1688.
A third important meeting followed next day, the 2nd of November, when the Bishop of London, with Crew, of Durham, and Cartwright, of Chester—both considered half Papists—and Watson, of St. David’s, a thorough courtier,[37] were brought together at Whitehall, and the Archbishop following them there, conducted them into the Royal closet. The Archbishop explicitly denied having signed the invitation. The Bishop of London artfully said he had given his answer the day before. The Bishop of Durham declared, “I am sure I am none of them.” “Nor I.” “Nor I,” cried the other two. James proceeded to insist that they and their brethren on the Bench should publicly vindicate themselves, and express abhorrence of William’s design.
The next day, November the 3rd, the Bishops of London and Rochester went to Lambeth to dine with His Grace, but finding their brethren of Chester and St. David’s present, though uninvited, they proceeded to a friend’s house in the neighbourhood, and returned, between two and three o’clock, to the Palace, after the other two had left. Then they conferred with Sancroft as to what should be done.[38]
THE CRISIS.
1688.
The fourth important meeting of this kind took place on November the 6th, when the Archbishop, and the Bishops of London, Rochester, and Peterborough, made their appearance in the Sovereign’s presence; the Bishop of St. David’s—throughout an object of suspicion—“waiting for them in the Guard-chamber, ready to thrust in with them to the King.” The Primate, taking Lord Preston aside, requested him to procure for them a private audience; upon which the King, through his Lordship, ordered the obnoxious and forward Prelate to withdraw. The rest told James they had done all they could, and that if he were satisfied, they did not care for other people’s opinions; but when he talked to them of such a paper as he had required, they fell back on the ground they had occupied before, that scarcely one in five hundred believed in the genuineness of the document published in the Prince’s name. The Archbishop did not touch the question of the paper so much wished for by James, although one had been drawn up, and signed by himself; most probably the reason of this omission was, that he could not carry his brethren with him in the matter, and he felt it would not do for him to make a solitary disavowal on the subject. Presently the dispute wandered into a confused maze, and the Archbishop could not help adverting to the treatment which he and his six brethren had received at the Royal hands. The King was annoyed, but the Primate persevered; the rest supported him, and His Majesty stood like a stag at bay. James retorted that if they complained, he had a right to complain too, and the quarrel became unseemly in the extreme. Indeed, His Majesty was now beginning to find that whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap, and as he had by his lawyers bearded the Bishops in his own Court at Westminster, the Bishops in return were bearding him in his own Palace of Whitehall. The conversation came round to the old point. James wanted them to sign a paper. They would not. “I am your King,” he said; “I am judge what is best for me. I will go my own way; I desire your assistance in it.” Go his own way he might, but they would not go with him. Whatever their high notions of Royal prerogatives, and the obligations of subjects, might have been once, the recent trial had wonderfully opened the eyes of their understanding. They would not take on themselves the responsibility of publishing any disclaimer. His Majesty might publish to the world what they had said, if he liked.[39] “No,” said he; “if I should publish it, the people would not believe me.” Not believe him? The confession was most humiliating. “Sir,” said the right reverend father, “the word of a King is sacred—it ought to be believed.” “They that could believe me guilty of a false son, what will they not believe of me?” was the bitter rejoinder. James’ credit had sunk as low as it could. Further talking was useless. “I will urge you no further,” said he, in conclusion. “If you will not assist me as I desire, I must stand upon my own legs, and trust to myself and my own arms.” So they were dismissed.[40]
THE CRISIS.
One of the Bishops, writing on the 14th of October, had remarked, “All people’s mouths are now full of praises for our order, to whom they say they shall ever owe the preservation of our religion,”—a statement which should be considered in connection with what I have said as to letters of a different purport addressed to Sancroft. The fact seems to have been, that whilst some Churchmen were dissatisfied with irregularities in the Establishment which they blamed the Bishops for not correcting, others—a far larger number—looking chiefly at that moment to the religious and political liberties of the country, regarded certain of the Bishops as making a noble stand against the designs of James. The Bishops’ popularity increased the following month, and although Compton’s Jesuitical answer to the King must be condemned by everybody, and the doubts expressed by the Bishops present at the interview on the 6th, as to the genuineness of William’s Declaration, will appear to most people as reflecting either upon their judgment or their straightforwardness, still their determination not to submit to James’ dictation was in harmony with the spirit which had made the seven so popular. Their firmness in this respect—in connection with the resistance offered to James by other Prelates not present on this last occasion, and responsible neither for Compton’s equivocation or their brethren’s remarks about the Orange documents—certainly operated in favour of the approaching Revolution, the full nature of which, however, they did not foresee.
1688.
The day before this 6th of November a momentous event had occurred, of which at the time they knew nothing.