I would not willingly attribute to the prevalence of Tory dispositions what may be explained otherwise, the progress which Mr. Hume's historical theory as to our constitution has been gradually making since its publication. The tide of opinion, which since the Revolution, and indeed since the reign of James I., had been flowing so strongly in favour of the antiquity of our liberties, now seems, among the higher and more literary classes, to set pretty decidedly the other way. Though we may still sometimes hear a demagogue chattering about the witenagemot, it is far more usual to find sensible and liberal men who look on Magna Charta itself as the result of an uninteresting squabble between the king and his barons. Acts of force and injustice, which strike the cursory inquirer, especially if he derives his knowledge from modern compilations, more than the average tenor of events, are selected and displayed as fair samples of the law and of its administration. We are deceived by the comparatively perfect state of our present liberties, and forget that our superior security is far less owing to positive law than to the control which is exercised over government by public opinion through the general use of printing, and to the diffusion of liberal principles in policy through the same means. Thus disgusted at a contrast which it was hardly candid to institute, we turn away from the records that attest the real, though imperfect, freedom of our ancestors; and are willing to be persuaded that the whole scheme of English polity, till the commons took on themselves to assert their natural rights against James I., was at best but a mockery of popular privileges, hardly recognised in theory, and never regarded in effect.[f]
This system, when stripped of those slavish inferences that Brady and Carte attempted to build upon it, admits perhaps of no essential objection but its want of historical truth. God forbid that our rights to just and free government should be tried by a jury of antiquaries! Yet it is a generous pride that intertwines the consciousness of hereditary freedom with the memory of our ancestors; and no trifling argument against those who seem indifferent in its cause, that the character of the bravest and most virtuous among nations has not depended upon the accidents of race or climate, but been gradually wrought by the plastic influence of civil rights, transmitted as a prescriptive inheritance through a long course of generations.
Causes tending to form the constitution.
By what means the English acquired and preserved this political liberty, which, even in the fifteenth century, was the admiration of judicious foreigners,[g] is a very rational and interesting inquiry. Their own serious and steady attachment to the laws must always be reckoned among the principal causes of this blessing. The civil equality of all freemen below the rank of peerage, and the subjection of peers themselves to the impartial arm of justice, and to a due share in contribution to public burthens, advantages unknown to other countries, tended to identify the interests and to assimilate the feelings of the aristocracy with those of the people; classes whose dissension and jealousy has been in many instances the surest hope of sovereigns aiming at arbitrary power. This freedom from the oppressive superiority of a privileged order was peculiar to England. In many kingdoms the royal prerogative was at least equally limited. The statutes of Aragon are more full of remedial provisions. The right of opposing a tyrannical government by arms was more frequently asserted in Castile. But nowhere else did the people possess by law, and I think, upon the whole, in effect, so much security for their personal freedom and property. Accordingly, the middling ranks flourished remarkably, not only in commercial towns, but among the cultivators of the soil. "There is scarce a small village," says Sir J. Fortescue, "in which you may not find a knight, an esquire, or some substantial householder (paterfamilias), commonly called a frankleyn,[h] possessed of considerable estate; besides others who are called freeholders, and many yeomen of estates sufficient to make a substantial jury." I would, however, point out more particularly two causes which had a very leading efficacy in the gradual development of our constitution; first, the schemes of continental ambition in which our government was long engaged; secondly, the manner in which feudal principles of insubordination and resistance were modified by the prerogatives of the early Norman kings.
1. At the epoch when William the Conqueror ascended the throne, hardly any other power was possessed by the king of France than what he inherited from the great fiefs of the Capetian family. War with such a potentate was not exceedingly to be dreaded, and William, besides his immense revenue, could employ the feudal services of his vassals, which were extended by him to continental expeditions. These circumstances were not essentially changed till after the loss of Normandy; for the acquisitions of Henry II. kept him fully on an equality with the French crown, and the dilapidation which had taken place in the royal demesnes was compensated by several arbitrary resources that filled the exchequer of these monarchs. But in the reigns of John and Henry III., the position of England, or rather of its sovereign, with respect to France, underwent a very disadvantageous change. The loss of Normandy severed the connexion between the English nobility and the continent; they had no longer estates to defend, and took not sufficient interest in the concerns of Guienne to fight for that province at their own cost. Their feudal service was now commuted for an escuage, which fell very short of the expenses incurred in a protracted campaign. Tallages of royal towns and demesne lands, extortion of money from the Jews, every feudal abuse and oppression, were tried in vain to replenish the treasury, which the defence of Eleanor's inheritance against the increased energy of France was constantly exhausting. Even in the most arbitrary reigns, a general tax upon landholders, in any cases but those prescribed by the feudal law, had not been ventured; and the standing bulwark of Magna Charta, as well as the feebleness and unpopularity of Henry III., made it more dangerous to violate an established principle. Subsidies were therefore constantly required; but for these it was necessary for the king to meet parliament, to hear their complaints, and, if he could not elude, to acquiesce in their petitions. These necessities came still more urgently upon Edward I., whose ambitious spirit could not patiently endure the encroachments of Philip the Fair, a rival not less ambitious, but certainly less distinguished by personal prowess, than himself. What advantage the friends of liberty reaped from this ardour for continental warfare is strongly seen in the circumstances attending the Confirmation of the Charters.
But after this statute had rendered all tallages without consent of parliament illegal, though it did not for some time prevent their being occasionally imposed, it was still more difficult to carry on a war with France or Scotland, to keep on foot naval armaments, or even to preserve the courtly magnificence which that age of chivalry affected, without perpetual recurrence to the house of commons. Edward III. very little consulted the interests of his prerogative when he stretched forth his hand to seize the phantom of a crown in France. It compelled him to assemble parliament almost annually, and often to hold more than one session within the year. Here the representatives of England learned the habit of remonstrance and conditional supply; and though, in the meridian of Edward's age and vigour, they often failed of immediate redress, yet they gradually swelled the statute-roll with provisions to secure their country's freedom; and acquiring self-confidence by mutual intercourse, and sense of the public opinion, they became able, before the end of Edward's reign, and still more in that of his grandson, to control, prevent, and punish the abuses of administration. Of all these proud and sovereign privileges, the right of refusing supply was the keystone. But for the long wars in which our kings were involved, at first by their possession of Guienne, and afterwards by their pretensions upon the crown of France, it would have been easy to suppress remonstrances by avoiding to assemble parliament. For it must be confessed that an authority was given to the king's proclamations, and to ordinances of the council, which differed but little from legislative power, and would very soon have been interpreted by complaisant courts of justice to give them the full extent of statutes.
It is common indeed to assert that the liberties of England were bought with the blood of our forefathers. This is a very magnanimous boast, and in some degree is consonant enough to the truth. But it is far more generally accurate to say that they were purchased by money. A great proportion of our best laws, including Magna Charta itself, as it now stands confirmed by Henry III., were, in the most literal sense, obtained by a pecuniary bargain with the crown. In many parliaments of Edward III. and Richard II. this sale of redress is chaffered for as distinctly, and with as little apparent sense of disgrace, as the most legitimate business between two merchants would be transacted. So little was there of voluntary benevolence in what the loyal courtesy of our constitution styles concessions from the throne; and so little title have these sovereigns, though we cannot refuse our admiration to the generous virtues of Edward III. and Henry V., to claim the gratitude of posterity as the benefactors of their people!
2. The relation established between a lord and his vassal by the feudal tenure, far from containing principles of any servile and implicit obedience, permitted the compact to be dissolved in case of its violation by either party. This extended as much to the sovereign as to inferior lords; the authority of the former in France, where the system most flourished, being for several ages rather feudal than political. If a vassal was aggrieved, and if justice was denied him, he sent a defiance, that is, a renunciation of fealty to the king, and was entitled to enforce redress at the point of his sword. It then became a contest of strength as between two independent potentates, and was terminated by treaty, advantageous or otherwise, according to the fortune of war. This privilege, suited enough to the situation of France, the great peers of which did not originally intend to admit more than a nominal supremacy in the house of Capet, was evidently less compatible with the regular monarchy of England. The stern natures of William the Conqueror and his successors kept in control the mutinous spirit of their nobles, and reaped the profit of feudal tenures without submitting to their reciprocal obligations. They counteracted, if I may so say, the centrifugal force of that system by the application of a stronger power; by preserving order, administering justice, checking the growth of baronial influence and riches, with habitual activity, vigilance, and severity. Still, however, there remained the original principle, that allegiance depended conditionally upon good treatment, and that an appeal might be lawfully made to arms against an oppressive government. Nor was this, we may be sure, left for extreme necessity, or thought to require a long enduring forbearance. In modern times a king compelled by his subjects' swords to abandon any pretension would be supposed to have ceased to reign; and the express recognition of such a right as that of insurrection has been justly deemed inconsistent with the majesty of law. But ruder ages had ruder sentiments. Force was necessary to repel force; and men accustomed to see the king's authority defied by private riot were not much shocked when it was resisted in defence of public freedom.
The Great Charter of John was secured by the election of twenty-five barons as conservators of the compact. If the king, of the justiciary in his absence, should transgress any article, any four might demand reparation, and on denial carry their complaint to the rest of their body. "And those barons, with all the commons of the land, shall distrain and annoy us by every means in their power; that is, by seizing our castles, lands, and possessions, and every other mode, till the wrong shall be repaired to their satisfaction; saving our person, and our queen and children. And when it shall be repaired they shall obey us as before."[] It is amusing to see the common law of distress introduced upon this gigantic scale; and the capture of the king's castles treated as analogous to impounding a neighbour's horse for breaking fences.
A very curious illustration of this feudal principle is found in the conduct of William earl of Pembroke, one of the greatest names in our ancient history, towards Henry III. The king had defied him, which was tantamount to a declaration of war; alleging that he had made an inroad upon the royal domains. Pembroke maintained that he was not the aggressor, that the king had denied him justice, and been the first to invade his territory; on which account he had thought himself absolved from his homage, and at liberty to use force against the malignity of the royal advisers. "Nor would it be for the king's honour," the earl adds, "that I should submit to his will against reason, whereby I should rather do wrong to him and to that justice which he is bound to administer towards his people; and I should give an ill example to all men in deserting justice and right in compliance with his mistaken will. For this would show that I loved my worldly wealth better than justice." These words, with whatever dignity expressed, it may be objected, prove only the disposition of an angry and revolted earl. But even Henry fully admitted the right of taking arms against himself if he had meditated his vassal's destruction, and disputed only the application of this maxim to the earl of Pembroke.[k]