Another far more substantial concession to French demands soon after came up for discussion.

It was a striking tribute to Cromwell's influence abroad that the sea-port of Dunkirk, when conquered by the allied Powers, had, according to treaty, been handed over to the keeping of the English Commonwealth. It was not the only important possession which the restored King of England owed to the prowess of the rebels by whom he had been exiled, and to whose conquests he was now the heir. As to its value there were doubts. Although it had been a troublesome hive of privateers, the place was reckoned not to be really of much strategical importance, and the naval experts had already expressed doubts whether its value was equivalent to the expense which it involved. The revenue of England was sorely crippled, and the possession of Dunkirk not only involved heavy expenditure, but was a very probable source of expensive warlike complications. It was from Lord Southampton, who, as Treasurer, felt the financial burden most, that the first suggestion of parting with it came. The exchequer was in ill state to stand further drains, and Tangier and Bombay, however beneficial their possession might ultimately become, were now nothing but sources of heavy expense. Southampton imparted his misgivings to the King, and sought for some device by which he might shift some part of the constantly growing expenditure. Could Dunkirk not be handed over as a damnosa hereditas? The naval experts were consulted, and were ready not only to acquiesce, but to avow their opinion that Dunkirk offered no advantages equivalent to its cost, which was reckoned at not less than a hundred and twenty thousand a year. Southampton told the Chancellor of his difficulties, and propounded to him the scheme for lightening them; but found Clarendon so averse to a proposal for parting with any naval stronghold, that even the entire confidence bred of their old friendship did not tempt the Treasurer to reopen a subject so distasteful until some definite proposal could be framed. The General (Albemarle) and he laid it before the King so urgently, that Charles was attracted by a scheme which offered the tempting bait of financial provision, and at length it was formally brought before that secret and select Council which consulted upon all matters of prime importance. It could no longer be kept from the Chancellor; and Clarendon's illness made it necessary on this, as on many other occasions, to summon the Council to his sickroom, where, besides the King and the Duke of York, the Chancellor and the Treasurer, with Albemarle, Sandwich, Sir George Carteret, and the two secretaries of State, were present. Southampton knew the opposition he had to expect from Clarendon, and playfully asked the King, when he entered the room, "to take the Chancellor's staff from him, otherwise he would break his Treasurer's head." Charles told Clarendon that the business to be debated was one which he knew that Clarendon would oppose; but when he had heard the arguments, he thought they would change his view. Steps had evidently been taken with care to prepare the ground and marshall the arguments. The naval and military experts explained the small strategical value of the place, its ineffectiveness as a naval base, and the deficiencies of its land defences. Against such arguments Clarendon was, of course, powerless; and it was equally impossible for him to argue away the heavy burden on a crippled treasury, of which the Treasurer begged to be relieved. To hold the place longer was only too likely to involve a costly war with one or both of the Powers of France and Spain, and it was a source of irritation to the United Provinces as well. Not only were the arguments strong, but the Chancellor was soon convinced that he had not been consulted until those who desired to effect a profitable bargain had already gained the determined adherence of the King. It was no part of Clarendon's practice to argue in the face of impossibilities. Little remained for him or any other Minister but to decide with which Power it was possible to strike the best bargain, and which it was most expedient to conciliate.

There are some variations between the various accounts that have reached us as to the first author of the suggestion. Sandwich, in a conversation with Pepys, [Footnote: In February, 1666.] averred that he himself was the first adviser, and this account is partially confirmed by what Sir Robert Southwell told, in 1670, of a conversation between Sandwich and himself in October, 1667. On the other hand, D'Estrades, the French envoy, asserts— what would give the lie to what Clarendon avers in his Life with convincing proof and elaborate circumstantiality—that Clarendon had told him that he was himself the author of the proposal. As regards Pepys's report, Sandwich, probably, after the common fashion of experts, assigned too much importance to his own expert advice; while the French envoy might easily have misunderstood the attitude assumed by Clarendon, who was bound, of course, to submit to the French diplomat even proposals which he disliked as if he entirely concurred in them. We need have no difficulty in assuming Clarendon's own deliberate and written account to be substantially correct. That he was brought unwillingly to concur in a proposal which had virtually obtained the assent of the King, is confirmed by the fact that in his speech to Parliament in May, 1662, he condemned the murmurs against the cost of Dunkirk, on the ground that it was a diadem of which the English Crown could only be deprived at the cost of great danger. It was no part of Clarendon's character to decline a responsibility which was his own; nor was it his inclination to part lightly with anything that added to the dignity of the English Crown. That the first suggestion did not come from him may be accepted on his own solemn averment; but it is also strongly confirmed by inherent probability.

It remained only to decide with which Power the bargain should be made. Policy, it might have been held, should have some influence in determining the choice, at a moment when international relations were so delicately poised. But Clarendon tells us that, strangely enough, the only question was, Who would give the highest price? Both Spain and France were eager to have the sea-port. Of the two Spain was by far the most popular in England; but she was not likely to be so good a purchaser. She claimed the cession of Dunkirk as a right, and it is always improbable that one who puts forward such a claim should be inclined either to pay heavy purchase- money, or to owe a deep debt of gratitude, for what is claimed as a right. Above all, the coffers of Spain were in no condition to meet a heavy payment. At best, there would have been tedious delay, during which the heavy expenditure on the maintenance of Dunkirk would have continued to fall on the English Treasury. To part with the sea-port to the United Provinces might have secured a better price than from either of the Crowns; but it would have been a signal of war to both of these, and the United Provinces themselves might have found it a costly and embarrassing possession.

It was with France, therefore, that the haggling had to be done, and it was prosecuted with all the eagerness of the auction mart. Such transactions can never be very dignified. The cession of an important sea- port must necessarily be galling to national pride, and an injury to national prestige; and in this case was the more damaging from the tenure of Dunkirk being the token of Cromwell's proud supremacy abroad. The chaffering went on through all the usual stages of alternate bluff and concession on both sides. The final settlement secured for Charles a payment of some two hundred thousand pounds. In the reckoning of the day that was held to be a considerable sum. It possessed the merit, no inconsiderable one in the mind of the King, of being at least free from any of the embarrassments of a Parliamentary grant. Apart from the actual money paid, the Treasury was relieved of an expenditure of about one hundred and twenty thousand pounds annually. Of all such vantage posts abroad, Dunkirk was perhaps the least useful, and the most risky to hold. Trifling as was the price obtained according to our reckoning, it was nevertheless of importance in the actual state of the exchequer. But the nation invariably shows itself sensitive to the loss of honour implied in such a cession, and is glad to have a victim on which to wreak its irritation. It was on Clarendon that its unreasoning vengeance fell, and at a later day the blame for an arrangement which he did not initiate, and which at first he earnestly opposed, aggravated his growing unpopularity. Once more he had had to content himself, not with the policy he most approved, but with that which suited best the exigencies of the time; and he had to bear the blame for action to which he unwillingly consented. It is the hardest lot for the statesman, because it is that which his enemies impute as a crime, and for which his friends can only offer an apology.

Whatever the injury to national dignity, the transaction not only gave substantial pecuniary relief, but it seemed to promise, for the time, a secure foreign alliance. The irritation on the side of France was allayed, and Louis abandoned that tone of offence against Clarendon, which he had repeatedly used to his ambassador, and which showed that he regarded the policy of the Chancellor as the most serious menace to his power. The cordiality between England and France was perhaps insecure, but it was cemented by their common interest in maintaining the independence of Portugal, and that, again, offered good prospects to the trading interest of England.

But, at home, Clarendon found his influence threatened by increasing virulence of intrigue, and by new scandals and dissensions at Court. To the world at large he was still the all-powerful Minister. Only a few months before, Dryden had poured out a poetical tribute, from that mint of flattery of which his expenditure was so lavish, and had told Clarendon that he and the King bounded the horizon of the universe to their country, and had compared his wise counsels to the rich perfumes of the East. Even Louis XIV. did not think it below his dignity to solicit the Chancellor's favour, and to be jealous of his power. But Clarendon was not blind to the influences that were undermining that power. Hitherto he and Southampton had managed Parliamentary affairs through a small knot of members of tried fidelity and experience. Such management called for wary and cautious treatment, if jealousy was not to be aroused amongst the Parliamentary ranks. The idea of government by an organized party in Parliament was as yet unknown to our political practice, and would not have met with any favour from Clarendon. To him a Minister was the servant of the King, and in no way the nominee of any Party. None the less the germs of the new system, all undiscerned by himself or his contemporaries, were developing during his Ministry. We have already seen the knot of courtiers who were held together chiefly by a common—although not clearly avowed—jealousy of the Chancellor. Ashley, Buckingham, Bristol, and Lauderdale, were the chief members of that confederacy; and they soon found means to introduce new instruments to help in working the Parliamentary machine. The most notable of these were Sir William Coventry, the son of Clarendon's old friend, Lord Chancellor Coventry, and Sir Henry Bennet, who is better known to history by the name of the Earl of Arlington, which was the title conferred upon him in 1672. [Footnote: He was created Baron Arlington in 1664.] The influence of these two in Parliament, as the accredited agents of the Court, began with the session of 1663, which opened on February 18th, and closed on July 27th. For William Coventry, Clarendon had a deep- rooted dislike, which was increased rather than lessened by Clarendon's respect for his father, and his good-will to his brother, Henry Coventry. [Footnote: Henry Coventry was the elder brother of Sir William. He had more than once been useful in embassies to Sweden, where he seems to have acquired some of the convivial habits of that country. Without his brother's wit, dexterity, or eloquence, he seems to have joined more than his frankness to a blustering manner.] William Coventry's was one of those "unconversable" natures which moved Clarendon's aversion. A sullen temper, a censorious habit, and a pride that led him to belittle all in which he was not chief agent, were precisely the traits of character which Clarendon distrusted and disliked. He admits Coventry's abilities, and gives him credit for being exempt from the degrading coarseness which was typical of the Court. His portrait is painted for us in a few sentences with all the consummate skill of the historian of the Rebellion.

"He was a sullen, ill-natured, proud man, whose ambition had no limits, nor could be contained within any. His parts were very good, if he had not thought them better than any other man's; and he had diligence and industry, which men of good parts are too often without…. He was without those vices which were too much in request, and which make men most unfit for business and the trust that cannot be separated from it."

Clarendon's genius for character-drawing never suffers him to paint even the portraits of his enemies all in black. [Footnote: Clarendon's prejudice against Coventry, however, in spite of the admission of his ability, was abnormally strong, and we shall find reason later to doubt whether Clarendon did not in this case allow personal resentment to blind him to some of Coventry's merits.] Such was his conception of the man who now became Secretary to the Duke of York, and an active centre of intrigue.

Sir Henry Bennet was a foeman of another kind. It was during the period of exile that he had managed to ingratiate himself with Charles, and their subsequent intimacy was coloured by the scenes which they had once shared together. Bennet was the natural product of an exiled Court, forced to have recourse to shifts of no dignified kind, and breathing an atmosphere of cynicism and distrust. He knew nothing of, and cared, if possible, still less for, the Constitution or the laws of England. He was one of those who cultivated the friendship of Spain, with whose leading statesmen he had close relations, and who saw in that friendship a balance to the Portuguese alliance and the policy which Clarendon was believed to pursue. He had no Parliamentary talents, and entered Parliament for the first time during the session of 1663, But he was a pledged and trusted member of the little Court cabal, which was now determined to organize a party in Parliament to oppose the Chancellor's power. It became a part of their scheme to find a place for Bennet where he could exercise a distinct influence upon administration. The preliminary arrangements for this were made without the Chancellor's knowledge. That stout and faithful servant of the King, and sure friend of the Chancellor, Sir Edward Nicholas, was now feeling the weight of years. His ample experience and tried fidelity weighed for nothing in the minds of the Court clique, who desired his place for Bennet. The King was easily persuaded to adopt the view that the Chancellor found, in two old and weak secretaries, conveniently subservient tools. Tempting terms were proposed to Nicholas. Suggestions were skilfully thrown out that he should quit his employment, receiving the ample provision of £10,000 in lieu of it, and also some notable token of the gratitude and respect of the King. It was only natural that the old man—whose memories of public service carried him back to the days when he had been amongst the followers of the Duke of Buckingham at the time of his assassination, nearly forty years before—should accept the proposal readily. How it seemed to Clarendon is best seen in his own words. "It cost the King, in present money and land on lease, very little less than twenty thousand pounds, to bring in a servant whom very few cared for, in place of an old servant whom everybody loved." [Footnote: Life, ii. 228.] The little faction who were intent upon their selfish plans for ousting the Chancellor recked very little of lavish expenditure. The same move that made the secretaryship of Nicholas vacant for Bennet, left Bennet's place of Privy Purse available for another of the new favourites and conspirators—Sir Charles Berkeley. [Footnote: Soon after created Earl of Falmouth.] Amongst the crowd of discredited and dishonest intriguers none was more vile or contemptible than he. In earlier days his character was too notorious to be tolerated even by Charles; but there were tricks and services, to which Berkeley made no scruple of stooping, and which served to secure, first the tolerance, and then the friendship, of the King. These changes in the official world were all menaces to Clarendon's power.