The case of Harrison was the most important. There is no doubt that he took an active part in bringing Charles to the block; yet he subsequently refused to assist Cromwell in his ambitions; he was imprisoned by Cromwell and deprived of his commission; on his release he retired to a private life, and refused to fly when the King returned. Brought before the Court, he made no attempt to deny the fact; on the contrary he gloried in it:—

“The act of which I stand accused was not a deed performed in a corner; the sound of it has gone forth to most nations; and, in the singular and marvellous conduct of it, has chiefly appeared the sovereign power of Heaven.... I have often, agitated by doubts, offered my addresses, with passionate tears, to the Divine Majesty, and earnestly sought for light and conviction. I still received assurances of a heavenly sanction, and returned from such devout supplications with tranquillity and satisfaction. These frequent illapses of the Divine Spirit I could not suspect to be interested illusions: since I was conscious that for no temporal advantage would I have offered injury to the poorest individual. All the allurements of ambition, all the terrors of imprisonment have not been able, during the usurpation of Cromwell, to shake my steady resolution or bend me to a compliance with that deceitful tyrant: and, when invited by him to sit on the right hand of the throne—when offered riches, splendour, and dominion, I have disdainfully rejected all temptations, and, neglecting the tears of my friends and family, have still, through every danger, held fast my principles and my integrity.”

He then refused to say more and submitted to the sentence of the Court. The scene of the execution was Charing Cross; the day, October the 14th, 1661. Evelyn met the carts carrying away the mangled quarters. “Oh!” he cried, “the miraculous providence of God!”


CHAPTER VI
THE REIGN

There is, perhaps, no time in the history of Great Britain of deeper interest and importance than that which witnessed the restoration and, later, the final expulsion of the Stuarts. We find the City at the outset weary of its Commonwealth, and longing for that security and order which are the best recommendations of a settled succession. And then the old business begins again. It seems as if the history of the last twenty years had been in vain, that the struggles and the victories had been forgotten.

I have here to recount only the part played by London between the years 1660 and 1688. Not, that is, the part played in London, otherwise we should have to consider nearly all the important events of the reign, which was passed almost entirely at Whitehall. In many cases it is difficult to decide between what belongs to London alone and what belongs to London and the country.

The execution of Venner and his men did not clear the City of dangerous elements. The Fifth Monarchy people and the Presbyterians exhorted each other to withstand the introduction of the Book of Common Prayer and the idolatry of the Court. Some of them refused to obey the law unless the spirit ordered them. The City was full of disbanded officers and men who were ready and anxious to take up arms again. The King complained that the night watch was unable to cope with these turbulent people, and ordered that only able men should be appointed, and that their watch should continue all night.

The Act of Uniformity of 1662 ordered every minister, if he would continue in his benefice, to assent to everything contained in the Book of Common Prayer. On Sunday, August 17, all the Presbyterians took leave of their congregations amid their tears and lamentations. Then persecution set in. It must be confessed that the language and action of some of the Nonconformists seemed to justify, in a certain measure, the rigours of the Government. For instance, the Baptists are said to have spoken openly of the King as the “Beast”; it was reported that Presbyterians and Baptists together were preparing to resist by force of arms; it must be remembered that these people represented the Roundheads of twenty years before. The Act of Uniformity, rigorously enforced, filled the prisons, made the Church of England hateful to the people, and drove hundreds away to America and to Holland.

In the same year an Act was passed for raising money for the paving of the streets of London by making every hackney coach—of which there were then four hundred—pay a tax of five pounds a year; every load of hay, sixpence; every load of straw, twopence. The Act provided especially for the paving of Hedge Lane (Whitcomb Street), from Petty France to St. James’s Palace, St. James’s Street, and Pall Mall. The paving was the old-fashioned round cobbles; before they were laid down the road was simply a trodden way, in the summer throwing up clouds of dust, in the winter knee-deep in mud. The Act further provided for the widening of certain ways and passages in the City. It is idle to ask if they were widened, because the Fire came a few years later and swept all away.