the revolution), all risk of arbitrary power, or of injury to the established religion, might have been prevented without a violation of that hereditary right which was as fundamental in the constitution as any of the subject's privileges. It was not necessary to enter upon the delicate problem of absolute non-resistance, or to deny that the conservation of the whole was paramount to all positive laws. The question to be proved was, that a regard to this general safety exacted the means employed in the revolution, and constituted that extremity which could alone justify such a deviation from the standard rules of law and religion.

It is evidently true that James had made very little progress, or rather experienced a signal defeat, in his endeavour to place the professors of his own religion on a firm and honourable basis. There seems the strongest reason to believe that far from reaching his end through the new parliament, he would have experienced those warm assaults on the administration, which generally distinguished the House of Commons under his father and brother. But, as he was in no want of money, and had not the temper to endure what he thought the language of republican faction, we may be equally sure that a short and angry session would have ended with a more decided resolution on his side to govern in future without such impracticable counsellors. The doctrine imputed of old to Lord Strafford, that, after trying the good-will of parliament in vain, a king was absolved from the legal maxims of government, was always at the heart of the Stuarts. His army was numerous, according at least to English notions; he had already begun to fill it with popish officers and soldiers; the militia, though less to be depended on, was under the command of lord and deputy lieutenants carefully selected; above all, he would at the last have recourse to France; and though the experiment of bringing over French troops was very hazardous, it is difficult to say that he might not have succeeded, with all these means, in preventing or putting down any concerted insurrection. But at least the renewal of civil bloodshed and the anarchy of rebellion seemed to be the alternative of slavery, if William had never earned the just title of our deliverer. It is still more evident that, after the invasion had taken place, and a general defection had exhibited the king's inability to resist, there could have been no such compromise as the Tories fondly expected, no legal and peaceable settlement in what they called a free parliament, leaving James in the real and recognised possession of his constitutional prerogatives. Those who have grudged William III. the laurels that he won for our service are ever prone to insinuate, that his unnatural ambition would be content with nothing less than the Crown, instead of returning to his country after he had convinced the king of the error of his counsels, and obtained securities for the religion and liberties of England. The hazard of the enterprise, and most hazardous it truly was, was to have been his; the profit and advantage our own. I do not know that William absolutely expected to place himself on the throne; because he could hardly anticipate that James would so precipitately abandon a kingdom wherein he was acknowledged, and had still many adherents. But undoubtedly he must, in consistency with his magnanimous designs, have determined to place England in its natural station, as a party in the great alliance against the power of Louis XIV. To this one object of securing the liberties of Europe, and chiefly of his own country, the whole of his heroic life was directed with undeviating, undisheartened firmness. He had in view no distant prospect, when the entire succession of the Spanish monarchy would be claimed by that insatiable prince, whose renunciation at the treaty of the Pyrenees was already maintained to be invalid. Against the present aggressions and future schemes of this neighbour the league of Augsburg had just been concluded. England, a free, a protestant, a maritime kingdom, would, in her natural position, as a rival of France, and deeply concerned in the independence of the Netherlands, become a leading member of this confederacy. But the sinister attachments of the house of Stuarts had long diverted her from her true interests, and rendered her councils disgracefully and treacherously subservient to those of Louis. It was therefore the main object of the Prince of Orange to strengthen the alliance by the vigorous co-operation of this kingdom; and with no other view, the emperor, and even the pope, had abetted his undertaking. But it was impossible to imagine that James would have come with sincerity into measures so repugnant to his predilections and interests. What better could be expected than a recurrence of that false and hollow system which had betrayed Europe and dishonoured England under Charles II.; or rather, would not the sense of injury and thraldom have inspired still more deadly aversion to the cause of those to whom he must have ascribed his humiliation? There was as little reason to hope that he would abandon the long-cherished schemes of arbitrary power, and the sacred interests of his own faith. We must remember that, when the adherents or apologists of James II. have spoken of him as an unfortunately misguided prince, they have insinuated what neither the notorious history of those times, nor the more secret information since brought to light, will in any degree confirm. It was indeed a strange excuse for a king of such mature years, and so trained in the most diligent attention to business. That in some particular instances he acted under the influence of his confessor, Petre, is not unlikely; but the general temper of his administration, his notions of government, the objects he had in view, were perfectly his own, and were pursued rather in spite of much dissuasion and many warnings, than through the suggestions of any treacherous counsellors.

Both with respect therefore to the Prince of Orange and to the English nation, James II. was to be considered as an enemy whose resentment could never be appeased, and whose power consequently must be wholly taken away. It is true that, if he had remained in England, it would have been extremely difficult to deprive him of the nominal sovereignty. But in this case, the Prince of Orange must have been invested, by some course or other, with all its real attributes. He undoubtedly intended to remain in this country; and could not otherwise have preserved that entire ascendancy which was necessary for his ultimate purposes. The king could not have been permitted, with any common prudence, to retain the choice of his ministers, or the command of his army, or his negative voice in laws, or even his personal liberty; by which I mean, that his guards must have been either Dutch, or at least appointed by the prince and parliament. Less than this it would have been childish to require; and this would not have been endured by any man even of James's spirit, or by the nation, when the re-action of loyalty should return, without continued efforts to get rid of an arrangement far more revolutionary and subversive of the established monarchy than the king's deposition.