LONDON
21st February, 1689. Dr. Burnet preached at St. James's on the obligation to walk worthy of God's particular and signal deliverance of the nation and church.
I saw the new Queen and King proclaimed the very next day after her coming to Whitehall, Wednesday, 13th February, with great acclamation and general good reception. Bonfires, bells, guns, etc. It was believed that both, especially the Princess, would have shown some (seeming) reluctance at least, of assuming her father's crown, and made some apology, testifying by her regret that he should by his mismanagement necessitate the nation to so extraordinary a proceeding, which would have shown very handsomely to the world, and according to the character given of her piety; consonant also to her husband's first declaration, that there was no intention of deposing the King, but of succoring the nation; but nothing of all this appeared; she came into Whitehall laughing and jolly, as to a wedding, so as to seem quite transported. She rose early the next morning, and in her undress, as it was reported, before her women were up, went about from room to room to see the convenience of Whitehall; lay in the same bed and apartment where the late Queen lay, and within a night or two sat down to play at basset, as the Queen, her predecessor used to do. She smiled upon and talked to everybody, so that no change seemed to have taken place at Court since her last going away, save that infinite crowds of people thronged to see her, and that she went to our prayers. This carriage was censured by many. She seems to be of a good nature, and that she takes nothing to heart: while the Prince, her husband, has a thoughtful countenance, is wonderfully serious and silent, and seems to treat all persons alike gravely, and to be very intent on affairs: Holland, Ireland, and France calling for his care.
Divers Bishops and Noblemen are not at all satisfied with this so sudden assumption of the Crown, without any previous sending, and offering some conditions to the absent King; or on his not returning, or not assenting to those conditions, to have proclaimed him Regent; but the major part of both Houses prevailed to make them King and Queen immediately, and a crown was tempting. This was opposed and spoken against with such vehemence by Lord Clarendon (her own uncle), that it put him by all preferment, which must doubtless have been as great as could have been given him. My Lord of Rochester, his brother, overshot himself, by the same carriage and stiffness, which their friends thought they might have well spared when they saw how it was like to be overruled, and that it had been sufficient to have declared their dissent with less passion, acquiescing in due time.
The Archbishop of Canterbury and some of the rest, on scruple of conscience and to salve the oaths they had taken, entered their protests and hung off, especially the Archbishop, who had not all this while so much as appeared out of Lambeth. This occasioned the wonder of many who observed with what zeal they contributed to the Prince's expedition, and all the while also rejecting any proposals of sending again to the absent King; that they should now raise scruples, and such as created much division among the people, greatly rejoicing the old courtiers, and especially the Papists.
Another objection was, the invalidity of what was done by a convention only, and the as yet unabrogated laws; this drew them to make themselves on the 22d [February] a Parliament, the new King passing the act with the crown on his head. The lawyers disputed, but necessity prevailed, the government requiring a speedy settlement.
Innumerable were the crowds, who solicited for, and expected offices; most of the old ones were turned out. Two or three white staves were disposed of some days before, as Lord Steward, to the Earl of Devonshire; Treasurer of the household, to Lord Newport; Lord Chamberlain to the King, to my Lord of Dorset; but there were as yet none in offices of the civil government save the Marquis of Halifax as Privy Seal. A council of thirty was chosen, Lord Derby president, but neither Chancellor nor Judges were yet declared, the new Great Seal not yet finished.
8th March, 1689. Dr. Tillotson, Dean of Canterbury, made an excellent discourse on Matt. v. 44, exhorting to charity and forgiveness of enemies; I suppose purposely, the new Parliament being furious about impeaching those who were obnoxious, and as their custom has ever been, going on violently, without reserve, or modification, while wise men were of opinion the most notorious offenders being named and excepted, an Act of Amnesty would be more seasonable, to pacify the minds of men in so general a discontent of the nation, especially of those who did not expect to see the government assumed without any regard to the absent King, or proving a spontaneous abdication, or that the birth of the Prince of Wales was an imposture; five of the Bishops also still refusing to take the new oath.
In the meantime, to gratify the people, the hearth-tax was remitted forever; but what was intended to supply it, besides present great taxes on land, is not named.
The King abroad was now furnished by the French King with money and officers for an expedition to Ireland. The great neglect in not more timely preventing that from hence, and the disturbances in Scotland, give apprehensions of great difficulties, before any settlement can be perfected here, while the Parliament dispose of the great offices among themselves. The Great Seal, Treasury and Admiralty put into commission of many unexpected persons, to gratify the more; so that by the present appearance of things (unless God Almighty graciously interpose and give success in Ireland and settle Scotland) more trouble seems to threaten the nation than could be expected. In the interim, the new King refers all to the Parliament in the most popular manner, but is very slow in providing against all these menaces, besides finding difficulties in raising men to send abroad; the former army, which had never seen any service hitherto, receiving their pay and passing their summer in an idle scene of a camp at Hounslow, unwilling to engage, and many disaffected, and scarce to be trusted.