While there were absurdities in this anti-Catholic panic, it contained an element that was not unreasonable. Throughout the century the Papist counter-reformation had made alarming progress. In France, the strongest nation in the world, it had just scored a final victory in the expulsion of the Huguenots. In Germany the Thirty Years’ War had left Protestantism weaker than it had been at the death of Martin Luther. England had barely escaped from having a Papist dynasty settled upon her; nor was it yet sure that she had escaped. A caprice of fortune might drive King William out as suddenly as he had come. Ireland still held out for the Stuarts, and there in May, 1689, James II. landed with French troops, in the hope of winning back his crown. The officer who held Ireland for James was Richard Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnel, a distant relative and intimate friend of Lord Baltimore. Under these circumstances a panic was natural. There were absurd rumours of a plot between Catholics and Indians to massacre Protestants. More reasonable was the jealous eagerness with which men watched the council to see what it would do about proclaiming William and Mary. Lord Baltimore was prompt in sending from London directions to the council to proclaim them; whatever his political leanings might have been, he could in prudence hardly do less. But the messenger died on the voyage, and a second messenger was too late.
Coode’s coup d’état, 1689.
Overthrow of the palatinate, 1691.
Meanwhile, in April, 1689, there was formed “An Association in arms for the defense of the Protestant Religion, and for asserting the right of King William and Queen Mary to the Province of Maryland and all the English Dominions.” The president of this association was John Coode, who had married a daughter of that Thomas Gerrard who took a part in Fendall’s rebellion. Another leader, who had married another daughter of Gerrard, was Nehemiah Blackiston, collector of customs, who had been foremost in accusing the Calverts of obstructing his work. Others were Kenelm Cheseldyn, speaker of the house, and Henry Jowles, colonel of the militia. As the weeks passed by, and news of the proclaiming of William and Mary by one colony after another arrived, and still the council took no action in the matter, people grew impatient and the association kept winning recruits. At last, toward the end of July, Coode appeared before St. Mary’s at the head of 700 armed men. No resistance was offered. The council fled to a fort on the Patuxent River, where they were besieged and in a few days surrendered. Coode detained all outward-bound ships until he had prepared an account of these proceedings to send to King William in the name of the Protestant inhabitants of Maryland. Like the insurrection in Boston, three months earlier, which overthrew Sir Edmund Andros, this bold stroke wore the aspect of a rising against the deposed king in favour of the king actually reigning. William was asked to undertake the government of Maryland, and the whole affair met with his approval. He issued a scire facias against the Baltimore charter, and before a decision had been reached in the court of chancery he sent out Sir Lionel Copley in 1691, to be royal governor of Maryland. In such wise was the palatinate overturned.
Oppressive enactments.
Removal of the capital to Annapolis, 1694.
If any party in Maryland expected the millennium to follow this revolution, they were disappointed. Taxes were straightway levied for the support of the Church of England, the further immigration of Catholics was prohibited under heavy penalties, and the public celebration of the mass was strictly forbidden within the limits of the colony. When Governor Nicholson arrived upon the scene, in 1694, he summoned his first assembly to meet at the Anne Arundel town formerly known as Providence; and in the course of that session it was decided to move the seat of government thither from St. Mary’s. The purpose was to deal a blow at the old capital, the social and political centre of Catholicism in Maryland. Bitter indignation was felt at St. Mary’s, and a petition signed by the mayor and other municipal officers, with a number of the freemen, was sent to the assembly, praying that the change might be reconsidered. The House of Burgesses returned an answer, brutal and vulgar in tone, which shows the wellnigh incredible virulence of political passion in those days.[113] The blow was final, so far as St. Mary’s was concerned. Her civic life had evidently depended upon the presence of the government. At one time, with its fifty or sixty houses, the little city founded by Leonard Calvert was much larger than Jamestown; but after the removal it dwindled till little was left save a memory. The name of the new capital on the Severn was doubtless felt to be cumbrous, for it was presently changed to Annapolis,[114] the first of a set of queer hybrid compounds with which the map of the United States is besprinkled. Nicholson wished to crown the work of founding a new capital by establishing a school or college there, and accordingly in 1696 King William School was founded. For many years the income for supporting this and other free schools was derived from an export duty on furs.[115]
Unpopularity of the establishment of the Episcopal church.
Episcopal parsons.
The change of the capital was perhaps bewailed only by the Catholics and others who were most strongly attached to the proprietary government. But the change in ecclesiastical policy disgusted everybody. Taxation for the support of the Episcopal church, of which only a small part of the population were members, was as unpopular with Puritans as with Papists. The Puritans, who had worked so zealously to undermine the proprietary government, had not bargained for such a result as this. The manner in which the church revenue was raised was also extremely irritating. The rate was forty pounds of tobacco per poll, so that rich and poor paid alike. A more inequitable and odious measure could hardly have been devised. The statute, however, with the dullness that usually characterizes the work of legislative bodies, forgot to specify the quality of tobacco in which the rates should be paid. Naturally, therefore, they were paid in the vilest unmarketable stuff that could be found, and the Episcopal clergymen found it hard to keep the wolf from the door. There was thus no inducement for competent ministers to come to Maryland, and those that were sent from England were of the poorest sort which the English Church in that period of its degradation could provide. Dr. Thomas Chandler, of New Jersey, who visited the eastern shore of Maryland in 1753, wrote to the Bishop of London as follows: “The general character of the clergy ... is wretchedly bad.... It would really, my lord, make the ears of a sober heathen tingle to hear the stories that were told me by many serious persons of several clergymen in the neighbourhood of the parish where I visited; but I still hope that some abatement may be fairly made on account of the prejudices of those who related them.”[116] The Swedish botanist, Peter Kalm, who visited Maryland about the same time, tells us that it was a common trick with a parson, when performing the marriage service for a poor couple, to halt midway and refuse to go on till a good round fee had been handed over to him.[117] On such occasions it may be presumed that the tobacco was of unimpeachable quality.