SIDE LIGHTS ENGLISH HISTORY E.F. HENDERSON r ubrary"^ I UMnotgrroF I I S«Af DTEGO \ :ss> ^V^.' A ^Iv^' W ■» ^f#i>,/ .^fcy A ^o//: "y^i- ^I^^W--' ! f^ LJ^- tJflB/fr, Jiowt iaemwulx,ne mtu he it , .So inlvniffif\g Big dks tcjfct Scurtzec tn armttScfmacf vnAspoC •Darimf mtnscfi ley sie aCictt Zu mei^en^jBefKngem Sereir . Kj^jite^eCdixrh ivt ({cm fcfirtreajmr I^Uc'iferf vruf seiner ^eseJ^n M \'S>er.'/TmTn/rrrie ntchCeiun i^unt , 1 3fifulir sifjtwrcsee in tt^raiic hen mef!'vf£e*tr "RrJoL^) JZan fie nit roC^ccStUiht merdai Zhi 'Dm xeiC, itl}^t,wt(c sem it weir (J jiitGon vmf Cua vn 'J'lVcufett , OFuf sie der E^ffeCGptts (rintitg j^ Vm eeman •V^fgHAn /kois (V\ J Mgrdt trieSen iJ(?fucttdhezauch- eries — his debts — his club life — the King's illness — his disordered mind — the rising sun — severe medical treatment — the struggle for authority — heartless conduct — the King is shaved — Dr. Willis — Pitt — the King's symptoms — the question of regency — partisan physicians — the Duchess of Gordon — an adventure with a maniac — signs of betterment — Miss Burney frighteneil — the Regency Bill put off — the King rapidly recovers — regency caps — acrimony of parties — the ball at Brookes's — the King's experiences while in bathing. Group XXX. The Death ok Nelson ..... 2S4-290 r^alse news about the French fleet — Nelson's impatience at Merton — Nelson himself again — his care for tlie new signal-code — the Nelson touch — news of the victory — experiences on board the Victory — England expects every man will do his duty — details of the conflict — at clf)se fpiarters — Nelson's wound — in the cock-pit Table of Contents xvii — affecting interview with Hardy — death in the arms of victory — the first wording of the signal. Group XXXI. The Battle of Waterloo .... 391-297 Welhngton's exultation — Bhicher to his wife — embraces Welling- ton — Blucher's account of Napoleon's escape — details of the battle by an otficer of the guards — Wellington the genius of the storm — his dress — the last onslaught — a pleasant interlude with the Prus- sians — a young officer's experiences — Gneisenau's point of view — Napoleon's diamonds — the greatness of the victory — heavy losses — the question of executing Napoleon — decided by Wel- lington — Gneisenau' s disappointment. Group XXXII. Ax American Minister at the Coi-rt ok London .......... 297-300 The charming old (^ueen — the glories of the plumes ami crino- lines — British beauty — an evening with the royal family — strange appeal to trial by combat in an English nineteenth century court of law. List of Illustrations 291 / o To Fack I'ac-.e Pkixce Alheut. Engraved lioiii tlic painting by I'aitridge . . 300 AxxE OF Dknmauk, wife of James I. Engraved by Houbraken . 35 Ax Aley of Qleen Axxe. Engraved bv Schenck . . . . 219 Ql^een Axxk. Engraved by J. Smith ...... 226 Augustus the Stroxg of Saxony. Engraved ])v R. \\'hite in 1697 217 Beucher. Engraved in iSi^ ........ 293 Heads of Beucher axd Wei.i.ixotox. From Booth" s Battle of Waterloo ........... George Vielieks, Duke of Bickingham. Anon. From Van der Werft's painting .......... Rebus ox Bute. Contemporary ....... 265 Ql'EEx Caroeixe. Contemporary ....... 246 Catherixe of Bragaxza, wife of Ciiaki.ks II. ICngraved bv Melaer ............ 143 Charles I. Engraved by Beckett from a painting by Van Dyck . 61 Charles I., with Charles II. Anon. From Van Dvck's painting 64 The Childrex of Chaulfs I. Modern engraving of Van Dvck's painting ........... S7 Charles II. Engraved 1)\ Brown in 1678 from Sir Peter Lely's painting 120 Charles II. of Spaix . . . . . . . . . 214 Charles III. of Spain (afterwards ICmperor Charles VI.). Engravetl by Wei gel ........... 2 16 The Emperor Charles VII. Engraved by Pfeffel .... 249 Charles XII. of Sweden. Engraved by Schenck . . . 220 QuEEX Ch.vrlotte. Engraved bv the Ryders in 1804 from the paint- ing bv Beechey . . . . . . . . . . 277 Oliver Cromwell. Engraved by M;izot (double page) ... 92 Oli\-er Cko.mwell. Probably by Schurt/, ...... 104 The Empress Elizabeth of Russia. Engraved by Stenglin . . 254 Qi'EEN Elizabeth. Engraved by Greatbach from an original painting i Elizabeth of Bohemia. Engraved by Delph from a painting of Miereveld's in 1623 ......... 51 Prince Eucjexe. Engraved by Vogel . . . . . . 224 The Empehor Fraxcis I. Engraved by Ph. A. Kilian . . . 253 Frederick the Fikst, Kixg of Pkusslv. Engraved by Weigel . 213 Frederick the Great. Engraved by Schlenen .... 253 Frederick the Great axd Peter III. makinc; peace . . . 2^6 Frederick, Coint Palatine. Engraved by Delph from a painting of Miereveld's in 1622 . . . . . . . . » 48 XX List of Illustrations George I. Engraved in 17 14 . George II. Anon. ........ George II. Ens^raved by Pfeffel ..... George III. as Prince of Wales. Engraved by McArdell George III. Engraved by Bcnj. Smith in 1S04 from the painting by Beechey ........ George IV. Anon. ....... Gneisenau. Engraved by Carl Mayer Henrietta Maria. Engraved by Schurtz in 1629 Iames I. Print of 1604 A. D. . King James and his Family. Later working over of original by Crispin de Passe ......... James II. Anon, contemporary ....... James III. (the Pretender). Engraved by Thomassin in 1702 The Seizure ok Judge Jeffries by the People. Modern repro duction of old print ...... The Emperor Joseph I. . Leibnitz. Engraved by Ficquet .... The Earl of Leicester. Anon, contemporaiy The Emperor Leopold. Engraved by le Pmitre Louis XIV. Engraved by George Kilian Louis XV. of France. Engraved by Petit from the painting by Vanloo Louis William of Baden. Engraved by C. Ileiss . The Empress Maria Theresia^ Engraved by Pfeffel The Duchess of Marlborough. Engraved by J. Smith The Duke of Marlborough, Engraved by Valk . Mary Qi'EEN of vScots. Engraved by Golz about 15S7 Mary Queen of Scots. Engraved by J. West Queen Mary. Anon, contemporary .... Qi'EEN Mary Beatrix. Anon, contemporary . Maximilian Emmanuel of Bavaria. Anon. . James Duke of Monmouth. Engraved by Picart in 1724 Napoleon before the Battle of Waterloo. Engrave picture by Goubaud painted during the hundred days Napoleon on the Island of St. Helena. From a lit Horace Vernet's painting ..... Nelson. Engraved in Italy in 1799 .... The Death of Nel.son ...... Peter the Great. Engraved by J. Smitli in 1697 . William Pitt. Anon, ...... Pit I MP II. Anon. Most probably contemporary Philip V. of Spain. Engraved by Hafner An illustrated news-leaf, contemporary, concerni\( ishment of the ricgicidks .... Prince Rupert. Anon. ,...., Slavata. Anon, contemporary ..... The Electress Sophia. Engraved by Schenck in 17 10 To Face Page 242 24S 272 274 62 40 33 162 199 Fro d from the lograph of riiK PIN 216 230 6 214 197 251 216 254 ntispiece 9 191 193 215 159 296 297 2S4 287 21S 278 2 21 1 121 S4 28 234 List of Illustrations XXI To Face I'age Ensriaved by SoiMiiE Charlotte, Electress of Bkandenbur(; Hainzclmann in 1689 ......... Sophia Dorothea, Daughter of George I. Engiaved by J. Smitli i" 1715 Thomas Eare of Strafford. Enij^iaved by K. W'liite from \'an Dyck's paintinoj .......... The Tea-Tax Tempest. An Allegorical represcntaticjn Wellington. Engraytd by Ficlker from Beechcy's painting William of Orange as a Boy. Engrayed by Crispin yan Qiieboorc-n William and Wary. Anon. ........ William of Orange (King William III.). Engraved by Jean Verkalje Prince William Henry (Later William IV.). Engrayed l)y Barto- lozzi from a painting by West King William IV. Anon. Queen Victoria. Anon, (about 1S40) The Christening of the Prince of Wales. Caricatures drawr in 1 84 1 239 243 79 270 292 205 208 iSi 29S 300 3rOO 300 t^UEKN KLIZABETH. (Kiiy 1 n 111 \<\ (jriMlbacli from tlu- original by \. Milliard.) SIDE LIGHTS ON ENGLISH HISTORY GROUP I. THE PERSONALITY OF QITEEX ELIZABETH. I . Extract from Sir Robert Naun- ton, " Fragmenta Regalia." (Printed together with Gary's Memoirs. Edin- burgh, iSoS.) . . . Her destiny had decreed to set her (Elizabeth) an apprentice in the school of affliction, and to draw her through the ordeal fire of trial, the better to mould and fashion her to uile and sovereignty : which finished, and Fortune calling to mind that the time of her servitude was expired, . . . de- livered up into her custody a sceptre, as a reward for her patience, which was about the twenty-sixth year of her age — a time in which (as for externals) she was full-blown ; so was she for her internals grown ripe and seasoned with adversity, and in the exercise of her virtue. . . . She was of personage tall, of hair and complexion fair, and therewith well-favored, but high-nosed, of limbs and feature neat, and, which added to the lustre of these exterior graces, of stately and majestic comportment, par- ticipating in this more of her father than mother, who was of an inferior allay [alloy?], plausible, or, as the French hath it, more debojiairc., and affable virtues which might well suite with majesty, and which descending, as hereditary to the daughter, did ren- der her of a more sweeter temper, and endeared her more to the love and lik- ing of the people, who gave her the name and fame of a most gracious and popular Prince ; the atrocity of her father's nature being rebated in hers, by the mother's sweeter inclina- tions. . . . 2. Answer of Elizabeth to the Speak- er of the House of Commons. i=^=;9« (In Camden, Life and Reign of Qiieen Elizabeth. Originally in Latin.) The Speaker had begged her, in the name of the Parliament, to " accept some match capable of supplying heirs to your royal virtues and dominions." . . . "I have made choice of such a state as is freest from the incumbrance of secular pursuits and gives me the most leisure for the service of God : and could the applications of the most potent princes, or the very hazard of my life, have diverted me from this purpose, I had long ago worn the hon- Elizabeth ors of a bride. These were my senti- ments when I was but a private per- son ; but now that the care and weight of a kingdom lies upon my shoulders, to add to these the incumbrance of the married state would be no point of dis- cretion in me : But that I may give you the best satisfaction I can, I have long since made choice of a husband, the Kingdom of England. And here," continues she, "is the pledge and em- blem of my marriage contract, which I wonder you should so soon have for- got." With that she shewed them her finger with the same gold ring upon it with which she had solemnly and form- ally betrothed herself to the Kingdom at her inauguration. After she had paused a little, " I beseech you," said she, "gentlemen, charge me not with the want of children, for as much as every one of you, and every Eng- lishman besides, are my children and relations. . . . Should it be my lot to continue as I am, a Virgin Qiieen, I doubt not but the providence of God, seconded by your counsels and my own measures, will so dispose matters as to put the question of a successor out of all debate. . . . For my own part, I desire no better character nor fairer remembrance of me to posterity than to have this inscription on my tomb when I come to pay my last debt to nature : ' Here lies I'21izabeth, who liv'd and died a Maiden-C^uecn.' " 3. Correspondence of Spanish En- vovs in London with Philip II. (From State Papers ; Spanish Series. ) Fcria to Pliilip II. Dec. 14, 155S. ... It gives me great trouble every time I write to your Majesty not to be able to send more pleasing intelligence, but what can be expected from a country governed by a Queen, and she a young lass, who, although sharp is without prudence, and is every day standing up against religion more openly ? The kingdom is entirely in the hands of young folks, heretics and traitors, and the Qi^ieen does not favor a single man whom her Majesty, who is now in Heaven, would have received, and will take no one into her service who served her sister when she was Lady Mary. On her way from the Tower to her house where she now is, she saw the Marquis of Northampton, who is ill with a quartan ague, at a window, and she stopped her palfrey and was for a long while asking him about his health in the most cordial way in the world. The only true reason for this was that he had been a great traitor to her sister. . . . She seems to me incompai-ably more feared than her sister, and gives her orders and has her way as abso- lutely as her father did. ... I am trying to get a chamber in the palace when she goes to Whitehall, although I am very much afraid they will not give me one ; . . . they are so suspi- cious of me that not a man amongst them dares to speak of me. . . . They are all very glad to be free of your Majesty, as if you had done harm instead of very much good. . . . Truly they run away from me as if I were the Devil. The best thing will be to get my foot into the palace, so as to speak oftener to the Qiieen, as she is a woman who is very fond of argument. Every- body thinks that she will not marry a foreigner and they cannot make out whom she favours, so that nearly every day some new cry is raised about a hus- band. . . . The most discreet people fear slic will marry for caprice. . . . I do not know which way the Qiieen is inclined, for on the one hand she complained to me of her sister's having married a foreigner, and on the other Li PHILIPPVS H.D.G.HISPANIARVM ET INDIARVM REX CATOLICVS, ARCH ID VX AVSTRI^. HBii'-^ .^ ■ — ■ — Elizabeth I see she is very vain and as much set against her sister as she was previous to her death. I fancy I can get at her through this feeling : . . . we must tell her that one of the reasons the Qjieen, now in heaven, disliked her was her fear that if she died your Majesty would marry her (Elizabeth), ... If she inclines to your Majesty it will be neces- sary for you to send me orders whether I am to carry it any further or throw cold water on it and set up the Arch- duke Ferdinand. . . . When I left oli that day I sent her by the Admiral's wife the two rings that your Majesty gave me which belonged to the late Qiieen, because as I saw she was so fond of her jewels I thought best to give her up even the poorest of them. ... I told her about the jewels which were in the box at Whitehall and said I would give her the key when I came. She accepted. I have heard also that the Qiieen, now in heaven, ordered in her will that the jewels given to her by your Majesty and the Emperor should be returned to you, and these people had concealed this and kept the jewels. Seeing this I thought best to say that your Majesty would be very pleased for her to have them if she w^anted them. . . . She is very fond of having things given to her, and her one theme is how poor she is. . . . Both times I have spoken with her have been in the pres- ence chamber crammed with people, and what with this and all these gifts, I think I never saw her so carried away as she was to-day. April I I, 1559. . . . After she had finished with the Portuguese, she called me to her and asked whether I had letters from your Majesty. I told her ves, and that on the next day I would give her any information she wanted about them, but that I could not do so then, as I was so angry with her and so annoyed. She . . . began to say she had heard your Majesty was married, smiling, saying your name was a fortunate one, and now and then giving little sighs which bordered upon laughter. I told her ... I could not rejoice to see your Majesty married to any one else but her. . . . To this she retorted that it was your Majesty's fault it had fallen through and not hers. . . . She . . . afterwards went on to say that your Majesty could not have been so much in love with her as I had said, as vou had not had patience to wait four months for her, and many things of the same sort, as if she was not at all pleased at the decision adopted by your Majesty. . . . Mav loth. What can be said here to vour Majesty is only that this countrv, after thirty years of a government such as your Majesty knows, has fallen into the hands of a woman who is a daughter of the Devil, and the greatest scoundrels and heretics in the land. (Exit Feria, Ed.] Bishop of A(] nil a to Philip. May 30th. . . . We [the queen and the bishop] continued at this for some time wasting words, and at last she said elie was re- solved not to marry except to a man of worth whom slie had seen and spoken to, and she asked whether I thought the Archduke Charles would come to this country that she might see him. ... I do not know whether she is jesting, which is quite possible, but 1 really be- lieve she would like to arrange for this visit in disguise. I turned it to a joke. . . . Robert [Dudley] is as highly fav- ored as usual. . . . I am not sure about her for I do not understand her. Amongst other qualities which she says her husband must possess is, that he should not sit at home all day amongst Elizabeth the cinders, but should in time of peace keep himself employed in warlike ex- ercises. July 27th. I have lost all hopes in the affairs of this woman. She is convinced of the soundness of her unstable power, and will onlv see her error when she is ir- retrievably lost. In religious matters she has been saturated ever since she was born in a bitter hatred to our faith, and her one object is to destroy it. If your Majesty were to give her life and all in it, as you did once before, she would never be more friendly than she is now, and she would, if she had the power, sow heresy broadcast in all your Majesty's dominions to-day, and set them ablaze without compunction. Besides this her language (learnt from Italian heretic friars who brought her up) is so shifty that it is the most diffi- cult thing in the world to negotiate with her. With her all is falseness and vanity. [Exit Aquila. — En.] Bishop Quadra to the Duchess of Parma, London, Sept. 11, 1560. Since writing, news of importance is current here which I convey to your Highness. . . . She (the C^ueen) had promised me an answer about the mar- riage by the third instant, and said she was certain to marry ; but now she coolly tells me she cannot make up her mind and will not marry. After this I had an opportunity of talking to Cecil [Lord Burleigh], who I understand was in disgrace and Robert [Dudley] was trving to turn him out of his place. After exacting many pledges of strict secrecy, he said the Qiieen was con- ducting herself in such a way that he thought of retiring. He said it was a bad sailor who did not enter port if he could when he saw a storm coming on, and he clearly foresaw the ruin of the realm through Robert's intimacy with the Qiieen, who surrendered all affairs to him and meant to marry him. He said ... he should ask leave to go home, although he thought they would cast him in the Tower first. He ended by begging me in God's name to point out to the Queen the effect of her mis- conduct, and persuade her not to aban- don business entirely but to look to her realm ; and then he repeated twice over to me that Lord Robert would be better in Paradise than here. . . . He ended by saving that Robert was thinking of killing his wife, who was publicly an- nounced to be ill, although she was quite well, and would take very good care they did not poison her. He said surely God would never allow such a wicked thing to be done. I ended the conversation by again expressing my sorrow without saying anything to compromise me, although I am sure he speaks the truth and is not acting crook- edly. . . . The next day the Qiieen told me as she returned from hunting that Robert's wife was dead, or nearly so, and asked me not to say anything about it. Certainly this business is most shameful and scandalous, and withal I am not sure whether she will marry the man at once or even if she will marry at all. Cecil says she wishes to do as her father did. Their quarrels cannot injure public business, as nobody worse than Cecil can be at the head of affairs, but the outcome of it all might be the imprisonment of the Qiieen and the proclamation of the Earl of Hunt- ingdon as King. . . . Cecil says he is the real heir of England, and all the heretics want him. . . . The cry is that they do not want any more women rulers, and this woman may find herself and her favourite in prison any morn- ing. . . . Since writing the above I hear the Qiieen has published the death of Rob- Elizabeth 5 ert's wife, and said, in Italian, " She broke her neck." She must have fallen down a staircase. Quadra to tJie King. Nov. 20th, 1560. . . . Cecil has given way to Robert, ^vho they say was married to the Qiieen in the presence of his brother and two ladies of the chamber. , . Jan. 22d, I ^61 . Since writing the enclosed letter Henry Sidney, who is the brother-in- law of Lord Robert, came to see me. He is a sensible man and better be- haved than any of the courtiers. He began by beating about the bush very widely, but at last came to his brother- in-law's affairs and said that as the matter was now public property, and I knew how much inclined the Qiieen was to the marriage, he wondered that I had not suggested to your Majesty this opportunity for gaining over Lord Robert by extending a hand to him now. ... I told him that what I liad so far heard of this matter was of such a character that I had hardly ventured to write two lines to your Majesty about it, nor had either the Qiieen or Lord Robert ever said a word to me that I could write. . . . He said that if I was satisfied about tlie death of Rob- ert's wife, he saw no other reason why I should hesitate to write the purport of this conversation to your Majesty, i»s, after all, although it was a love af- fair, yet the object of it was marriage, and that there was nothing illicit about it or such as could not be set right by your Majesty's authority. As regards the death of the wife, he was certain that it was accidental, and he had never been able to learn otherwise, although he had enquired with great care and knew that public opinion held the con- trary. I told him if what he said were true the evil was less, for, if murder had been committed, God would never help nor fail to punish so abominable a crime, whatever men itiight do to mend it, but that it would be difHcult for Lord Robert to make things appear as he represented tliem. He ansvvered it was quite true that no one believed it, and that even preachers in the pul- pits discoursed on the matter in a wav that was prejudicial to the honour and interests of the (^ueen. . . . He said the C^ueen would not mention the mat- ter to me iMiless I began the conversa- tion, but that I inight be siu^e that she desiretl nothing more than the counte- nance of your Majesty to conclude the match, and that Lord Robert would come to me and beg me to write to your Majesty what I heard from him. . . The above is exactly what passed, and for some days I had suspected that the Qjieen had some such idea, but as the business is altogether such a bad one, I did not venture to broach the subject. ... It is possible that if she finds herself unable to obtain your Maj- esty's favour, she may throw herself to the bad. . . Things have reached such a pitch that her chamberlain has left her, and Axele of the Privy Chamber is in prison for having babbled. . . He (Robert) begged me to speak to the Qjieen at once. I did so two days afterwards. . . . After much circum- locution she said she wished to confess to me and tell me her secret in confes- sion, which was that she was no angel, and did not deny that she had some affection for Lord Robert for the many good qualities he possessed, but she had certainly never decided to marry him or any one else. . . . Philip II. to Quadra. March 17th, 1561. . . . Try also to lead the matter on to a more solid basis, as for instance by bringing the C^ueen and Lord Rob- Elizabeth ert into it, and getting in writing and signed by her whatever the Qiieen may wish to be proposed to you. This is necessary, as her words are so little to be depended upon, and you know by experience you have had of her that this is always the course she pursues wiien she has no intention of fulfilling what she says, and only wishes to use our authority for her own designs and intentions. . . . ^uadi-a to Philip. Time 30th. . . . Onthedayof St. JohntheQiieen ordered me to be invited to a feast given by Lord Robert. ... In the afternoon we went on board a vessel from which we were to see the rejoicings, and she, Robert and I being alone on the gal- lery, they began joking, which she likes to do much better than talking about business. They went so far with their jokes that Lord Robert told her that, if she liked, I could be the minister to perform the act of marriage, and she, nothing loth to hear it, said she was not sure whether I knew enough Eng- lish. I let them jest for a time, but at last spoke to them in earnest, and told them that if they listened to me they could extricate themselves from the tyr- anny of the councillors who had taken possession of the Qiicen and her affairs. ... If they did this they could effect the marriage they spoke of. . . . As things were I did not think the Qjieen would be able to marry except when and whom Cecil and his friends might please. . . . iit(ziiia)i lie Siiva to J'i/ilip //. Oct. 2d, 1564. . . . On Michaelmas day, with the usual ceremony, here the C^ueen created Lord Robert, Baron and Earl of Leices- ter, which they say is a title usually given to the second sons of the Kings of England. . . . 4. A Visit to Cambridge in 1564. (From a pamphlet entitled '" The Tri- umph of the Muses, or The Grand Reception and Entertainment of Qiieen Elizabeth at Cambridge.") . . . Then came the Trumpetters, and, by solemn blast, declared her Majestie to approach. Then followed the Lords in their order and degree. Her almoner, the Bishop of Rochester, bareheaded, with the Bishop of Ely. Then the Garter King at Arms, in his royal cote ; with divers Sergeants at Arms. Tiien the Lord Hunsdon with the sword, in a royal scabbard of gold- smith's work. And, after him, the Qiieen' s Majestie (with a great com- panie of ladies and maids of honour). . . . And so she was brought among the Doctors ; when all the Lords and Ladies did forsake their horses ; and her Majestie only remained on horse- back. She was dressed in a gown of black velvet pinked : a call upon her head, set with pearles and pretious stones ; a hat that was spangled with gold and a bush of feathers. . . . When the Qiieen' s INIajestie came to the west doore of the church. Sir William Cecyl kneeled down and wel- comed her Grace, shewing unto her the order of the doctors. And the Bedells, kneeling, kissed their staves ; and so delivered them to Mr. Secretary ; who likewise kissed the same, and so deliv- ered them to the Qiieen' s hands; who could not well hold them all. And her Grace gently and merrily re-deliv- ered them, willing him and other mag- istrates of the L^niversity to minister justice uprightly, as she trusted they did. Or she would take them into her own hands, and see to it. Adding that, although the Chancellor did hault (for his leg was sore, as is before men- tioned), yet she trusted that Justice did not hault. . . . RVPERTVS DVDLi^VS COM. LICE- IJVDLMX ComxB^ LiCESTIU, en, a^a ^PEnri, lA/L^nanimt wonwius JXIafHi altmuw^ crafr Elizabeth Then Mr. William Master, of the King's College, orator, making his three curtesies, kneeled down upon the first greese or step of the west door (which was, on the walls outward, covered with verses) and made his oration, of length almost half an hour. . . . First he praised and commended manv and singular virtues set and planted in her Majesty. Which her Highness not acknowledging of she shaked her head, bit her lips and her fingers; and sometimes broke forth into passion and these words, " Xon est Veritas, et utinam " . . . Then she alighted from her horse and asking of what degree every doctor was : offered her hand to be kissed. . . . And as she went, she " thanked God that had sent her to this University, where she, altogether against her ex- pectation, was so received that, she thought, she could not be better." 5. A Visit to Oxford in 1566. (From John Bereblock's Commentary. In Plummer's Elizabethan Oxford. Ox- ford, 18S7. Editor's trattslat/on from the I^atin.) On the last day of August, the brightest that we remember in our whole lives, — it was a w'onderfully clear Saturday, — her royal Majesty, coming from Woodstock, directed her way with a large train of attendants towards Oxford. The Earl of Leices- ter had previously come with his suite to add the weight of his dignity and office in preparing the town for the intended function and to receive with us her royal Majesty. On this day, accompanied by some of the doctors in their purple gowns and also by some of the heads of the colleges (who, in consideration of their more exalted rank, drove in carriages, wearing the appropriate robes of their own facul- ties), he went out to meet the Sov- ereign. . . . Having proceeded two miles from the town (to the line where our jurisdiction ends) they greeted the most serene monarch with a felicitous and eloquent oration, which Marbeck delivered in tlieir name and in that of the whole university. Then they moved towards Oxford, the peasants and farm- ers running out from the villages and settlements to greet her, their shouts and cheers making the hills and dales ring with the roval name and might. Nor does it seem beneath our regard for the royal dignity to tell in what rank and order the different men marched. . . . First came the Aca- demic lictors with their golden staves, to show the way, as it were. Then followed the noblest princes, in high good spirits, adorned to the last degree with royal magnificence — among them those men of supreme rank, the Earl of Leicester, the Chancellor of the Uni- versity and the Mayor of the town. Then the royal lictors, in magnificent array, preceding the monarch with huge maces ; just behind them the Earl of Sussex bore the sword, resplendent with its jewelled hilt, its golden belt and its embossed scabbard. Then at a short distance, at a slow and noble pace, followed the most august mon- arch borne along on a raised golden throne. Her palanquin was open on all sides, being carried by distinguished knights clad in purple and advancing with measured steps. Lest the curious may ask in vain about her raiment, she had on the top of her head a little net sparkling with spun gold, with drops and pearls. Then her dress of state, a woman's toga of silk, was of richest purple shining with threads of gold. Her outer garment was similar, of scarlet tinged with purple, with a fur lining of dazzling: whiteness and marked with 8 Elizabeth black spots, such as might have been worn in a triumph. Nor ought I to pass over here what the most illustrious queen, with the ut- most grace and suavity, did towards the end of our [oratorical] contest. For with the utmost condescension, lest by the harsh proof of her silence she might have seemed to scorn and despise our efforts, she looked round on the assem- bly and began with incredible facility [in Latin] to make an address which thrilled the souls of all. . . . Womanly timidity and modesty made her at first hesitate and appear dithdent. She seemed to blush with maidenly shame from this display of her age and her learning, and to shrink with a certain ingenuous bashfulness from the task of speaking. But it was wonderful to see how the unutterable love of all of us affected her reluctance. For so did the whole assembly hang with eager hope and expectation on her lips and dis- course that she was urged on, strength- ened and reassured in mind, and de- livered before us an oration in about these words : — She was listened to by all in silence and with rapt attention, but was after- wards greeted with the wildest cheers and blessings. The walls, and even the windows and benches, seemed to resountl deafeningly with the voices of our men, and our words to come back to us more distinctly than we had uttered them. The next day, Fridav, dawned for us more calamitously than the preced- ing ones. For even as, previously, the coming of our Sovereign had wonder- fully delighted us, so, this day, her sudden tleparture the more grievously afllicted us. But we were obliged to bring our minds to it, for so had hard fate previously arranged and or- dained. . . . She, meanwhile, sad and mournful, mingled her own grief with ours. She seemed to feel this parting very much and to bewail her lot as she rode along. She is said to have bitterly regretted leaving us before she had visited any of the colleges or heard a sermon by one of our divines. They say that never before had she been so sad at ending a visit as now at leaving our town. With protestations to this effect, and often looking at us most graciously, she passed through the Eastern gate and Magdalen College and came to the con- fines of the university. Here once more Marbeck told her how pleasant in itself, and what a boon to the uni- versity her presence had been, how much more eager it would make us all in our studies, how it would spur us on, what a spark it had ignited. He thanked her most profusely in the name of all. After which speech the differ- ent doctors prostrated themselves at her feet. . . . She graciously raised them and gave them her right hand to kiss. . . . 6. Extract from the Report of the French Envoy, Chateauneuf, to his King. In Teulet Papiers d' JEtat^ Vol. n. p. S07, 15S6. Translated. . . . Tlie said lady, to speak of her peculiar characteristics, is a very pru- dent and accomplished princess who has been very well brought up. She plays all sorts of instruments, speaks several languages, and even Latin, very well, is intelligent and quick-witted, a woman with a deep sense of justice, in no way tyrannizing over her subjects, and who was beautiful when she was young. Besides all this a great man- ager and almost miserly, very high and (|uick tempered, and, above all, excess- ively jealous of her position. Elizabeth On lier coming to the tin one she made much use in public affairs of Mr, William Cecil, her Secretary of State, whom she afterwards made Lord Bur- leigh and Grand Treasurer of England. He was still living when I arrived in the said kingdom ; a wise, prudent, pacific and thrifty man, with a clear and acute mind — a man who can say with truth that he has been a splendid servant, as indeed his mistress has always placed great confulencc in him. She has had Lord Dudlev, later I'Zarl of Leicester, whom she lias alwavs greatly loved since she was young, and indeed he was a very handsome gentle- man, honorable and courteous; and at the time of my arrival he was about fifty three or four years old and had grown very rotund. These two men are the ones who duriuir the whole of her reign have had most influence with her ; and in fact 1 believe that tiie man in all the world she came nearest to marrying was this Eail of Leicester, iiaving had a wonderful affection for him which she lierself did not conceal. And although, as 1 have said, she had been sought by many great princes, like our three dauphins, by Archduke Charles, brother of the late Emperor Maximilian, by the King of Sweden, it is the said Earl of Leicester who came nearest to marrying her. However, the said lady having made up her mind not to marry at all, she has greatlv ele- vated him and all his relatives ; so much so that at the time of my arrival he might have been called the first man in England after the said ladv. [This was 2 2 years after llie scene on ship- board. — Ed.] GROUP n. THE EXECl'TIOX OF MAUV (^IKEX OF SCOTS. I. Extract from Sir James Melville's ^Memoirs (Pul)l. l^annatvne Club, 1S27, p. 35t ff.). Spelling modernized. 1586. . . . New they that were enemies to our Qiieen and King's [Mary and James VL] title to the right of the crown of England, seeing some of their fetches to fail them, entered in deliber- ation what way to proceed in the taking of the Qiieen's life. Sometimes they minded to give her an Italian posset [powder], sometimes to slay her at the hunting in a park, but at length, by way of an assize, to convict her. . . . All their calumnies and false accusa- tions being presented in writing imto the Qiieen of England, her heart would not suffer her, as she alleged, to let any sentence be given forth against the Qiieen, her dear sister and cousin, so near of her roval blood, until the coun- cil, nobility and estates, at least such as were seduced to that effect, sat down upon their knees, humbly requesting her Majesty to have compassion upon their unsure estate, albeit she cared not for her own, by the practices of the Queen of Scotland. Whereby she was at length movetl, for very pity of them, to give forth the sentence of death upon the Qiieen, with condition that it sliould rather serve to be a fear and terror unto her, to cause her to cease from making any more practices, than that slie would see the blood of so noble a princess to be shed. And in the '.neantime the written sentence was given in keeping to Mister Davison, one of her secretaries, and not to be delivered without her Majesty's express command. lO Elizabeth Nevertheless, the said Davison being desired by the council, afterwards de- livered unto them the said written sen- tence of death. Whereupon they gave the Qiieen warning a night before, to prepare her for God. . . . 2. Extracts from Letters of Qiieen Elizabeth to King James of Scotland, (Publ. by Camden Society, 1S49.) January, 15S6-7. . . . You may see whether I keep the serpent that poisons me when they confess to have reward [.v/c]. By- saving of her life they would have had mine. Do I not make myself, trow ye, a goodly prey for every wretch to de- vour? Transfigure yourself into my state, and suppose what you ought to do, and thereafter weigh my life and reject the care of murder, and shun all baits that may untie our amities, and let all men know that princes know best their own laws, and misjudge not that you know not. . . . Feb. I, 15S6-7. . . . They will make [out] that her life may be saved, and mine safe ; which would God were true, for when you make view of my long danger endured these four — well nigh five months, . . . the greatest wits . . . will grant with me that if need were not more than my malice, she should not have her merit. And now for a good conclusion of my long-tarried-for answer. Your commissioners tell me that I may trust her in the liand of some indifferent prince, antl have all her cousins and allies promise she will no more seek mv ruin. Dear ])rother and cousin, weigh in true unt] equal l)alance whether they lack not nuich good ground when such stuff serves for their building. Suppose you I am so mad to trust my life in another's hand and send it out of my own? . . . OKI Master Melvin hath years enough to teach him more wisdom than tell a prince of any judg- ment such a contrarious, frivolous, maimed reason. Let your councillors, for your honor, discharge their duty so much to you as to declare the absurdity of such an offer. . . . Though like a most natural, good son you charged them to seek all means they could devise with wit or judgment to save her life, yet I cannot, nor do not, allege any fault to you of these persuasions. ... I doubt not but your wisdom will excuse my need . . . and not accuse me either of malice or of hate. . . . 3. Extract from the Journal of Bour- going, Mary's body physician. (Chan- telauze : Marie Stuart, pp. 571 ff.) Translated fro7n the FrettcJi. Monday the sixth of February the dean of Peterborough and some others came to dine with Sir Amyas [Mary's jailor]. After dinner Mr. Beale arrived at the apartment all alone, remained closeted with Sir Amyas and then returned to the village. Tuesday, Feb. 7th, several came, one of whom we think was the sheriff, and dined with Sir Amyas. After din- ner the Earl of Kent, and last of all Mr. de Shrewesbury. At their coming we were in a great state of distraction and fear, having during the past three davs fancied that many things boded ill for her Majesty in her straits, and sus- pecting that surely the blow was about to fall. They sent word to her Majesty that they wished to speak to her, and she answered that she was in bed, but that if it was an urgent matter she would ask for a little time in which to rise and dress. Having been told that it was an affair of importance her Majesty pre- pared to receive them in her room, seated in her chair at the foot of her Elizabeth 1 1 bed ; and when the said two Earls had come, together with Mr. Beale and Mr. Paulet and Sir Dru Drury, the Earl of Shreweshury uncovering his head — while all the rest standing together did not uncover themselves during the whole time they were talking to her — commenced by saying that the Qjieen of England liail sent them to her, in her own name and that of her Estates, to inform her that having proceeded, as she knew, honorably and as expe- diency demanded in her affair, she having been accused, found guilty and condemned, as she knew and as the Qiieen had taken care she should be informed, she should hear read her sentence which he and the Earl of Kent together with Mr. Beale hatl been appointed to carry out, as she should hear. Thereupon said Beale commenced to read it, written on parchment w^ith the great seal of England appended, and in it her Majesty was called Mary Stuart, daughter of James V., otherwise known as Qiieen of Scots and Dowager of France. When this had been reatl her Majesty, very firmly and without emotion, re- plied that she thanked them for such agreeable news ; that they were doing her a great benefit in removing her from this world, whence she was well content to go on account of the misery she saw there, and she herself having had continual sorrow and being of ser- vice or profit to no one. She had long expected wliat had now hap- pened, and had onlv been waiting for it from day to day for eighteen years. Unworthy as she considered herself she was, by the grace of God, a queen, a born and anointed queen, a near rela- tive of the Qiieen of England, granil- daughter of King Henry VII., and she had enjoyed the honor of being (^ucen of France. But in all her life she had experienced nothing but evil, and she was very happy that it had pleased God to remove her from so many ills and afflictions, very ready and content to die and shed her blood in the cause of Almighty God her Saviour and Creator and of the Catholic Church, and for the maintenance of the law of this country. For such maintenance she protested that she had alwa}s done her utmost, loving the Qiieen, her good sister, and the Island as dearly as she did herself ; as she had often shown bv offering to take such measures that evervthing would turn out well, . . . in which endeavor she had always been rebuffed and repulsed and held prisoner without having merited it ; having come of her own free will to this country and trusting in the prom- ise of the Queen of England, with whom she could have come to an agreement and taken measures that would have been mutually satisfactory had she only one single time been allowed to speak to her. Finally after many words her Majesty protested, and swore on the Bible that she had upon her person, or at least on the Catholic new Testament that she had in English, that she had never attempted nor sought the life of the Qiieen nor of any other person whatever. She was told in replv that this Bible was a papistical version and that they could not take it into account. She was offered the dean of Peter- borough, one of the most learnetl men in I2urope, who would give her conso- lation and talk to her about her salva- tion and about which was the true religion ; that she had always remained fast bound in what she had learned in her vtiuth, and this chiefiv because she had had no one to tell her the truth. It was time, now that she had so few hours to live, for her to think of licr conscience and recognize the true 12 Elizabeth religion, and she should not hold any longer to these follies and abominations of papistry. Her Majesty answered . . . that she had heard and read the most learned men not only in the Cath- olic but also in the Protestant religion ; . . . that she had found no edification, but, having lived thus far in the true religion it was no time to change; now was the hour for remaining firm and constant as she intended doing. Rather than falter she would lose ten thousand lives if she had them, and, if possible, shed all her blood several times and endure all the cruelest torments they could invent ; finally, in order to con- sole her and the better prepare her for death that they should let her see her priest, none other would she have. . . . Finally, being constantly urged to hear the minister, her Majesty asked when she would have to die. The reply was the next dav, "about eight o'clock in the morning." . . . After supper her Majesty sent for all her servants, urged them to live in charity with each other, and, after a long harangue, took leave of them, granting them pardon for every- thing. . . . In the night, after having lain down with her clotlies on for several hours, she put her last wishes into writmg as fully as she could in the time at her command, arranged about her furni- ture and about the journev of her ser- vants, and gave each one his or her money as she thought right. . . . 4. Letter of Mary to her brother-in- law, Henry HI. of France. Written at two o'clock on the morning of the execution. (Chantelauze, p. 397.) Translation. My brother-in-law : Having come with God's permission, on account of my sins I suppose, to throw myself in- to the arms of this cjueen, my cousin, where I have passed more than twenty vears constantly beset by annoyances, I have at last, by her and her Estates, been condemned to death. Having asked for my papers, which they had taken away, in order to make my will, I have received back nothing that was of any use. And they would grant me neither leave to make a new will nor my request that after my death my body might be trans- ported to your kingdom, where I have had the honor of being queen, your sister and former ally. To-day, after dinner, they have pronounced to me my sentence without longer respite : that to- morrow, at seven o'clock in the morn- ing, I should be executed like a criminal. I have had no time to draw up a full account of all that happened ; but, if it will please you to believe my physician (Bourgoing) and these other bereaved servitors of mine you will know what the truth is, and that, thanks to God, I scorn death and resolutely protest that I am suffering it free from all crime, even though I were their subject, which I never will be. The Catholic religion and the maintenance of the right that God has given me to this crown : these are the two points of my condemnation. And yet they will not permit me to say that it is for the Catholic religion 1 am dying, but aver it is for fear I shall change theirs. Consequently they have removed mv almoner, whom, although he is in the house, I have not been allowed to have confess me or shrive me at my death ; but they have been very persistent in trying to make me receive the consolation and doctrine of their minister whom they have brought for the purpose. The bearer of this ( Rourgoing) and his companions, who are mostly your subjects, will bear wit- ness how I comport mvself in this my last act. It remains for me to suppli- cate you, as most Christian king, my brothei-in-law, friend, allv and one who Elizabeth 13 has so done me the honor of loving nie and protesting that love, that on the occasion of this blow you will give proof in all these matters t>i your high- mindedness, by, on the one hand, through charity, relieving me of one weight up- on my conscience which I cannot throw off without you, namely, the recom- pensing of my bereaved servants and the continuing to them of their wages ; on the other, by causing pravcrs to be made to God for a queen who has been called most Christian, and who dies a Catholic and bereft of all her means. As to my son, I recommend him to \ou according to his merits, for I cannot answer for him ; but with regard to my servitors I beg it of you with locked hands. I make so bold as to send you two rare health stones, trusting that yours mav be perfect and that your life may be long and happy. You will accept them as coming from your very devoted sister-in-law, who dies bearing testimonv of the sincerity of her heart towards vou. I will draw up a memo- randum for you with regard to my servants, and in what concerns my soul you will be pleased to see to it that a part is paid out of what you owe me, and that in honor of Jesus Christ, to whom at my death to-morrow I shall pray for you, enough will be left to establish yearly masses and to dispense the necessary alms. Wednesday, two hours past midnight. Your verv affectionate, good sister, Mauv. 5. Letter of R. Wynkfield to Lord Burleigh. (In Dack : Trial, Execu- tion and Death of Mary Qiieen of Scots. Northampton, 1SS9, p. i ff. Spelling modernized and construction occasion- ally simplified.) Feb. Sth, 15S6. (Counts the New Year as beginning March 25.) It being certified on the 6th of Feb- ruarv last to the (^ueen of Scots by the Right Honorable Earl of Kent, the Earl of Shrewesbury, and also by Sir Amyas Paulett and Sir Dru Drury, her governors, that she was to prepare her- self to die the eighth of February then next coming, she, seemi:'g not to be in any terror, by aught that appeared from any outward gesture or behavior, of how ihey were planning that she should die, but rather with smiling cheer and pleasant countenance di- gested and accepted the said admoni- tion of preparing for Paradise. . . . The said Sth of February came and the time and place appointed for the execution as aforesaid of the C^ueen of Scots. She was of stature tall and bodv corpulent, round-shouldered, her face fat and broad, double-chinned and with hazel eyes, her borrowed hair au- l)urn. Her attire was this: on her head she had a dressing of lawn edged with bone lace, a pomander chain and an Agnus Dei about her neck, a cruci- fix in her hand, a pair of beads at her girdle with a golden cross at the end of them, a veil of lawn fastened to her cowl bowed out with wire and edged round about with bone lace. Her gown was of black satin, printed, with a train and long sleeves to the ground set with acorn buttons of jet trimmed with pearls, and short sleeves of black satin cut with a pair of sleeves of pur- ple velvet whole under them. Her kirtle was whole of fine figured black satin ; the upper bodice of her petti- coat unlaced in the back, of crimson velvet ; her shoes of Spanish leather with the rough side outward ; a pair of green silk garters, her stockings of pale-blue colored worsted, clocked witli silver and edged on the tops with silver, and next her legs a pair of white Jersey hose. The C^ueen, thus apparelled, in a kind of jov, without any desire of de- ferring of matters or time, ileparted 14 Elizabeth her chamber and very willingly bended her steps towards the place of execu- tion, being gently carried out of her said chamber into an entry next out of the said great hall by two of Sir A. Paulett his chiefest gentlemen. Mr. Andrews, the high sheriff, went before her. In the entry the honorable Earl of Kent and the Earl of Shrewesbury, commissioners appointed by her Ma- jesty for the said execution, together with the two governors of her person, Sir A. Paulett and Sir Dru Drury and divers knights and gentlemen of good account did meet her, where one of the said Qiieen's servants, named Melville, kneeling on his knees to the said Qiieen, his mistress, wringing his hands and shedding of many tears, used then and there these words unto her, saying: " Madame, unhappy me! What man on earth was ever before the messenger of such important sor- row and heaviness as I shall be when I shall report that my good and gracious (^ueen and mistress is beheaded in Eng- land I " This said, tears prevented him of further speaking; whereupon the said Qjieen, pouring out of her dying tears, thus answered him : " My good friend, cease to lament, for thou hast cause rather to joy than to mourn ; for now shalt thou see Mary Stuart's troubles receive their long-expected end and determination : for (said she), good servant, all the world is but van- ity and subject still to more sorrow than a whole ocean of tears can be- wail. Hut I pray (slie said) thee carry this message from me, that I died a true woman to my religion and like a true woman of Scotland and France; but God forgive them (said she) that have long desired my end and thirsted for my blood as the Hart doth the water-brooks." . . . After this the said C^ucen, being sup- ported by Sir A. Paulett and two gen- tlemen as aforesaid, Melville carrying up her train, being accompanied by the Earl of Kent and gentlemen and the Sheriff going before her as aforesaid, passed out of the entry into a hall within the said Castle of Fotheringay before mentioned, with a countenance unappalled then and there made for her death, stepped up to the scaffold in the said hall, being two foot high and twelve broad, with rails round about it hanged and covered with black. Then having the stool brought her she sat down, and on the right hand of her stood the Earl of Kent and the Earl of Shrewesbury, on the left hand Mr. An- drews the Sheriff ; and opposite against her stood the two executioners, and round about the rails of the Scaffold stood Knights, gents and others ; then silence being made the Queen Maj- esty's commission for the execution was read. During the reading of which said commission the said Queen was very silent, listening to it with so care- less a regard as though it had not con- cerned her at all. Nay, rather, with so merry and cheerful a countenance as if it had been a pardon from her Maj- esty for her life. . . . Then the two executioners kneeled down unto her and desired her to for- give them her death. She answered, " I forgive you with all my heart, for I hope that this death shall give me an end to all my troubles." Then they, with her two women, helping her up began to disrobe her ; and then she laid the crucifix upon the stool and one of the executioners took from her neck the Ag->ins Dei. And then she began to lay hold on it, saying she would give it to some of her women, and withal told the executioner he should have money for it. Then she suffered him, with her two women, to take off her chain of pomander beads and all her other apparel, and that with a kind of glad- Elizabeth 15 ness ; and smiling she began to make herself unready, putting on a pair of sleeves with her own hands which the executioner rudely had before put off, and that with such speed as if she had longed to be gone out of the world. During all these actions of disrobing of the said (^ueen she never altered her countenance, l)ut, smiling as it were, said she never had such grooms before to make her unready, nor ever did put off her clothes before such a company. At length, she being untired of such of her attire and apparel as was conven- ient, saving her petticoat and kirtlc, her two women, looking upon her, l)urst out into a very great and pitiful weep- ing, crying and lamenting ; and when their crying and shrieking began to tle- cline they crossed themselves and prayed in Latin. Then the said Qiieen, turning her- self unto them and seeing them in such a lamentable and mournful plight, em- braced them and said these words in French, crossing them and kissing them, '"You ought rather to pray for me and not to be so mournful, for (said she) this day I trust shall end ^our mistress's troubles." Then with a smiling countenance she turned herself to her men-servants, Melville and the rest standing upon a bench near unto the scaffold, who were for some time crying out aloud and continually cross- ing themselves and praying in Latin, — and the said Qiieen turned unto them and did herself likewise cross them and bid them farewell, and prayed them to pray for her even unto the last hour. This done, one of her women having a Corpus Christi cloth lapped it up three-cornered ways, and kissed it and put it over the face of her Qiieen and mistress and pinned it fast upon the crown of her head. Then the two women mournfully departed from her. And then the said Qiieen kneeled down ; at which time, very resolute and with- out any token of fear of death, she spake aloud this psalm in Latin, " In te Domine confido ne confundar in eternum." Then groping for the block she laid down her head, putting her chain upon the block with both her hands, which holding there still they had been cut off had thcv not been es- pied. Then she laid herself upon the block most ciuietly and stretched out her arms and legs and cried out, "• In manus tuas Domini," three or four times. And at the last, while one of the executioners held her slighth' with one of his hands, the other gave two strokes with an axe before he did cut off her head and yet left a little gristle behind ; at which time she made very small noise and stirred not any part of herself from the place where she lay. Then the executioner that cut off her head lifted it up and bade God save the Qiieen. Then her dressing of lawn fell from her head, which appeared as gray as if she had been 3.^ score years old, pawled [cut] very short, her face being in a moment so much altered from the form which she had when she was alive as few could remember her by her dead face. Her lips stiired up and down almost a quarter of an hour after her head was cut off. Then said Mr. Dean, " So perish all the Qiieen' s ene- mies ; " afterwards the Earl of Kent came to the dead body, and standing over it with a loud voice said likewise, '• Such an end happen to the Qiieen and the gospel's enemies." Then one of the executioners, plucking off her gar- ters, espied her little dog whicli was crept under her clothes, which would not be gotten forth but with force, and afterwards would not depart from the dead corpse but came and lay between her head and shoulders. — a tiling dili- gently noted. The same, dog, being imbrued in her blood, was carried away i6 Elizabeth and washed, as all things else were that had any blood unless those things that were burned. The executioners were sent away with money for their fees, not having anything that belonged unto her. Afterwards everyone was com- manded forth of the hall saving the sheriff and his men, who carried her up into a great chamber made ready for the surgeons to embalm her, and was embalmed. And thus I hope, my very good Lord (Burleigh), I have certified imto your Honor of all such actions, matters and circumstances as did proceed from her or any others at her death. Wherein I dare promise unto vour good Lord : if not in some better or worse words tlian were spoken I have somewhat mis- taken, in matters I have not any whit offended. I will not so justify my duty herein but that many things might well have been omitted as not worthy not- ing; yet because it is your Lordship's fault to desire to know all and so I have certified it, it is an offence pardonable. So resting at your Honor's farther commands, I take my leave this iitli of February, 1586(7). Your Honor's in all huinl)lc service to command, R. W'^ NKKIKI.I). 6. Letter of Qiieen Elizabeth to King James tiie Sixth, disavowing her having caused the execution of the C^ueen of Scots. (In Ellis, Original Letters. First Series; Vol.111, p. 22.) Mod- ernized spelling. I'el). 14, 15S6. My dear Brother, I would you knew (though not felt) the extreme dolor that overwhelms my mind, for that miserable accident which (far contrary to my meaning) hath befallen. I have now sent this kinsman of mine whom, ere now, it hath pleased vou to favor, to instruct vou trulv of tliat which is too irksome for my pen to tell you. I beseech you that as God and many more know how innocent I am in this case : so you will believe me, that if I had bid (directed) ought I would have bided bv it. I am not so base minded that fear of any living creature or prince should make me afraid to do that were just, or done, to deny the same. I am not of so base a lineage, nor carry so vile a mind. But, as not to disguise fits not a king, so will I never dissemble my actions, but cause them show even as I meant them. Thus assuring your- self of me, that as I know this was deserved, yet if I had meant it I would never l;iv it on other shoulders; no more will I not damnify my self, that thought it not. The circumstance it may please you to have of this bearer. And for your part, think you have not in the world a more loving kinswoman, nor a more dear friend than myself ; nor any that will watch more carefully to preserve you and your estate. And who shall otherwise persuade you, judge them more partial to others than }Ou. And thus in haste I leave to trouble you : beseeching God to send you a long reign. The 14th of Feb., 15S6. Your most assured loving sister and cousin, Elizab. R. 7. Extract from the Memoirs of Robert Gary [Edinburgh, iSoS], the Bearer of the above Letter. The next year (which was isS6) was the (^ueen of Scots' beheading, ... at which time (few or none in the court being willing to undertake that journey) her Majesty sent me to the King of Scots, to make known her innocence of her sister's death, with letters of credence from herself to assure all that I should afhim. 1 was w.iylaid in Scotland, if I had gone in, to have been murdered; but Klizabeth 17 the king's majesty, knowing the dis- position of his people [which he evi- dently did not share! I*2d.] and the fury they were in, sent to me to Ber- wick, to let me know that no power of his could warrant my life at that time ; therefore, to prevent further mischief, he would send me no convoy, but would send two of his counsel to the bound road to receive my letters, or what other message I had to deliver. . . . Sir George Hume and the master of IMelven met me at the bound road, where I delivered my message in writing, and my letters from the Queen to the King:. . . . S. Letter of James to Elizabeth (in Camden Soc. publication). March, 15S6-7. Madam and dearest sister, Whereas by your letter and bearer, Robert Cary, your servant and ambassador, you purge yourself of yon unhappy fact . As, on the one part, considering your rank and sex, consanguinity and long- professed goodwill to the defunct, to- gether with your many and solemn attestations of your innocency, I dare not wrong you so far as not to judge honorably of your unspotted part there- in ; so, on the other side, I wish that your honorable behaviour in all times hereafter may fully persuade the whole world of the same. And, as for my part, I look that you will give me at this time such a full satisfaction [he later accepted a pension. Ed.] as shall be a means to strengthen and vmite this isle. . . . 9. Letter of Elizabeth to James. May, 1588. My pen, my dear brother, hath re- mained so long dry as [that] -I suppose it hardly would have taken ink again, but, mollified bv the good justice that you have been pleased to execute, to- gether with the large assurance that your words have given to some of my min- isters : Which all doth make me ready to drink most zvillingly a large draught of the river of Letlie^ never minding to think of unkindness. . . . God the searcher of all hearts ever so have misericord of my soul as my in- nocency in that matter deserveth, and no otherwise ; which invocation were too dangerous for a guilty conscience. . . . You may the more soundly trust my vows, for never yet were they stained, neither will I make you the first on whom I shall bestow imtruth, which God will not suffer me live unto. 10. Extract from Wilson : Life and Reign of James L (In Kenneth, Vol. IL p. 6S9.) And now the King [James has be- come King of England] casts his thoughts towards Peterborough, where his mother lay, whoin he caused to be translated to a magnificent tomb at Westminster, and (somewhat suitable to her mind when she was living) she had a translucent passage in the night through the city of London by multi- tudes of torches ; the tapers placed by the tomb and the altar in the cathedral smoking with them like an offertory ; with all the ceremonies and voices their choirs and copes could express ; at- tended by many prelates and nobles who paid this last tribute to her memory. This w^as accounted a piaculous action of the King's by many; though some have not stuck to say that, as Qiieen Elizabeth was willing to be rid of the Qiieen of Scots, yet would not have it of her action ; and being it could not be done without her command, when it was done she renounced her own act. So, though the King was angry when he heard his mother was taken away by i8 Elizabeth a violent death, recalling his ambassa- dor, threatening war and making a great noise, which was after calmed and closed up with a large pension from the Qiieen, yet he might well enough be pleased that such a spirit was laid as might have conjured up three kingdoms against him. For Pat- rick Grey^ that the King sent to dis- suade ^iieen Elizabeth from taking a-vay his mother's life, tvas the great- est instrument to persuade her to it, distilling always into her this sen- tence, " Mortua non mordef (when she is dead she cannot bite). GROUP III. THK SPANISH AISMADA. (Front State Papers, Navy Records Society, i8g4.) 1. Letter o*^ Admiral Howard to Secretary Walsyngham. March 9th, 15S7-S. Sir : As I had made up my other letter. Captain Frobisher doth advertise me that he spake with two ships that came presently from Lisbon, who de- clared unto him that for certainty the King of Spain's fleet doth part from. Lisbon unto the Groyne the 15th of this month by their account. Sir, there is none that comes from Spain but brings this advertisement ; and if it be true, I am afraid it will not be helped when the time serveth. Surely this charge that her Majesty is at is either too much or too little ; and the stay that is made of Sir Francis Drake going out I am afraid will breed great peril. 2. Letter of Sir I'rancis Drake to the Council. March 30th. . . . My very good Lords, next under (iod's mighty j^rotection the ad- vantage and gain of time and place will be the only and chief means for our gooil ; wherein I most humlily be- seech your good Lordships to persevere as vou have began, for that with fifty sail of shipping we shall do more good upon their own coast, than a great many more will do here at home ; and the sooner we are gone, the better we shall be able to impeach them. There is come home, since the send- ing away of my last messenger, one bark whom I sent out as an espial, who confirmeth those intelligences whereof I have advertised your Lordships by him ; and that divers of those Biscayans are abroad upon that coast wearing English flags, whereof there are made in Lisbon tliree hundred with the red cross, which is a great presumption, proceeding of the haughtiness and pride of the Spaniard, and not to be tolerated bv any true, natural English heart. 3. Letter of Drake to the Queen. April 2Sth. Most gracious Sovereign : Sithence my last despatch of Mr. Stallenge to the court, I have three sundry ways received advertisements that the enemy continueth his preparations very might- ily. The first report cometh by a man of Dartmouth who very lately came from St. Malos, and saith that he heard it reported there by divers Frenchmen returned home from Spain overland, Elizabeth 19 that fifteen ships of that town, and as many at least of Rosco, besides many more of divers nations, are stayed there ; affirming that their fleet is in number between four and five hundred sail, ready furnished with seventy or eighty thousand soldiers and mariners ; and that for their better encouragement the wages of all the companies is ad- vanced. . . . 4. Letters of Howard to Walsynham. June 14th. . . . The opinion of Sir Francis Drake, Mr. Hawkyns, Mr. Frobiser and others that be men of greatest judg- ment and experience, as also my own concurring with them in the same, is that the surest way to meet with the Spanish fleet is upon their own coast, or in any harbour of their own, and there to defeat them. . . . Sir, we have endured these three days, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, an extreme continual storm. Myself, and four or five of the greatest ships, have ridden it out in the Sound, because we had no room in Catwater, for the lesser ships that were there ; nor betwixt the shore and the Island, because Sir Francis Drake, with four or five other ships did ride there. Mv- self and my company in these ships do continually tarry and lie aboard in all the storm, where we may compare that we have danced as Instil}^ as the gal- lantest dancers in the Court. Her Majesty may be sure, what false and villainous reports soever have been made of them, she hath the strongest ships that any prince in Christendom hath. . . . Sir, I must not omit to let you know how lovingly and kindly Sir Francis Drake beareth himself ; and also how dutifully to her Majesty's ser- vice and unto me, being in the place I am in ; which I pray you he may receive thanks for, by some private letter from you. . . . Howard to WalsyngJiam. July 6th. . . . Sir, I sent a fine Spanish cara- vel an eight days agone to the Groyne to learn intelligence, such a one as would not have been mistrusted ; but when she was fifty leagues away, this southerly wind forced her back again unto us. Therefore I pray you, if you hear or understand of any news or ad- vertisements by land, that I may hear of them from you with expedition. I have divided myself here into three parts, and yet we lie within sight one of another, so as, if any of us do dis- cover the Spanish fleet, we give notice thereof presently the one to the other, and thereupon repair and assemble to- gether. I myself do lie in the middle of the Channel, with the greatest force. Sir Francis Drake hath twenty ships and four or five pinnaces, which lie toward Ushant ; and ]Mr. Hawkyns, with as man}^ more, lieth towards Scilly. Thus are we fain to do, else with this wind they might pass by and we never the wiser. . . . But for my own part I cannot persuade myself but that their intent is for Ireland. Where there are so many doubts we must proceed by the likelier ways, and leave unto God to direct for the best. Ho-vard to WalsyiiohaDi. July 13th. ... I am verv sorry to perceive by vour letter tliat her Majesty doth think that we have not sufficiently sought to understand some certainty of the Span- ish fleet. Sir, we are here to small purpose for this great service, if that hath not been thought of. Both before my coming, by Sir Francis Drake, and since my coming there hath been no day but there hath been pinnaces, Spanish caravels, flyboats, and of all 20 Elizabeth sorts, sent out to discover there. . . . AVe have at this time four pinnaces on the coast of Spain. . . . God in his mercy keep us from sickness, for we fear that more than any hurt that the Spaniards will do this fleet, if the advertisements be true. . . . Hozvard to Walsyngham. July 2 I St. Sir : I will not trouble you with any long letter ; we are at this present otherwise occupied than with writing. Upon Friday, at Plymouth, I received intelligence that there were a great number of ships descried off of the Lizard, whereupon, although the wind was very scant, we first warped out of harbour that night, and upon Saturday turned out very hardly, the wind being at southwest ; and about three of the clock in the afternoon descried the Spanish fleet, and did what we could to work for the wind, which by this morning we had recovered, descrying their fleet to consist of i 20 sail, whereof there are 4 galeasses and many ships of great Inirden. At nine of the clock we gave them * fight, which continued until one. In this fight we made some of them to bear room to stop their leaks : notwith- standing we durst not adventure to put in among them, their fleet being so strong. Hut there shall be nothing either neglected or unhazardL-d that may work their overthrow. Sir, the captains in her Majesty's ships have behaved themselves most bravclv and like men hitherto, and I doubt not will continue, to their great commendation. And so, recommend- ing our good success to your godly prayers, I bid you heartily farewell. From aboard the Ark, thwart of Ply- mouth, the 2 1st of July, 15SS. Your very loving friend, C. IIOWAKI). Sir, the southerly wind that brought us back from the coast of Spain brought them out. God blessed us with turn- ing us back. Sir, for the love of God and our country, let us have with some speed some great shot sent us of all bigness ; for this service will continue long ; and some powder with it. S. Letter of Drake to Walsyngham. July 29th. Right Honourable: This bearer came aboard the ship I was in in a wonder- ful good time, and brought with him as good knowledge as w'e could wish. His carefvdness therein is worthy recompense, for that God hath given us so good a day in forcing the enemy so far to leeward, as I hope in God the Prince of Parma and the Duke of vSidonia shall not shake hands this few days ; and whensoever they shall meet, I believe neither of them will greatly rejoice of this day's service. The town of Calais hath seen some part thereof, whose Mayor her Majesty is beholden unto. Business commands me to end. God bless her Majesty, our gracious Sovereign, and give us all grace to live in his fear. I assure vour Honour this day's service hath much appalled the enemy, and no doubt but encouraged our army. From aboard her Majesty's good ship the Revenge, this 29th of July, 158S. Your Honour's most readv to be commanded, FiiA. Drakk. There must be great care taken to send us munition and victual witherso- ever the enemy gocth. Yours, Fka. Drake. 6. Letter of Richard Tomson to Walsyngham. July 30th. Since our first meeting of our ene- mies, which was on Sunday, the 21st Elizabeth 21 of this present, we have had four en- counters, such as, the Lord be praised, hath not a little daunted the minds of our enemies, but much impaired their great and unexpected forces, and to very little or no detriment of our Eng- lish navy. At our first meeting of them, which was within two miles of Looe in Cornwall, they were 136 sail of ships and pinnaces, whereof 90 were very great ships, and the rest of smaller account ; and at that time our English navy was not above 67 sail. By God's goodness and the good working of our commanders, we got the wind of them, which is a very great advantage and a special safety for the weaker part ; and ever since God hath so blessed us that ^ve have kept the same, to the great annoyance of our enemies; and by that means we have so daily pursued them at the heels, that they never had leisure to stop in any place alongst our Eng- lish coast until they came within two miles of Calais, where in the evening, very politely, they came all upon a sudden to an anchor, being Saturday the 27th day, purposing that our ships with the flood should be driven to lee- Avard of them ; but in happy time it was soon espied, and prevented by bringing our fleet to an anchor also in the wind of them. The same night they sent ashoi^e to Calais and forthwith to the Duke of Parma, advertising of their being there ; and one received answer that he with his forces would be in readiness upon Tuesday following, and come and join with them, with intent to come over and land their forces in England, about Afargate in Vrent, as since I have thoroughly learnt of the Spaniards that were taken in the chief galleass that the king had, hard under the jetty head at Calais. It hath appeared by many arguments that the Spaniards were not evil welcome to Monsieur Gourdan and the rest of his government, by permit- ting their messengers to go so speedily between the Duke and that place, as also by suffering the boats to go to and from the shore so usually, all Sunday the 2Sth of July, as they did ; and most of all, by sending his kinsman and lieutenant aboard the Duke of Me- dina with a great present ; whereof no semblance was made at all unto our Lord Admiral. It pleased my Lord Admiral to ap- point certain small ships to be fired on Sunday about 12 of the clock at night, and let drive with the flood amongst the Spaniards ; which prac- tice, God be thanked, hath since turned to our great good ; for it caused the Spaniards to let slip their anchors and cables, and confusedlv to drive one upon another ; whereby they were not only put from their roadstead and place where they meant to attend the coming of the Duke of Parma, but did much hurt one to another of them.selves ; and are now, by the earnest pursuit of our Englishmen, very much weakened and dispersed, the Lord be praised, so that of the 124 sail that they were in Calais Road, we cannot now find by any account above S6 ships and pinnaces ; so that I cannot conjecture but by the furious assault that my Lord and his associates gave them early on Monday morning, and did continue in vehement manner 8 hours, hath laid many of them in the bottom of the sea, or else [caused them to] run with the coast of Flanders to save their lives, though im- possible to save their great ships, bv reason of their evil harbours. At the break of day upon Mondav morning, my Lord and all the fleet set- ting sail after our enemies, we espied riding within shot of the town of Calais the greatest of the king's galle- asses, the rest of the vSpanish fleet being two leagues to leeward of her. 22 Elizabeth My Lord Admiral began to go toward tlie galleass with his ship, the Ark, but finding the water to be shallow, other ships of less draught bare in with her and shot at her, whereupon she let slip and run the galleass aground hard be- fore the town. In our ship, which was the Margaret and John of London, we approached so near that we came on ground also ; but afterwards came safely off again with the flood, being damaged by noth- ing but by the town of Calais, who, off the bulwarks, shot very much at us, and shot our ship twice through. And tlie like powder and shot did Monsieur Gourdan bestow upon sun- dry of our countrymen, and make us relinquish the galleass, which other- wise we had brought away, being mas- ters of her above two hours, and gotten bv hard assault, to the great credit of our country, if Monsieur Gourdan herein had not shown his affection to the Spaniards to be greater than our nation, or seemed by force to wrest from us that which we had gotten with l)loody heads. Mv Lord Admiral, seeing he could not approach the galleass with his ship, sent off his long boat unto her with 50 or 60 men, amongst whom were many gentlemen as valiant in courage as gentle in birth, as they well showed. The like did our ship send off her pinnace, with certain musket- eers, amongst whom myself went. These two boats came hard under the galleass sides, being aground, where wc continued a pretty skirmish with our small shot against theirs, they being ensconced within their ship and very high oyer us, we in our open pinnaces and far under them, haying nothing to shroud and coyer us ; they being 300 soldiers, besides .j:;o slaves, and we not, at the instant, loo persons. With- in one half hour it pleased God, by killing the captain with a musket shot, to give us victory above all hope or ex- pectation ; for the soldiers leaped over- board by heaps on the other side, and fled with the shore, swimming and wading. Some escaped with being wet; some, and that very many, were drowned. The captain of her was called Don Hugo de Moncada, son to the viceroy of Valencia. He being;^ slain, and the most part of their sol- diers fled, some few soldiers remaining in her, seeing our English boats under her sides and more of ours coming rowing towards her, some with 10 and some with 8 men in them, for all the smallest shipping were the nearest the shore, put up two handkerchiefs upon two rapiers, signifying that they desired truce. Hereupon we entered, with much difficulty, by reason of her height over us, and possessed us of her, by the space of an hour and half as I judge; each man seeking his benefit of pillage until the flood came, that we might haul her off the ground and bring her away. It may please your Honour to under- stand that during our fight to get her, the men of Calais stood in multitudes- upon the shore hard by us and behold- ing all things, showing themselves at that instant indifferent lookers-on ; but so soon as they saw us possessed of so princely a vessel, the very glory and stay of the Spanish army, a thing of very great value and strength, as was well known to them of Calais, for that they had been on board twice or thrice the day before ; I say, Monsieur Gour- dan, seeing us thus possessed, sent aboard to us that were in her, in which boat came his kinsman and another captain, desiring to parle with us. None being then in place that either understood or spake French but myself, I asked them from whom they came. They answered, from Monsieur Gour- Elizabeth ^3 dan, the Governor of Calais. I de- manded to know what his pleasure was. They answei'ed that he had stood and beheld our fight and rejoiced of our victory, saying that for our prowess and manhood showed therein we had well deserved the spoil and pillage of the galleass, as a thing due unto us by desert, and that he willingly consented that we should have the pillage of her; further requiring and commanding us not to offer to carry away either the ship or ordnance, for that she was on ground under the commandment of his castles and town, and therefore did of right appertain unto him. I answered unto them that, for our parts, we thanked Monsieur Gourdan for grant- ing the pillage to the mariners and soldiers that had fought for the same ; acknowledging that without his leave and good will we could not carry away anything of that we had gotten, con- sidering it lay on ground hard under his bulwarks ; and that as concerning the ship and ordnance, we prayed it would please him to send a pinnace aboard my Lord Admiral, who was here in person hard by, from whom he should have an honourable and friendly answer which we all are to obey and give place unto. With this answer, to my seeming they .departed well satisfied ; but since I have understood that some of our rude men, who make no account of friend or foe, fell to spoiling the Frenchmen, taking away their rings and jewels as from enemies ; whereupon going ashore and complaining, all the bulwarks and ports were bent against us, and shot so vehemently that we received simdry shot very dangerously through us. If this have not incensed Monsieur Gour- dan, I suppose that he will easily, upon request made, either surrender all or the better part of all things unto her Majesty ; for the ship cannot be so little worth, with her ordnance, as eighty thousand crowns ; having in her four whole cannons, 8 demi-cannons, 12 culverins and demi-culverins, 16 sakers and minions, all of brass, 200 barrels of powder, and of all other things great provision and plenty ; but very little or no treasure that I can learn to be in her. This is the substance and very truth of all that passed in this action. Being thus departed from the galleasses, my Lord with all the fleet pui^sued the enemy, with all violent pursuit that our ordnance and small shot could yield ; little to our hurt, the Lord be praised, but greatly to the detriment of the enemy, as the bearer hereof, Mr. John Watts of London, can amply inform your Honour ; for he was present at the doing of most of these things happened within these two days, not without danger enough of his person both of cannon and musket shot, where- of his apparel beareth some tokens, although it pleased God to spare his life. At this instant we are as far to the east- ward as the Isle of Walcheren, wherein Flushing doth stand, and about 12 leagues off the shore ; and the wind hanging westerly, we drive our enemies apace to the eastward, much marveling, if the wind continue, in what port they will direct them.selves. Some imagine the River of Hamburg, which is a bad place for the receipt of ships of such charge ; others suppose, because they have yet provision of victuals for three months, thev will about Scotland, and so for Spain. I trust her Majesty may, by God's help, little fear any invasion by these ships; their power being, by battle, mortality, and other accidents, so decayed, and those that are left alive so weak and hurtless, that they could be well content to lose all charges to be at home, both rich and poor. There is want of powder, shot and victual, amongst us, which causeth that we can- not so daily assault them as we would. 24 Elizabeth God grant the want may in time be supplied, that so necessary a service be not neglected thereby. Thus I take my humble leave of your Honour, to whom Almighty God send all continuance of health and increase of happiness. Subscribed, Richard Tomson. make. [The fires did, however, come from their own vessels. — Ed,] . . . 7. Letter of Sir William Wynter to Walsyngham. August I . . . . Upon Sunday, being the 2Sth day, my Lord [Howard] put out his flag of council early in the morning, the armies both riding still; and after the assembly of the council it was con- cluded that the practice for the firing of ships should be put in execution the night following, and Sir Henry Palmer was assigned to bear over presently in a pinnace for Dover, to bring away such vessels as were fit to be fired, and materials apt to take fire. But because it was seen, after his going, he could not return that night, and occasion would not be over slipped, it was thought meet that we should help our- selves with such shipping as we had there to serve our turn. So that, about twelve of the clock that night, six ships were brought and prepai'ed [signalled] with a saker shot, and going in a front, having the wind and tide with them, and their ordnance being charged, were fired [/. c, set fire to] ; and the men that were the executors, so soon as the fire was made they did abandon the ships, and entered into five boats that were appointed for the saving of them. This matter did put such terror among the Spanish army that they were fain to let slip their cables and anchors; and did work, as it did appear, great mischief among them by reason of the suddemiess of it. Wc might perceive that there were two great fires more than ours, and far greater and hugcr than any of our vessels that we fired cmdd 8. Letter of Howard to Lord Burleigh. August 10. My good Lord : — Sickness and mor- tality begins wonderfully to grow among us ; and it is a most pitiful sight to see, here at Margate, how the men, having no place to receive them into here, die in the streets. I am driven myself, of force, to come a-land, to see them bestowed in some lodging; and the best I can get is barns and such out- houses ; and the relief is small that I can provide for them here It would grieve any man's heart to see them that have served so valiantly to die so miserably. The Elizabeth Jonas, which hath done as well as ever any ship did in any service, hath had a great infection in her from the beginning, so as of the 500 men which she carried out, by the time we had been in Plymouth three weeks or a month there were dead of them 200 and above ; so as I was driven to set all the rest of her men ashore, to take out her ballast, and to make fires in her of wet broom, three or four days together; and so hoped thereby to have cleansed her of her infection ; and thereupon got new men, very tall and able as ever I saw, and put them into her. Now the infection is broken out in greater extremity than ever it did before, and the men die and sicken faster than ever they did ; so as I am driven of force to send her to Chatham. We all think and judge tliat the infection remaineth in the pitch. Sir Roger Townshend, of all the men he brought out with him, hath but one left alive. . . . 9. Letter of Sir R. Bingham, Gov- ernor of Connaught, to the Qiieen. Dec. 3rd, 15SS. Most gracious and dread Sover- Elizabeth 25 eign : — My long silence in not ac- quainting your Majesty with the occurrents of this your Highness' s province hath proceeded rather through fear to offend your Majesty by pressing too far into your Highness' s presence with my rude and uncomely letters. . . . Albeit ... I have adventured ... to present your Highness now with these humble and few lines, as a thanksgiving to Almighty God for these his daily preservations of your sacred person, and the continual deliv- erance of us, your Majesty's subjects, from the cruel and bloody hands of your Highness' s enemies, and that lastly from the danger of the Spanish forces, defeated first by your Majesty's navy in the Narrow Seas, and sithence overthrown through the wonderful handiwork of Almighty God, by great and horrible shipwrecks upon the coasts of this realm, and most upon the parts and creeks of this province of Connaught, where it hath pleased your Majesty to appoint my service under your Highness' s Lord Deputy. Their loss upon this province, first and last, and in several places, was twelve ships, which all we know of, and some two or three more supposed to be sunk to seaboard of the out isles ; the men of which ships did all perish in the sea, save the number of iioo or upward, which we put to the sword; amongst whom there was divers gentlemen of quality and service, as captains, mas- ters of ships, lieutenants, ensign- bearers, other inferior officers and young gentlemen, to the number of some fifty, whose names I have for the most part set down in a list, and have sent the same unto your Majesty ; which being spared from the sword till order might be had from the Lord Dep- uty how to proceed against them, I had special direction sent me to see them executed, as the rest were, only reserving alive one, Don Luis de Cor- dova, and a young gentleman, his nephew, till your Highness's pleasure be known. Other gentlemen of special reckoning we had none, for the Count Paredes and Don Alonzo de Leyva, with other gentlemen, being thrown ashore in Erris, the remotest place in all this province, and their ship all to broken, did afterwards by chance embark themselves in another of their ships and departed to sea ; but being again driven back upon the northern coast in Ulster, and from thence putting to sea again, are sit- hence, as I hear say, cast away about the isles going for Scotland. ]My brother George had one Don Graveillo de Swasso and another gentleman, by license, and some five or six Dutch boys and young men, who coming after the fury and heat of justice was past, by entreaty I spared them, in respect they were pressed into the fleet against their wills, and did dis- pose them into several Englishmen's hands, upon good assurance that they should be forthcoming at all times. And thus, God be praised, was all the province quickly rid of those distressed enemies. . . . But the Lord Deputy . . . caused both these two Spaniards, which my brother had, to be executed, and the Dutchmen and boys which were spared before, reserving none but Don Luis and his nephew, whom I have here. I was glad ii\ one respect that his Lordship should take his way through Connaught, for that thereby he might the better satisfy himself of what we had before performed here, and accordingly had written of. Other wrecks they had both in Munster and Ulster, which being out of my charge, I have not so good notice of . . . Your Highness's most loyal and humble soldier, Rv. BlXGlIA.M. 26 Elizabeth GROUP IV. THE END OK THE REIGX OF QL'EEN ELIZABETH. I. Extract from Bishop Goochiian's " Court of James I." (London, 1S39. ) Vol. I. p. 163. ... In the year 'SS, I did then live at the upper end of the strand near St. Clement's Church, when suddenly there came a report unto us (it was in Decemi)er, much about five of the clock at night, very dark) that the Qiieen was gone to coimcil, and if you will see the (^ucen you must come quickly. Then we all ran ; when the Court gates were set open, and no man did hinder us from coming in. There we came where there was a far greater company than was usually at Lenten Sermons; and when we had staid there an hour and that the yard was full, there being a number of torches, the C^ueen came out in great state. Then we cried: ''God save your ma- jestv ! God save your majesty 1 " Then the Qiieen turned unto us and said, " God bless you all, my good people ! " Then we cried again : " God save your Majestv ! God save your Majesty I " Then the Qiieen said again unto us, " You may well have a greater prince, but you shall never have a more loving prince:" and so looking one upon another awhile the Qiieen departed. This wrought such an impression upon us, for shows and pageants are ever best seen by torchlight, tliat all the way long we did nothing but talk what an admirable queen she was, and how we would adventure our lives to do her service. Xow tins was in a year when she had most enemies, and how easily might they have then gotten into the crowd and multitude to have done her a mischief. Hut here we were to C(jme in at the Court gates, and there was all the danger of searching. Take her then in her yearly journeys at her coming to London, where you must understand that she did desire to be seen and to be magnified ; but in her old age she had not only wrinkles, but she had a goggle throat — a great gullet hanging out, as her grandfather Henry the Seventh is ever painted withal ; for in young people the glan- dels do make all things seem smooth and fair, but in old people, the glandels being shrunk, the gullet doth make a little deformity. And, truly, there was then a report that the ladies had gotten false looking-glasses, that the Queen might not see her own wrinkles ; for having been exceeding beautiful and fair in her youth, such beauties are ever aptest for wrinkles in old age. 2. Extract from the Alemoirs of Cary, Earl of Monmouth. (Published in Edinborough, iSoS.) 1593. [Cary had offended Elizabeth by marrying.] I made all the haste I could to court, which was then at Hampton Court. I arrived there on St. Stephen's day in the afternoon. Dirty as I was, I came into the presence, where I found the lords and ladies dancing. The Qiieen was not there. My father [Lord Huns- don] went to the Queen to let her know that I was returned. She willed him to take my message or letters and bring them to her. He came for them, but I desired him to excuse me ; for that which I had to say, either by word or l)y writing, I must deliver myself. ... He acquainted her Majesty with Elizabeth 27 mv resolution. With much ado I was called for in ; and I was left alone with her. Our first encounter was stormy and terrible, which I passed over with silence. After she had spoken her pleasure of me and my wife, I told her that " she herself was the fault of my marriage, and that if she had but graced me with the least of her favours, I had never left her, nor her court ; and seeing she was the chief cause of my misfortune, I would never off my knees till I had kissed her hand, and obtained my pardon." She was not displeased with my excuse, and before we parted we grew good friends. Then I delivered my message and my papers, which she took very well, and at last gave me thanks for the pains I had taken. So having her princely word that she had pardoned and for- gotten all faults, I kissed her hand, and come forth to the presence, and was in the court as I was ever before. 3. Paul Hentzer's Journey into Eng- land in i'^9S. (From Fugitive Pieces by several Authors. Dublin, 1762, Page 266 ff.) Upon taking the Air down the River, the first Thing that struck us, was the Ship of that noble Pirate, Sir Francis Drake, in which he is said to have sur- rounded this Globe of Earth. On the left Hand lies Ratcliffe, a considerable Suburb : On the opposite Shore is fixed a long Pole with Rams horns upon it, the intention of which was vulgarly said to be, a Reflexion upon wilful and contented Cuckolds. We arrived next at the Royal Palace of Greenwich, reported to have been originally build by Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and to have received very magnificent Additions from Henry VII. It was here Elizabeth, the pres- ent queen, was born, and here she gen- erally resides; particularlv in Summer, for the Delightfulness of its Situation. We were admitted by an Order Mr. Rogers had procured from the Lord Chamberlain, into the Presence-Cham- ber, hung with rich Tapestry, and the Floor after the English Fashion, strewed with Hay,* through which the Qiieen commonly passes in her way to Chapel : At the Door stood a Gentleman dressed in Velvet, with a Gold Chain, whose Office was to introduce to the Qiieen any Person of Distinction, that came to wait on her : It was Sunday, when there is usually the greatest Attendance of Nobility. In the same Hall were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, a great Number of Councellors of State, Officers of State, OflScers of the Crown, and Gentlemen, who waited the Qjieen's coming out; which she did from her own Apart- ment, when it was Time to go to Prayers, attended in the following manner : — First went Gentlemen, Barons, Earls, Knights of the Garter, all richly dressed and bareheaded ; next came the Chan- cellor, bearing the Seals in a red Silk Purse, between two : One of which carried the Royal Scepter, the other the Sword of State, in a red scabbard, studded with golden Fleurs de Lis, the Point upwards : Next came the Qiieen, in the Sixty- fifth year of her Age, as we were told, very Majestic ; her Face oblong, fair, but wrinkled ; her Eyes small, yet black and pleasant ; her Nose a little hooked ; her Lips narrow, and her Teeth black (a Defect the English seem subject to, from their too great L se of Sugar) ; she had in her Ears two Pearls, with very rich Drops ; she wore false Hair, and that red ; upon her Head she had a small Crown, re- ported to be of some of the Gold of the celebrated Lunebourg Table : Her * He probably means Rushes. 2^ Elizabeth Bosom was uncovered, as all the Eng- lish Ladies have it, till they marry ; and she had on a Kecklace of exceeding fine Jewels ; her Hands were small, her Fingers long and her Stature neither tall nor low ; her Air was stately, her manner of speaking mild and obliging. That Day she was dressed in white Silk, bordered with Pearls of the Size of Beans, and over it a Mantle of black Silk, shot with silver Threads ; her Train was very long, the End of it borne by a Marchioness ; instead of a Chain, she had an oblong Collar of Gold and Jewels, As she went along in all this State and Magnificence, she spoke very graciously, first to one, then to another, whether foreign Ministers, or those who attended for different Reasons, in English, French and Ital- ian ; for, besides being well skilled in Greek, Latin and the Languages I have mentioned, she is ]Mistress of Spanish, Scotch and Dutch : Whoever speaks to her, it is kneeling; now and then she raises some with her Hand. While we were there, W. vSlawata, a Bohemian Baron, had letters to present to her ; and she, after pulling off her Glove, gave him her right Hand to kiss, sparkling with Kings and Jewels, a IMark of par- ticular Favour : Wherever she turned her Face, as she was going along, everybody fell down on their knees. The Ladies of the Court followed next to her, very handsome and well-shaped, and for the most Part dressed in white ; she was guarded on each Side by the Gentlemen Pensioners, fifty in Number, with gilt Battlcaxes. In the Ante- chapel next the Hall where we were. Petitions were presented to her, and she received them most graciously, which occasioned the Acclamation of. " Long livL- (^ueen Elizabeth I " She answered it with, '" I thank you mv good People." In tlic Ciiapel was ex- cellent Music; as soon as it and tlu' Service was over, which scarce ex- ceeded half an Hour, the Qiieen re- turned in the same State and Order, and prepared to go to Dinner. But while she was still at Prayers, we saw her Table set out with the following So- lemnity. A Gentleman entered the Room bear- ing a Rod, and along with him another who had a Tablecloth, which after they had both kneeled three Times, with the utmost veneration, he spread upon the Table, and after kneeling again, they both retired. Then came two others, one with the Rod again, the other with a Salt-seller, a Plate and Bread ; when they had kneeled, as the others had done, and placed what was brought upon the Table, they too retired with the same Ceremonies performed by the first. At last came an unmarried Lady (we were told she was a Countess), and along with her a married one bearing a Tasting-knife ; the former was dressed in white Silk ; who, when she had prostrated herself three Times, in the most graceful Manner, approached the Table, and rubbed the Plates with Bread and vSalt, with as much Awe as if the Qiieen had been present. When they had waited there a little while, the Veo- men of the Guard entered, bareheaded, cloathed in Scarlet, with a golden Rose upon their Backs, bringing in at each Turn a Coinse of twenty-four Dishes, served in Plate most of it Gilt ; these Dishes were received by a Gentleman in the same Order thev were brought, and placed upon tlie Tal)le, while the Lady taster gave to each of the Guard a mouthful to eat, of the particular Dish he had brought, for Fear of any Poison. During the Time that this Guard, which consists of the tallest and stoutest Men that can be found in England, being carefully selected for this Service, were bringing Dinner, twelve Trumpets, and two Kettledrums made the Hall ring GuglielmoConteSlaua TA CONSTSECRETO DI StaTO, E Cam'deleImperatoreFer DiNANDoS'ECONDo Gran Can cellierodelRegnodiBoemia& Klizabeth 29 for half an Hour together. At tlie End of this Ceremonial a number of unmar- ried Ladies appeared, who, with par- ticular Solemnity, lifted the Meat off the Table, and conveyed it into the Qiieen's inner and more private Cham- ber, where, after she had chosen for herself, the rest goes to the Ladies of the Court. The Qiieen dines and sups alone with very few Attendants ; and it is very sel- dom that anybody, Foreigner or Na- tive, is admitted at that Time, and then only at the Intercession of somebody in Power. . . . . . . We left London in a coach in order to see the remarkable places in its neighborhood. . . . Windsor, a Royal Castle, supposed to have been begun by King Arthur, its buildings much increased by Ed- ward IIL The Situation is entirely worthy of being a Royal Residence, a more beautiful being scarce to be found : For from the Brow of a gentle Rising it enjoys the Prospect of an even and green Country ; its Front commands a valley extending every Way, and chequered with arable Lands and Pasturage, cloathed up and down with Groves, and watered by that gen- tlest of Rivers the Thames ; behind the several Hills, but neither steep nor very high, crowned with Woods, and seeming designed by Nature herself for the purpose of Hunting. . . . This Castle besides being the Royal Palace, and having some magnificent Tombs of the Kings of England, is famous for the ceremonies belonging to the Knights of the Garter. This Order was instituted by Edward IIL, the same who triumphed so illustriously over King John of France. The Knights of the Garter are strictly chosen for their military Virtues, and Antiquity of Family : They are bound by solemn Oath and Vow to mutual and perpetual Friendship among themselves, and to the not avoiding any Danger whatever, or even Death itself, to support by their joint Endeavours the Honour of the So- ciety : They are stiled, Companions of the Garter, from their wearing below the left knee a purple Garter, inscribed in letters of Gold, with " Honi soit qui mal y pense," /. y King, great Conqueror, nor learned Doctor of Physic. With the report of a great discovery for a Conquest, some two or three savage men were brought in, together with this savage custom. But the pity is, the poor wild barbarous men died, but that vile barbarous custom is yet alive, yea in fresh vigor : so as it seems James I 37 a miracle to me, how a custom spring- ing from so vile a ground, and brought in by a father so generally hated, [Raleigh] should be welcomed upon so slender a warrant . . . . . . This tobacco is not simply of a dry and hot quality, but rather hath a certain venomous faculty joined with the heat thereof, which makes it have an antipathy against nature, as by the hateful smell thereof doth well appear. For the nose being the proper organ and convoy of the sense of smelling to the brains, which are the only foun- tain of that sense, doth ever serve us for an infallible witness whether that odor which we smell be healthful or hurtful to the brain. . . . The second argument grounded on a show of reason is, that this filthy smoke, as well through the heat and strength thereof, as by a natural force and quality, is able to purge both the head and stomach of rheums and dis- tillations, as experience teacheth, by the spitting and avoiding phlegm imme- -eil mv utterance, and said lie had been informed of many as to my learn- ing in the time of the Qiieen. He asked me what I thought pure wit was made of and whom it did best become? Whether a king should not be the best clerk in his own country; and if this land did not entertain good opinion of his learning and good wisdom? His majesty did much press for my opinion touching the power of Satan in matter of witchcraft, and asked me with much gravity if I did truly understand why the devil did work more with antient women than others? I did not refrain from a scurvy jest, and even said (not- withstanding to whom it was said) that we were taught hereof in Scripture where it is told that the devil walketh in dry places. His majesty, moreover, was pleased to say much and favorably, of my good report for merit and good conceit : to which I did covertly answer, as not willing a subject should be wiser than his prince, nor even appear so. More serious discourse did next en- sue, wherein I wanted room to con- tinue, and sometimes some to escape : for the Queen, his mother, was not forgotten, nor Davison neither. His highness told me her death was visible in Scotland before it did really happen, being, as he said, spoken of in secret by those whose power of sight pre- sented to them a bloody head dancing in the air. He then did remark on this gift (second sight) and said he sought out of certain books a sure way to attain knowledge of future chances. Hereat he named many books which I did not know, nor by whom written; but advised me not to consult some authors which would lead me to evil consultations. I told his majesty the power of .Satan had, I much feared, damaged my bodily frame, but I had not further will to court his friendship for mv soul's hurt. We next dis- James I. 41 coursed somewhat upon religion, when at length he said : "• Now, sir, vou have seen my wisdom in some sort and I have pried into yours; pray you do me justice in your report, and in good reason I will not fail to add to your understanding in such points as I fmd you lack amendment." I made cour- tesy hereat, and withdrew down the passage and out at the gate, amidst the many varlets and lordly servants who stood around. Thus you have the his- tory of your neighbor's high chance and entertainment at court ; more of which matter when I come home to my dwelling and talk of these affairs in a corner. I must press to silence hereon, as otherwise all is undone. I did forget to tell that His Majesty much asked concerning my opinion of the new weed, tobacco, and said it would, by its use, infuse ill qualities on the brain, and that no learned man ought to taste it, and wished it forbidden. I will now forbear further exercise of your time, as Sir Robert's man w'aiteth for my letter to bear to you, from your old neighboi, Friend and Cousin, JoHX Harrington. 6. Letters of John Chamberlain. Esq., to Sir Dudley Carleton. (In Court and Times of James I. Vol. II. p. 115.) London, Dec. 20th, 16 iS. The king hath been to Theobalds ever since Wednesday, and comes to town this day ; and unless his presence bring us some news, we are likely to have a dead and dull Christmas. I am sorr\ to hear that he grows ever} day more froward, and with such a kind of morosity, that doth either argue a great discontent in mind, or a distemper of humours in his body. Yet he is never so out of tune, but the very sight of my Lord of Buckingham doth settle and quiet all. May 14th, 1619. It were to no purpose to make any long description of the funeral [of Anne of Denmark, James's Qiieen], which was but a drawling, tedious sight, more remarkable for number than for any other singularity, there being 2S0 poor women, besides an army of men fellows, that were serv- ants to the lords, and others of the train. And, though tlie number of lords and ladies was very great, yet methought, altogether, they made but a poor show; which, perhaps, was, because they were apparelled all alike, or that they came loggering all along, even tired with the length of the way and the weight of their cloaks, every ladv having twelve yards of bi'oad cloth about her, and the countesses sixteen. . . . June 5th [three weeks after !] The king came from Theobalds, on Tuesday, to Whitehall, all along the fields; and, on the back side of Gray's Inn, was met by a fair troop of our citizens on horseback, with their chains of gold, or pearl, or diamonds; and the aldermen in scarlet. The recorder made a short speech in congratulation of his recovery, and excuse of the lord mayor's absence; whereto the King gave no great heed, making little show of being pleased, as being given to understand that he is more sullen than sick, which, in very truth, is otherwise, for he continues still in weak estate. The King was attended by the prince [Charles I.], and all the nobility, in very good equipage ; himself very fresh in a suit of watchet satin, laid with silver lace, with a blue and white feather; as also his horse was furnished with the like, both before and behind. Insomuch that all the company was glad to see him so gallant, and more like a wooer than a mourner. But what decorum it will be when ambas- 42 James T. sadors come to condole (as here is one now from the Duke of Lorraine, with three or four and twenty followers, all in black) , let them consider whom it more concerns. . . . June 26th. . . . The king this next week, makes a petty progress to Otelands, Oking and Windsor. . . . His legs and feet come pretty well to him, having found out a very good expedient of late, to bathe them in every buck and stag's belly in the place where he kills them ; which is counted an excellent remedy to strengthen and restore the sinews. Au reste, he is fallen to his old diet, and will not be persuaded to forbear fruit, nor sweet wines. In the mean time we are driven to hardships for money, and all too little ; so that we are fain to make sale of jewels for £20,000, to furnish out this progress. 7. Letter of James to a certain Blake concerning the Puritans. No date. (In Ellis, Original Letters, 3d Series, 4th volume, p. 161.) English mod- ernized. My honest Blake. . . . The letter talking of deambulatory councils and such like satiric tricks did a little chafe me, but ye may see I answered accord- ing to the old scholar's rule, in quo casti guccris, in eodcm res pondcre teneris, for I would be sorry not to be as constant indeed as she was that called herself semper eadcm , indeed ve may tell the beagle that he hath best cause to complain of my being a peripatetic, for I will oftimes walk so fast, round about and above with him, that he will be like to fall down dead upon the floor. I can give you no other thanks for your daily working and public railing upon me, save only this, do what ye can ye can give me no more arguments of your faithful affection towards me, and do what I can unto you, I can never increase a hair the devotion of your service towards me. We have kept such a revel with the Puritans here these two days as was never heard the like, where I have peppered them as soundly as ye have done the Papists there ; it were no reason that those that will refuse the airy sign of the cross after baptism should have their purses stuffed with any more solid and substantial crosses ; they fled me so from argument to argu- ment without ever answering me di- rectly, ut est corum moris^ that I was forced at last to say unto them, that if any of them had been in a college dis- puting with their scholars, if any of their disciples had answered them in that sort, they would have fetched him up in place of a reply, and so should the rod have plied upon the poor boy's buttocks. I have such a book of theirs as may well convert infidels, but it shall never convert me, except by turn- ing me more earnestly against them ; and thus praying you to commend me to the honest chamberlain, I bid you heartily farewell. James R. James I. 43 GROUP VI. THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 1605 A. D. I. Account of Fathei" John Gerard. (In "The Condition of Catholics under James by John JMorris." Loud., 1S71, p. 96.) [Father Gei^ard was tried for com- plicity in the plot, but acquitted.] . . . About ten days before the Par- liament should have begun the Lord Mounteagle (whose affection to Cath- olics hath long time been known unto divers) being at his own house and at supper, a man came to his page in the street and delivered him a letter wish- ing him to deliver the same unto his Lord's own hands, which the page performed, but made no stay of the bringer thereof, who presently departed. The Lord Mounteagle not knowing the hand, and seeing no name subscribed, caused one of his men to read it unto him, and it was of this tenour. " My Lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation, therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift off your attendance at this Parliament, for God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. And think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your country, where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no appearance of any stir, yet, I say, there shall receive a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not see \vho hurts them. This council is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is passed so soon as you have burnt the letter. And I hope God will give you the grace to make use of it, to Whose holy protection I commend you." This was the letter which the Lord Mounteagle having considered, and see- ing so dangerous matter contained in it, he presently went to the Lord of Salis- bury, who is Chief Secretary of His Majesty, and delivered the letter unto him, with relation of all circumstances of the receipt and reading of the letter. The Lord of Salisbury seemed not at the first to make any great account of it, yet said he would acquaint some other Lords of the Council with the same and commended the Lord Mount- eagle for his fidelity and his care of His Majesty's safety, and of the State, and presently showed the letter to the Lord Chamberlain, and then both of them thought the letter might have some relation with other informations the Lord of Salisbury had received beyond seas, concerning some business intended by the Papists ; and they seemed to think there might be some perilous attempt intended. And therefore they two con- cluded to join with them three other of the Council, to wit, the Lord Admiral the Lord of Worcester and Northamp- ton, to be acquainted with this matter; who having all of them concurred to- gether to the examination of the contents of the said letter, they did conclude (saith the book written of the discovery of this treason) that how slight soever a matter at the first appear, yet was it not .absolutely to be condemned, in respect of the care which it behoved them to have of the preservation of His Majesty's person. Yet they resolved, for two reasons, first to acquaint the King himself with the same, before they proceeded to any further inquisition in the matter, as well (saith the book) for the expectation and experience they had 44 James I. of His Majesty's fortunate judgement in clearing and solving of obscure riddles and doubtful mysteries, as also because the more time would in the meanwhile be given for the practise to ripen (if any was) whereby the discovery might be the more clear and evident, and the ground of proceeding thereupon more safe, just, and easy. And so according to their determination the said Earl of Salisbury did repair to the King upon the Friday after, being AU-IIallow-day which was the day after His Majesty's arrival ivum Royston, where he had been at his hunting exercise, and was come up to London to be present at the begimiing of the Parliainent. The Earl therefore finding the King alone in his gallery, without any other speech or judgement giving of the letter, but only relating simply the form of the delivery thereof, he presented it to His Highness. The King no sooner read the letter, but after a little pause, and then reading it over again, he delivered his judgement of it in such sort, as he thought it was not to be contemned ; for that the style of it seemed to be more quick and pithy than is usual to be in any pasquil or libel, the superfluities of idle brains. But the Earl of Salisbury perceiving the King to apprehend it deepljer than he looked for, knowing his nature, told him that he thought by one sentence in it, tliat it was like to be written by some fool or madman, reading to him that sentence in it, " For the danger is past as soon as you have burnt the letter," which he said was likely to be the saying of a fool ; for if the danger was passed so soon as the letter was burnt then the warning behoved to be of little avail, when the burning of the letter might make the danger to be eschewed. IJut the King by the contrary, considering the former sentence in the letter, "That they should receive a terrible blow at this Parliament, and yet shouli' not see who hurt them;" joining it to the sentence immediately following already alleged, did thereupon conjecture that the danger mentioned should be some sudden danger by blowing up of powder. For no other insurrection, rebellion or wdiatsoever other private or desperate attempt could be committed orattempted in time of Parliament and the authors thereof unseen except only if it were by a blowing up of powder, which might be performed by one base knave in a dark corner : whereupon he was moved to interpret and construe the latter sentence in the letter (alleged by the Earl of Salisbury against all ordinary sense and construction grammar) as if by these words, " For the danger is passed as soon as you have burned the letter," should be closely understood by suddenty and quickness of the danger, w^hich should be as quickly performed and at an end, as that paper should be of l)lazing up in the fire, turning the word of "as soon " to the sense of " as quickly;" and therefore His Majesty wished that befoi'e his going to the Parliament, the under rooms of the Parliament House might be well and narrowly searched. The Earl of Salis- bury wondering at His Majesty's com- mentary, which he knew to be so far contrary to his ordinary and natural disposition, who did rather ever sin upon the other side, in not apprehend- ing nor trusting the advertisements of practices and perils whqn he was freely informed of them, and interpreting rightly his extraordinary caution at this time to proceed from the vigilant care he had of the whole State more than of his own person, yet he thought good to dissemble still unto the King, that there was just cause of such apprehension, and ended the present talk with some merry jest as his custom is. Hut though he seemed to neglect it to His Majesty, yet he could not be addressed till with James I. 45 the Lord Chamberlain he came again unto His Majesty, at which time it was agreed that the said Lord Chamberhiin should according to his custom and office view all the Parliament Houses both above and below, and consider what likelihood or appearance of any such danger might be gathered : but yet this was deferred until the afternoon before the sitting down of the Parliament, which was upon the Monday following : at what time, he according to this con- clusion went to the Parliament House accompanied with the Lord Mounteagle; where having viewed all the lower rooms, he found in the vault under the Upper House great store and provision of billets, faggots, and coals : and in- quiring of Whyneyard, keeper of the wardrobe to what use he had put the lower rooms and cellars, he told him that Mr, Thomas Percy had hired both the house and part of the cellar or vault under the same and that the wood and coal therein was the said gentleman's own provision. Whereupon the Lord Chamberlain looking into the room per- ceived a fellow standing in a corner, who called himself the said Percy his man, and keeper of that house for him, but indeed was Guido Faulks, the man that should have acted that monstrous tragedy. The Lord Chamberlain looking upon all things with a heedful eye, though in outward show he seemed careless, presently addressed himself to the King, and in the presence of the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Admiral, the Earls of Worcester, Northampton, and Salis- bury, he made his report what he had seen and observed there, affirming that he did wonder not a little at the extra- ordinary great provisions of wood and coal in that house where Thomas Percy had so seldom occasion to remain, as likewise it gave him in his mind, that his man looked like a very tall and desperate fellow. This could not but increase the King's former apprehen- sion, whereupon he willed that those billets and coals should be searched to the bottom : and of the same opinion were the Lords there present, although they thought it fit to have it done in the night, and by a Justice of Peace only under pretence of searching for some of the King's stuff that was missing; and this for two reasons ; one was lest if nothing were found, it should seem the King and State were too suspicious of every light toy ; also for that they said it would lay an ill-favoured impu- tation upon the Earl of Northumber- land, one of His Majesty's greatest subjects and Councillors : this Thomas Percy being his kinsman and most con- fident familiar. . . . That night following being Monday night (when the Parliament should have begun a)id ended also the next day) Sir Thomas Knevet, a gentleman of His ]\Lajesty's Privy chamber, w^as sent to search the place at midnight under pretence of looking for some other things as w\as before devised. When he came to the Parliament House before his entry into JMr. Percy his lodging, he found the foresaid man that had the keeping of the house for Mr. Percy standing without the house and seeing him with his clothes on and booted at so dead time of the night, the Justice apprehended him : and after went forward to the searching of the house, where after he had caused to be overturned some of the billets and coals, he first found one of the small barrels of powder, and after, all the rest, to the number of thirty-six barrels great and small. And thereafter search- ing the fellow whom he had taken, found three matches and all other instruments fit for blowing up of the powder ready upon him : which made him instantly to confess what his intent 46 James I. was, affirming withal that if he had happened to have been within the house when he was taken, as he was immediately before at the ending of his work, he would not have failed to have l>lown up the Justice, house and all. . . . The prisoner was carried fast bound unto the Court. . . . All that day the Council could get nothing out of him concerning his complices, refusing to answer to any such questions which he thought might discover the plot, and laving all the blame upon himself, whereunto he said he was moved only for religion and conscience sake, deny- ing the King to be his lawful sovereign or the anointed of God, in respect he was an heretic. . . . But after he had been three or four days in the Tower and was threatened with the rack only, as the printed book saith (though the common voice was that he was ex- tremely racked the first days), then, wliether to avoid torments, or for that he might understand that the gentlemen had discovered themselves by rising up in arms in the country, he then named some of his complices, with his own name also [Fawkes], and how the matter was broken unto liim, and how begun and prosecuted, as I have before declared ; yet I cannot find by his con- fession which is jniblished in print, that he named al)ove six of those who had wrought in the mine and provision of the powder and who then were all known to be up in arms. . . . 2. Declaration of (Juv I'awkes. (From the (Junpowdt-r Treason, Lond., 1^)79.) I confess that a jiractice in general was first broken unto me against his Majestv for relief of the Catiioliciue cause, and not iinented or propounded by mvself. And this was first pro- pounded unto me al)out Easter last was twelve-month, beyond the seas, in the Low Countries of the Arch-Duke's obeysance, by Thomas Winter, who came thereupon with me into England, and there we imparted our purpose to tiiree other Gentlemen more, namely Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy and John Wright, who all five consulting together of the means how to execute the same, and taking a vow among ourselves for secresie, Catesby pro- pounded to have it performed by Gun- powder, and by making a myne under the Upper House of Parliament ; which place we made choice of the rather, because religion having been unjustly suppressed there, it was fittest that justice and punishment should be exe- cuted there. This being resolved amongst us, Thomas Percy hired an house at West- minster for that purpose, near adjoin- ing to the Parliament House, and there we begun to make our Myne about the iith of December, 1604. The five that first entered into the work were Thomas Percy, Robert Catesby, Thomas Winter, John Wright, and myself : and soon after we took an- other unto us, Christopher Wright, having sworn him also, and taken the Sacrament for secrecy. When we came to the very founda- tion of the wall of the House, ^vhich was about three yards tliick, and found it a matter of great difficulty, we took unto us another gentleman, Robert Winter, in like manner, ^vith oath and sacrament as aforesaid. It was about Christmas when we l)rought our Myne unto the wall, and about Candlemas we had wrought the wall half through : and whilst they were in working, I stood as sentinel, to descrie any man that came near, whereof I gave them warning, and so they ceased until I gave notice again to proceed. James I. 47 All we se\en lay in the house, and had shot and powder, being resolved to die in that place before we should yield or be taken. As they were workin<2^ upon the wall, they heard a rushing in a cellar of re- movinj^ of coales, whereupon we feared we had been discovered : and they sent me to go to the cellar, who finding that the coales were a selling, and that the cellar was to be let, viewing the commodity thereof for our purpose, Percy went and hired the same for yearly rent. We had before this provided and brought into the house twenty barrels of powder, which we removed into the cellar, and covered the same with bil- lets and fagots, which were provided for that purpose. After Easter, the Parliament being prorogued till October next, we dis- persed ourselves, and I retired into the Low Countreys, by advise and direction of the rest, as well as to acquaint Owen with the particulars of the plot, as also least by my longer stay I might have grown suspicious, and so have come in question. In the mean time, Percy having the key of the Cellar, laid in more powder and wood into it. I returned about the beginning of September next, and then receiving the key of Percy, we brouglit in more powder and billets to cover the same again, and so I went again into the countrey till the 30th of October. It was further resolved amongst us, that the same day that this act should have been performed, some other of our confederates should have surprised tlie person of the Ladv Elizabeth [Later Qiieen of Bohemia], the king's eldest daughter, who was kept in War- wickshire at the Lord Harington's house, and presently have proclaimed her queen, having a project of a proc- lamation ready for that purpose, where- in we made no mention of altering of religion, nor would have avowed the deed to be ours, until we should have had power enough to make our partv good, and then we would have avowed both. Concerning Duke Charles, the king's second son, we had sundry consulta- tions how to seize on his person. But because we found no means how to compass it (the Duke being kept near London, where we had not forces enougli) we resolved to serve our turn with the Lady Elizabeth. GROUP VII. THE MARRIAGE OK THE PRINCESS ?:MZAnETH TO THE COV\T 1>AI,ATINE. Extracts from the Letters of John Chamberlain, Esq., to Sir Dudley Carle- ton. (In Court and Times of James I., London, 1S4S, pp. IS7-) Jan. 2Sth, 161 2. . . . We hear the king is still at Newmarket, somewhat troubled with a humour in his great toe, that must not be christened or called the gout. . . . June 17th. , . . The king lialh been coming and going to Eltham all the last week. . . . But for all his pleasure, he for- gets not business ; but hath found the art of frustrating men's expectations, and holding tliem in suspense. October 2 2d. The king came from Theobalds on Saturday, having notice of the Count Palatine's arrival at Gravesend the night before. He [the Count Palatine] had a very speedy anil prosperous passage ; 48 James I for coming from the Hague on Thurs- day, at eleven o'clock, he emharked that evening at Maesland Sluice, and the next night, aliout ten, landed at Gravesend, where he continued all Saturday ; and on vSunday morning the Duke of Lennox, and some other noble- men and courtiers, were sent to con- duct him to the court, where he arrived about five o'clock, and was met at the Watergate by the Duke of York, at- tended by the Earls of Shrewsbury, Worcester, and others, and so brought through the hall, and along the terrace to the new great chamber, where the king expected him. Theprince [Henry, heir apparent] stirred not a foot, which was much noted. He had a great peal of ordnance as he passed by the Tower, and came with some disadvantage into such presence, having been so long on the water in the coldest days that came this winter; and yet he carried himself with that assurance, and so well and gracefullv, both toward king, queen and prince, and specially his mistress, that he won much love and commen- dation. The king is much pleased in him, and carried him presently into his bedchamber, and there bestowed a ring of the value of £iSoo upon him. From tiicnce he was conveyed through the privy lodgings and galleries to the water, and so to Essex House, where he yet remains; but is every day at court, and plies his mistress hard, and takes no delight in running at ring, nor tennis, nor riding with the prince, as Count Henry, his vmcle, and others of his company do, but oidy in her con- versation. ( )n Tnisday she sent to invite him, as he sat at supper, to a play of her own servants in the cock- pit ; and yesterday they were all day together at Somerset House, which is much beautified within this year or two. He hath a train of very sober and well- fashioned gentlemen ; his whole mnn- ber is not above 170, servants and all, being limited by the King not to exceed. There have been some called coram^ for scandalous speeches of him and the match . . . But howsoever some would embase his means, and mean- ness of estate and title to match with such a lady, yet all do approve his manners and behaviour ; and there be, that stick not to prefer or equal him, at least, with the best princes in Italy for blood and dignity, and not far be- hind them in revenue ; his rents and earnings in being approved to be .£[60,000 a year, besides provisions, which amount to half as much more, and his charge and expense not answer- able to theirs. . . . Nov. 4th, 161 2. . . . The Count Palatine continues in favour and liking with all, especially at court, where he is now lodged in the late lord treasurer's lodgings. Yester- day night the Lady Elizabeth invited him to a solemn supper and a play, and they meet often at meals without curiosity or crowing. On Sunday was sevennight he dined with the king and prince in the privy chamber, but sat bare all the while, whether by custom or rather, as is thought, to bear the prince company, who never come abroad since that day, being seized by a fever that . . . hath continued a quotidian since Wednesday last and with more violence than it began, so that on Saturday he was let blood by advice of most physicians, though But- ler, of Cambridge, was loth to consent. The blood proved foul ; and that after- noon he grew very sick, so that both king, queen and Lady Elizabeth went severally to visit him, and revelling , and plays appointed for that night were put off . . . He and the Count Pala- tine wore invited and piomised to the loiil mayor's feast on Thursday last. (/I ' James I. 49 and great preparations were made for them ; but by this accident he failed. The Count Palatine and his company, after they had seen the show in Cheap- side, went to Guildhall, and were there feasted and welcomed by Sir John Swinnerton, the new made lord mayor, and presented toward the end of the dinner in the name of tlie city with a fair standing cup, a curious basin and ewer, with two large livery pots, weigh- ing altogether i 200 ounces, to the value almost of £500 . . . He behaved him- self very courteously and in very good fashion at the feast, and would needs go to see and salute the lady mayoress and her train where she sat. The show was somewhat extraordinary, with four or five pageants and other devices. Nov. 1 2th, 161 2. When I was closing up my letter to you the last week, I understood more of the prince's sickness than I was willing to impart ; for I knew it could be no welcome news anywhere ; and I was in hopes the world might amend. But going the next morning, the tjth of November, to hear the Bishop of Ely preach at court, ... I found, by the king and queen's absence from the sermon, and by his manner of praying for him, how the matter stood, and that he was pleni deploratiis. For I cannot learn that he had either speech or perfect memory after Wednesday night, but lay, as it were, drawing on till Friday, between eight and nine o'clock in the evening, that he de- parted. The world here is much dis- mayed at the loss of so beloved and likely a prince on such a sudden, and the physicians are much blamed, though, no doubt, they did their best. ... It is verily thought that the dis- ease was no other than the ordinary ague that hath reigned and raged al- most all over England since the latter end of summer, which, by observation, is found must have its ordinary course, and the less physic the better, but only sweating, and an orderly course of keeping and government. The ex- tremity of the disease seemed to lie in his head, for remedy whereof they shaved him., and applied warm cocks and pigeons newly killed, but with no success. ... In his extremity, they tried all manner of conclusions upon him, as letting him blood in the nose, and whatsoever else they could im- agine; and, at the last cast, gave him a quintessence sent by Sir Walter Raleigh, which, he says, they should have applied sooner, that brought him to some sort of sense, and opening his eyes, and some will needs say, speech, but all failed again presently. Amongst the rest he [Raleigh] hath lost his greatest hope, and was grown into special confidence with him, inso- much that he had moved the king divers times for him. and had, lastly, a grant that he should be delivered out of the Tower before Christmas. ... It is observed that this late prince never cast or shed his teeth from his infancy, which, when Butler heard some days since, he prophesied that he was not vitalls or long-lived. . . . The Lady Elizabeth is much afflicted with this loss, and not without good cause, for he did extraordinarily affect her, and, during his sickness, inquired still after her ; and the last words he spoke in good sense, they say, were, " Where is my dear sister?" . . . Nov. 19th, 161 2. . . . The king was quickly weary of Kensington, because he said the wind blew thorough the walls that he could not lie warm in his bed. He came to Whitehall yesterday was sevennight and went away on Tuesday last to Theobalds, and is this day for Royston. 50 James I. He carried the Count Palatine along with him, whose marriage, by this late accident, is retarded, because it would be thought absurd that foreign ambas- sadors, coming to condole the prince's death, should find us feasting and dancing ; so that it is deferred till May- day, and the mourning for the prince to continue till the 24th of March, but the tiancing is appointed the 27th of December, and his counsellors hope and do their best to advance the mar- riage soon after. Dec. 17th, 1612. ... Sir Francis Bacon hath set out new essays, where, in a chapter of De- formity, the world takes notice that he paints out his little cousin to the life. Dec. 31st. . . . Sir Thomas Lake, on Sunday last, outstripped his competitors by one, by reading the contract betwixt the Palsgrave and the Lady Elizabeth, which is the part of a principal secre- tary, pracire conccptis verbis, in such solemn business. But they say he had translated the words of our Commun- ion Book into French so badly, and pronounced them worse, that it moved an unseasonable laughter, as well in the contractors as standers-by, . . . This affiancing was solemnized in the great banqueting-room on Sunday be- fore dinner, in the presence of the king and great store of the nobility ; but the queen was absent, being troubled, as they say, with the gout. The king was not out of his chamber in three or four days before, nor since, having a spice of the same disease. . . . Feb. 4th, 1612-13. . . . The Prince Palatine feasted all the council the last week, and carried himself with great commendation, but specially he respected the archbishop and his followers above all tlic rest as having received only at his hands en- tertainment and kind usage since his coming into England. On Sunday last and on Candlemas-day he and his lady were solemnly asked openly in the chapel by the Bishop of Bath and Wells, and the next Sunday is the last time of asking. There is extraordinary preparations for fireworks and fights upon the water, with three castles, built upon eight western barges, and one great castle upon the land, over against the court. One or two of the pinnaces are come already from Rochester ; and divers other vessels, to the number of six and thirty, are provided, some like galleys, some galleasses, and some like car- racks, and other ships of war ; and above 500 watermen, already pressed, and 1,000 musqueteers of the Trained Bands, in the shires hereabout, made ready for this service, which, in all computation, cannot stand the King in so little as £5,000. On Tuesday, I took occasion to go to court, because I had never seen the Palsgrave nor the Lady Elizabeth near hand for a long time. I had my full view of them both, but will not tell you what I think ; but only this, that he owes his mistress nothing, if he were a king's son, as she is a king's daughter. The worst is, methinks, he is much too young and small timbered to undertake such a task. Letter from JoJni Cliamberlain, Esq.^ to Mrs. Car let on. London, February iS, 161 2-13. Though Mr. Wake be now coming, and looks for his dispatch within a day or two, who is able to make a large discourse of all that passed at this wed- ding; yet because this is like to arrive there before him, I will give you a little touch or taste of that, whereof James I. SI you may receive from him full and complete satisfaction. On Thursday night the fireworks were reasonably well performed, all save the last castle of fire, which bred most expectation, and had most devices, but when it came to execution had worst success. On Saturday, likewise, the fight upon the water came short of that show and brags have been made of it ; but they pretend the best to be behind, and left for another dav, which was the winning of the castle on land,. But the king and all the company took so little delight to see no other activity but shooting and putting of guns, that it is quite given over, and the navy unrigged, and the castle pulled down the rather for that there were divers hurt in the former fight, as one lost both his eyes, another both his hands, another one hand, with divers others maimed and hurt, so that to avoid further harm it was thought best to let it alone ; and this is the conclusion of all the preparation, with so much ex- pense of powder and money, which amounted to no less than £9,000. On Sunday, I was fetched from Paul's, where I was set at the sermon, to see the bride go to church ; and though it were past ten o'clock before we came there, yet w^e found a noble window reserved in the Jewel House, wdiich was over against her coming down. A pair of stairs set off the gal- lery, made along the court into the hall, so that we had as much view as a short passage could give ; but the ex- cess of bravery, and the continual suc- cession of new company, did so dazzle me, that I could not observe the tenth part of that I wished. The bridegroom and bride were both in a suit of cloth of silver, richly embroidered with sil- ver, her train carried up by thirteen young ladies, or lords' daughters, at least, besides five or six more that could not come near it. These were all in the same livery with the bride^ though not so rich. The bride was married in her hair, that hung down long, with an exceeding rich coronet on her head, which the king valued the next day at a million of crowns. Her two bridemen were the young prince and the Earl of Northampton. The king and queen both followed, the queen all in white, but not very rich, saving in jewels. The king, me- thought, was somewhat strangely at- tired in a cap and feather, with a Spanish cape and a long stocking. The chapel was very straitly kept, none suffered to enter under the degree of a baron, but the three lords chief justices. In the midst there was a handsome stage or scaffolding made on the one side, whereon sat the king, prince. Count Palatine, and Count Henry of Nassau. On the other side, the queen, with the bride and one or two more. Upon this stage they were married by the Archbishop of Canter- bury, assisted by the Bishop of Bath and Wells, who made the sermon. It was done all in English, and the Prince Palatine had learned as much as concerned his part reasonably perfectly. The French, Venetian, and State's am- bassadors, dined that day with the bride. The Spanish ambassador was sick, and the archduke's was invited for the day, but would not come. That night was the lord's masque, whereof I hear no great commendation, save only for riches, their devices being long and tedious, and more like a play than a masque. The next morning, the king went to visit these young turtles that were coupled on St. Valentine's day, and did strictly examine him whether he were a true son-in-law and was surticiently assured. That after- noon the king, prince. Count Palatine, with divers others, ran at the ring, and, 52 James I when that was ended, and the king and prince gone, the Palsgrave mounted upon a high-bounding horse, which he managed so lii"t^ her wisdom infinitely beyond it. I heard her dis- course with her mother, and the ladies about her with extraordinary discre- tion and quickness. She dances (the which I am a witness of) as well as ever I saw any creature. They say she sings most sweetly ; I am sure she looks so. 2. Extracts from Private Letters. (Court and Times of Charles I., Vol. I.) John Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton. London, April 23rd, 1625. . . . The French match is said to be in great forwardness, and to be cele- brated to-morrow. . . . May 6th. . . . Thcjiancaillcs were performed on Thursday, being their ascension, and the marriage on Sunday last, our May- day. We had notice of the former on Saturday night, and on Wednesday evening we had bells and bonfires in abundance upon news of the latter. The bride is to set forward on Thurs- day next. . . . Here is great prepa- ration for shows and pageants, yet it is thought the coronation will not be till October, specially if the sickness in- crease. . . . May 28th. ... I was minded to send a list of the Ladies that are appointed to meet the queen at Dover : but it varies and alters so often, that it were to no pur- pose. Their number is about four or live and twenty : all their coaches fur- nished with six horses, which comes altogether now in fashion ; a vanity of excessive charge, and of little use. Dr. Mcddus to Rev. Joseph Mead. London, June 17th, 1625. The last night, at five o'clock, (there being a very great shower) the king and queen, in the royal barge, with many other barges of honour, and thousands of boats, passed through London bridge to Whitehall ; infinite numbers, besides those in wherries, standing in houses, ships, lighters, western barges ; and on each side of the shore fifty good ships discharging their ordnance as their majesties passed along by, as, last of all, the Tower did — such a peel as, I believe, she never before heard the like. The king and queen were both in green suits. The barge windows, notwithstanding the vehement shower, were open, and 62 Charles I. all the people shouting amain. She hath already given some good signs of hope that she may ere long, by God's blessing, become ours in religion. She arrived at Dover on Sunday, about eight in the evening, lay there in the castle that night, whither the king rode on Monday morning from Canter- bury, came thither after ten of the clock, and she being at meat, he stayed in the presence till she had done, which she advertised of, made short work, rose, went unto him, kneeled down at his feet, took and kissed his hand. The king took her up in his arms, kissed her, and talking with her, cast down his eyes towards her feet (she, seeming higher than report was, reach- ing to his shoulder), which she soon perceiving, discovered and showed him her shoes, saying to this effect: "Sir, I stand upon mine own feet ; I have no helps by art. Thus high I am and am neither higher nor lower." She is nimble and quick, black eyed, brown haired, and, in a word, a brave lady, though perhaps a little touched with the green sickness. . . . The bells rung till midnight, and all the streets were full of bonfires, and in this one street were above thirty. June 24th. Last vSunday, the queen and hers . . . were at high mass. . . . The chapel goes on again. She had twenty- nine priests, fourteen of them Thea- tines, and fifteen seculars, besides a bishop, a young man under thirty years old. Rxtract from another letter^ savic date. The priests have been very importu- nate to have the chapel finished at St. James's, but thcv fnid the king very slow in doing tliat. 11 is answer (some told nic) was, that if tlic (|ucen's closet where they now say mass, were not large enough, let them have it in the great chamber ; and if the great cham- ber was not wide enough, they might use the garden ; and if the garden would not serve their turn, then was the park the fittest place. So, seeing themselves slighted, they grow weary of England, and wish themselves at home again. Besides, unto the king's devotions they cannot add, nor with all their stratagems can bring him in the least love with their fopperies. . . . John Chafnberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton , June 35th. . . . The queen hath brought, they say, such a poor, pitiful sort of women, that there is not one worth the looking after, saving herself and the Duchess of Chevreuse, who though she be fair, yet paints foully. They (the parliament) begin to mut- ter about matters of religion, that the king promised them, when he was prince, that he would never contract a marriage with conditions derogatory to that we profess. . . . Some spare not to say that all goes backward since this connivance in religion came in, both in our wealth, honour, valour, and reputa- tion, and that it is visibly seen God blesses nothing that we take in hand. Extract from the Aiitob iography of Sir Simonds d' Exves. (London., J 845- Vol. I. p. 272.) 1635. On Thursday, the 30th and last day of this instant June, I went to White- hall purposely to see the Qiieen ; which I did fully all the time she sat at din- ner, and perceived her to be a most ab- solute delicate Indy, after I had exactly surveyed all the features of her face, much enlivened by her radiant and sp;irkling black eye. Besides, her de- Charles I. 63 portment amongst her women was so sweet and humble, and her speech and looks to her other servants so mild and gracious, as I could not abstain from divers deep-fetched sighs to consider that she wanted the knowledge of the true religion. Rev. Joseph Mead to Sir Martin Sttiteville. July 3nd, 1625. . . . The friars so frequent the queen's private chamber that the king is much offended, and so told them, having (as it is said) granted them more than sufficient liberty in public. This Mr. Mordaunt writes to me, and, besides, that which follows: — "The queen," saith he, "howsoever little of stature, is of spirit and vigour, and seems of a more than ordinary resolu- tion. With one frown, divers of us being at Whitehall to see her being at dinner, and the room somewhat ovei- heated with the fire and company, she drove us all out of the chamber. I suppose none but a queen could have cast such a scowl." . . . Oct. 3rd, 1625. ... I found a letter written to a friend of mine . . . from a brother of his; then at the court, at Tichfield, whose contents are as follows : "Tichfield, Hampshire, Sept. 24th. — On Sunday, the i8th of this instant, there preached at the queen's court, be- fore the officers Protestants, the minis- ter of that town. In the middle of his sermon, the queen, with her lord cham- berlain and ladies of honour, came through that congregation, and made such a noise, as was admired, inso- much that the preacher was at a stand, and demanded whether he might pro- ceed or no, but they still went on ; and they passed through the hall where the sermon was preaching, and went to the court gates, and before the sermon was ended returned the same way back again, with a greater noise and disorder than before. It is said, the queen was set on to do it by her bishop, confessor and priests. Upon the Tuesday fol- lowing, the minister, walking in his garden, was shot at with hail-shot, which did miss him miraculously, it alighting about him." . . . Oct. 8th. . . . Besides that pretty business of the preacher at Tichfield, Dr. Weemes tells me another like it, which happened while he was at court there, some weeks since, viz. : — That the king and queen dining together in the presence, Mr. Hacket being then to say grace, the confessor would have prevented him, but that Hacket shoved him away. Whereupon the confessor went to the queen's side, and was about to say grace again, but that the king, pulling the dishes unto him, and the carvers falling to their business, hindered. When the dinner was done, he thought, standing by the queen, to have been be- fore Mr. Hacket ; but Mr. Hacket again got the start. The confessor, never- theless, begins his grace as loud as Mr. Hacket, with such a confusion, that the king, in a great passion, instantlv rose from the table, and, taking the queen by the hand, retired into the bedchamber. Was not this a priestly discretion ? Dec. 17th, 162^ . . . The king will keep his Christ- mas, they say, at Whitehall, and re- moves on Thursday. On Tuesday last, I am told, the queen w^as in the Ex- change, and went nimbly from shop to shop, and bought some knacks, till, being discovered, she made away with all the haste she could, and went that night to Hampton Court. This was a French trick, like to washing in the Thames last summer. 64 Charles I. Jan. I 2th, 1625-6. The queen's servants, perceiving they were like to be discarded if they took not the oath of allegiance, have now, as I hear, all taken it saving the priests. To the Rev. Joseph .Mead. Jan, 13th. . . . The same afternoon the queen was at the Tower, in her rich coach, with seven others — her confessor's coach being foremost, and hers following next after — and returned by torchlight. . . . Rev. Joseph Mead to Sir Martin Stutevillc. Christ College, Feb. 4th, 1625-6. The coronation of the king was on Thursday (as passengers from London yesterday tell us), but private. The king went to Westminster Church by water; the queen was not crowned, but stood at a window in the meantime, looking on, and her ladies frisking and dancing in the room. March 4th. . . . On Tuesday, February 21st, the queen and her ladies acted a pas- toral before the king, wherein herself had the greatest part, and repeated, it is said, 600 French verses by heart. Mr. Pory to the Rev. Joseph Mead. July 1st, 1626. . . . On Monday, about three in the afternoon, tlie king, passing into the queen's side [of the palace], and find- ing some Frenchmen, her sei-v'ants, un- reverently dancing and curvetting in her presence, took her by the hand, and led her into his lodgings, locking the door after him, and shutting out all, saving only the Qiieen ; presently upon this my Lord Conway called forth the French bishop and others of that clergy into St. James's Park, where he told them, the king's pleasure was, all her majesty's servants of that nation, men and women, young and old, should depart the kingdom, together with the reasons that enforced his majesty so to do. The bishop said much upon it that, being in the nature of an ambas- sador, he could not go, unless the king his master should command him. But he was told again, that the king his master had nothing to do here in Eng- land ; and that, if he were unwilling to go, England would send force enough to convey him away hence. The bishop had as much reason to dance loth to depart, as the king and all his well-affected subjects had to send him packing ; for he had as much power of conferring orders, and dis- pensing with sacraments, oaths, etc., as the pope could give ; and so, by consequence, was a most dangerous instrument to work the pope's ends here. The king's message being thus de- livered by my Lord Conway, his lord- ship, accompanied with Mr. Treasurer, and Mr. Comptroller, went into the Qiieen's lodgings, and told all the French likewise, that were there, that his majesty's pleasure was, they should all depart thence to Somerset House, and remain there till they knew fur- ther his majesty's pleasure. The women howled and lamented, as if they had been going to execution, but all in vain ; for the yeomen of the guard, by that lord's appointment, thrust them and all their country folks out of the queen's lodgings, and locked the doors after them. It is said also, the queen, when she understood the design, grew very im- patient, and broke the glass windows with her fist. But since, I hear, her rage is appeased, and the king and she, since they went together to Nonsuch, have been very jocund together. The same day, the French being all at Somerset House, the king, as I have Charles I, 6s heard some affirm, went thither, and made a speech to them to this purpose : that lie hoped the good king, his brother of France, woiikl not take amiss what he had done , for the French he said, (particuUir persons he would tax) had occasioned many jars and discontents between the king and him ; such, indeed, as longer were in- sufferable. He prayed them, therefore, to pardon him, if he sought his own ease and safety; and said, moreover, that he had given order to liis treasurei to reward every one of them for their year's service. So the next morning, being Tuesday, there was distributed among tliem £ii,ooo, in money, and about £20,000 worth of jewels Of this magnanimous act I think the king hath such satisfactory reasons, as will stop the mouths of all gain-sayers. One might be the extravagant power of this bishop, who, when he was last in France, suing to be a secretary of state, fell short of that, and so took in- structions from the pope's nuncio; which in case he could bring to effect, he was promised a cardinal's hat, which now lies in the dust. The rest of the clergy were the most superstitious, tur- bulent, and Jesuitical priests that could be found in all France, very fit to make firebrands of sedition in a foreign state; so that his majesty, as long as he gave them entertainment, did but nourish so many vipers in his bosom. Nay, their insolences towards the queen were not to be endured ; for, besides that these knaves would, by way of confession, interrogate her how often the king had kissed her ; and no longer ago than upon St. James' s-day last those hypo- critical dogs made the poor queen walk afoot (some add barefoot) from her house at St. James's to the gallows at Tyburn, thereby to honor the saint of the day in visiting that holy place, where so many martyrs, forsooth, had shed their blood in defence of the Cath- olic cause. Had they not also made her to dabble in the dirt, in a foul morning, from Somerset House to St. James's, her luciferian confessor riding along by her in his coach.* Yea, they have made her to go barefoot, to spin, to cut her meat out of dishes, to wait at the table, to serve her servants, with many other ridiculous and absurd pen- ances ; and if they dare thus insult over the daughter, sister, and wife of so great kings, what slavery would they not make us, the people to undergo? Be- sides all this, letters of some of the French about her majesty ai'e said to have been intercepted, by which it hath appeared they have not only practised with the pope on one side and the English papists on the other side, but have had intelligence also with the Spaniard. It was intended they should have presently departed, but they are not yet gone, and Monday next is said to be peremptory day of their departure. Meanwhile, they took possession of all the queen's apparel and linen which they found at Somerset House, as being their vales (whether plate or jewels also I can not certainly tell) ; but the queen having left her but one gown and two smocks to her back, these French hooters were entreated by some of the lords of the council to send her majesty some apparel ; so they sent her only one old satin gown, keeping all the residue to themselves. Her master *That Charles's provocation was pretty strong is evidenced by the tone of a letter to Buckinghmn r •' 1 coinniaiid you to send all the French away to-morrow out of town, if you can, by fair means, but stick not lonsr in di-^putin);; otherwise force them away, driving them away like so many wild beasts, until you have shipped them, and so the devil go with them. Let me hear of no answer Dut of the performance of my com- mand. So I rest your faithful, constant, loving friend, C. R." There were, according to a letter from Mr. Pory to Rev Joseph Mead (Aug. 11, 1626), no less than 440 of these amiable attendants. — Ed. 66 Charles I. of the horse, likewise, the Count de Lepieres, laid claim to all the horses and furniture under his charge ; but in vain. It is hoped, after they are gone, the queen will by degrees find the sweetness of liberty, in being exempted from those beggarly rudiments of popish penance. . . . To tJic Rev. Joseph Mead. London, July 21, 1626. We hear of a falling out between the king and queen for her going in a kind of devotion to visit that holy place of Tyburn. This can those damned priests about her make her do. Aug. 1 1. Since my last, you shall understand, that Monday last were attending at Somerset House thirty coaches, and fifty carts, to have, after dinner, carried the French and their goods away. . . . They would not depart, till they were disengaged of moneys they stood en- gaged for, for the queen : as one bill of j£)4,ooo for necessaries of the queen ; a second was the apothecary's bill of £Soo, for drugs; and the third of the bishop's ... of £1,500, for his (un)- holy water. . . . Aug. 17th. . . . They were very sullen at their first setting out from hence; but their kind entertainment by the way made them more tame by that time they came to Dover. A fellow there threw a stone at Madame St. George, as she was newly entered the boat ; where- upon an English knight that sat next her stepped on shore and gave the fel- low a wound, which cost him his life. The bishop being come to Rochester, met there his commission from the French king to ordain him ambassador, notice whereof he presently sent his maj- esty ; but the king utterly rejected him, saying he h;id done so many wrongs, as he should never see his face more. Description of Qiieen Henrietta Maria in 1642, (From Memoirs of Sophia of the Palatinate. Translated by For- rester.) The exquisite portraits of Van Dyck had given me [The future Electress was a little girl of nine at this time] such an exalted idea of all the English ladies that I was surprised to find the queen, whom I had thought so beauti- ful on canvas, to be a little woman, with long, scraggly arms, shoulders uneven and teeth like fortifications pro- jecting from her mouth. All the same, after looking at her well, I found her eyes very lovely, her nose well-shaped and her complexion admirable. She did me the honor of saying that she thought I looked a little like her daugh- ter, which pleased me so much that after that I really did find her beautiful. I overheard the English milords say that when 1 grew up I would eclipse all my sisters and this gave me an affec- tion for the whole nation, so pleasant it is to be admired when one is young. Charles L 67 GROUP X. PARLIAMENTARV GRIE\ANCES AGAIXST CITARLES I. I. Extracts from the Autobiography of Sir Simonds d'Ewes (London, 1S45.) 1625. . . . The present parliament, whicli had been adjourned or prorogued on July the nth, at London, to begin again at Oxford on August the ist, was now suddenly and unexpectedly dissolved, to the great grief of all good subjects that loved true religion, their king, and the Commonwealth. For this, being the first Parliament of our royal Charles, should have been an happy occasion and means to have united and settled the affections of Prince and people, in a firm concord and correspondence. The Duke of Buckingham, a most unfortunate man, being now questioned for sundry par- ticulars, would rather hazard the final overthrow of the public, than endeavour to purge himself and justify his actions by a speedy and humble defence. And a happy moderation doubtless it had been in the House of Commons, if at that meeting they had winked at the Duke's errors and fallen upon the con- sideration of many particulars in Church and Commonwealth, which more needed their help and assistance. But what the Divine Providence hath decreed must come to pass. 2. Extracts from Whitelocke's Me- morials. (Oxford, 1S53. Vol. L) [Whitelocke was a member of Parlia- ment.] 1626. The king finding the discontents of his subjects increased, thought fit to call another parliament. . . . The commons began to fall upon the public grievances; the miscarriage of the late voyage to Cadiz ; the misem- ploymcnt of the king's revenue; evil counsels ; favouring of papists ; the loans, taxes, and many other, which they referred to committees. The privy council required the bishop of Durham to apprehend such of his majesty's subjects as should be pres- ent at mass, and to commit them to prison. . . . The king by message and the lords press the commons for supplies. . . . Mr. Clement Coke, in his speech in the house of commons concerning griev- ances, said, that it were better to die by an enemy than to suffer at home. . . . The king sent a smart letter to the speaker, pressing for present supplies; and promising redress of grievances presented in a dutiful and mannerly way. . . . To this the commons returned a gen- eral answer, promising a supply : the king replied, as to the clause of pre- senting grievances, that they should apply themselves to redress grievances, not to enquire after them. And said, "I will not allow any of my servants to be questioned among you, much less such as are of eminent place, and near unto me. I see you especially aim at the duke [Buckingham] : I wonder who hath so altered your affections towards him." Then he . . . concludes, " I would you would hasten for my supply, or else it will be worse for yourselves ; for if any evil happen, I think I shall be the last that shall feel it. . . . Sir John Elliot made a bold and sharp speech against the duke, and present grievances : yet in the midst of those agitations, the commons remem- bered the king's necessities, and voted 68 Charles I to grant three subsidies and three fifteens. . . . The king . . . mentioned Mr. Coke, and said, it was better for a king to be invaded and ahnost destroyed, by a foreign power, than to be despised by his own subjects. And liids them re- member, that the calling, sitting and dissolving of parliaments was in liis power. . . . At a conference with the lords, tiie commons sent up an impeachment against the duke of Bucks [B icking- ham], managed by eiglit of their mem- bers. Sir Dudley Digges made an eloquent introduction, comparing Eng- land to the world, the commons to the earth and sea, the king to the sun, the lords to the planets, the clergy to the fire, the judges and magistrates to the air, the duke of Bucks to a blazing star. The articles were I. The sale of offices and multiplicity of great offices in the duke. II. His buying the otfice of ad- miral. . . . IV. The neglect of the duty and trust of his office of admiral, whereby pirates infested our coasts and trade decayed. . . . These were ag- gravated by Mr. Pym. XII. His em- bezzling the king's money, and pro- curing grants to himself of crown lands of a great value. Upon this Mr. Sher- land enlarged, and computed the sum of his gifts to £284, 39^. XIII. The plaster and potions which the duke caused to be given to king James in his sickness, a transcendent presiunp- tion of a dangerous consequence. This was aggravated by Mr. Wands- ford, and sir John Elliot made the Epi- logue to the impeachment. Sir Dudley Diggs and sir John IClliot were committed to the tower ; and the king came to the lords' house, and told them of it : and that he could clear Bucks of every one of the matters whereof he was accused. . . . The commons, upon commitment of their members, caused the door of the house to be shut, and would not pro- ceed in any other business till they were righted in their liberties. Whereupon sir Dudley Carleton in a speech told them, that in other coun- tries, particidarly in France, they hat! formeiiy parliaments, as we have, but when their parliamentary liberty was turnetl into tumultuary license, and their kings found how those councils endeavored to curb them, they took awav and abolished those parliaments; and now the common people, wanting good food, looked more like ghosts than men, and went in canvass clothes and wooden shoes. . . . His [Sir Dud- ley Carleton' s] friends had much ado to keep him from being brought upon his knees to the bar for his speech. . . . But he went on . . . At this time Cambridge chose the duke of Bucks for their chancellor, to please the king, and shew their dislike to the commons. . . They [the commons] agreed upon a remonstrance against the duke, and ccwi- cerning the king's taking of tunnage and poundage, though not granted to him by parliament. . . . The parlia- ment was dissolved June 15th, 1626, inihappilv. Thus this great, warm, and ruffiing j^arliament had its period. Letter of Sir Simo)ids d' It'ces to Sir Martin Stuteville. May 1 1 . . . . The king was, this morning, in the upper house, and there com- plained of Sir John Elliot, for com- paring the duke to Sejanus, in which, he said, implicitly he must intend him- self Tiberius. Shortly after ... he sent both him and Sir Dudley Digges to the Tower. Charles I 69 3. Extract from Sir Simonds d' Ewes' Autobiography. 1626. Infinite almost was the sadness of each man's heart, and the dejection of his countenance that truly loved the Church or Commonwealth, at the sud- den and abortive breach of the present Parliament on Thursday, the 15th day of this instant June. For the House of Commons having transmitted up George Duke of Buckingham to the Lords, as guilty of many great and enormous crimes, and especially because he had given a potion and ministered plasters to King James, in his last sickness, of which it was doubted he died ; and the Upper House thereupon, and for some other offences, intending to question the said Duke for his life ; all those pro- ceedings received a sudden check and stop by this heavy and fatal dissolution. . . . All men that truly loved God, their king and country, had just cause to lament so dismal and sad an accident. 4. Extracts from Private Letters. (In Court and Times of Charles I.) Rev. Jos. Mead to Sir Martin Stiitcville. Christ College, July 22nd, 1626. ... On Monday the judges sat in Westminster Hall to persuade the people to pay subsidies ; but there arose a great tumultuous shout amongst them. "A parliament ! a parliament ! or else no subsidies." . . . July 24th. . . . This ill success in those and some other places make a speech in the mouths of some, as if his majesty would supply himself by the sale of lands ifi capite. . . . They of Scotland cry out amain of the Duke of Bucking- ham, saying they will know how King James, the Duke of Lennox, the Mar- quis of Hamilton came to their end. Mr. Pory to Rev. Jos. Mead. Aug. 17th, 1626. . . . There is much talk of both raising silver and gold coin two shil- lings in the pouml, that the king may make gain thereof. . . . to Rev. Joseph Mead. August 25th, 1626. Here hath been much ado about our new coinage of silver and gold, for which the king is to have in a pound weight of gold 52 s., whereas it was before but 15s.; and 3 s. 6 d. for a pound weight of silver, which was before but 2 s. 6 d. The Lords have sitten many times about it, and sent for some merchants for their opinions of it ; whOj I know, are of opinion it is a most dangerous project for the king and kingdom ; for that although at first the king may, perhaps, get much by the coinage, yet it will ovei'throw trade by the altering of the exchange, much impoverish king and all men in their revenues, improve Spain's bullion, enhance the prices of all things, and for the profit occasion foreign countries to counterfeit truly our coin, and there- by deprive the king of his hope by coinage, and therefore is thought will not hold. to the Rev. Jos. Mead. London, Oct. 6th, 1626. Though the parishes of St. Margaret's and St. Martin's in Westminster have yielded to lend the king, according to the date demanded of five subsidies ; yet St. Clement's parish, the Strand, the Duchy, with the Savoy, have caused a riot, the most of them denying to lend, and stand ready for a press groat rather than yield a jot. Amongst them, the Prophet Ball, the tailor, is the chief man, who, for his boldness in advising the Lords to more lawful councils, is fast in the messenger's 70 Charles I. hands. He ciuoted Scripture to them mightily. Of these aforementioned were those, who at the first, when the subsidies were demanded, cried out for a parliament. Unsig}icd Letter front Lo)idon. Feb. 2nd, 1626-7. This week are ten knights and gentle- men of quality, of Northamptonshire, committed to several prisons for refus- ing to subscribe and lend. . . . Lin- colnshire did little better than rebel. . . . Shropshire hath utterly denied, and so hath Devonshire, and the t^entle- men of Warwickshire, that are sent for up, do refuse to come. What dire events may this next summer follow upon this, together with the enmity of Spain,* France, and Flanders, God onlv knows and can avert. Rev. Jos. Mead to Sir Martin Stuteville. Christ College, Feb. 3d, Shrove Eve, 1626-7. Besides what is in the enclosed, holding the bottom of my second letter against the fire till it grew brown, I read as followeth : " Sir — Will \()U believe that the duke [Buckingham] should be carried in his box by six men to St. James's to tennis, and the king walk by him on foot? It is true. I doubt not but you have heard of the play in Christmas, which was begun again at tiie duke's entering, the king having heard one full act." Because my author was so private, I thought not fit to make it so common as the rest. Unsigned Letter from London. Feb. 9, 1626-7. There is a new plot now on foot for money. Every knight bachelor sliall have a ril)and, with a jewel of £5, from the king, to wear continually for distinction between them and gentle- men, for which they must pay presently £25, and the refusers to be degraded. Baronets for the like to pay £40. Unsigned Letter fro/n London. March i6th, 1626-7. Though but few or none yet know of it, I can assure you, there is in agi- tation a royal visitation among the clergy, which will strike as deep as the loan of five subsidies doth with the laity ; and it is very likelv to proceed ; the particulars whereof, with tlie pro- jectors, you shall know hereafter. Letter to the Rev. Joseph Mead. Nov. 23, 1627. There is a new loan of 1 20 or JC 1 50,000 projected, to be paid in by the Lords and others of the Privy Council, and by the rich officers of the Chancery, the Exchequer, and the Court of Wards. Rev. Joseph ^Lead to Sir JLartin Stutevii/e. Candlemas Day, Feb. 2nd, 1627-S. Because the last news I heard is the best, and I am loth to keep you too long from it, you shall have it in the first place ; namely, that after many projects consulted upon, as base coin, whereof every man to receive a share, and an impost of two sliilliiiAj; J^:\X-7lf/j fcnlpft.t. -*• 4!r -^ T/rOMAs Earle VI /rem i/fTJ'n/f i 'p/Z/i/i i rcni ^■" v-« -^ ■^t^;f iyxvi/Co%.uxcrl^xn aKni^/i f or u "? iillliiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiifiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMfiiiiiiiiiiiitiniiiiiwiiiiiiiiiiii!miiiTT[iiiiijfiiiiiufiiin^ ;;Z k>/ .V rj<.\Fr OHDiL. LL in •f^'i x'a liter'' ^ oiin ti/ ^c"' i'f/ >.i . /i/t^i/Jbr/Ahat'tj .>rEn>jL'^i id y^rTiS'.vicc'f/ilr, iLA'u'c^t^L-n ^^^ '>'uiniiiiirniiMiiii::uMif:rwrii:i,iififiiiimiilijMmiiMitMiiiit.iiii:!tlii!i''1imi'liiiii!iii Charles I. 79 wine going thick from mouth to mouth without cups, and all th''s in the king's eye ; . . . there was no outgoing to returne ; and oft the sitting was till two, or three, or four o'clock. The first session was on Mononday the 22nd of March. All being sett, as I have said, the Prince in his robes on a little chyre at the syde of the throne, the Chamberland and Black-Rod went and fetched in my Lord Strafford ; he was alwayes in the same sute of black, as in doole. At the entrie he gave a low courtesie, proceeding a little, he gave a second, when he came to his dask a third, then at the barr, the fore- face of his dask, he kneeled : ryseing quicklie, he saluted both sides of the Houses, and then satt down. Some few of the Lords lifted their hatts to him ; this was his dailie carriage. My Lord Steward, in a sentence or two, shew that the House of Commons had accused the Earle of Strafford of High Treason, that he was there to answer; that they might manadge their evidence as they thought meet. They desyred one of the Clerks to read their impeachment. I sent you long agoe the printed copie. . . . On Tuesday the 13th, all being sett as before, Strafford made a speech large two liours and ane half ; went through all the articles. . . . To all he repeated not (nought) new, bot the best of his former answers ; and in the end, after some lashness and fagging, he made such ane pathetick oration for ane half houre, as ever comedian did upon a stage. The matter and ex- pression was exceeding brave : doubt- less, if he had grace or civill goodness, he is a most eloquent man. The speech you have it here in print. One pas- sadge made it most spoken of ; his breaking off in weeping and silence, when he spoke of his first wife. Some took it for a true defect of his mem- orie ; others, and the most part, for a notable part of his rhetorick ; some that true grief, and remorse at that remembrance, had stopped his mouth ; for they say, that his first Lady, the Earl of Clare's sister, being with child, and finding one of his 's letters, brought it to him, and chideing him therefore, he stroke her on the breast, whereof shortlie she died. Mr. Glyn did follow with a speech three houres long ; the great length of the speech made him fagg in the end. He referred the odiousness of the cryme to the handeling of another. This was Mr. Pym, who truelie, to the confession of all, in half ane hour, made one of the most eloquent, wise free speeches, that ever we heard, or I think shall ever hear. Some of the passages of it, and no more bot some, and these defaced, I send yow in print, as they have been taken in speaking 1)y some common hand. To humble the man, God lett his memorie faill him a little before the end. His papers he looked on; bot they could not help him to a point or two, so he behoved to passe them : I believe the King never heard a lec- ture of so free language against that his idolised prerogative. . . . For diverse dayes thereafter the House of Commons went on with their Bill of Attainture. Whenit wasreadie and read three diverse dayes, at last it was voyced and carried, only fifty-eight contradicting. For this there was great joy among us all, and praise to God. These friends of Straf- ford' s were much discountenanced by all honest men. Some printed their names, and fixed them on publict wayes. 1 1 . Conclusion of the Earl of Straf- ford' s Defence. (In Somers' Tracts, Edited by Walter Scott, Vol. IV. iSio.) . . . My lords, there yet remains another treason that I should be guilty 8o Charles I. of ; the endeavoring to subvert the fun- damental laws of the land, that they should now be treason together, that is not treason in any one part. . . . Under favor, my lords, I do not conceive that there is either statute law, nor common law, that doth declare the endeavoring to subvert the fundamental laws to be high treason. . . . And yet I have been diligent to enquire (as I believe you think it doth concern me to do). It is hard to be questioned for life and honor, upon a law that can not be shown. . . . Where hath this fire lain all this while, so many hundreds of years, without any smoke to discover it, till it thus burst forth to consume me and my children? Extreme hard in my opinion, that punishment should precede promulgation of a law, [that I should be] punished by a law subse- quent to the acts done. . . . My lords, it is hard in another respect, — that there should be no token set upon this offence, by which we should know it, no admonition by which we should be aware of it. If a man pass down the Thames in a boat, and it be split upon an anchor, no buoy being set as a token that there is an anchor there, that party that owns the anchor, by the maritime laws, shall give satisfaction for the damage done ; but if it were marked out, I must come upon my own peril. Now where is the mark upon this crime, where is the token that this is high treason.? If it be under water, and not above water, no human providence can avail, nor prevent my destruction. Lay aside all human wisdom, and let us rest upon divine revelation, if you will condemn before you forewarn of the danger. Oh my lords, may your lordships be pleased to give that regard unto the peerage of England, as never to suffer ourselves to be put on those nice points. ... If there must be a trial of wits, I do most humbly beseech you the sub- ject and matter may be somewhat else than the lives and honors of peers. Wy lords we find that in the prim- itive times, in the progression of the plain doctrine of the apostles, they brought the books of curious arts, and burned them, and so likewise, as I do conceive, it will be wisdom and provi- dence in your lordships, for your pos- terity and the whole kingdom, to cast from you into the fire these bloody and most mysterious volumes of construc- tive and arbitrary treason, and to be- take yourselves to the plain letter of the law and statute, that telleth us where the crime is, and by telling what is, and what is not, shows how to avoid it. And let us not be ambitious to be more wise and learned in the killing arts than our forefathers were. It is now full 240 years since ever any man was touched for this alledged crime (to this height) before myself: we have lived happily to oursehes at home, and we have lived gloriously to the world abroad. Let us rest con- tented with that which our fathers left us, and not awake those sleepy lions to our own destructions, by taking up a few musty records, that have lain so many ages by the \valls, quite forgotten and neglected. . . . !My lords, I have now troubled vou longer than I should have done : were it not for the interest of those dear pledges a saint in Heaven hath left me, I should be loath my lords (There he stopped). What I forfeit for myself, it is noth- ing, but that my indiscretion should forfeit for my child, it even woundeth me deep to the very soul. You will pardon my infirmity; something I should have said, but I am not able, (and sighed), therefore let it pass. And now, my lords, I have been, by the blessing of Almighty God, taught Charles I 8i that the afflictions of this Hfe present, are not to be compared to the eternal weight of glory that shall be revealed to us hereafter. And so, my lords, even so with tran- quility of mind, I do submit myself freely and clearly to your lordships' judgment, and whether that righteous judgment shall be to life or death, Te Deum laudamus, te dominum confitemur. 12. Extracts from Whitelocke's Me- morials. 1 64 1. Certainly never any man acted such a part on such a theatre with more wis- dom, constancy and eloquence, with greater reason, judgment and temper, and with a better grace in all his words and gestures, than this great and excel- lent person did ; and he moved the hearts of all his auditors (some few ex- cepted) to i-emorse and pity. . . . After this, a bill was brought into the house of commons to attaint the earl of high treason ; upon debate whereof, they voted him guilty of high treason. May I. The king called both houses of par- liament together, and did passionately desire of them not to proceed severely against the earl, whom he answered for, as to most of the main particulars of the charge against him ; tells them that in conscience he can not condemn the earl of high treason, and that neither fear nor any other respect should make him go against his con- science. . . . The bill for continuance of the par- liament was brought into the house the next morning after it was propounded. . . . This bill, and the act of attainder, being both passed by the commons, a conference was had with the lords after they had passed them ; and a message sent by some lords to the king, to en- treat his answer, who promised to satisfy them within two days. The king being much perplexed upon the tendering of these two bills to him, between the clamoui-s of a dis- contented people and an unsatisfied conscience; he took advice (as some reported) of several of the bishops, and of others his intimate councillors, what to do in this intricate affair ; and that the major part of them urged to him the opinions of the judges, that this was treason, and the bill legal. They pressed likewise the votes of the parliament, that he was but one man, that no other expedient could be found out to appease the enraged people, and that the consequences of a furious mul- titude would be very terrible. Upon all which they persuaded him to pass the bills. But the chief motive was said to be a letter of the Earl of Strafford, then sent unto him, wherein the gallant earl takes notice of these things, and what is best for his majesty in these straits, and to set his conscience at liberty : he doth most humbly beseech him for prevention of such mischief as may happen by his refusal to pass the bill, to remove him out of the way, "towards that blessed agreement which God, I trust, shall forever estab- lish betwixt you and your subjects. Sir, my consent herein shall more ac- quit you to God, than all the world can do besides : to a willing man there is no injury done." If not base betraying of their master by these passages, and by some private dealings, the king was persuaded to sign a commission to three lords to pass these two bills; and that he should ever be brought to it was admind [wondered at] by most of his subjects, as well as by foreigners. 82 Charles I. After he had signed these bills, the king sent secretary Carleton to the earl . . . who seriously asked the secretary whether his majesty had passed the bill or not ; as not believing without some astonishment that the king would have done it. And being assured that it was passed, he rose up from his chair, lift up his eyes to Heaven, laid his hand on his heart, and said, Put not your trust in princes^ nor in the sons of itien^for in til cm there is no salvation. . . . He made on the scaffold a most ingenious, charitable, and pious speech and pray- ers . . . and died with charity, cour- age, and general lamentation. . . . ernment, and deprive the king of his legal power, and to place on subjects an arbitrary and tyrannical power, by foul aspersions on his majesty and his government, to alienate the affections of his people, and to make him odious.'* 13. Extract from Whitelocke (The Five Members), 1641. The king being informed that some members of parliament had private meetings, and a correspondence with the Scots, and countenanced the late tumults from the city, he gave a warrant to repair to their lodgings, and to seal up the trunks, studies and chambers of the lord Kimbolton, Mr. Pym, Mr. Hampden, Mr. Hollis, sir Arthur Hasle- rigge, and Mr. Stroud ; which was done. The house of commons having notice hereof whilst it was in doing, Jan. 3rd, 1641, they passed this vote: . . . "that if any person whatsoever shall offer to arrest or detain the person of any member witliout first accjuaint- ing this house, that it is lawful for such member, or any person to assist him, and to stand upon his or their guard of defence, and to make a resistance, according to the protestation taken to defend the privileges of parliament." The king being put to it, caused articles of high treason and other mis- demeanors to be prepared against those five members, " For endeavouring to subvert the fundamental laws and gov- 14. Extract from Nehemiah Wal- lington. (Lond., 1S70. Vol. I. p, 2S2 ff.) 4th of January, Tuesday, the House of Commons meeting there was a Re- port made to the House, that his Majesty would be there that afternoon, to give answer to their petition delivered the night before. About two of the clock his IMajesty came into the House of Commons, and the Speaker rising out of his place, he sat therein ; and demanding of his prisoners, Mr. Pym, Mr. Hollis, and so the rest, who were not there to be found, he made a short speech, com- manding the House to send them to him so soon as they came, otherwise he would take them where he found them, and wished them to proceed in their affairs, without any fear of his con- cordancy with them to all their just requests, or words to that effect. So demanding his prisoners again, he left the House. . . . A great deliverance (of us all, but especially) of those Five dear Servants of God and worthy members of the House of Commons : Mr. Denzil Hol- lis, Sir Arthur Haslerigg, Mr. John Pym, Mr. John Hampden, and ISIr. William Stroud. O let this great Mercy of our God, on this day, the 4th of January 1642, never be forgotten to the world's end. But tell it to vour children, that they may tell it to their children, how God did miraculously deliver his servants on the 4th of Janu- ary, being Tuesday, 1642; how that " many soldiers, and papists, and Charles I. 83 others, to the number of five hundred, came with his Majesty to the said House of Commons, armed with swords, pistols and other weapons, and divers of them pressed to the door of the said House, thrust away the door-keepers, and placed themselves between the said door, and the ordinary attendances of his Majesty : holding up their swords, and some holding up their pistols ready cocked near the said door, and saying, ' I am a good jSIarks- man, I can hit right, I warrant you;'' and they not suffering the said door, according to the custom of Parliament, to be shut ; but said they would have the door open, and if any opposition were against them, they made no ques- tion but they should make their party good, and that they would maintain their party, and when several Members of the House of Commons were com- ing into the House, their attendants desiring: that room might be made for them ; some of the said soldiers an- swered, ' Let them come and be hanged, what ado is here with the House of Commons ; ' and some of the said sol- diers did likewise violently assault, and by force disarm, some of the Attend- ants and Servants of the Members of the House of Commons, waiting in the room next the said House ; and upon the King' s return out of the said House, many of them by wicked oaths, and otherwise, expressed much discontent that some Members of the said House, for whom they came, were not there. And others of them said, When comes the word? And no word being given at his Majesty's coming out, they cried ' A lane ; a lane ; ' afterwards some of them being demanded, what they thought the said company intended to have done, answered. That, question- less, in the posture they were set, if the word had been given, they should have fallen upon the House of Commons, and have cut all their throats ; upon all which we are of opinion that it is suffi- ciently proved that the coming of the said soldiers, papists and others, with his IMajesty to the House of Commons on Tuesdav the 4th of January, in the manner aforesaid, was to take away some of the members of the said House, and if they should have found opposi- tion, or denial, then to have fallen upon the said House in a hostile manner : And we do hereby declare that the same was a traitorous design against the King and Parliament. And whereas the said Mr. Hollis, Sir Arthur Hasle- rigg, IMr. Pym, Mr. Hampden, and Mr. Strode, upon the report of the coming of the said soldiers . . . did, with the approbation of the House, absent themselves from the service of the House, for the avoiding the great and many inconveniences, which other- wise apparently might have happened : Since which time a printed paper in the form of a proclamation hath issued out for the apprehending and imprison- ing of them, therein suggesting that through the conscience of their own guilt thev were absent and fled, not willing to submit themselves to justice : We do further declare that the said printed paper is false and scandalous and illegal." . . , On Thursday the 6th of January, the Committees of both houses met at Guild Hall. . . . This Thursday night being the 6th of January, I desire might never be forgotten. For in the dead time of the night there was great bouncing at every man's door to be up in their arms pres- ently, and to stand on his guard, both in the City and Suburbs, for we heard (as we lay in our beds) a great cry in the streets that there were horse and foot coming against the city. So the gates were shut, and the cullisses let down, and the chains put across the 84 Charles I. corners of our streets, and every man ready on his arms. And women and children did then arise, and fear and trembling entered on all. And some took sucli fright that night that it cost them their lives; as Alderman Adams his wife, my neighbour, she took such a fright that night that she died of it the next Tuesday at five o'clock in the morning. And although some might slight, jest, and scoff at this, and think and say there was no cause, and that we were more fright than hurt; ytt it is certain enougli, that had not the Lord of His mercy stirred us up to bestir ourselves, it would have gone hard enough with us. Again there was great cause of fear, being but a day or two since the King in a rage went with his five hundred soldiers with their pis- tols and swords, intending death to those five good men (Mr. Pvm etc.) . . . and the King having hundreds of soldiers out of the north, of a fierce countenance, skilful to destroy; and I heard of deadly weapons newly made, which were to be struck into the body, and could not be pulled out again. . . . 15. Extracts from Whitelocke. Great numbers of people gathered together in a very tumultuous manner about Whitehall and Westminster ; and it was a dismal thing to all sober men, especially members of parliament, to see and hear them. The king fearing danger from them, or perhaps by the unfortunate counsel of papists as some reported, thought fit to remove to Hampton Court, and took with him the queen, prince, and duke of York. . . . Tlie next day the five members were triumphantly brought from London to Westminster by water, by a great num- ber of citizens and seamen in boats and barges, with guns and flags, braving as they passed by Whitehall, and making large protestations at Westminster of their adlierence to the parliament. . . . Tiie parliament were busy in debates touching the ordering of the militia for the several counties ; in which some declared their opinions that the power of the militia was solely in the king, and ought to be left to him . . . others were of the opinion that the king had not this power in him, but that it was solely in the parliament, and that if the king refused to order the same accord- ing to the advice of the parliament, that then they by law might do it with- out him : and this was moved to be now done by the parliament. . . . Then they ordain the power of the militia, for defence of the parliament, Tower, and city of London. . . . Aug. 22. The king at Nottingham erects his standard. . . . The earl of Essex's colours was a deep yellow, others setting up another colour were held malignants, and ill-affected to the parliament's cause. . . . About the beginning of November the two princes palatine, Rupert and Maurice, arrived in England, and were put into command in the army of the king their uncle ; who had now got together a potent army. [Civil War.] ^ZBr'FRINCI.PS RUFSRT.DEI GRj^ .COME/ PalATINj RhZNL £.>:'jJoina ^ lectoraL X>ilx jB>^vi^.LrLcc etc. J^ ahiLriirtii^ oT-cUnu Pcrifceliilii aiu-^ccc (i^ic£ii ati, ■ Charles I 85 GROUP XL TRIAL AND EXECUTION' OK CHARLES I. I. Extracts from Whitelocke, 164S- 9 A. D. . . . This morning Sir Tlionias Wid- drington and I being togetlier, Mr. Smith, who was clerk to the committee for preparing the charge against the king, came to us with a message from the committee, that they required us to come to them this day, they having some matters of importance wherein they desired our advice and assistance ; and that we must not fail them. I knew what the business was, and I told sir Thomas Widdrington that I was resolved not to meddle in that busi- ness about the trial of the king ; it being contrary to my judgment, as I had declared myself in the house. Sir Thomas Widdrington said he was of the same judgment, and would have no hand in that business, but he knew not whither to go to be out of the way, and that the committee might not know whither to send to him. I replied, that my coach was ready, and I was this morning going out of town purposely to avoid this business, and if he pleased to go with me we might be quiet at my house in the country. . . . The council of war ordered, that nothing be done upon the knee to the king, and that all ceremonies of state to him be left off, and his attendance to be with fewer and at less charge. . . . The committee for drawing up a charge against the king, and to con- sider of the manner of his trial, re- ported an ordinance for attainting the king of high treason. . . . The charge was to this effect : That Charles Stuart had acted con- trary to his trust, in departing from the parliament, setting up his standard, making a war against them, and there- by been the occasion of much blood- shed ami misery to the people whom he was set over for good ; that he gave commissions to Irish rebels, and since was the occasion of a second war, and had done contrary to the liberties of the subject, and tending to the destruc- tion of the fundamental laws and liber- ties of this kingdom. . . . This vote was passed as a foundation for these proceedings : That the lords and commons as- sembled in parliament, do declare and adjudge, that by the fundamental laws of this realm, it is treason in the king of England for the time to come, to levy war against the parliament and kingdom of England. . . . The ordinance for trial of the king was carried up to the lords, of whom sixteen then sat : they stuck much upon the declaratory vote, T'/iai it was treaso7i iti the king to levy Tvai- against the parliament. . . . The commons taking notice that the lords had rejected their ordinance for trial of the king, and had adjourned their house, they sent some of their members to examine the lords' journal book, and they re- ported to the commons three votes passed by the lords : 1. To send answer by messengers of their own. 2. That their lordships did not concur to the declaration. 3. That thev had rejected the ordinance for trial of the king. Hereupon the commons voted, That all their members and others ap- pointed to act in any ordinance wherein the lords are joined with them, shall be em- powered and enjoined to sit, act, and execute in the said several committees of themselves, notwithstanding the house of peers join not with them. Order that the ordinance f >r trial of the king, and the declaration from which the lords dissented, and which are intended for both houses, shall now be by the commons only. . . . 86 Charles I. The commissioners for trial of the king met, and chose sergeant Bradshaw for their president, Mr. Steel to be attorney general, Mr. Coke solicitor- general, and they \vitli Dr. Dorislaus and Mr. Aske to draw up and manage the charge against the king. . . . The high court of justice sat in the place in Westminster-hall made for them, the president had the sword and mace carried before him, and twenty gentlemen attended as his guard. . . . After an Oycs, and silence made, the act of the commons of England for sitting of the court was read, and the court was called, sixty of the mem- bers appeared. The king was brought from St. James's to Whitehall, and from thence by water, guarded with musketeers in boats. ... He was charged in the name of Charles Stuart king of England^ as guilty of all the blood that had been shed at Kenton, Brentford, Newbury and other places . . . and other par- ticulars very large. The king smiled at the reading of his charge, and after it was read, de- manded of the president by what law- ful authority he was brought hither, and being answered, In the name of the commons of England^ He replied he saw no lords there which should make a parliament, in- cluding the king; and urged, that the kingdom of England was hereditary and not successive, and that he should betray his trust if he acknowledged or made answer to them, for that he was not convinced that they were a lawful authority. . . . (2nd hearing.) . . . The clerk of the court read this aloud : Charles Stuart, king of England, you have been accused on the behalf of the peo- ple of England of high treason and other crimes; the court have determined that you ought to answer the same. King. I will answer the same, so soon as I know by what authority you do this. President. If this be all that you would sav, then, gentlemen, you that brought the prisoner hither, take charge of him b.ick again. King. I do require that I may give in my reasons why I do not answer, and give me time for that. President. It is not for prisoners to require. King. Prisoners! sir, I am not an ordi- nary prisoner. President. The court hath considered of their jurisdiction; and they have already affirmed their jurisdiction; if you will not answer, we shall give order to record your default. King. You never heard mv reasons yet. President. Sir, your reasons are not to be heard ag;iinst the highest jurisdiction. King. Shew me what jurisdiction, where reason is not to be heard. President. Sir, we show it you here, the commons of England ; and the next time you are brought, you will know more of the pleasure of the court, and, it may be, their final determination. King. Show me wherever the house of commons were a court of judicature of that kind. President. Sergeant, take away the pris- oner. King. Well, sir, remember that the king is not suffered to give in his reasons for the liberty and freedom of all his subjects. President. Sir, you are not to have liberty, to use this language ; how great a friend you have been to the laws and liberties of the people, let all England and the world judge. King. Sir, under favour, it was the lib- erty, freedom and laws of the subject that ever I took to defend myself with arms; I never took up arms against the people, but for the laws. President. The command of the court must be obeyed, no answer will be given to the charge. King. Well, sir. . . . [3rd hearing ] President. Sir, this is the third time that you have publicly disavowed this court, and put an affront upon it; but how far you have preserved the liberties of the people, your actions have spoke it; but truly, sir, men's intentions ought to be known by their actions; 30U have written your meaning in bloody characters through- out the kingdom. But, sir, you understand the pleasure of the court. Clerk, record the Charles I. 87 default. And, gentlemen, you that took the charge of the prisoner, take him back again. King. I will say this one word more to jou, if it were my own particular, I would not say any more to interrupt you. President. Sir, you have heard the pleas- ure of the court, and you are (notwithstand- ing you will not understand it) to find that you are before a court of justice. . . . Jan. 27, 164S-9. The high court of justice sat in Westminster Hall, the president in his scarlet robe, and many of the commis- sioners in their best habit. After the calling of the court, the king came in, in his wonted posture, with his hat on ; as he passed by in the hall, a cry was vaaOte., Justice, Justice ! Exccjition., exec7itionl This was by some soldiers and others of the rabble. After this the clerk was coinmanded to read the sentence, which recited the charge, and the several crimes of which he had been found guilty : For all which treasons and crimes, the court did adjudge, that he the said Charles Stuart, as a tyraiit, traitor, murderer, and public enemy, shall be put to death by the severing of his head from his body. The king then desired to be heard, but it would not be permitted, being after sentence ; and as he returned through the hall, there was another cry for Justice and Execution. Here we may take notice of the abject baseness of some vulgar spirits, who, seeing their king in that condition, endeavoured, in their small capacity, further to promote his misery, that they might a little curry favour with the present powers, and pick thanks of their then superiors. . . . A prince is not exempt from the venom of these mad dogs. . . . I was much troubled at the passing of sentence of death against the king, and heartily prayed that it might not be executed. . . . The king's children came from Sion- house to visit him at St. James's ; he took the princess in his arms, and kissed her, and gave her two seals with diamonds, and prayed for the blessing of God upon her and the rest of his children ; and there was great weeping. 2. Extracts from Warwick, Memoirs of the Reign of Charles I. Second Edition. Lond., 1702, p. 336 ff. By this traiterous and tumulttious body (the Commons) the King is brought to his tryall and removed from Windsor to St. James's and from thence soon brought to Westminster Hall : where he finds a pretended High Court of Justice, consisting of a President, one Bradshaw (heretofore a very meanly qualified lawyer, but a bold and seditious person) and of Cromwell and most of his cheife officers, and some of the King's own faithless servants, as Sir Henry Mildmay, the Lord Mounson, Sir John Danvers, and Cornelius Hol- land (one that had been Clerk of his kitchen, and was then of the Green- Cloth) the rest high-flown Parliament- men. These to make their proceedings the more solemn, made their Serjeant at Armes in Westminster Hall, the old Exchange, etc., to summon \\\ any person, that would come and accuse the King : and then they break his great Seal, and make one of their own, impressing upon it the Cross for Eng- land and the Harp for Ireland on the one side, and the House of Commons, as the true sovereigns of this nation on the other : and these words about it : TJie Jirst yea re of JFreedome, etc., 1648. Before this sort of vile men this good prince is brought : and injustice must necessarily sit on the bench, when justice is dragged to the barr. The insolent President bids the King hearken to his charge, and a babbling and brazen- S8 Charles I. faced SoUicitor, one Cook, accuseth him in the name of the Commons of Eng- hmd, and of all tiie people thereof (which God knows was not one of a thousand) of treason : charging him that bv a tvrannicall power he iiad endeavoured to overthrow the rights and liberties of this people, and to defend himselfe in his traiterous practice, he had maliciously levied a warre. . . . The King smiled at the foule appella- tions of Tyrant, Traitor, etc. ... as their Sovereign and King, he denied any authoritv to be over him. . . . But after all, these nefaricnis men, who thirsted after the King's blood, would now brutishlv suck it : so then give sentence upon him to sever his head from his body, wdiich sentence passed on Saturday, January, 164S ; and he is carried back by his Guard unto St. James's. In the passage to his tryall, he is mett and reviled by some, and tobacco blown in his mouth, and his face spitt upon by others. One honest soldier said but "God bless you, Sir," and his Captain caned him ; the King told the Captain the punishment ex- ceeded the offence. About the barr a numerous rabble cry out for justice against him, and in the Court he is saucily treated by all the Otficers. The King's deportment was very majestick and steady ; and tho' his tongue usually hesitated, yet it was very free at this time, for he was never dis- composed in mind. And yet as he con- fest himself to the Bishop of London, that attended him, one action shockt him very much : for whilst he was lean- ing in the Court upon his staff, which had an head of gold, the head broke off on a sudden ; he took it up, but sccmeil unconcerned; yet told the Bishop, It really made a great impression upon him, and to this hour (sayes he) I know not possiblv how it should come. T' was an accident, 1 confess, I myselfe have often thought on, and cannot imagine how it came about : unless Hugh Peters (who was truly and really his Gaoler, for at St. James nobody went to him, but by Peters' s leave) had artificially tampered upon his staff ; but such con- jectures are of no use. . . . He required Mr. Herbert, (a Gentleman who was appointed to attend him, and who had bin very civill to him and whom he i"ecom mended like- wise to the present King) to call him at four of the clock in the morning ; and Mr. Herbert slept little himselfe, lying by him on a pallet-bed; but obsen-ed through the whole night, that the King slept very soundly, and at his hour awak'd himself, and drew his curtain. He soon got up, was about an hour at his own private devotions, and then called to be'drest; and Mr. Herbert, who was wont to comb his head, combed it that morning with less care than usually : Prethee (says he) tho' it be not long to stand on my shoulders, take the same paines with it, you were wont to do : "I am to be a Bridegroom to-day and must be trimm." Extract from Herbert's Memoirs. (London, 1S15, p. 1S3. ) The King commanded Mr. Herbert to lie by his Bedside upon a Pallat, where he took small rest, that being the last Night his Gracious Sovereign and Master enjoy' d ; but nevertheless the King for Four Hours or thereabouts, slept soundly, and awaking about Two Hours afore day, he opened his curtain to call Mr. Herbert ; there being a great Cake of Wax set in a Silver Bason, that then as at all other times, burned all night; so that he perceiv'd him some- wliat disturb'd in sleep, but calling him, bad him rise; For, (said his Majcstx ) I will get up, having a great Work to do this Day; . . . He then appointed what Cloaths lie would wear; ''Let me have Charles I 89 a Shirt 011 more than ordinary," said the King, ''by reason the season is so sharp as probably may make me shake, which some Observers will imagine proceeds from fear. I wonld have no such Imputation. I fear not Death. Death is not terrible to me. I bless my soul I am prepared." . . . Warwick's Memoirs, Continued. When he was called, he marcht to the scaffold; and a Gentleman of mv acquaintance, that had so placed him- self in Wallingfordhouse, that he could easily discern all that was done upon the scaffold, protested to me, he saw him come out of the Banquetting-house on the scaffold with the same unconcern- ednes and motion, that he usually had when he entered into it on a Masque- night. And another Gentleman, whom I'le name, Dr. Farrar, a Physician (a man of a pious heart, but phancifull brain : for this was he that would have had the King and Parliament have decided their business by lot) had gained such a place upon the stage, that he assured me, that as he had observed him before very majestick and steddy ; so when he had laid down his neck upon Ihe block, he standing at some dis- tance from him in a right line, he per- ceived his eye as quick and lively as ever he had seen it. . . . 3. Extract from Whitelocke. Divers companies of foot and horse were on every side of the scaffold, and great multitudes of people came to be spectators : the king looked earnestly on the block, asked if there were no place higher, and, directing his speech to the gentlemen upon the scaffold, he spake to this effect : [at great length.] Then turning to the officers he said. Sirs, excuse me for this same; I have a gooti ciu-e, and I have a gracious God: I will s V 110 more. Then turning to colonel Hacker, he said. Take care that they do not put me to pain, and, sir, this, and it please \ou. Then a gentlemen coming near the axe, the king said. Take heed of the axe, pray take heed of the axe. Then he said to the executioner, I shall sav but very short prayers, and then thrust out my hands. Two men in disguise and vizors stood upon the scaffold for executioners. Then the king called to Dr. Juxon for his night-cap, and having put it on, he said to the executioner, " Does my hair trouble you .^ " He desired it might all be put under the cap, which the king did accordingly, by the help of the executioner and the bishop. Then the king turning to Dr. Juxon said, I have a good cause and a gracious God on my side Dr. Juxon. There is but one stage more, this stage is turbulent and troublesome, it is a short one, but you may consider it will soon carry you a very great way, it will carry you from earth to heaven, and there you shall find a great deal of cordial joy and comfort. King. I go from a corruptible to an in- corruptible crown, where no disturbance can be. Dr. Juxon. You are exchanged from a temporal to an eternal crown, a good ex- change. Then the king took off his cloak and his george, whicli he gave to Dr. Juxon, saying, Remember. Some other small ceremonies were passed, after which the king stooping down laid his neck upon the block, and after a very little pause, stretching forth his hands, the executioner at one blow severed his head from his body. The king died with true magnanim- ity and Christian patience ; his body was put in a colhn, covered with black velvet, and removed to his lodging chamber in Whitehall. At this scene 90 Charles 1 were many sighs and weeping eyes, and divers strove to dip their handker- chiefs in his blood, as in the blood of a martyr. Extract from John iSIilton. (Qiioted in Harris, Charles I., p. -4S4.) If you say that Charles died as he lived, I agree with you : if you saj- that he died piously, holily, and at ease, you may remember that his grand- mother Mary, an infamous woman, died on a scaffold with as much out- ward appearance of piety, sanctity, and constancy as he did. And lest you should ascribe too much to that pres- ence of mind, which some common malefactors have so 'great a measure of at their death, many times despair, and a hardened heart putting on, as it were, a vizor of courage, and stupidity a shew of quiet and tranquillity of mind : sometimes the worst of men desire to appear good, undaunted, innocent, and now and then religious, not only in their life but at their death ; and in suf- fering death for their villanies are wont to act the last part of their hypocrisy and cheats with all the show imagin- able ; and like bad poets, or stage- players, are very ambitious of being clapped at the end of the play. 4. Letter from Joseph Kent, at Venice, to another Englishman abroad. (In Ellis, Original Letters. London, 1827. Second Series, Vol. III. p. 339-) Noble Sir : I humbly beg your par- don for my last weeks silence, for I vow to God I was -so strangely sur- prised with grief, that I could not pre- vaile with my troubled minde for half an hours repose, to give you some re- lation of the sad and unexcmplary murther of our Soveraign, whose soul is at rest. The Antwerp Post came this morn- ing, but without any Letters from our scandalous Island. I will impart with you what I have learnt from thence and Holland, concerning it. . . . Gregory the ordinary hangman of London was commanded to assist to the king's death, which he refused, but to invite him to it he was proffered two hundred pounds, which he would not hear of ; then they threatened to burn him, and at last imprisoned him, because he would not consent to so great a wickedness ; but a Judas will never be wanting, a Collonel formerly a brazier (to the great dishonour of the nol)le military art) with his servant a minister, both masked were those who cut the thread of His Majestic' s life, and, in it, his loyal subjects hap- piness. A rogue of a minister, after his head was severed from his sacred body, elevated it publicly to the people ; and which is more inhuman, its written that the little Duke of Gloucester was placed against the scaffold to see his father sacrificed. . . . My humble duty and respects to noble Sir R. Wyllis, and all the other gentlemen of the na- tion, to whom I know you will impart this, although most horrid news. . . . Mr. Bayly very affectionately salutes Sir Richard and your noble self, to whom I will ever continue. Noble Sir, Your most affectionate and most humble servant, Jos. Kent. Venice the i ith Marche, Thursday. ^. Letter of lames Howell to Sir WHliam Hoswell. (In Howell's Fa- miliar Letters, London 1S92, Vol. 11. P- 55-) Sir, That black Tragedy which was latelv acted here, as it hath filled most hearts amonsf us with consternation and Charles I. 91 horror, so I believe it hath been no less resented abroad. For my own partic- ular, the more I rvnninate upon it, the more it astonisheth my imap^ination, and shaketh all the cells of my Brain ; so that sometimes I struggle with my Faith, and have much ado to lielieve it yet. I shall give over wond'ring at anything hereafter, nothing shall seem strange unto me ; only I will attend with patience how England will thrive, now that she is let blood in the Basil- ical Vein, and cur'd, as they say, of the King' s- Evil. ... Vour most hujnble servitor Fleet, 20 March, 164S. J. H. 6. Extracts from "The Confession of the Hangman concerning His be- heading his late Majesty the King of Great Brittain (upon his Death bed) who was buried on Thursday last, in white Chappel Churchyard, with the manner thereof." (In Ellis, ib. p. 34I-) Upon Wednesday last (being the 20th of this instant June, 1649,) Rich- ard Brandon, the late Executioner and Hang-man, who beheaded his late ^Majesty, King of Great Brittain, de- parted this life ; but during the time of his sicknesse, his conscience was much troubled, and exceedingly perplexed in mind, yet little shew of repentance for remission of his sins and by-past trans- gressions, which had so much power and influence upon him, that he seemed to live in them, and thev in him. And on Sunday last, a young man of his acquaintance going in to visit him, fell into discourse, asked him how he did, and whether he was not troubled in conscience for cutting off the king's head. He replyed, yes ! by reason that (upon the time of his tryall, and at the denouncing of Sentence against him) he had taken a vow and protesta- tion, wishing God to perish him body and soul, if ever he appeared on the Scaffold to do the act or lift up his hand against him. He likewise confessed that he had thirty pounds for his pains, all paid him in half-crowns within an hour after the blow was given ; and that he had an Orange stuck full of cloves, and a handkircher out of the king's pocket, so soon as he was carryed off from the Scaffold, for which Orange he was proffer' d twenty shillings by a gentle- man in White-hall, but refused the same ; and afterwards sold it for ten shillings in Rosemarv Lane. About six of the clock at night, he returned home to his wife living in Rosemary lane, and gave her the money, saying, that it was the deer- est money that ever he earned in his life, for it would cost him his life. Which prophetical words wei-e soon made manifest, for it appeared, that ever since he hath been in a most sad condition, and upon the Almighties first scourging of him with the rod of sicknesse, and the friendly admonition of divers friends for the calling of him to repentance, yet he persisted on in his vicious vices, and would not heark- en thereunto, but lay raging and swear- ing, and still pointing |;^ at one tiling or another, which he conceived to ap- pear visible before him. About three days before he (\\' (\. he lay speechlesse, uttering manv a sigh and heavy groan, and so in a most des- perate manner departed from his bed of sorrow. For the buriall whereof great store of wines were sent in by the Sheriff of the City of London, and a great multitude of people stood wayting to see his corpes carryed to the church- yard, some crying out, "■ Hang him Rogue," " Bury him in the Dunghill ; " otliers pressing upon him, saying, they would quarter him f(jr executing of 92 The Protectorate the king : insomuch, that tlie church- wardens and Masters of the Parish were fain to come for the suppressing of them, and (with great difficuUy) he was at last carryed to White Chappell Church-vard, having (as it is said) a bunch of Rosemary at each end of the coffin on the top thereof, with a rope tyed across from on end to the other. And a merry conceited Cock living at the sign of the Crown, having a black Fan (worth the value of thirty shillings) took a resolution to rent the saine in p'eccs, and to every feather tieil a piece of pack-thread dy'd in black ink, and gave them to divers per- sons, who (in derision) for a while, wore them in their hats. Thus I have given thee an exact ac- count and perfect Relation of the Life and Death of Richard Brandon, to the end that the World may be convinc'd of those calumnious speeches and erro- neous suggestions which are dayly spit from the mouth of Envy against divers persons of great worth and eminency, bv casting an odium upon them for the executing of the king ; it being now made manifest, that the aforesaid exe- cutioner was the only man who gave the fatall blow, and his man that wavted upon him, was a ragman (of the name of Ralph Jones) living in Rosemary Lane. GROUP XIL CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS OF OLIVER CROMWELL. I. Extract from Sir Ph. Warwick's Memoirs. (Edition of 1702, p. 247.) I have no mind to give an ill char- acter of Cromwell ; for in his conversa- tion towards me he was ever friendly ; tho' at the latter end of the day finding me ever incorrigible, and having some inducements to suspect me a tamperer, he was sufficiently rigi<^1- The first time that ever I took notice of him was in the very beginning of the Parliament held in November 1640, when I vainly thought myselfe a courtly young Gentle- man : (for we Courtiers valued our- selves much upon our good cloaths). I came one morning into the House well clad, and perceived a Gentleman speaking (whom I knew not) very ordinarily apparelled: for it was a pla'n cloth-sute, which seemed to have bin made by an ill country-taylor ; his linen was plain and not very ck'an ; and I remember a speck or two of blood on his little band, which was not much larger than his collar; his hatt was without a hatt-band, his stature was of a good size, his sword stuck close to his side, his countenance swoln and reddish, his voice sharp and un- tunable, and his eloquence full of fer- vor ; for the subject matter would not bear much of reason ; it being in behalf of a servant of Mr. Prynn's, who had disperst libells against the Queen for her dancing and such like innocent and courtly sports ; and he aggravated the imprisonment of this man by the Council-Table unto that height, that one would have believed the very Government it selfe had been in great danger by it. I sincerely pro- fesse it lessened much mv reverence unto that great coimcill ; for he was very much hearkened unto. And yet I liv'd to see this very gentlemen, whom out of no ill-will to him I thus describe, by multiplied good successes and by real (Init usurpt) power: (having had i-iiijiiiij^L^a gn ^ y, < y. > ^ The Protectorate 93 a better taylor, and more converse among good :ompany) in mine owne eye, when for six weeks together I was a prisoner in his Serjeant's hands, and dayly waited at Whitehall, appeare of a great and majestick deportment and comely presence. Of him therefore I will say no more, but that verily I believe he was extraoi'dinarily designed for those extraordinary things, which one while most wickedly and facinor- ously he acted, and at another as suc- cessfully and greatly performed. 2. Extracts from Ludlow Memoirs, (Oxford, 1894). 164S. May 21. In the mean time Lieutenant-General Cromwel not forgetting himself, pro- cured a meeting of divers leading men amongst the Presbyterians and Inde- pendents, both members of Parliament and ministei's, at a dinner in Westmin- ster, under pretence of ende ivoring a reconciliation between the two parties. . . . Another conference he contrived to be held in King Street between those called the grandt-es of the house and armv, and the Commonwealths-men. . . . The Commonwealths-men de- claretl that monarchy was neithei good in itsself, nor for us. . . . Notwithstand- ing what was said, Lieutenant-General Cromwell, not for want of conviction, but in hopes to make a better bargain with another party, professed himself unresolved, and having learned what he could of the principles and inclinations of those present at the conference, took up a cushion and flung it at my head, and then ran down the stairs ; but I overtook him with another, which made him hasten down faster than he desired. . . . Lieutenant-General Cromwell, who had made it his usual practice to grat- ify enemies even with the oppression of those who were by principle his friends, began again to court the Com- monwealth party, inviting some of them to confer with him at his cham- ber : with which acquainting me the next time he came to the House of Commons, I took the freedom to tell him, that he knew how to cajole and give them good words when he had oc- casion to make use of them ; whereat breaking out into a rage, he said they were a proud sort of people and only considerable in their own conceits. I told him it w'as no new thing to hear truth calumniated, and that tho the Commonwealths- men were fallen under his displeasure, I would take the liberty to say that they had always been and ever would be considerable where there was not a total defection from honesty, generosity, and all true vertue, which I hoped was not yet our case. 16^1. . . . General Cromwel had long been suspected by wise and good men ; but he had taken such care to form and mould the army to his humor and in- terests, that he had filled all places either with his own creatures, or with such as hoped to share with him in the sovereignty, and removed those who foreseeing his design, had either the courage or honesty to oppose him in it. His pernicious intentions did not dis- cover themselves openly until after the battel at Worcester, which in one of his letters to the Parliament he called the Crowning Victory. At the same time when he dismissed the militia, who had most readily offered themselves to serve the Commonwealth against the Scots, he did it with anger and contempt, which was all the acknowledgment they could obtain from him for their service and affection to the publick cause. In a word, so much was he elevated with that success, that Mr. Hugh Peters, as he since told me, took 94 The Protectorate so much notice of it, as to sav in confi- dence to a friend upon the road in his return from Worcester, that Cromwel would make himself king. He now began to despise divers members of the House whom he had formerly courted, and grew most familiar with those whom he used to show most aversion to. 1653, April 20. The Parliament now perceiving to what kind of excesses the madness of the army was like to carry them, re- solved to leave as a legacy to the people the Government of a Commonwealth by their representatives, when assem- bled in Parliament, and in the intervals thereof by a Council of State, chosen by them, and to continue till the meet- ing of the next succeeding Parliament, to whom they were to give an account of their conduct and management. To this end thev resolved, without any further delay, to pass the Act for their own dissolution ; of which Cromwel having notice, makes haste to the House, where he sat down and heard the debate for some time. Then call- ing to Major-General Harrison, who was on the other side of the House, to come to him, he told him, that he judged the Parliament ripe for a dis- solution, and this to be the time of doing it. The Major-General answered, as he since told me : ' Sir, the work is very great and dangerous, therefore I de- sire you seriously to consider of it be- fore you engage in it.' ' You say well,' replied the General, and thereupon sat still for about a quarter of an hour; and then the question for passing the Bill being to l)c put, he said again to Major-(jcncral Harrison, 'This is the time I must do it ; ' and suddenly stand- ing up, made a speech, wherein he loaded the Parliament witli the vilest reproaches, charging them not to have a heart to do anything for the publick good, to have espoused the corrupt in- terest of Presbytery and the lawyers, who were the supporters of tyranny and oppression, accusing them of an intention to perpetuate themselves in power, had they not been forced to the passing of this Act, which he affirmed they designed never to observe, and thereupon told them, that the Lord had done with them, and had chosen other instruments for the carrying on his work that were more worthy. This he spoke with so much passion and dis^ composure of mind as if he had been distracted. Sir Peter Wentworth stood up to answer him, and said, that this was the first time that ever he had heard such unbecoming language given to the Parliament, and that it was the more horrid in that it came from their ser- vant, and their servant whom they had so highly trusted and obliged : but as he was going on the General stept into the midst of the house, where, con- tinuing his distracted language, he said, ' Come, come, I will put an end to vour prating;' then walking up and down the House like a madman, and kicking the ground with his feet, he cried out, ' You are no Parliament, I say you are no Parliament ; I will put an end to your sitting ; call them in, call them in : ' whereupon the sergeant attending the Parliament opened the doors, and Lieutenant- Colonel Worsley with two files of musqueteers entred the House; which Sir Henry Vane observing from his place, said aloud, ' This is not honest, yea it is against mor;ilitv and common honesty.' Then Cromwel fell a railing at him, crying out with a loud voice, ' O Sir Henry Vane, Sir Henry Vane, the Lord de- liver me from Sir Henry Vane.' Then looking upon one of the members he said, ' There sits a drunkard ; ' and giving much reviling language to others, The Protectorate 95 he commanded the mace to be taken away, saying, ' What shall we do witli this bauble? here, take it away.' Hav- ing brought all into this disorder Major-General Harrison went to the Speaker as he sat in the chair, and told him, that seeing things were reduced to this pass, it would not be convenient for hiin to remain there. The Speaker answered that he would not come down unless he were forced. ' Sir,' said Harrison, ' I will lend vou my hand ; ' and thereupon putting his hand within his, the Speaker came down. Then Cromwel applied himself to the mem- bers of the House, who were in number between eighty and a hundred, and said to them, ' It's you that have forced me to this, for I have sought the Lord night and day, that he would rather slay me than put me upon the doing of this work.' . . . Cromwel having acted this treacherous and impious part, or- dered the guard to see the House cleared of all the members, and then seized upon the records that were there, and at Mr. Scobell's house. After which he went to the clerk, and snatching the act of Dissolution, which was ready to pass, out of his hand, he put it under his cloak, and having commanded the doors to be locked up, went away to Whitehall. 1653. , . . After a few days a coun- cil of field-oflicers was summoned, where Major-General Lambert having rehearsed the several steps and degrees bv which things had l)een brought to the present state wherein they were, and pressed the necessity incumbent upon the army to provide something in the room of what was lately taken away, presented to them a paper in- tituled, 'An Instrument of Govern- ment,' which he I'ead in his place. Some of the officers being convinced that the contents of this Instrument tended to the sacrificing all our labours to the lust and ambition of a single person, began to declare their unwil- lingness to concur in it. . . . This In- strument appointed the legislative power to be in the Representatives of the peo- ple and the Protector ; that a Parlia- ment should be chosen every three years, which should sit five months, if they thought fit, without any interrup- tion : that their first meeting should be on the thirteenth of September next ensuing : that the members of whom the Parliament was to consist, should be chosen by the people : that wliatso- ever they would have enacted, should be presented to the Protector for his consent. ... It provided also that all writs should issue out in the Protector's name : that most of the magistrates should be appointed, and all honours conferred by him : that he should have the power of the militia by sea and land : that in the intervals of Parlia- ment the nation should be governed by the Protector and his council. . . . Things being thus prepared, the Mayor and Aldermen of London were required to attend at Whitehall in their scarlet gowns. . . . After the General had heard the Instrument of Govern- ment read, and taken the oath as directed in the close of the said Instru- ment, Major-General Lambert kneeling presented him with a sword in the scabbard, representing the civil sword ; which Cromwel accepting, put off his own, intimating thereby that he would no longer rule by the military sword, tho' like a false hypocrite he designed nothine more. 3. vSpeech of Cromwell on opening the Parliament of 1654. (In White- locke Memorials. Vol. IV. p. 133.) After the sermon . . . his highness [Cromwell] went in the same equipage to the painted chamber, where he was 96 The Protectorate seated in a chair of state set upon steps, and the members upon benches round about sat all bare; all being silent, his highness put off his hat, and made a large and subtle speech to them : He told them the danger of the level- ling principles, and of the fifth-mon- archy opinions, and of the form of godliness, and the great judgment that hath been upon this nation of ten years' civil war. . . . The common enemy in the mean- time sleeps not, swarms of Jesuits come over, and have their consistories abroad to rule all the affairs of Eng- land and the dependancies thereof. . . . In such an heap of confusion was this poor nation ; and that it might not sink into a confusion from these prem- ises a remedy must be applied. A remedy hath been applied, this gov- ernment. A thing that ... is calcu- lated for the interest of the people, for their interest alone, and for their good, without respect had to any other inter- -•jst. . . . It hath put a stop to that heady way, for every man that will to make him- self a preacher, having endeavored to settle a way for approbation of men of piety and fitness for the work. . . . It hath taken care to expunge men unfit for that work, who have been the common scorn and reproach to that administration. . . . One thing more : it hath been in- strumental to call a free parliament; blessed be God, we see here this day a free parliament ; and that it may con- tinue so, I hope, is in the heart of every good man of England : for my own part, as I desired it above my life, so to keep it free I shall value it above my life. . . . These things [treaties, etc.] which I have before mentioned, are but en- trances and doors of hope ; you are brought to the edge of Canaan, (into which manv that have gone before coidd not enter,) but if the blessing and presence of God go along with you in management of your affairs ; I make no question but he will enable you to lav the topstone of this work. . . . The great end of calling this parlia- ment is, that the work of God may go on, that the ship of this commonwealth may be brought into a safe har- bour. . . . I shall conclude with my persuasion to vou, to have a sweet, gracious, and holy understanding one of another, and put you in mind of the covmsel you heard this day in order thereunto. And I desire you to believe that I speak not to you as one that w^ould be a lord over you, but as one that is resolved to be a fellow-servant with you to the interest of this great affair. 2. Proceedings of the Parliament of 1654. (From Journal of Guibon God- dard. Printed with Burton's Diary. London, 1S2S.) Tuesday, Sept. 5, 1654. The House met, and first called over all their members, and then the de- faulters, of which there were not above three score, of such as were re- turned. . . . . . . Occasion was taken by some members to tell us that, until that time they had not so much as heard the name of my Lord Protector within those walls, and intimating, as if there had been some reflections upon the Government. . . . They therefore, (from Court especially, and from the soldiery and lawyers,) pressed hard, that the Government, or Instrument of Government, might be speedily taken into consideration, and some return made to my Lord Protector, of thank- fulness for his late speech. The Protectorate 97 Sept, 6. The House being met, and the order for taking the Government in- to consideration being first read, it was moved by some, that there was some- thing that lay in the way which might hinder the freedom of that debate, namely, an Ordinance, so called, made by the Lord Protector and his council, whereby it was made High Treason for any man to speak against the present Government. Which occasioned many discourses concerning the freedom of speech in Parliament, it being alleged, that that was the first-born privilege of a parlia- ment, and the very heart-strings of it. In fine it was so allowed on all sides, and that no law or power from without could impeach any member, for any syllable spoken within those walls. . . . Sept. 7. The debate of the main question was taken up [whether the Government by a single person and a Parliament should be approved]. . . . Much debate was about the word "approving" in the question, as if it were not Parliamentary, nor for the honour of the House, to approve of anything which takes not its foundation and rise from themselves. . . . Instead of " a single person and a Parliament," they would have "the Parliament" preferred, and the words stand, "that the Government should be in the Par- liament of the people of England etc. and a single person, qualified with such instructions as the Parliament should think fit." Which last words were exceedingly pressed to be added ; and plainly the generality of voices and sense of the House seemed to incline that way. Sept. 9. It now began to be visible, that the interest of the single person did plainly lose ground ; for not onlv the word "approved" was disrelished on all hands, but they began to break the question, and to distinguish the word "Government" into the legislative power and the executive power. The first was generally thought, with all the reason in the world, to be the right of the Parliament alone, without commu- nicating the least part of it to any single person in the world. . . . Sunday, Sept. 10. The parsons generally prayed for the Parliament to strengthen their hands and enlarge their hearts ; to send them that had wisdom, zeal; and them that had zeal, wisdom ; bi t not much concerning the single person, as was observed. Sept. 1 1. The House . . . was resolved again into a Grand Committee to debate the former question ; wherein the House did proceed with a great deal of inge- nuity, modesty, and candour ; and this cannot be denied, but [is] fit to be remem- bered to all ages. It was agreed on all hands . . . that in the considera- tion of this question, two things were to be considered of, vcrinn, ct bonitin. The ve7-u>u^ that is the truth of it was, that the legislative power was in the House of Commons, in Parliament alone, and so was acknowledged and settled. But for the bo7iJiin of it, whether it were now convenient or ex- pedient, per /lie ct nunc. That was very advisable. The arguments on both sides, were rationally and pruden- tially urged. ... Sept. 1 2th . . . going by water to Westminster, I was told that the Par- liament doors were locked up and guarded with soldiers, and the barges were to attend the Protector to the Painted chamber. As I went, I saw- two barges at the Privy Stairs. Being come to the Hall, I was confirmed in what I had heard. Nevertheless, I did 98 The Protectorate purpose not to take things merely upon trust, but would receive an actual re- pulse, to confirm my faith. Accordingly, I attempted up the Par- liament stairs, but there was a guard of soldiers, who told me there was no passage that way ; that the House was locked up, and command given to give no admittance to any. That, if I were a member, I might go to the Painted chamber, where the Protector would presently be. The mace was taken away bv Commis- sary-general Whalley. The Speaker and all the members were walking up and down the Hall, the Court of Re- quests, and the Painted chamber, ex- pecting the Protector's coming; the passages there, being likewise guarded with soldiers. The Protector coming about ten of the clock, attended with his officers, life-guard, and halberds, he took his place upon the scaffold, where it was before, and made a speech of about an hour and a half long, wherein he did not forbear to tell us, that he did expect and hope for better fruit and effect of our last meeting in that place than he had yet found ; that he perceived there was a necessity upon him to magnify, as he called it, his office. He told us a large series of the providences of God and the suffrages of the people, which were so many witnesses, evidences, and seals, of his calling to the government, and which did cause him to put a greater value upon his title so derived, than upon the broken hereditary title of any prince whatsoever. That having re- ceived his office from God and from the people, he was resolved never to part with it, until God and the people should take it from him. That it could not be expected, when he told us before that we were a free Parliament, that he meant it otherwise free than as it should act under that government. That those pitiful for- wardnesses and peevishnesses, which were abroad, he valued no more than the motes in the sun. But that the Parliament should now dispute his office under whose authority we were then met, was a great astonishment to him. That he was unwilling to break privi- leges ; but necessity had no law. He told us, he had ordered the Par- liament doors to be locked up and guarded, and had appointed an officer to take subscriptions to a recognition of his authority; which being done might give us an entrance. Which lieing said, we were dismissed about eleven o'clock. His party, that is, courtiers and offi- cers of the army, and some others, presently subscribed. Before they ad- journed, which was about twelve of the clock, there were about one hun- dred subscriptions ; which being en- tered, they sent for the Speaker, who came, subscribed, entered, and ad- journed until two of the clock. In the meantime, the rest of the members consulted one another's judg- ments. I went to see what it was that we were to subscribe unto. It was written in a long piece of parchment in these words, or to that effect, viz. : — "I do hereby freely promise and engage, that I will be true and faithful to the Lord Protector and the Common- wealth of England, Scotland and Ire- land, and that according to the tenor of the indentures whereby I am returned to serve in this present Parliament, I will not propose, or consent to alter the government as it is settled in a sole person and the Parliament." Our Norfolk members did not pres- ently subscribe, saving only Mr. Frere, who instantly subscribed it. The rest of our members did most of us dine together, purposely to consult wliat The Protectorate 99 was fittest to be done in so great an exigent, in order to the discharge of our trust. And, truly, the subscription was, in effect, no more than what we were restrained unto by our indentures, and the thing would be done without us, and we had fairly contended for it : we had not given the question, but it was forced from us, and we were told that plainly it must be so. For these and several other considerations and reasons, which we thought ought to prevail with men preferring the peace of our countries and the safety of our people immediately concerned in this affair, before passions and humours, we thought fit rather to give way to the present necessity, and to complv with it by submitting than refusing. Accordingly we did subscribe, all ex- cept Mr. Woodhouse, Mr. Hobart, and Mr. Church. And although we con- demn the breach of privilege as much as any, yet we doubt not but to acquit our- selves to God, and to our country, in so doing, rather than to put the nation into another combustion and confusion. After we had subscribed, we went into the House, and after some expres- sions of tenderness and respects to our fellow members without, we adjourned until Thursday morning, the next day, Wednesday, being the Fast. . . . Nov. loth, 1654. ... It was voted : . . . That all bills agreed unto by the Parliament shall be presented to the said single person for his consent. And, in case he shall not give his con- sent thereunto, within twenty days after they shall be presented to him, or give satisfaction to the Parliament within the time limited, that then such bills shall pass into, and become laws, although he shall not give his consent thereunto. Provided such Bills contain nothing in them contrary to such matters wherein the Parliament shall think fit to give a negative to the Lord Protector. . . . The Court-party, against whom the vote was carried, were so much dissatisfied, and, indeed, so impatient that ... it was said by them, that this vote had destroyed the Govern- ment. The very foundation upon which we rest would receive so great a wound by it, as nothing now that we could do, subsequently, could cure it. We had, as much as a vote could do, unmade the Protector. vSo fatal, and so mortal was this wound to the Gov- ernment, in the opinion of some, that one, a person of honour and nobility, did wish he could have redeemed that wound with a pound of the best blood in his body. It was often and soberly pressed by the other side, that they saw no cause for such tragical apprehensions, that the fears seemed panic, and the wound they spake of, invisible. . . . Yet nothing would satisfy the court-partv, but in gi'eat confusion and discontent, they cried out for an adjournment, giv- ing the whole business lost, and presag- ing an ominous and sudden dissolution. But, after some heats were over, the more moderate of either side fell to ex- pedients. Amongst which, some were inconsequent things, and destructive wholly to the former vote. But, in fine ... it was proposed, I. To change the word "give" [Parliament shall think iit to give a negative, etc.] into " declare." 3. Whereas Parliament is named alone in the proviso to declare the negatives, it was desired that the sin- gle person might lie joined with them. . . . Saturday, Nov. 1 1 . It was moved that the former amend- ments be added to the former vote of yesterday. Some, to further the mo- tion, pretended that they themselves had been, the night before, surprised in the question and did not think it had lOO The Protectorate carried such .1 consequence in the man- ner of it. Others talked of fears and imminent dangers. To both which, a member replied, something earnestly, saying, as to the first, he conceived it not Parliamentary, to retract a vote upon a non piitarem ; for such as sate there were all supposed to be wise men, et incipieritis est^ dlccre non piitarem^ and for the other arguments, of fears and jealousies, he conceived they were bugbears and brain-squirts, things not to affright such an assembly into any change in their councils ; which gave such offence and scandal to the court- party, as they questioned the gentle- man for it. Some ado there was to have had him to the bar; but some excused him, and one especially, t.irtly enough, upon that old ground of nemo viortaUum omnihns horis sapit^ which was, a Rowland for an Oliver. Others desired that he might but explain himself. To which it was answered, that that needed not. Tlie gentleman that spoke before, had done it for him. After they had made themselves a little merry with these puns, at length thcv fell into a more serious considera- tion of the point. . . . At length the question was put for the amendment. It was agreed unto, nemime contradicente, so as the proviso then amended ran thus : — Provided that such Bills contain nothing in them contrary to such mat- ters wherein the said single person and the Parliament shall think fit to declare a negative to be in the said single per- son. 4. Extracts from Ludlow. 1655- . . . (Cromwell) next asked me, wherefore I would not engage not to act against the present Government, telling me, that if Nero were in power. it would be my duty to submit. To which I replied, that I was ready to submit, and could truly say, that I knew not of any design against him. ' But,' said I, 'if Providence open a way, and give an opportunity of ap- pearing in behalf of the people, I can- not consent to tie my own hands before- hand, and oblige m} self not to lay hold on it.' ' However,' said he, ' it is not reasonable to suffer one that I distrust to come within my house, till he assure me he will do no mischief.' I told him I was not accustomed to go to any house unless I expected to be welcome ; neither had I come hither but upon a message from him, and that I desired nothing but a little liberty to breathe in the air, to which I conceived I had an equal right with other men. He then fell to inveigh bitterly against Major Wildman, as the author of the petition from the army before- mentioned, reviling him with unhand- som words, and saying he deserved to be hanged ; and that he must secure me also, if I would not oblige myself never to act against him. I told him I had gone as far as I could in that en- gagement which I had given to Lieu- tenant-General Fleetwood ; and if that were not though'i sufficient, I resolved with God's assistance to suffer any ex- tremities that might be imposed upon me. ' Yes,' said he, ' we know your resolution well enough, and we have cause to be as stout as you ; but I pray who spoke of your suffering?' •■ Sir,' said 1, ' if I am not deceived, you men- tioned the securing of my person.' ' Yea,' said he, ' and great reason there is why we should do so ; for I am ashamed to see that engagement which you have given to the Lieutenant- General, which would be more fit for a General who should be taken pris- oner, and that hath yet an army of thirty thousand men in the field, than The Protectorate lOI for one in your condition.' I answeretl that it was as nnich as T could consent to give. . . . 1656. . . . About tlie same time Mr. Peters, who still kept fair with those at Whitehall, made me a visit ; and in our conversation about the public affairs I freely told him my opinion concerning the actions of Cromwel, endeavoring to make him sensible not only of his injustice, but great impru- dence, thus to sacrifice the common cause to his ambition, and by ever\' step he had lately taken to strengthen the common enemy, whereby he would undoubtedly open a way for the I'eturn of the family of the late king, who would not fail to do all that revenge could inspire them with : whereas if he had made use of his power to establish the just liberties of the nation, or could yet be persuaded so to do, he might live more honoured and esteemed, have the pleasure and satisfaction arising from so generous ,an action when he died, and leave his own family, together with the whole body of the people, in a most happy and flourishing condition. He confessed that what I had said was most true, but added, that there was not a man about him who had courage enough to tell him so : that for his part he had observed him immediately after the victory at Worcester to be so ele- vated, that he then began to fear what has since come to pass; and that he told a friend with whom he then quar- tered in his return to London, that he was inclined to believe Cromwel would endeavor to make himself king. V Extracts from Evelyn's Diary. April 9, 1655. I went to see ye greate ship newly built by the usurper Oliver, carrying 96 brasse gims, and 1000 tons burthen. In ye prow was Oliver on horseback, trampling 6 nations under foote, a vScott, Irishman, Dutchman, French- man, Spaniard, and English, as was easily made out by their several habits. A Fame held a laurel over his insulting head; ye word, God xvith us. March 25th, 16^7. . . . The Protector Oliver, now af- ecting kingship, is petition' d to take the title on him by all his new-made sycophant lords, etc. but dares not for feare of the phanatics, not thoroughly purg'd out of his rebell armv. Dec. 35th, 16^7. ... I went to London with my wife, to celebrate Christmas-dav, Mr. Gunning preaching. . . . As he was giving us ye holy sacrament, the chap- ell w\as surrounded with souldiers, and all the communicants and assembly surpriz'd and kept prisoners by them. ... In the afternoone came Col. Whaley, Goffe,'and others from White- hall, to examine us one by one ; some they committed to ye Marshall, some to prison. When I came before them they tooke my name and abode, exam- in'd me why, contrary to an ordinance made that none should anv longer ob- serve ye superstitious time of the Na- tivity (so esteem'd by them), I durst offend, and particularly be at Common Prayers, which they told me was but ye masse in English, and particularly pray for Charles Steuart, for which we had no Scripture. I told them we did not pray for Cha. Steuart, but for all Christian Kings, Princes, and Gov- ernors. They replied, in so doing we praied for the K. of Spaine too, who was their enemie and a papist, with other frivolous and insnaring questions and much threatning ; and finding no colour to detaine mc, they dismissed me with much pitty of my ignorance. I02 The Protectorate These were men of liigh flight and above ordinances, and spake spiteful things of our Lord's Nativity. As we went up to receive the Sacrament the miscreants held their muskets against us as if they would have shot us at the altar, but yet suffering us to finish the office of Communion, as perhaps not having instructions what to do in case they found us in that action. So I got home late the next dav, blessed be God. 6. Extracts from Ludlow. 165S. . . . After the death of Mrs. Cley- pole it was observed that Cromwel grew melancholy, and also distempered with divers infirmities, particularly a malignant humour in his foot ; which hindring him from the exercises of walking or riding abroad, he obliged his physicians to endeavor to disperse it, which they endeavoring to do, drove it upwards to his heart. By this means he became desperately sick ; and as some about him had for a long time deceived others, so they now endeav- oured to impose upon God himself. For Dr. Goodwin, his creature and trencher-chaplain, used this expression in his prayer during the time of his sickness ; ' Lord, we beg not for his recovery, for that Thou hast already granted, and assured us of, but for his speedy recovery.' At this time I was in the county of Essex, and according to a former resolution I had taken, went to London to attend mv father Oldsworth, and to bring him into the country, whither he designed to come with my mother Ludlow. On the ^Monday afternoon I set forward on my journey, the morning proving so tempestuous that the horses were not able to draw against it ; so that I coidd reach no farther than Epping that night. By this means I arrived not at Westminster till Tuesday about noon, when passing bv Whitehall, notice was immediately given to Cromwel, that I was come to town. Whereupon he sent for Lieutenant-General Fleetwood, and ordered him to enquire concerning the reasons of my coming in such haste, and at such a time. The Lieu- tenant-General accordingly desired by a message that I would come to him the next morning, which I did, and understood from him that Cromwel suspected I was come with a design to raise some disturbance in the army, and that he was desirous to know the occa- sion of my journey. I assured him that as it was not in my power to cause any commotion in the army, so neither was it in my thoughts at this time; and that I came to town in order to bring our fainily together into the country, according to a resolution taken a month since, and before I heard of Cromwel' s indisposition. He then told me, that the Protector had been ill, but that it was now hoped he was recover- ing. I said, that I wished him so well, that I was not desirous he should die in the way he was in at present, and assured him, that I should be glad of the prolongation of his life, if he would employ it to the publick good, which ought to be more dear to us than life itself. At Whitehall they were unw^illing to have it known that he was so danger- ously ill . . . certain it is that the Commissioners were not admitted till the Friday following, when the symp- toms of death were apparent upon him, and manv ministers and others assem- bled in a chamber at Whitehall, pray- ing for him, whilst he manifested so little remorse of conscience for his betraying the publick cause, and sacri- ficing it to the idol of his own ambi- tion, that some of his last words were rather becoming a mediator than a The Protectorate 103 sinner, recommending to God the con- dition of the nation that he had so infamously cheated, and expressing a great care of the people whom he had so manifestly despised. But he seemed above all concerned for the reproaches he said men would cast upon his name, in trampling on his ashes when dead. In this temper of mind he departed this life about two in the afternoon ; and the news of his death being brought to those who were met together to pray for him, Mr. Sterry stood up and desired them not to be troubled. For,' said he, ' this is good news ; because if he was of great use to the people of God when he was amongst us, now he will be much more so, being ascended to Heaven to sit at the right hand of Jesus Christ, there to intercede for us and to be mindful of us on all occa- sions.' . . . One of the first acts of the new government was, to order the fu- neral of the late usurper ; and the Council having resolved that it should be very magnificent, the care of it was referred to a committee of them, who sending for Mr. Kinnersly master of the wai"drobe, desired him to find out some precedent by which they might govern themselves in this important affair. After examination of his books and papers, Mr. Kinnersly, who was suspected to be inclined to popery, recommended to them the solemnities used upon the like occasion for Philip the Second, King of Spain, who had been represented to be in purgatory for about two months. In the like manner was the body of this great reformer laid in Somerset-House : the apartment was hung with black, the day-light was excluded, and no other but that of wax tapers to be seen. This scene of pur- gatory continued till the first of Novem- ber, which l)eing the day preceding that commonly called All Souls, he was removed into the great hall of the said house, and represented in effegie, standing on a bed of crimson velvet covered with a gown of the like coloured velvet, a scepter in his hand, and a crown on his head. That part of the hall wherein the bed stood was railed in, and the rails and ground within them covered with crimson velvet. Four or five hundred candles set in flai shining candle- sticks \vere so placed round near the roof of the hall, that the light they gave seemed like the rays of the sun : by all which he was represented to be now in a state of glory. This folly and profusion so far provoked the people, that they threw dirt in the night on his escucheon that was placed over the great gate of Somerset House. I purposely omit the rest of the pageantr}', the great number of persons that attended on the body, the procession to Westminster, the vast expence in mourning, the state and magnificence of the monument erected for him, with many other things that I care not to remember. 104 The Protectorate GROUP XIII. SPECIMENS OF PARLIAMENTARY PROCEEDINGS UNDER THE COMMONWEALTH. Extracts from Goddard's and Bur- ton's Diaries. (London, 1S2S.) Tuesday, Oct. 7, 1656. Resolved, that the consideration of the hiws touching profane swearing, and the defects therein, be referred to the Committee for alehouses and drunk- enness. • . . That it be referred to the . . . Com- mittee [on servants' wages], to take into consideration the habits and fashions of servants and labourers, and to prepare a Bill for the remedying the abuses therein. . . . Thursday, 9th. Ordered, that Sir Thomas Honywood, a member of this House, have leave to go into the country for fourteen days, to bring up his lady and family. Thursday, i6th. Ordered that it be referred to a Com- mittee, to revise the statutes touching wandering, idle, loose and dissolute persons, beggars, rogues and vagabonds. That it be referred to the same Com- mittee, to consider of, and provide a Bill, for redress of the evils by such persons as live at very high rates, and have no visible estate, profession, or calling suitable thereunto. . . . Monday, 20th. , . . Colonel Jephson acquainted the House with a book delivered at the door, in print, entituled "Thunder from the Throne of God, against the Temples of Idols," with an epistle in it directed to his Highness, the Lord Protector, and the Parliament of England ; which epistle was now read. Resolved, that Samuel Chidley be called in, to the bar. And he was, accordingly, called in. And being come to the bar, the book was showed him, who acknowledged he wrote the epistle ; and doth own it, and all that is in it; and owns the book too, and all in it, the printer's errors excepted. Ordered, that this book, entituled "Thunder from the Throne of God, against the Temples of Idols," and the epistle of it, be referred to a committee, viz. : to Lord Commissioner Whitlock, etc. . . . Resolved, that Samuel Chidley be committed to the custody of the Serjeant- at-Arms attending this House. Friday, Nov. 21. Resolved, that no member of the House do remain in the Committee Chambers, during the time of prayers. Nov. 27. The Seijeant brings word, that Ser- jeant Dendy was at the door with a message from his Highness. And, thereupon he was called in. And, hav- ing made two obeisances to the House, when he came into the middle of the House, with his mace in his hand, he declared to Mr. Speaker, that he was commanded by his Highness the Lord Protector, to let tliis House know that his Highness is in the Painted Chamber, and desires to speak with this honour- able House. And thereupon with- drew. Which being done, Mr. Speaker, attended with the whole House, the Clerk with the Bills in his hand, and the Serjeant witli his mace . . . went up to the Painted Chamber; where his 'l!lini!iwiiiiii!iiiiiif The Protectorate 105 Highness, attended with the Lord Presi- dent and the rest of the Council [etc., etc.] were expecting. . . . The Speaker addressed himself to his Highness, and gave an account of the employment of the House during their sitting ; and that many Bills for the public good were upon the anvil. . . . After which the Clerk read the title of the first Bill. . . . Which Bill his Highness caused to be read ; and upon reading thereof, declared to the Clerk his consent to the same, in these words, "We do consent." And, thereupon, the Clerk made an entry thereof on the Bill, in these words, "The Lord Pro- tector doth consent." . . . The titles of the rest of the public Bills, first, and then the private Bills, were read. And to each of them his Highness' s consent thereunto declared, entered, and published as before. . . . His Highness having made a short speech, the Speaker, with the i^est of the members, departed in the like order as they came thither, to the Parlia- ment House. . . . Dec. 5th. . . . Mr. Fowell reported the bill from the committee, with amendments, touching rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars. . . . Second Amendment, "Being wander- ing ten miles from his habitation." Second Amendment excepted against for too great a distance. . . . Major Audley. If you leave it in the power of justices to judge who shall be wanderers, for ought I know I my- self may be whipped, if I be found but ten miles from my own house, unless the justice of the peace will allow my excuse. . . . Sir Richard 0)isloiv and Mr. High- land. If you make new wanderers and vagabonds, other than ever our ancestors knew of, let us know what they are. . . . Bv these tcrmi)iis frcncralibus^ anv man may be adjudged bv the justice to be a vagrant. Colonel Edxvard.s. Tliey ha\e cliain enough, keep them within their com- pass. If they know they have ten miles to rove in, by this means you give them forty miles circumference. Resolved, Not to agree with the com- mittee in ten miles distance. . . . Dr. Clarges. • Give liberty for five miles, that you may suppress the Qiiakers, who greatly increase, and pester and endanger the Common- wealth. Major Audley. Ascertain what this individunni vagitm is, lest it be quidani hotno., any man. I would have the persons ascertained. If they be Quak- ers, I could freely give my consent that they should be whipped. . . . Sir Thomas Wroth. Harpers should be included. Mr. . Pipers should be com- prehended. Alderman Footc. I hope you in- tend not to include the ivaits of the City of London, which are a great preservation of men's houses in the night. Sir William Strickla?id. The gen- ei-al word minstrel will be best ; for if you go to enumerate, they will devise new instruments. Mr. Butler. Music is a lawful science, and I love it ; but in regard you restrain it to those places, I think the general word will serve well enough. Mr. Highland. Add singing as well as playing. Colonel Whetham. I hope you will not deprive men of their voices. Mr. Speaker. Singing is a natural, playing an artificial music. . . . Resolved, To agree with the Com- mittee in all the amendments. . . . M'-. Bampjield offered a report from James Nayler's Connnittee. . . . io6 The Protectorate A Short history of Nayler' s Life. ... 4. After lie (Nayler) had been up and down, he went to visit the Qiiakers in Cornwall, where he was committed as a \vanderer. . . . The articles against him read, and summed thus — That he assumed the gesture, words, names, and attributes of our Saviour Christ. Major- General Skippon. I do not marvel at this silence. Every man is astonished to hear this report. I am glad it is come hither. I hope it will mind you to look about you now. It is now come to your doors, to know how you that bear witness of Christ, do relish such things. God's dis- pleasure will be upon you if you do not lay out your especial endeavours in the things of God ; not to postpone them. You are cumbered about many things, but I may truly say this, iimim necessariuni . It has been always my opinion, that the growth of these things is more dan- oferous than the most intestine or foreign enemies. I have often been troubled in my thoughts to think of this tolera- tion [of the Quakers] ; I think I may call it so. Their great growth and increase is too notorious, both in Eng- land and Ireland ; their principles strike both at ministry and magistracy. . . . I am as tender as any man, to lay impositions upon men's consciences, but in these horrid things. I have been always against laws for matters ex post-facto ; but in this I am free to look back, for it is a special emergency. This offence is so high a blasphemy, that it ought not to be passed. For mv part, I am of opinion that it is horrid blasphemy. . . . Major- General Boteler. . . . We all sit here, I hope, for the glory of God. My ears did tingle, and my heart tremble, to hear the report. I am satisfied that there is too much of the report true. I have heard many of the blasphemies of this sort of people, but the like of this I never heard of. The punishment ought to be adequate to the offence. By the Mosaic law, blasphemers were to be stoned to death, . . . For my part, if this sen- tence should pass upon him, I could freely consent to it. . . . They [the Quakers] are generally despisers of your Govei-nment, con- temn your magistracy and ministry, and trample it under their feet. The magistrate is to be a terror unto evil works. If we punish murder and witchcraft, and let greater offenses go, as heresies and blasphemy, which is under the same enumeration ; for my part, I could never reconcile myself nor others to leave out the latter and punish the former offences. . . . Mr. Do-Juni7ig. . . . You know what the Parliament did with a Straf- ford in civil cases, and what the Par- liament has done against corrupt judges. If ever there was a business for a Par- liament, this is it. To supplant your God, oh, horrid ! . . . Colonel White. There is something omitted in the Report which Nayler said, and that to me seemed as blas- phemous as anything: that "the old bottles were broken, and new wine poured in;" intimating that he is the new Christ, and the old one laid aside. ... If you make the sentence death, I think he very well deserves it. I shall give my Yea. . . . Lord Stickland [after five others had spoken]. This seems not reason- able, that a man should first be con- demned, and then heard. I would have him called to the bar, to hear what he will say to the Report. Mr. Speaker [after four others]. If you call him to the bar, and he deny it, then you must go over all the charge and the evidence. . . . The Protectorate 107 Mr. Bampjield. ... If either you refer it back again to the Committee, or call the party to the bar, you must travel into all the evidence, and so render the vv^hole matter fruitless. He has been three times before us, and the Committee was every time more sat- isfied of the horridness of the blas- phemy. . . . Lord- Chief -y 11 s 1 1 c e . . . . That which sticks with me is, whether there is a witness against him at all ; not one against him upon oath. . . . Major- General Packer. The Re- port is a sufficient charge against him. [After 18 other speeches the debate was adjourned to the next day. Lord Lambert had said about Nayler " He was two years my quartermaster, and a very useful person. We parted with him with great regret. He was a man of a very unblameable life and conver- sation, a member of a very sweet society of an independent church. How he comes (by pride or otherwise) to be puffed up to this opinion I cannot determine. ... I shall be as ready to give my testimony against him as any- body, if it appear to be blasphemy."] Dec. 6th. Mr. Bampjield. The calling him to the bar is but a mean to delay the business. . . . He confessed that the woman [who was said to have wor- shipped him] said these words and expressions, which Mr. Piggott, by Providence, came to the Committee and informed; " Rise up, my love, my dove, my fairest one, why stayest thou amongst the pots ; " only he denied the woman's kissing his hand. Mr. Crake. . . . By all rules of law and justice, you ought first to call him to the bar ; haply he may deny matter of fact, haply matter of law. He may say it is not blasphemy. . . . Sir Gilbert Pickering. I move that it may be respited till Monday. It is now twelve, and it will take your time so long that you will be forced to sit as long as you did yesterday, which will not agree with many men's healths that are here. . . . Resolved, That Nayler be forthwith called to the bar and have the charge read to him, whereunto he is to give his answer Yea or No. . . . James Nayler being brought to the bar, refused to kneel or to put off his hat. The House agreed beforehand that they would not insist upon his kneeling . . . but commanded the Ser- jeant to take off his hat. [After the hearing.] Sir William Strickland. Nothing has been reported from the Committee, but is, to a grain, agreed by the party's own confession at the bar. . . . You have now hell groaning under expecta- tion of this issue, what you will do in this business. . . . Mr. Do-jcning. You are judge and jury. You have heard the prisoner at the bar, and will you leave the business in the midst, after issue joined? . . . Are not juries kept without meat and drink ; yea, carried from cart to cart, county to county, till they agree in lesser matters. Mr. Speaker. I remember what a gentleman in another Parliament said of the result of our long debates, that it was but as the verdict of a starved jury. It will not be so with us, for many members have dined, though others fast. . . . Dec. S. Lord Whitlock [author of the "Me- morials"]. . . . To give a judgment in point of life, no law being in force to that purpose, my humble opinion is, to go by way of bill. . . . The Grand io8 The Protectorate Committee, if you please, may appoint the punishment. . . . The like case was the Bishop of Rochester's cook, who, by Act of Parliament, had new punishment appointed him (i. e.) to be boiled in a hot lead. . . . Major Beake. I conceive you ought first to determine the offence, what it is, and then prepare a proportionable punishment. ... I conceive the judg- ment of Parliament is so sovereign, that it may declare that to be an offence Avhich never was an offence before. The Roman senate did the like in cases of parricide. . . . Captain Baynes. . . . You saw how he behaved himself at the bar. Not a cap to you, though ye be gods in one sense ; yet he will take cap, knee, kisses, and all reverence. His distinc- tion of visible and invisible makes his blasphemy plain. . . . God could have made him a pillar of salt immediately, if he had pleased; have struck him dead, but he has left it to you to vindi- cate his honour and glory. Now see what you will do. This is the day of temptation and trial of your zeal. . . . Lord President. This gentleman has spoken very zealously, vet they were honest men, too, that called for fire from Heaven, and we know how they were reproved. I have lived some time in the world, and seen what is abroad, and how careful wise men have been in proceeding in this kind. I wonder why any man should be so amazed at this. Is not God in every horse, in every stone, in every creature? ... If you hang every man that says, Christ is in you the hope of glorv., you will hang a good many. . . . Read the Report over, and let every man give his reasons why such a part is blasphemy. M^ajor General Skippon. By the rule that this honourable person offers, none shall meddle at all in matters of religion. . . . Mr. Bacon. ... It is much contro- verted here, whether a law may be made for a matter ex post facto. Nothing more ordinary in a Parliament. Was it not the case of the Bishop of Rochester's cook? He made broth which poisoned all the familv, and the beggars at the gates. Here was a law made, both £or the offence and the punishment. . . . Colonel Sydenham. . . . These Qiiakers, or Familists, affirm that Christ dwells personally in every be- liever. That wdiich I fear is, to draw this down into precedent, for, by the same ground, you may proceed against all of that sect. Again, that which sticks most with me, is the nearness of this opinion to that which is a most glorious truth, that the spirit is person- ally in us. ... If some of those Par- liaments were sitting in our places, I believe they would condemn most of us for heretics. ... I fear this long debate will make them without sav, one half of the House are Qiiakers, the other half, anti-Qiuikers. , . . Dr. C/rt-r^t?^- [after six others]. . . . You have here before you the greatest matter that ever came before a Parlia- ment. ... I shall speak no more ; but let us all stop our ears, and stone him — for he is guilty of horrid blasphemy ; nothing so apparent. . . . Resolved [after 3 1 other speeches] that this debate be adjourned till to- morrow morning. Dec. 16. [After // days of heated discussion.] Colonel White. There has been enough said in this business. I de- sire you would put some Question or other. . . . The question for the lesser punish- ment being read. Colonel White proposed that his tongue might be bored through. Colonel Barclay., that his hair might be cut off. The Protectorate IO(> Major- General Haines^ that his tongue might be slit or bored through, and that lie might be stigmatized with the letter B. , . . Major- General Whalley. Do not cut off his hair; that will make the people believe that tlie Parliament of England are of opinion that our Sav- iour Chri.st wore his hair so, and this will make all people in love with the fashion. . . . Major- General Disbroivc. I doubt if you slit his tongue, you mav endan- ger his life. It will be a death of a secret nature. Mr. Do-vning You ought to do something with that tongue that has bored through God. You ought to bore his tongue through. You punish a swearer so, and have some whipped through an affront to your members. Major Aiidley. It is an ordinary punishment for swearing. I have known twenty bored through the tongue. Resolved. That his tongue be bored through. Resolved. That he be marked with the letter B, in the forehead. Major- General Whalley proposed, that his lips might be slitted. Alderman J^oote^ that his head may be in the pillory, and that he be whipped from Westminster to the Old Exchange. . . . Colonel Cromwell., that he may be whipped through the whole City from Westminster to Aldgate. Major- General Gaffe, that he may also be restrained from society of women, as well as from men. . . . Colonel Shapcot, that his Bridewell may be at York, whence he came. Mr. Speaker and Sir IVm. Strick- land. He came not thence. I shall put it upon Bristol. . . . Sir Gilbert Pickering. Either be strict in this or you do nothing, for certainly this of Quakerism is as in- fectious as the plague. And that not only men, but women be kept from him. I have told you, it is a woman that has done all the mischief. Mr. Puller proposed, that he might be sent to Jamaica. . . . Sir William Strickland. ... I desire, rather, that he might be sent to Bristol. Mr. Highland. Those that come out of the North, are the greatest pests of the nation. The diggers came thence. Mr. Robinson. I hope that gentle- man does not mean by his pests, all that come thence. He means not us, I hope. . . . Resolved, that London be the place. Resolved, that James Nayler be set on the pillory, with his head in the pillory, in the New Palace Westmin- ster, during the space of two hours on Thursday next, and be whipped by the hangman through the streets of Westminster to the old Exchange, London ; and there likewise, to be set upon the pillory ... in each of the said places, wearing a paper contain- ing an inscription of his crimes : and that at the old Exchange, his- tongue shall be bored through with a hot iron, and that he be there also stigmatized . . . and that he be, afterwards, sent to Bristol and conveyed into and through the said city, on a horse bare ridged, with his face back . . . and . . . that he be committed to prison in Bridewell, London, and kept to hard labour till he be released by the Parliament : and, during that time, be debarred of the use of pen, ink, and paper, and have no relief but what he earns bv his dailv labour. no The Protectorate Dec. 25th. . . . Col. JMatthe-vs. The House is thin ; much, I believe, occasioned by obser\-ation of this day. I have a short Bill to prevent the superstition for the future. I desire it to be read. Mr. Robinson. I could get no rest all night for the preparation of this foolish dav's solemnity. . . . We are, I doubt, returning to Popery. Sir William Strickland. It is a very fit time to offer the Bill, this day, to bear your testimony against it, since people observe it with more solemnity than they do the Lord's day. . . . Major- General Packer., Major Aiidlev., and Sir Gilbert Pickering. . . . You see how the people keep up these superstitious obsei-vations to your face. . . . One mav pass from the Tower to Westminster and not a shop open, nor a creature stirring. . . . Dec. 26th. Mr. Speaker. ... I must acquaint you with a letter from the Lord Pro- tector. " Having taken notice of a sentence by you, given against one James Nay- ler, albeit we do abhor such wicked opinions and practices, we, being in- terested in the Government, desire to know the grounds and reasons how you proceeded herein without our con- sent." [Consternation in the House. — Ed.] . . . Major Audlcy. You ought not to have denied this person [Xay- ler] to have spoken when he desired it at the bar. Were he never so wicked, you ought to give him the liberty of an Englishman. I am sat- isfied, that though you have passed this sentence upon him, there may be much said against it. If he had been left to the law, it had been better. . . . Mr. Laic re nee . . . questioned the jurisdiction. He said there were but three powers ; arbitrary, we would not own ; legislative, is upon a joint au- thority by the Instrument. If by a judicatory power, we must have a law ; otherwise our proceedings are not justifiable. . . . Mr. Rouse. . . . Either you have done what vou ought to have done in executing part of your sentence, or vou have not. ... If you have done what you cannot justify, you must be whipped for whipping James Xayler. It was but a mock punishment. Colonel Holland. A merchant's wife told me that there was no skin left between his shoulders and his hips. It was no mock punishment. I could wish the business were ended amongst vou, that the remainder of the punish- ment might be remitted, and that would give his Highness satisfaction. Sir CJiristopher Peck. I shall ac- quaint vou with what the gaoler told me. There were but three places where the skin was any way hurt or broken, and it was no bigger than a pin's head. This gentleman is surely misinformed. Colonel He-vitson proposed, that a Committee might be appointed to find out a way how to give his Highness an account in this business. If the person was favoured in the punishment, it was the lenity of the executioner, not of the sentence. / was against it in my opinion. Sir William Strickland . It is not possible for us to stop the foul mouths of such a wicked generation. We are convinced of the justice of our pro- ceedings. . . . Mr. Downing-. I am sorrs' we have such a person in England as James Xay- ler, to give us all this trouble. Those that think his Highness' s letter seems to question why we passed this sentence without his consent, are mistaken. . . . The Protectorate 1 1 1 Sir John Reynolds. . . . I think there was nothing of the punishment spared. . . . That is not the dispute before us. I would have us seriously to debate this matter, that we may give his Highness an account of it. The consequence is dangerous, if we should draw these things into precedent. Captain Bavncs. I was against bringing this business into the House at the first. . . . Mr . Solicitor- General . . . . The whole question before you is, why a judgment, without my Lord Protector? The letter says, why a judgment with- out us. " We desire," saith the letter, " to know the grounds and reasons whereupon you made such a judgment." I desire that we might have leave to speak against your judgment. J/r. Godfrey. This gentleman moves very properly to have leave to speak against the judgment. If you give this leave I cannot but tremble to think of the consequence, I am sorry this happens, for you to go about to arraign your own judgment. ... If you revoke this, you must not only cry peccavi to James Xayler for what is passed, but to his Highness also, and also to the nation. Here is your power asserted on one hand ; the supi-eme mag- istrate, on the other hand, desiring an accoimt of your judgment. Where shall there be tertius arbiter? It is a hard case. Xo judge upon earth. I shall humbly move that a Committee might be appointed to acquaint his Highness with the sad consequences of such a dispute, and to desire him to lay aside the further questioning of this judgment. Mr. Attorney- General. Wc are bound up by our own judgment, ^\'e cannot speak against it, nor against the fact. You have asserted your judica- tory power. This is the first case. It is good it were now settled. I hear his Highness plead nothing for the fel- low. I think it were best first to whip him and then bring in a Bill to hang him. [A witticism? — Ed.] . . . Mr. Fo-.cell. . . . The House of Commons have, by their judicatorv. liberty to pass greater sentences than this. . . . There was a case in the latter end of King James's time where one Floyd abused the Qiieen of Bohemia. . . . The House of Commons, of their own jurisdiction, proceeded to sentence him to ride backwards on a horse, with a paper, etc. . . . Mr. Robinson. This is the most unfortunate business that ever came into this House. I was against it, at first . . . but I am not satisfied to give wav to speak against the judgment. J//'. Goodivin. ... I have heard of a Parliament called Insa)ium Parlia- mentiini. I wonder what his Highness will think of us, if we should not as- sert our jurisdiction. If we should rise without asserting our power, James Nayler may have his action against every individual member. Let us be- have ourselves like wise men. We have passed a judgment, and owned the jurisdiction. Let us not part with it. Mr. Rouse. We should return this short answer to his Highness' s letter, " We had power so to do." . . . Mr. Do-ctting-. My heart is verv full in this business. . . . We need not dispute our jurisdiction ourselves. There are enough to dispute it. The Instrument of Government is but new, and our jurisdiction is but new, too. Mr. Highland. ... If vou assert not your own power, you will be a matter of laughter, both to wise men and fools. Dec. 27. Colonel MarkJiani. ... It is an abominable thing to hear such unjust things informed to this House, as that I 12 The Protectorate of his whipping so hard, or his being sick. I would have the merchant's wife that reported it sent for and whipped. ... I desire you would be so tender of your honour as to put that question. Lord Lambert . Calmness better be- comes th's House, I like not these reflections. I desire the gentleman may explain himself. Colonel ^larkJiam stood up to jus- tify himself, and said he reflected upon no member, but only upon the mer- chant's wife. . . . Resolved, that the House be ad- journed till Tuesday. . . . The Committee for Mr. Scot and his wicked wife sat in the painted cham- ber. Mr, Godfrey had the chair (who once intended to have hanged her in the country.) Both parties appeared: She said, " How do you do, Mr. Scot ? " He answered little : no sweet- heart, dear, nor angel. This Com- mittee adjourned till this day se'n- night. . . . This (lav B. and I were to see Nay- ler's tongue bored through, and him marked in the forehead. He put out his tongue very willingly, but shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead. He was pale when he came out of the pillory, but high-coloured after tongue-boring. He was bound with a cord by both arms to the pil- lory. Rich, the mad merchant, sat bare at Nayler's feet all the time. Sometimes he sang and cried, and stroked his hair and face, and kissed his hand, and sucked the fire out of his forehead. Nayler embraced his execu- tioner, and behaved himself very hand- somely and patiently. A great crowd of people there, [After much more excited debating about the judicial power of the Parlia- ment and the answer to be returned to Cromwell, the matter is suddenly dropped. The Protector must have raised his wand. On Friday, Jan. 2, specially appointed for continuing the discussion, there is this irrelevant notice: "Resolved, that Judge Law- rence and Colonel Talbot be added to the Scotch Committee. Thus was the business of the day jostled out, and nobody said a word to it. L hear it will never be mentioned again ; if it be^ L dread the consequence. Absit." —Ed.] , . . Jan. 14th, 1656-7. . . . Robinson presented Hobbe's Leviathaji to the Committee, as a most poisonous piece of atheism. . . . Jan. 19. . . . Sir Gilbert Pickering and JMaJor- General Boteler, moved that Wednes- day afternoon may be the time ap- pointed to wait upon his Highness, the whole House, to congratulate his deliv- erance [from one of the many attempts to assassinate him]. . , . Sir Gilbert Pickerijig. . , , There was a very good pattern propounded to us as to the manner of addresses to his Highness, upon another occasion, about three or four months ago, I confess I liked that method well. ... It was Major-General Goffe, upon the debate about the thanksgiving for the late vic- tory from Spain, . It was a long im- peachment, seriously inviting the House to a firm, and a kind of corporal union with his Highness. Something was expressed as to hanging about his neck like pearls, from a text out of Canti- cles. [ Thy neck is like the tower of Davtd . . . whereon there hang a thousand bucklers. — Ed.] . . . Mr. Ashe, the elder. ... I would have something else added, which, in my opinion, would tend very The Protectorate i'3 much to the preservation of himself and us, and to the quieting of all the designs of our enemies ; — that his High- ness would be pleased to take upon him the government according to the ancient constitution [i. e., become king. Ed.] ; so that the hopes of our ene- mies' plots would be at an end. Both our liberties and peace, and the preser- vation and privilege of his Highness, would be founded upon an old and sure foundation. . . . Mr. HigJiland. That gentleman that moved this was one of those that w^as for the pulling down of what he would now set up again. That was Kings, Lords and Commons ; a consti- tution which we have pulled down with our blood and treasure. Will you make the Lord Protector the greatest hypocrite in the world ? . . . I desire this motion may die, as abominable. This will set all the honest people of this nation to weeping and mourning. . . . The debate fell asleep, I know not how, but I believe it was by con- sent, (as I heard Mr. Nathaniel Bacon and others say, as they came out) and only started by way of probation. I have not seen so hot a debate vanish so strangely, like an ignis fatnjts. . . . March 7th. ... I suppose you have heard of the Address made by 100 officers, to his Highness, yesterday se'nnight, that his Highness would not hearken to the title (king) because it was not pleasing to his army, and was matter of scandal to the people of God, of great rejoicing to the enemy; that it was hazardous to his own person, and of great danger to the three nations ; such an assumption making way for Charles Stewart to come in again. His Highness returned answer pres- ently to this effect, — that the first man that told him of it, was he, the mouth of tlie officers then present (meaning Colonel Mills) ; that, for his part he had never been at any cabal about the same (hinting by that, the frequent cabals that were against Kingship by certain officers). He said, the time was, when they boggled not at the word, (king), for the Instrument by which the Government now stands, was presented to his Highness with the title (king) in it, as some there present could witness, pointing at a principal officer, then in his eye, and he refused to accept of the title. But, how it comes to pass that they now startle at that title, they best knew. That, for his part, he loved the title, a feather in a hat [Ludlow: "Cromwell said it was but a feather in a man's cap, and therefore wondered that men would not please the children and permit them to enjoy their rattle."] as little as they did. That they had made him their drudge upon all occasions ; to dis- solve the Long Parliament, who had contracted evil enough by long sitting; to call a Parliament, or Convention of their naming, who met ; and what did they? fly at liberty and property, inso- much as if one man had tw'elve cows, they held another that wanted cows ought to take share with his neighbour. Who could have said anything was their own, if they had gone on? . . . It is time to come to a settlement, and lay aside arbitrary proceedings, so un- acceptable to the nation. And by the proceedings of this Parliament, you see they stand in need of a check, or bal- ancing power (meaning the House of Lords, or a House so constituted) for the case of James Nayler might happen to be your own case. By their judicial power they fall upon life and member, and doth the Instrument enable me to control it? These were some of the heads, insisted on in his speech, though perhaps not the 114 The Protectorate same words, yet the full sense ; and the officers since that time are quieted, and many fallen from the rest. . . . [The negotiations on this subject were inter- minable. See Carlyle, who devotes half a volume to them. — Ed. J June 20, 1657. . . . J/r. Bampjield^ Major- Gen- eral W/iallev, and Mr. Vincoit moved, that the Bill for the Sabbath might be read. . . . Colonel I/o/Iaf/d. We have but too many penal laws, and 100 clauses of that kind may well be repealed. These laws are always turned upon the most godly. This is very strict, as to that of unnecessary walking, and coming into men's houses. The last Bill for the Lord's Day, I remember, was passed on a Saturday and carried on with great zeal. Then I told them they had tied men from coming to church by water or coach. Next day, I, coming to Somerset House to sermon, had my boat and waterman laid hold on for the penalty. . . . Lord Chief-Justice GIvnn. I move against the clause for entering into men's houses. It may be a snare to all the nation ; and knaves, in the night- time, may enter and rob men's houses under this Pretence. When an Act of Parliament gives a liberty of entry, then a man may break open doors. Mr. Grove. The constable's voice is well known, and no man can be robbed under that jiretcnce. Mr. Godfrey moved a proviso, to limit the officers' entry only to taverns, inns, etc. . . . Mr. Vincent and Colonel Chadivick were not satisfied with the proviso. It was too short ; for, now a-davs, the greatest disorders were in private houses, by sending thither for drink. . . . Sir Christopher Pack. I move that cooks' houses be comprehended. . . . Lord Whitlock. I am against all liberty of this kind, to enter men's houses. The law has always been tender of men's houses. I would not have the people of England enslaved. Mr. West, I except against the words in the Bill, " idle sitting, openly, at gates or doors, or elsewhere;" and " walking in church-yards etc." . . . Let a man be in what posture he wMll, your penalty finds him. . . . Mr. Godfrey. I move to leave out the words, " profane and idle sitting;" for this joins issue between the officer and the party, and puts a plea in the party's mouth which is not triable. He will say he is talking or meditating about good things. . . . Mr. Foivell. I move to leave out the whole clause. . . . JMr. Bodiirda. . . . Some persons have not conveniency to sit at doors ; so I would have you add more to it, viz. : " leaning or standing at doors." Mr. J7ncent. Though the law seems a little strict in this clause, yet this clause is not to be derided. I can- not think such sitting at doors, as is visual, can be a sanctification of the Lord's day. I would have the question divided. First put it upon working, and then upon sitting at doors. The Master of the Rolls. ... In some parts of this city, unless people have liberty to sit at doors, you deprive them of most of the air they have all the week, and destroy their children. Lord Chief Justice. ( ^uatenus ipsnm.) It is most certain that there is no unlawfulness or guilt in single sitting at doors. It must be the same as within doors. It is but intended for example's sake. . . . You put a negative pregnant upon a man, to say that sitting at the door is more profane than standing; s& The Protectorate 115 there is no such derision in tliat. It may cause discord, and prying amongst neighbours, into the actions of one another. xVnd this is still left in the judgment of constables and head- boroughs, who are generally bad all the nation over. . . . Colonel Briscoe. . . . Alan's law- must not be too severe, but rational : that men may be convinced of the reason of it. I would not have laws too rigid. J/aj'or Btirton. You had as good leave out the whole Bill as leave out this clause. J//-. West. You would not leave out the word "elsewhere;" for there may be profaneness, by sitting under some eminent tree in a village, or an arbour, or Gray's- Inn walks. The whole clause being put to the question, tlie House was divided. The 2'cas went forth. Noes 37. Colonel Briscoe and Mr. Williams, Tellers. Teas 35. Mr. Rhodes and Mr. All- sopp, Tellers. So it passed to leave it out [By a majority of 2 !] GROUP XIV. THE RETURN AND CORONATION OF CHARLES II. I. Extracts from Evelyn and Pepys. Evelyn . Oct. 22nd, 165S. Saw ye superb funerall of ye Pro- tector. He was carried from Somer.set House in a velvet bed of state drawn by six horses, houss'd with ye same; the pall held by his new Lords ; Oliver lying in effigie in royal robes, and crown'd with a crown, sceptre and globe, like a king. The pendants and guidons were carried by ye officers of the army ; the Imperial banners, achievements, etc., by ye heraulds in their coates ; a rich caparison' d horse, embroidered all over with gold ; a knight of honour arm'd cap-a-j^ie, and after all, his guards, souldiers, and in- numerable mourners. In this equipage they proceeded to Westminster : but it was the joyfullest funerall I ever saw, for there were none that cried but dogs, which the soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and taking tobacco in the streetes as they went. Nov. 7, 1659. Was publish'd my bold " Apologie for the King " in this time of danger, when it was capital to speake or write in favour of him. It w-as twice printed, so universaly it took. Jan. 1 2th, 1659-60. Wrote to Col. Morley againe to de- clare for his Majesty. Feb. 3rd. Kept ye fast. Generall Monk came now to London out of Scotland, but no man knew what he would do, or declare, yet he was met on his way by the gentlemen of all the counties which he pass'd, with petitions that he would recall the old long interrupted Parlia- ment, and settle the nation in some order, being at this time in most pro- digious confusion and under no govern- ment, everybody expecting what would be next and what he would do. Feb. loth. Now were the gates of the citty broken down by General Monk, which exceedingly exasperated the citty, the souldiers marching up and down as triumphing over it, and all the old army of the phanatics put out of their posts, and sent out of towne. Feb. nth. A signal day. Monk, perceiving iiow infamous and wretched a pack of knaves 1 16 Charles II. would have still usurped the supreame power, and having intelligence that they intended to take away his commission, repenting of what he had don to ye citty, and where he and his forces were quartered, marches to White-hall, dissi- pates that nest of robbers, and convenes the old Parliament, the Rump Parlia- ment (so call'd as retaining some few rotten members of ye other) being dis- solved ; and for joy whereoff were many thousand of rumps roasted publicly in ye streetes at the bon-fires this night, with ringing of bells, and universal jubilee. This was the first good omen. From Feb. 17th to April 5th I was detain' d in bed with a kind of double tertian. . . . During this sicknesse came divers of my relations and friends to visite me, and it retarded my going into the country longer than I intended ; however, I writ and printed a letter, in defence of his Majesty, against a wicked forg'd paper, pretended to be sent from Bruxells to defame his Majesties person and vertues, and render him odious, now when everybody was in hope and expectation of the General and Parlia- ment recalling him, and establishing ye government on its antient and right basis. Pepys. March 5th, 1660. To Westminster by water, only see- ing Mr. Pinky at his own house, where he showed me how he had always kept the lion and unicorn, in the back of his chimney, bright, in expectation of the king's coming again. At home I found Mr. Hunt, who told me how the Par- liament had voted that the Covenant be printed and hung in churches again. Great hopes of the king coming again. 6th. . . . My Lord told me, that there was great endeavours to bring in the Pro- tector again ; but he told me, too, that he did believe it would not last long if he were brought in, no, nor the king neither (though he seems to think that he will come in), unless he carry him- self very soberly and well. Everybody now drink the king's health without any fear, whereas before it was very private that a man dare do it. Monk this day is feasted at Mercer's Hall. . '. . 1 6th. To Westminster Hall, where I heard how the Parliament had this day dis- solved themselves, and did pass very cheerfully through the Hall, and the Speaker without his mace. The whole Hall was joyful thereat, as well as them- selves, and now they begin to talk loud of the king. To-night, I am told, that yesterday, about five o'clock in the afternoon, one came with a ladder to the Great Exchange, and wiped with a brush the inscription that was on King Charles, and that there was a great bon- fire made in the Exchange, and people called out " God bless King Charles the Second!" 19th. All the discourse nowaday is, that the king will come again, and for all I see, it is the wishes of all ; and all do believe that it will be so. April I ith. . . . All the news from London is that things go on further towards a king. That the Skinner's Company the other day at their entertaining Gen- eral Monk had took down the Parlia- ment arms in their Hall, and set up the king's. My Lord and I had a great deal of discourse about the several cap- tains of the fleet, and his niterest among them, aiwl had his mind clear to bring in tlic king. He confessed to me that he was not sure of his own captain, to be true to him, and that he did not like Captain Stokes. Charles 11. 117 2:ik1. Several Londoners, strangers, friends of the captain, dined here, who, among other things, told us how the king's arms are every day set up in houses and churches, particularly in Allhallows Church in Thames Street, John Simp- son's church, which being privately done was a great eyesore to his people when they came to church and saw it. Also they told us for certain that the king's statue is making by the Mercer's Company (who are bound to do it) to set up in the Exchange. May I St. To-da\- I hear they were very merry at Deale, setting up the king's flags upon one of their maypoles, and drink- ing his health upon their knees in the streets, and firing the guns, which the soldiers of the castle threatened, but durst not oppose. 2nd. Mr. Dunne from London, with letters that tell us the welcome news of the Parliament's votes yesterday, which will be remembered for the happiest May-day that hath been many a year to England. The king's letter was read in the House, wherein he submits him- self and all things to them, as to an Act of Oblivion to all, unless they shall please to except any, as to the confirm- ing of the sales of the king's and Church lands, if they see good. The House, upon reading the letter, ordered JC50,coo to be forthwith provided to send to his Majesty for his present sup- ply ; and a committee chosen to return an answer of thanks to his Majesty for his gracious letter ; and that the letter be kept among the records of the Par- liament ; and in all this not so much as one No. So tliat Luke Robinson him- self stood up and made a recantation of what he had done, and promises to be a loyal subject to his prince for the time to come. The City of London have put out a declaration, wherein they do disclaim their owning any other government but that of a King, Lords, and Commons. Thanks was given by the House to Sir John Greenville, one of the Bedchamber to the king, who brought the letter, and they continued bare all the time it was reading. Upon notice from the Lords to the Commons, of their desire that the Commons would join with them in their vote for King, Lords, and Commons; the Commons did concur, and voted that all books whatever that are out against the Gov- ernment of King, Lords and Commons should be brought into the House and burned. Great joy all yesterday at London, and at night more bonfires than ever, and ringing of bells, and drinking of the king's health upon their knees in the streets, which methinks is a little too much. But everybody seems to be joyful in the business, in- somuch that our sea-commanders now begin to say so too, which a week ago they would not do. And our seamen, as many as had money or credit for drink, did do nothing else this evening. This day come Mr. North (Sir Dudley North's son) on board, to spend a little time here, which my Lord was a little troubled at, but he seems to be a fine gentleman, and at night did play his part exceeding well at first sight. 3rd. This morning my Lord showed me the King's declaration, and his letter to the two generals, to be communicated to the fleet. The contents of the letter are his offer of grace to all that will come in within forty days, only except- ing them that the Parliament shall here- after except. That the sales of lands during these troubles, and all other things, shall be left to the Parliament, bv which he will stand. The letter ii8 Charles II. dated at Breda, April 4-14, 1660, in the twelfth year of his reign. Upon the receipt of it this moiiningby an express, Mr. Philips, one of the messengers of the Council from General Monk, my Lord summoned a council of war, and in the meantime did dictate to me how he would have the vote ordered which he would have pass this council. Which done, the commanders all came on board, and the council sat in the coach (the first council of war that had been in my time), where I read the letter and declaration ; and while they were discoursing upon it, I seemed to draw up a vote, which being offered, they passed. Not one man seemed to say no to it, though I am confident many in their hearts were against it. After this was done, I went up to the quai"ter-deck with my Lord and the commanders, and there read both the papers and the vote ; which done, and demanding their opinion, the seamen did all of them cry out, " God bless King Charles ! " with the greatest joy immaginable. . . . Evelyyi . May 3rd. Came the most happy tidings of his Majesty's gracious declaration and ap- plications to the Parliament, Generall, and People, and their dutiful acceptance and acknowledgement, after a most bloudy and unreasonable rebellion of neare 20 yeares. Praised be forever the Lord of Heaven, who onely doeth won- drous things, be-cause His mercy endur- eth forever. Pepys. May 3rd. My letters at night tell me that the House did deliver their letter to vSir John Greenville, in answer to the King's sending, and that they give him £500 for his pains, to buy him a jewel, and that besides the £^05000 ordered to be borrowed of the City for the pres- ent use of the King, the twelve com- panies of the City do give every one of them to his Majesty as a present, £. 1 ,000. 5th. . . . This evening come Dr. Clarges to Deal, going to the King, where the townspeople strew^ed the streets with herbs against his coming, for joy of his going. Never was there so general a content as there is now. I cannot but remember that our parson did, in his prayer tonight, pray for the long life and happiness of our King and dread Sovereign, that may last as long as the sun and moon endureth. i6th. . . . This afternoon Mr. Edward Pickering told me in what a sad, poor condition for clothes and money the King was, and all his attendants, when he came to him first from my Lord, their clothes not being worth forty shil- lings the best of them. And how over- joyed the King was when Sir J. Green- ville brought him some money ; so joyful, that he called the Princess Royal and Duke of York to look upon it as it lay in the portmanteau before it was taken out. . . . 17th. . . . Before dinner Mr. Edw. Pick- ering and I,W. Howe, Pim and my boy, to Scheveling, where we took coach, and so to the Hague, where walking, intending to find one that might show us the King incognito, I met with Cap- tain Whittington (that had formerly brought a letter to my Lord from the Mayor of London), and he did promise me to do it, but first we went and dined. At dinner in came Dr. Cade, a merry mad parson of the King's. And they two got the child and me (the others not being able to crowd in) to see the King, who kissed the child very Charles II. 119 affectionately. Then we kissed his, and the Duke of York's and the Princess Royal's hands. The King seems to be a very sober man ; and a very splendid Court he hath in the number of per- sons of quality that are about him ; English very rich in habit. From the King to the Lord Chancellor, who did lie bed-rid of the gout : he spoke very merrily to the child and me. After that, going to see the Qiieen of Bohemia, [the Winter Qiieen] I met Dr. Fuller, whom I sent to a tavern with Mr. Edw. Pickering, while I and the rest went to see the Queen, who used us very respectfully : her hand we all kissed. She seems a very debonaire, but a plain lady. . . . 3 1 St. . . . hearing by letters that came hither in my absence, that the Parlia- ment had ordered all persons to be secured, in order to a trial, that did sit as judges in the late King's death, and all the officers attending the Court. Sir John Lenthall moving in the House, that all that had borne arms against the King should be exempted from par- don, he was called to the bar of the House, and after a severe reproof he was degraded his knighthood. 23rd. In the morning come infinity of peo- ple on board from the King to go along with him. My Lord, Mr. Crewe, and others go on shore to meet the King as he comes off from shore, where Sir R. Stayner, bringing his Majesty into the boat, I hear that his Majesty did with a great deal of affection kiss my Lord upon his first meeting. The King, with the two Dukes and Qiteen of Bo- hemia, Princess Royal, and Prince of Orange, come on board, where I in their coming in kissed the King's, Qiieen' s, and Princess's hands, having done the other before. Infinite shoot- ing off of the guns, and that in a dis- order on purpose, which was better than if it had been otherwise. All day nothing but Lords and persons of honour on board, that we were exceed- ing full. Dined in a great deal of state, the Royal company by themselves in the coach, which was a blessed sight to see. After dinner the King and Duke altered the name of some of the ships, viz., the Nazeby, into Charles; the Richard, James; the Speaker, Mary. . . . We weighed anchor, and with a fresh gale and most happy weather we set sail for England. All the afternoon the King walked here and there, up and down (quite contrary to w^hat I thought him to have been) very active and stirring. Upon the quarter- deck he fell into discourse of his escape from Worcester, where it made me ready to weep to hear the stories that he told of his difficulties that he had passed through, as his travelling four days and three nights on foot, every step up to his knees in dirt, with nothing but a green coat and a pair of country breeches on, and a pair of country shoes that made him so sore all over his feet that he could scarce stir. Yet he was forced to run away from a miller and other company, that took them for rogues. His sitting at table at one place, where the master of the house that had not seen him in eight years, did know him, but kept it private; when at the same table there was one that had been of his own regiment at Worcester, could not know him, but made him drink the King's health, and said that the King was at least four fingers higher than he. At another place he was by some servants of the house made to drink, that they might know that he was not a Roundhead, which they swore he was. In another place at his inn, the master of the house, as the King was standing with his hands I20 Charles II. upon the back of a chair by the fireside, kneeled down and kissed his hand, pri- vately, saying, that he would not ask him who he was, but bid God bless him whither he was going. Then the diffi- culties in getting a boat to get into France, where he was fain to plot with the master thereof to keep his design from the foreman and a bov (which was all the ship's company), and so get to Fecamp in France. At Rouen he loQked so poorly, that the people went into the rooms before he went away to see whether he had not stole something or other. 25th. By the morning we were come close to the land, and everybody made ready to get on shore. The King and the two Dukes did eat their breakfast before they went, and there being set some ship's diet, they ate of nothing else but pease and pork, and boiled beef . . . and so got on shore when the King did, who was received by General Monk with all imaginable love and respect at his entrance upon the land of Dover. Infinite the crowd of people and the horsemen, oitizens, and noblemen of all sorts. The Mayor of the town came and gave him his white staff, the badge of his place, which the King did give him again. The Mayor also pre- sented him from the town a very rich Bible, which he took, and said it was the th'ing that he loved above all things in the world. A canopy was provided for him to stand under, which he did, and talked awhile with General Monk and others, and so into a stately coach there set for him, and so away through the town towards Canterbury, without making any state at Dover. The shout- ing and joy expressed by all is past imagination. Sedng that my Lord did not stir out of his barge, I got into a boat and so into his barge. My Lord almost transported with joy that he had done all this without any the least blur or obstruction in the world. . . . Evelyn. May 29th. This day his Majestie Charles the Second came to London after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the king and church, being 17 yeares. This was also his birth-day, and with a triumph of above 20,000 hoi-se and foote, brandishing their swords and shouting with inexpressible joy ; the wayes strewed with flowers, the bells ringing, the streetes hung with tapissry, fountaines running with w^ine ; the Maior, Aldermen, and all the Compa- nies in their liveries, chaines of gold and banners ; Lords and Nobles clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet ; the windowes and balconies all set with ladies ; trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were seven houres in passing the citty, even from 2 in ye afternoone till 9 at night. I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and bless' d God, And all this was don without one drop of bloud shed, and by that very army which rebell'd against him; but it was ye Lord's doing, for such a restauration was never mention' d in any history antient or modern, since the returne of the Jews from the Baby- lonish captivity ; nor so joyfull a day and so bright ever seene in this nation, this hapning when to expect or effect it was past all human policy. June 4th. I was carried to his Majestie when very few noblemen were with him, and kiss'd his hands, being very graciously receiv'd. . . . June iSth. Goods that had been pillag'd frome White-hall during ye rebellion were now daily brought in and restor'd upon proclamation ; as plate, hangings, pic- tures, etc. l'«terJ,f(rTt/a^ifin6 CHARLES II. Charles II. 121 July 5th. I saw his Majestic go witli as much pompe and splendour as any earthly prince could do to the greate citty feast. . . . Pepys. July 5th. This morning my brother Tom brought me my jackanapes coat with silver buttons. It rained this morning, which makes us fear that the glory of this day will be lost ; the King and Parliament being to be entertained by ' the City to-day with great pomp. Mr. Hater was with me to-day, and I agreed with him to be my clerk. Being at Whitehall I saw, the King, the Dukes, and all their attendants go forth in the rain to the City, and it spoiled many a fine suit of clothes. . . . October 13th. I went out to Charing Cross, to see Major-General Harrison hanged, drawn and quartered ; which was done there, he looking as cheerful as any man could do in that condition. He was pres- ently cut down, and his head and heart shown to the people, at which there was great shouts of joy. It is said that he said that he was sure to come shortly at the right hand of Christ to judge them that now had judged him ; and that his wife do expect his coming again. Thus it was my chance to see the King beheaded at Whitehall, and to see the first blood shed in revenge for the King at Charing Cross. 15th. This morning Mr. Carew was hanged and quartered at Charing Cross ; but his quarters, by a great favour, are not to be hanged up. Evelyn. Oct. 17th. Scot, Scroope, Cook and Jones, suf- fered for the reward of their iniquities at Charing Crosse, in sight of the place where they put to death their natural Prince, and in the presence of the King his sonn, whom they also sought to kill. I saw not their execution, but met their quarters mangled and cutt and reeking as they were brought from the gallow'S in baskets on the hurdle. the miraculous providence of God ! Pepys. Oct. iSth. This morning, it being expected that Colonel Hacker and Axtel should die, 1 went to Newgate, but fovmd they were reprieved till to-morrow. 19th. This morning my dining-room was finished with green serge hanging and gilt leather, which is very handsome. This morning Hacker and Axtel were hanged and quartered, as the rest are. . . . 20th. . . . This afternoon, going through London, and calling at Crowe's the upholsterer's in Saint Bartholomew's, I saw limbs of some of our new traitors set upon Aldersgate, which was a sad sight to see ; and a bloody week this and the last have been, there being ten hanged, drawn, and quartered. Evelyu . Jan. 30th, 1 660- 1. . . . This day (O the stupendous and inscrutable judgments of God!) were the carcasses of those arch rebells Cromwell, Bradshaw the Judge who condemn' d his Majestic, and Ireton sonn-in-law to ye Usurper, dragg'd out of their superb tombs in Westminster among the Kings, to Tyburne, and hanged on the gallows there from 9 in ye morning till 6 at night, and then buried under that fatal and ignominious monument in a dcepe pitt ; thousands of people who had scene them in all J 22 Charles II. their pride heins^ spectators. Looke back at Nov, 2 2n(l, i6^S,* and be astonish' d ! and feare God and honor ye King; but meddle not with them who are given to change ! . . . May 22nd, 1 66 1. The Scotch Covenant was burnt by the common hangman in divers phices in London. Oh prodigious change ! Pcpys. April 22nd, 1 66 1. The King's going from the Tower to Whitehall. Up early and made myself as fine as I could, and put on my velvet coat, the first day that I put it on, though made half a year ago. And being ready. Sir W. Batten, my Lady, and his two daughters and his son and wife, and Sir W. Pen and his son and I, went to Mr. Young's the flag-maker, in Cornhill ; and there we had a good room to ourselves, with wine and good cake, and saw the show very well. In which it is impossible to relate the glory of this day, expressed in the clothes of them that rid, and their horses and their horse's clothes. Among others, my Lord Sandwich's embroidery and diamonds where not ordinary among them. The Knights of the Bath was a brave sight of itself ; and their Esquires, among which Mr. Armiger was an Esquire of one of the Knights. Remarkable were the two men that represented the two Dukes of Normandy and Aquitaine. The Bishops come next after Barons, which is the higher place ; which makes me think that the next Parliament they will be called to the House of Lords. My Lord Monk rode bare after the King, and led in his hand a spare horse, as being Master of the Horse. The King, in a most rich embroidered suit and cloak, looked most noble. Wad- low, the vintner, at the Devil, in Fleet * See page 1 15. Street, did lead a fine company of sol- diers, all young comely men, in w'hite doublets. There followed the Vice- Chamberlain, Sir G. Carteret, a com- pany of men all like Turks ; but I know not yet, what they are for. The streets all gi'avelled, and the houses hung with carpets before them, made brave show, and the ladies out of the windows. So glorious was the show with gold and silver, that we are not able to look at it, our eyes at last being so much overcome. Both the King and the Duke of York took notice of us, as they saw us at the window. In the evening, by water to Whitehall to my Lord's, and there I spoke witli mv Lord. He talked with me about my suit, which was made in France, and cost him £200, and very rich it is with embroiderv. Coronation Day 23rd. About four I rose and got to the Abbey, wdiere I followed Sir J. Den- ham, the surveyor, with some company that he was leading in. And with much ado, by the favor of Mr. Cooper, his man, did get up into a great scaffold across the north end of the Abbey, where with a great deal of patience I sat from past four till eleven before the King came in. And a great pleas- ure it was to see the Abliey raised in the middle, all covered with red, and a throne (that is a chair) and a foot-stool on the top of it ; and all the officers of all kinds, so much as the very fiddlers, in red vests. At last comes in the Dean and the Prebends of Westminster, with the Bishops (many of them in cloth-of- gold capes), and after them the nobility, all in their Parliament robes, which was a most magnificent sight. Then the Duke and the King with sceptre (carried bv my Lord Sandwich) and sword and wand before him, and the crown too. Charles II. 12 The King in his robes, bai'eheaded, Avhich \vas very fine. And after all had placed themselves, there was a sermon and a service ; and then in the Choir at the high altar, the King passed through all the ceremonies of the coronation, which to my great grief I and most in the Abbey could not see. The crown being put upon his head, a great shout begun, and he came forth to the throne, and there passed through more cei-e- emonies : as taking the oaths, and hav- ing things read to him by the Bishop,; and his lords (who put on their caps as soon as the king put on his ci'own) and bishops come and kneeled before him. And three times the king at arms went to the three open places on the scaffold, and proclaimed, that if any one could show- any reason why Charles Stewart should not be King of England, that now he should come and speak. And a General Pardon also was read by the Lord Chancellor, and medals flung up and down by my Lord Corn- wallis, of silver, but I could not come by any. But so great was the noise that I could make but little of the music ; and indeed it was lost to every body. I went out a little while before the king had done all the ceremonies, and went round the Abbey to Westminster Hall all the way within rails, and 10,000 people with the ground covered with blue clotli ; and scaffolds all the w^ay. Into the Hall I got, where it was very fine with hangings and scaffolds one upon another full of brave ladies ; and my wife in one little one, on the right hand. Here I stayed walking up and down, and at last upon one of the side stalls I stood and saw the King come in with all the persons (but the soldiers) that were yesterday in the cavalcade ; and a most pleasant sight it was to see them in their several robes. And the King come in with the crown on, and his scepter in his hand, and a canopy borne up by six silver staves, carried by Barons of the Cinque Ports, and little bells at every end. And after a long time, he got up to the farther end, and all set themselves down at their several tables ; and that was also a brave sight : and the King's first course carried up b}" the Knights of the Bath. And many fine ceremonies there was of the herald's leading up people before him, and bow- ing ; and my Loixl of Albemarle' s going to the kitchen and eating a bit of the first dish that was to go to the King's table. But, above all, was there three Lord's, Northumberland, and Suffolk, and the Duke of Ormond, coming before the courses on horseback, stay- ing so all dinner-time, and at last bring- ing up (Dymock) the King's champion, all in armour on horseback, with the spear and target carried before him. And a herald proclaims, that if any dare deny Charles Stewart to be lawful " King of England, here was a cham- pion that would fight for him;" and with these words, the champion flings down his gauntlet, and all this he do three times in his going up towards the King's table. To which when he is come, the King drinks to him, and then sends him the cup, which is of gold, and he drinks it off, and then rides back again with the cup in his hand. I went from table to table to see the bishops and all others at their dinner, and was infinitely pleased with it. And at the Lords table I met with William Howe, and he spoke to my Lord for me, and he did give him four rabbits and a pullet, and so Mr. Creed and I got Mr. Min- shell to give us some bread, and so we at a stall eat it, as everybody else did what they could get. I took a great deal of pleasure to go up and down, and look upon the ladies, and to hear the music of all sorts, but above all the twenty-four violins. About six at night they had dined, and I went up to my 124 Charles II wife. And strange it is to think that these two days have held up fair till now that all is done, and the King gone out of the Hall ; and then it fell a-rain- ing and thundering and lightning as I liave not seen it do for some years ; which people did take great notice of. God's blessing of the work of these two days, which is a foolery to take too much notice of such things. I observed little disorder of all this, only the King's footmen had got hold of the canopy, and would keep it from the Barons of the Cinque Ports, which they endeav- oured to force from them again, but could not do it till my Lord the Duke of Albemarle caused it to be put in Sir R. Pye's hand till to-morrow to be decided. . . . 24th. At night, set myself to write down these three days diary, and while I am about it, I hear the noise of the cham- bers, and other things of the flrewoi'ks, which are now playing upon the Thames before the King ; and I wish myself with them, being sorry not to see them. GROUP XV. THE PLAGUE OF LONDON, Extracts from Pepys's Diary. 166: June 7th, 1665. The hottest day that ever I felt in my life. This day, much against my will, I did in Drury Lane see two or three houses marked with a red cross upon the doors, and " Lord have mercy upon us!" written there; which was a sad sight to me, being the first of the kind that, to my remembrance, I ever saw. • June loth. In the evening home to supper; and there, to my great trouble, hear that the plague is come into the City, though it hath, these three or four weeks since its beginning, been wholly out of the City ; but where should it begin but in my good friend and neighbour's, Dr. Burnett, in Fenchurch Street ; which, in both points, troubles me mightily. June nth. I saw poor Dr. Burnett's door shut; but he hath, I hear, gained great good- will among his neighbours : for he discovered it himself first, and caused himself to be shut up of his own ac- cord ; which was very handsome. June 15th. Up, and put on my new stuff suit with close knees, which becomes me most nobly, as my wife says. . . . The town grows very sickly, and people to be afraid of it ; there dying this last week of the plague ii3, from 43 the week before ; whereof but one in Fen- church Street, and one in Broad Street, by the Treasurer's office. June 17th. It struck me very deep this afternoon going with a hackney coach from Lord Treasurer's down Holborn, the coach- man I found to drive easily and easily, at last stood still, and came down hardly able to stand, and told me that he was suddenly struck very sick, and almost blind — he could not see ; so I alight, and went into another coach, with a sad heart for the poor man and for my- self also lest he should have been struck with the plague. June 23rd. Home by hackney-coach, which is become a very dangerous passage now- a-days, the sickness increasing mightily. The Plague of London 125 June 27th. The plague increases mightily, I this day seeing a house, at a bit- maker's, over against St. Clement's Church, in the open street, shut up, which is a sad sight. June 38th. In my way to Westminster Hall, I ob- served several plague-houses in King's Street and near the Palace. June 29th. By water to Whitehall, where the Court full of waggons and people ready to go out of town. This end of the' town every day grows very bad of the plague. The IMortality Bill is come to 267, which is about ninety more than the last ; and of these but four in the City, which is a great blessing to us. July I St. To Westminster, where I hear the sickness increases greatly. Sad at the news, that seven or eight houses in Buryinghall Street are shut up of the plague. July 3rd. The season growing so sickly, that it is much to be feared how a man can escape having a share with others in it, for which the good Lord God bless me ! or make me fitted to receive it. July 6th. I could not see Lord Brouncker, nor had much mind, one of the two great houses within two doors of him being shut up: and. Lord! the number of houses visited, which this day I observed through the town, quite round in my way, by Long Lane and London Wall. July 13th. By water at night late to Sir G. Car- teret's, but there being no oars to carry me, I was fain to call a sculler that had a gentleman already in it, and he proved a man of love to music, and he and 1 sung together the way down with great pleasure. Above 700 died of the plague this week. July iSth. I was much troubled this day to hear at Westminster how the officers do bury the dead in the open Tuttle fields, pretending want of room elsewhere ; whereas the New Chapel church-yard was walled in at the public charge in the last plague time, merely for want of room ; and now none, but such as are able to pay dear for it can be buried there. July 29th. L^p betimes, and, after viewing some of my wife's pictures, which now she is come to do very finely, to the office. At noon to dinner, where I hear that my Will is come in thither, and laid down upon my bed, ill of the head- ache, which put me into extraordinary fear ; and I studied all I could to get him out of the house, and set my peo- ple to work to do it without discour- aging him, and myself went forth to the Old Exchange to pay my fair Bate- lier for some linen, and took leave of her, they breaking up shop. July 30th. (Lord's day.) Up, and in my night- gown, cap, and neck-cloth, undressed all day long — lost not a minute, but in my chamber, setting my Tangier ac- counts to rights. Will is very well again. It was a sad noise to hear our bell to toll and ring so often to-day, either for deaths or burials, I think, five or six times, Aug. 3rd. ... By-and-by met my Lord Crewe returning; Mr. Marr telling me by the way how a maid-servant of Mr. John Wright's, who lives thereabouts, falling sick of the plague, she was removed to an out-house, and a nurse appointed to look to her ; who being once absent the maid got out of the house at the win- dow and ran away. The nurse coming and knocking, and having no answer, believed she was dead, and went and 126 The Plague of London told Mr. Wright so, who and his hidy were in a great strait what to do to get her buried. At hist resolved to go to Brentwood, hard by, being in the par- ish, and there get people to do it. But they would not ; so he went home full of trouble, and in the way met the wench walking over the common, which frightened him worse than before, and was forced to send people to take her, which he did, and they got one of the pest-coaches, and put her into it to carry her to a pest-house. And passing in a narrow lane. Sir Anthony Browne, with his brother and some friends in the coach, met this coach with the curtains drawn close. The brother being a young man, and believing there might be some lady in it that would not be seen, and the way being narrow, he thrust his head out of his own into her coach and to look, and there saw somebody looking very ill, and in a silk dress, and stunk mightily, which the coachman also cried out upon. And presently they came up to some people that stood looking after it, and told our gallants that it was a maid of Mr. Wright's carried away sick of the plague ; w^iich put the young gentleman into a fright had almost cost him his life, but is now well again. August loth. The people die so that now it seems they are fain to carry the dead to be buried by daylight, the nights not suffic- ing to do it in. And my Lord Mayor commands people to be within at nine at night all, as they say, that the sick may have liberty to go abroad for air. There is also one dead out of one of our ships at Deptford, which troubles us mightily — the Providence^ fire-ship, which was just fitted to go to sea; but they tell me to-day no more sick on board. And this day, W. Bod- ham tells me that one is dead at Wool- wich, not far from the rope-yard. I am told, too, that a wife of one of the grooms at Court is dead at Salisbury. August 15. It was dark before I could get home, and so land at Church-yard stairs, where, to my great trouble, I met a dead corpse of the plague, in the nar- row alley, just bringing down a little pair of stairs. But I thank God I was not much disturbed at it. However, I shall beware of being late abroad asfain. 3. Letter of John Sturgeon to Sir Robert Harley, (In 14th report of ]Ms. Commission. Appendix. Lond. 1S94.) August 19, 1665. (I and all mv children are in good health notwithstanding that the plague is round about us.) Six deving the very nex wale to us. Heare are the frequent alarums of death. Heai-e is nothing but groaning and crying and dying. Carts are the beeres, wide pits are the graves. The carkasses of the dead may say with the sons of the prophets ' Behould the plase where we lye is to strait for us,' for they are not allowed to lye single in thare earthen beds but are pyled up like fagots in a stack for the society of thare future resurrection. Heare you may mett on pale ghost muffled up under the throat, another dragging his legs after him by reason of the tumor of his groyne, an- other bespotted with the tokens of in- stant death, and yet the greatest plage of all is few consider the reason why we are plaged. 3. Extracts from Pepys's Diary. Aug. 20th. After church, to my inn, and ate and drank, and so about seven o'clock by water, and got, between nine and ten, The Plague of London 127 to Qiieenhithe, very dark ; and I could not get my waterman to go elsewhere for fear of the plague. Thence with a lantern, in great fear of meeting of dead corpses carrying to be buried ; but, blessed be God I met none. Aug. 22nd. Up, and being importuned by my wife and her two maids, which are both good wenches, for me to buv a necklace of pearl for her, and I prom- ising to give her one of £60 in two years at furthest, and less if she pleases me in her painting. I went away and walked to Greenwich, in my way see- ing a cofHn with a dead body therein, dead of the plague, Uing in an open close belonging to Coome farm, which was carried out last night, and the parish have not appointed anybody to bury it ; but only set a watch there all day and night, that nobody should go thither or come thence : this disease making us more cruel to one another than we are to dogs. Walked to Red- riffe, troubled to go through the little lane, where the plague is, but did, and took water and home, where all well. Aug. 25th. This day I am told that Dr. Burnett, my physician, is this morning dead of the plague, which is strange, his man dying so long ago, and his house this month open again. Now himself dead. Poor, unfortunate man ! Aug. 30th. I went forth and walked towards Moorfields to see, God forgive my pre- sumption ! whether I could see any dead corpse going to the grave ; but, as God would have it, did not. But Lord ! how everybody's looks and discourse in the street is of death, and nothing else; and few people going up and down, that the town is like a place dis- tressed and forsaken. Sept. 3rd. (Lord's day.) Up, and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was in Westminster when I bought it ; and it is a wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any hair for fear of the infection, that it had been cut off the heads of peo pie dead of the plague. My Lord Brouncker, Sir J, Minnes, and I, up to the Vestry at the desire of the Jus- tices of the Peace, in order to the doing something for the keeping of the plague from growing ; but. Lord ! to consider the madness of people of the town, who will, because they are forbid, come in crowds along with the dead corpses to see them buried ; but we agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof. Sept. 6th. To London to pack up more things ; and there I saw fires burning in the street, as it is through the whole City, by the Lord Mayor's order. Thence by water to the Duke of Albemarle's: all the way fires on each side of the Thames, and strange to see in broad daylight two or three liurials upon the bankside, one at the very heels of an- other : doubtless, all of the plague ; and yet at least forty or fifty people going along with every one of them. Sept. 7th. To the Towner, and there sent for the weekly bill, and find 8,252 dead in all, and of them 6,978 of the plague ; which is a most dreadful number, and shows reasons to fear that the plague hath got that hold that it will yet continue among us. Sept. 15th. With Captain Cocke, and there drank a cup of good drink, which I am fain to allow myself during this plague 128 The Plague of London time, by advice of all, and not con- trary to my oath, my physician being dead, and chirurgeon out of the way, whose advice I am obliged to take. In much pain to think what I shall do this winter time ; for going every day to Woolwich I cannot, without endan- gering my life ; and staying from my wife at Greenwich is not handsome. 4. Letter of J. Tillison to Dr. San- croft. (In Ellis, Original Letters. Sec- ond Series, Vol. IV. London, 1829.) September 14, 1665. Reverend Sir : ... We are in good hopes that God in his mercy will put a stop to this sad calamity of sickness ; but the desolation of the city is very great. That heart is either steel or stone that will not lament this sad visi- tation, and will not bleed for those un- utterable sorrows. It is time, God knows, that one woe courts another ; those that are sick are in extreme sorrow ; the poor are in need ; those that are in health are in fear of infection on the one side, and the wicked inventions of hellish rebel- lious spirits do put us in an uproar on the other side. What eye would not weep to see so many habitations uninhabited ; the poor sick not visited ; the hungry not fed ; tlie grave not satisfied ! Death stares us continually in the face in every in- fected person that passeth by us ; in every coffin which is daily and hourly carried along the streets. The bells never cease to put us in mind of our mortality. The custom was, in the beginning, to bury the dead in the night only; now, both night and day will hardly be time enough to do it. For the last week, mortality did too apparently evidence that, that the dead was piled in heaps above ground for some hours together, before either time could be gained or place to bury them in. The Quakers (as w^e are informed) have buried in their piece of ground a thousand for some weeks together last past. Many are dead in Ludgate, Newgate and Christ Church Hospital, and many other places about the town which are not included in the bill of mortality. The disease itself (as is acknowledged by our practitioners in physic) was more favorable in the beginning of the contagion ; now more fierce and violent ; and they themselves do likewise confess to stand amazed to meet with so many various symptons which they find amongst their patients. One week the general distempers are botches and boils ; the next week as clear-skinned as may be ; but death spares neither. One week, full of spots and tokens; and perhaps the succeeding, none at all. Now taken with vomiting and loose- ness, and within two or three days al- most a general raging madness. One while patients use to linger four or five days, at other times not forty eight hours; and at this very time we find it more quick than ever it was. Where it has had its fling, there it decreases ; It reigned most heretofore in alleys, etc. now it domineers in the open streets. The poorer sort was most af- flicted ; now the richer bear a share. Captain Colchester is dead. Fleet- ham and all his family are clearly swept away, except one maid. Dr. Burnett, Dr. Glover, and one or two more of the College of Physicians, with Dr. O'Dowd, which was licensed by my Lord's Grace of Canterbury, some sur- geons, apothecaries, and Johnson the chemist, died all very suddenly. Some say (but God forbid that I should re- port it for the truth) that these in a consultation together, if not all, yet The Plague of London 129 the greatest part of them, attempted to open a dead corpse wliich was full of tlie tokens ; and being in hand with the dissected body, some fell down dead immediately, and others did not outlive the next day at noon. All is well and in safety at your house, God be thanked. Upon Tues- day last I made it my day's work to kindle fires in every room of tlie house where I could do it, and aired all the bed clothes and bedding at the fires, and so let them all lie abroad until this morn- ing ; the feather bed in the back cham- ber was almost spoiled with the heavy weight of carpets and other things upon it. I am afraid I have been too tedious, and therefore beg your pardon and take my leave, who am, Reverend Sir, your most faithful humble servant, Jo. TiLLISON. Brimstone, hops, pepper, and frank- incense, etc., I use to fume the rooms with. For yourself. 5. Extracts from Pepys's Diary. Sept. 20th. Up, and after being trimmed, the first time I have been touched by a barber these twelve months, I think, and more, by-and-by Sir J. IVIinnes and Sir W. Batten met, to go into my Lord Brouncker's coach, and so we four to Lambeth, and thence to the Duke of Albemarle, to inform him what we have done as to the fleet, which is very little, and to receive his direction. But, Lord! what a sad time it is to see no boats upon the river; and grass grows all up and down Whitehall court, and nobody but poor wretches in tlie streets ! And which is worst of all, the Duke showed us the number of the plague this week, brought in the last night from the Lord Mayor ; that it is in- creased about 600 more than the last, which is quite contrary to our hopes and expectations, from the coldness of the late season. For the whole general number is 8,297, ^^^^^^ ^^ them the plague 7,165; which is more, in the whole, by above 50, than the biggest bill yet : which is very grievous to us all. I find Sir W. Batten and his lady gone home to Walthamstow, with some necessity, hearing that a maid-servant of theirs is taken ill. Sept. 27th. Up and saw and admired my wife s picture of Our Saviour, now finished, which is very pretty. By water to Greenwich, where to the "King's Head," the great music-house, the first time I was ever there. Much troubled to hear from Creed, that he was told at Salisbury that I am come to be a great swearer and drunkard ; but Lord ! to see how my late little drinking of wine is taken notice of by envious men, to my disadvantage. To Captain Cocke's and he not yet come from town, to Mr. Evelyn, where much company ; and thence in his coach with him to the Duke of Albemarle, by Lambeth, who was in a mighty pleasant humour ; and tells us that the Dutch do stay abroad, and our fleet must go out again, or be ready to do so. Here we got several things ordered, as we desired, for the relief of the prisoners, and sick and wounded men. Here I saw this week s bill of mortality, wherein, blessed be God! tliere is above i,Soo decrease, lieing the first considerable decrease we have had. Most excellent discourse witli Mr. Evel\n touching all manner of learning, wherein I find him a very fine gentleman, and particularly of painting, in which he tells me the beau- tiful Mrs. oSIiddleton is rare, and his own wife docs brave things. I30 The Plague of London Oct. 7th. . . . Talking with him [a constable] in the highway, come close by the bearers with a dead corpse of the plague ; but Lord ! to see what custom is I am almost come to think nothing of it. Oct. 1 6th. I walked to the Tower ; but, Lord ! how empty the streets are, and melan- choly, so many poor sick people in the streets full of sores ; and so many sad stories o\erheard as I walk, everybody talking of this dead, and that man sick, and so many in this place, and so many in that. And they tell me that in Westminster there is never a physician and but one apothecary left, all being dead ; but that there are great hopes of a great decrease this week : God send it ! Nov. 15th. The plague, blessed be God, is de- creased 400, making the whole this week but 1,300 and odd, for which the Lord be praised ! Nov. 24th. To London, and there in my way at my old oyster shop in Gracious Street, bought two barrels of my fine woman of the shop, who is alive after all the plague, which now is the first observa- tion or inquiry we make at London concerning everybody we know. To the 'Change, where very busy with several people, and mightily glad to see the 'Change so full, and hopes of another abatement still the next week. I went home with Sir G. Smith to dinner, sending for one of my barrels of oysters, which were good, though come from Colchester, where the plague hath been so much. Lord I to see how I am treated, that come from so mean a beginning, is matter of wonder to me. But it is (Jod's mercy to me, and his blessing upon my taking pains, and being punctual in my dealings. Visited Mr. Evelyn, where most excellent dis- course with him. Nov. 30th. Great joy we have this week in the weekly bill, it being come to 544 in all, and but 333 of the plague ; so that we are encouraged to get to London soon as we can. And my father writes as great news of joy to them, that he saw York's waggon go again this week to London, and full of passengers : and tells me that my aunt Bell hath been dead of the plague these seven weeks. Dec. 35th (Christmas day). To church in the morning, and there saw a wedding in the church, which I have not seen many a day ; and the young people so merry one with another ! and strange to see what de- light we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our con- dition, every man and woman gazing and smiling at them. Here I saw again my beauty Lethulier. Dec. 31st. Now the plague is abated almost to nothing, and I intending to get to Lon- don as fast as I can. Jan. 5, i66z,-6. I with my Lord Brouncker and Mrs. Williams by coach with four horses to London, to my Lord's house in Covent Garden. But, Lord ! what staring to see a nobleman's coach come to town ! And porters everywhere bow to us ; and such begging of beggars ! And delightful it is to see the town full of people again ; and shops begin to open, though in many places seven or eight together, and more, all shut ; but yet the town is full, compared to what it used to be. I mean the City end : for Covent Garden and Westminster are yet very empty of people, no court nor gentry being there. Home, thinking to get Mrs. Knipp, but could not. The Fire of London ^31 Jan. 30th. Home, finding the town keeping the day solemnly, it being the day of the King's murder; inid they being at church, I presently into the church. This is the first time I have been in the church since I left London for the plague, and it frightened me indeed to go through the church — more than I thought it could have done — to see so many graves lie so high upon the churchyards, where people have been buried of the plague. I was niucli troubled at it, and do not think to go through it again a good while. Feb. I 2th. Comes Mr. Cajsar, my boy's lute- master, w^hom I have not seen since the plague before, but he hath been in Westminster all this while, very well ; and tells me in the height of it how bold people there were, to go in sport to one another's bui-ials ; and in spite, too, ill people would breathe in the faces, out of their windows, of well people going by. 6. Extract from Reresby's Memoii's (p. 167). A dreadful plague raged in London during the summer of 1665, vrhich swept away 97,309 persons. It was usual for people to drop down in the streets as they went about their busi- ness ; and a story is reported for a cer- tain truth, that a bag-piper being ex- cessively overcome with liquor, fell down in the street and there lay asleep. In this condition he was taken up and thrown into a cart betimes the next morning, and carried away with some dead bodies. Meanwhile he awoke from his sleep, it being now about day- break, and rising up began to play a tune, which so surprized the fellows that drove the cart, who could see nothing distinctly, that in a fright they betook themselves to their heels, and would have it that they had taken up the devil in the disguise of a dead man. But, to resume other things, I mar- ried. . . . GROUP XVI. THE FIRE OF LOXDOX, 1666 A. D. Extracts from Pepys' and Evelyn's Diaries. Pcpys. Sept. 3nd (Lord's Day). Some of our maids sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast to-day, Jane called us up about three in the morning to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City ; so I rose and slipped on my nightgown and went to her window, and thought it to be on the back side of Marke Lane at the farthest ; but being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off, and so went to bed again and to sleep. About seven, rose again to chess myself, and there looked out at the window, and saw the fire not so much as it was, and further off. So to my closet to set things to rights after yes- terday's cleaning. By-and-by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that aliove three hundred houses have been burnetl down to-niglit bv the fire we saw, and that it is now Vturning down all Fish Street, by London Bridge. So I made 13 The Fire of London mvself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's little son going up with me, and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge, which, among other people, did trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the bridge. So down, with my heart full of trouble, to the Lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it begun this morning in the King's baker's house in Pudding Lane, and that it hath burned down St. Magnus's Church and most part of Fish Street already. So I down to the water- side, and there got a boat, and through bridge, and there saw a la- mentable fire. Poor jSIichell's house, as far as the Old Swan, already burned that way, and the fire running fiuther, that, in a very little time, it got as far as the Steele-yard while I was there. Everybody endeavouring to remove their goods, and flinging into the river, or bringing them into lighters that lay off ; poor people staying in their houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and then running into boats, or clam- bering from one pair of stairs by the water-side to another. And, amongst other things, the poor pigeons, I per- ceive, were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconies, till they burned their wings and fell down. Having stayed, and in an hour's time seen the fire rage every way, and nobody, to my sight, endeav- ouring to quench it, but to remove their goods, and leave all to the fire, and having seen it get as far as the Steele- yard, and the wind mighty high, and driving it into tlie City : and every- thing, after so long a drought, proving combustible, even the very stones of churches; and, among other things, the poor steeple by which pretty Mrs. lives, and whereof my old school- fellow Elborough is parson, taken fire in the very top, and there burned till it fell down. I to Whitehall, with a gentleman with me, who desired to go off from the Tower to see the fire in my boat, and there up to the King's closet in the chapel, where people came about me, and I did give them an account dismayed them all, and word was carried in to the King. So I was called for, and did tell the King and Duke of York what I saw, and that, unless his Majesty did command houses to be pulled down, nothing could stop the fire. They seemed much troubled, and the King commanded me to go to my Lord Jvlayor from him, and com- mand him to spare no houses, but to pull down before the fire every way. The Duke of York bid me tell him that if he would have any more sol- diers he shall, and so did my Lord Arlington afterwards as a great secret. Hei-e meeting with Captain Cocke, I in his coach, which he lent me, and Creed with me to Paul's; and there walked along Watling Street, as w^ell as I could, every creature coming away laden w'ith goods to save, and here and there sick people carried awav in beds. Extraordinary good goods carried in carts and on backs. At last met my Lord Mayor in Canning Street, like a man spent, with a hankerchcr about his neck. To the King's message he cried like a fainting woman, " Lord ! what can I do? I am spent : people \vill not obey me. I have been pulling down houses, but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it." That he needed no more soldiers, and that, for himself, he must go and refresh himself, having been up all night. So he left me and I him, and walked home, seeing peo- ple almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire. Tlie houses, too, so very thick thereabouts, The Fire of London 133 and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tar in Thames Street ; and ware- houses of oil, and' wines, and brandv. and other things. Here I saw Mr. Isaac Houblon, the handsome man, prettily dressed and dirty at his door at Dowgate, ireceiving some of his brother's things, whose houses were on fire, and, as he 'says, have been re- moved twice already ; and he, doubts, as it soon proved, that there must be in a little time removed from his house also, which was a ' sad consideration. And to see the churches all filling with goods by people who themselves should ' have been quietly theie at this time. By this time it was about twelve o'clock, and so home, and there find my guests, who were Mr. Wood and his wife Barbary Shelden, and also Mr. . Moone, she mighty tine, and her hus- band, for aught 1 see, a likely' man. But Mr. Moone's design and mine, which was to look over my closet, and please him with the sight thereof, which he hath long desired, was wholly disappointed; for we were in great' trouble and disturbance at this fire, not knowing what to think of it. How- ever we had an extraordinary good din- ner, and merry as at this time we could be. While at dinner, Mrs. Batelier came to inquire after Mr. Woolfe and Stanes, who, it seems, are related to them, whose houses in Fish Street are all burned, and they in a sad condition. She would not stay in the fright. Soon as dined, I and Moone away, and walked through the City, the streets full of nothing but people, and horses and carts laden with goods, ready to run over one another, and removing goods from one burned house to • an- other. They now removing out of Canning Street, which received goods in the morning, into Lumbard Street, and further ; and amongst others I now saw my little goldsmith Stokes receiv- ing some friends goods whose house itself was burned the day after. We parted at Paul's, he home and I to Paul's Wharf, where I liad appointed a boat to attend me, and took in Mr. Carcasse and his brother, whom I met in the street, and carried them below and above bridge too. And again to see the fire, which was now got further, both below and above, and no likeli- hood of stopping it. Met with the King and Duke of York in their barge, and with 'them to Qiieenhithe, and there called Sir Richard Browne to them. Their order was only to pull down houses apaces, and so below bridge at the water-side ; but little was or could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. Good hopes there was of stopping it at the "Three Cranes" above, and at Botolph's Wharf below bridge, if care be used ; but the wind carries it into the City, so as we know not, by the water-side, what it do there. River full of lighters and boats, taking in goods, and good goods swimming in the water ; and only I observed that hardly one lighter or boat in three that had the goods of a house in, but there was a pair of virginals in it. Having seen as much as I could now", I away to Whitehall by appointment, and there walked to St. James's Park, and there met my wife and Creed, and Wood and his wife, and walked to my boat ; and there upon the water again, and to the fire up and down, it still increasing and the wind great. So near the fire as we could for smoke ; and all over the Thames, with one's faces in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of fire-drops. This is very true : so as houses were burned by these drops and flakes of fire, three or four, nay, five or six houses, one from another. When we could endure no more upon the w^ater, we to a little ale- house on the banksidc, over against the 134 The Fire of London " Three Cranes," and there stayed till it was dark almo.st, and saw the fire grow ; and as it grew darker appeared more and more ; and in corners and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the City, in a most horrid, malicious, bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. Bar- bary and her husband away before us. We stayed till, it being darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long : it made me weep to see it. The churches, houses, and all on fire, and flaming at once; and a horrid noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses at their ruin. So home with a sad heart, and there find everbody discoursing and lamenting the fire ; and poor Tom Hater came with some few of his goods saved out of his house, which was burned upon Fish Street Hill. I invited him to lie at my house, and did receive his goods, but was deceived in lying there, the news coming every moment of the growth of the fire, so as we were forced to begin to pack up our own goods, and prepare for their re- moval ; and did by moonshine, it being brave, dry, and moonshine and warm weather, carry much of my goods into the garden ; and Mr. Hater and I did remove my money and iron chests into my cellar, as thinking that the safest place. And got my bags of gold into my office ready to carry away, and my chief papers of accounts also there, and my tallies into a box by themselves. So great was our fear that Sir W. Batten hath carts come out of the country to fetch away his goods this night. We did put Mr. Hater, poor man, to bed a little ; but he got but very little rest, so much noise being in my house taking down of goods. Evelyn. Sept. 3rd. I had public prayers at home. The fire continuing, after dinner I took coach with my Wife and Sonn and went to the Bank side in Southwark, w'here we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole citty in dreadfull flames neare the water side ; all the houses from the Bridge, all Thames streete, and upwards towards Cheapeside, downe to the Three Cranes, \vere now con- sum' d ; and so returned exceeding as- tonished what would become of the rest. The fire having continued all this night (if I may c;dl that night which was light as day for 10 miles round about, after a dreadfu'll manner) when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very drie season ; I went on foote to the same place, and saw ye whole south part on ye citty burning from Cheapeside to ye Thames, and all along Cornehill (for it likewise kindled back against ve wind as well as forward), Tower streete, Fen-church streete, Gracious streete, and so along to Bain- ard's Castle, and was now taking hold of St. Paule's church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonish' d, that from the beginning, I know not by what despond- ency or fate, they hardly stirr'd to quench it, so that there was nothing heard or scene but crying out and lam- entation, running about like distracted creatures without at all attempting to save even their goods ; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the churches, public halls. Exchange, hospitals, monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner, from house to house and streete to streete, at greate distances one from ye other; for ye heate with a long set of faire and The Fire of London 135 warm weather had even ignited the aire and prepar'd the materials to conceive the fire, which, devour' d after an in- credible manner houses, furniture, and everything. Here we saw the Thames cover' d with goods floating, all the barges and boates laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on ye other, ye carts, etc. carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewed with moveables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh the miserable and calamitous spectacle ! ' such as happly the world had not scene since the foundation of it, nor be out- don till the universal conflagration there- of. All the skie was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, and the light scene above 40 miles round about for many nights. God grant mine eyes may never behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame ; the noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, ye shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was like an hideous storme, and the aire all about so hot and inflam'd that at the last one w^as not able to approach it, so that they were forc'd to stand still and let ye flames burn on, which they did for neere two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds also of smoke were dismall and reach' d upon compu- tation neer 50 miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoone burning, a re- semblance of Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly call'd to my mind that pas- sage — 7ion enim hie habemns stabilem civitatem ; the mines resembling the picture of Troy. London was, but is no more ! Thus I returned. Pepys. Sept. 3rd. About four o'clock in tlie morniner my Lady Batten sent me a cart to carry away all my money, and plate, and best things, to Sir W. Rider's at Bednall Green, which I did, riding myself in my nightgown, in the cart; and Lord! to see how the streets and the highways are crowded with people running and riding, and getting of carts at any rate to fetch away things. I find Sir W. Rider tired with being called up all night, and receiving things from several friends. His house full of goods, and much of Sir W. Batten's and Sir W. Pen's. I am eased at my heart to have my treasure so well secured. Then home, and with much ado to find a way, nor any sleep all this night to me nor my poor wife. But then all this day she and I and all my people labour- ing to get away the rest of our things, and did get Mr. Tooker to get me a lighter to take them in, and we did carry them, myself some, over Tower Hill, which was by this time full of people's goods, bringing their goods thither : and down to the lighter, which lay at the next quay, above the Tower Dock. And here was my neighbour's wife, Mrs. , with her pretty child, and some few of her things, which I did willingly give way to be saved with mine: but there was no passing with anything through the postern, the crowd was so great. The Duke of York came this day by the office and spoke to us, and did ride with his guard up and down the City to keep all quiet, he being now general, and having the care of all. This day, Mercer being not at home, but against her mistress's order gone to her mother's, and my wife going thither to speak with W. Hewer, beat her there, and was angry, and her mother saying that she was not a 'pren- tice girl, to ask leave every time she goes abroad, my wife with good reason was angry; and, when she came home, did bid her begone again. And so she 136 The Fire of London went away, which troubled me, but yet less than it would, because of the con- dition we are in, in fear of coming in a little time to being less able to keep one in her quality. At night, lay down a little upon a quilt of W. Hewer's in the office, all my own things being packed up or gone ; and after me, my poor wife did the like, we having fed upon the remains of yesterday's dinner, having no fire nor dishes, nor any op- portunity of dressing anything. Evelyn . Sept. 4th. The burning still rages ; and it was now gotten as far as the Inner Temple ; all Fleet streete, the Old Bailey, Lud- gate Hill, Warwick Lane, Newgate, Paules chaine, Watling streete, now flaming, and most of it reduc'd to ashes ; the stones of Paules flew like granados, ye mealting lead running downe the streetes in a streame, and the very pave- ments glowing with fiery rednesse, so as no horse nor man was able to tread on them, and the demolition had stopp'd all the passages, so that no help could be applied. The eastern wind still more impetuously driving the flames forward. Nothing but ye almighty power of God was able to stop them, for vaine was ye help of man. Pepys. Sept. 4th. Up by break of day, to get away the remainder of my things, which I did by a lighter at the Iron gate, and my hands so full, that it was the afternoon before we could get them all away. Sir W. Pen and I to the Tower Street, and there met the fire burning, three or four doors beyond Mr. Howell's, whose goods, poor man, his trays, and dishes, shovels, &c., were flung all along Tower Street in tlie kennels, and people working wherewith from one end to the other, the fire coming on in that narrow street, on both sides, with infinite fury. Sir W. Batten, not knowing how to remove his wine, did dig a pit in his garden, and laid it in there ; and I took the opportunity of laying all the papers of my office that I could not otherwise dispose of. And in the evening Sir W. Pen and I did dig another, and put our wine in it ; and I my Parmesan cheese, as well as my wine and some other things. The Duke of York was at the office this day, at Sir W. Pen's, but I happened not to be within. This afternoon, sitting mel- ancholy with Sir W. Pen in our garden, and thinking of the certain burning of this office, without extraordinary means, I did propose for the sending up of all our workmen from the Woolwich and Deptford yards, none whereof yet ap- peared, and to write to Sir W. Coven- try to have the Duke of York's permis- sion to pull down houses, rather than lose this office, which would much hinder the King's business. So Sir W. Pen went down this night, in order to the sending them up to-morrow morn- ing ; and I wrote to Sir W. Coventry about the business, but received no answer. This night Mrs. Turner, who, poor woman, was removing her goods all this day, good goods, into the gar- den, and knows not how to dispose of them, and her husband supped with my wife and me at night, in the office, upon a shoulder of mutton from the cook's without any napkin, or anything, in a sad manner, but were merry. Only now and then, walking into the garden, saw how horribly the sky looks, all on a fire in the night, was enough to put us out of our wits ; and, indeed, it was extremely dreadful, for it looks just as if it was at us, and the whole heaven on fire. I after supper walked in the dark down Tower Street, and there saw it all on fire, at the Trinitv House on The Fire of London >37 that side, and the Dolphin Tavern on this side, which was very near us, and the fire with extraordinary vehemence. Now begins the practice of blowing up of houses in Tower Street, those next the Tower, which at first did frighten people more than anything ; but it stopped the fire where it w'as done, it bringing down the houses to the ground in the same places they stood, and then it was easy to quench what little fire was in it, though it kindled nothing almost. W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes late home, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye Corner being burned ; so that the fire has got so far that way and to the Old Bailey, and was running f gloves. West- minster Hall being full of people's goods, those in Westminster having re- moved all their goods, and the Ex- chequer money put into vessels to carry to Nonsuch, but to the " Swan," and there was trimmed ; and then to White- hall, but saw nobody, and so home. A sad sight to see how the river looks : no houses nor church near it, to the Temple, where it stopped. At home, did go with Sir W. Batten, and our neighbour Knightly, who, with one more, was the only man of any fashion left in all the neighbourhood thereabouts, they all removing their goods, and leaving their houses to the mercy of the fire. To Sir R. Ford's, and there dined in an earthen platter — a fried breast of mut- ton ; a great many of us, but very merry, and indeed as good a meal, though as ugly a one as ever I had in my life. Thence down to Deptford, and there with great satisfaction landed all my goods at Sir J. Carterets safe, and notliing missed I could see or hear. This being done to my great content, I 140 The Fire of London home, and to Sir W. Batten's, and there with Sir R. Ford, T^Ir. Knightly, and one Withers, a professed lying rogue, supped well, and mighty merry, and our fears over. From them to the office, and there slept with the office full of labourers, who talked, and slept, and walked all night long there. But strange it is to see Cloth-worker's Hall on fire these three days and nights in one body of flame, it being the cellar full of oil. Sept 7. Up by five o'clock, and, blessed be Gud ! find all well, and by water to Pane's wharf. Walked thence, and saw all the town burned, and a miser- able sight of Paul's Church, with all the roofs fallen, and the body of the choir fallen into St. Fayth's ; Paul's scliool also, Ludgate and Fleet Street. My father's house, and the church, and a good part of the Temple the like. So to Creed's lodging, near the new Ex- change, and there find him laid down upon a bed, the house all unfurnished, there being fears of the fire's coming to them. There borrowed a shirt of him and washed. Evelyn. Sept 7th. I went this morning on foote from Whitehall as far as London-Bridge, thro' the late Fleete-streete, Ludgate hill, by St. Panics, Cheapeside, Ex- change, Bishopsgate, Aldersgate, and out to Moorefields, thence thro' Corne- hill, etc., with extraordinary difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish and frequently mistaking where I was. The ground under my feete so hot, that it even burnt the soles of my shoes. In the mean time his ^Majesty got to the Tower by water, to demolish ye houses about the graff, which being built intirely about it, had they taken fire and attack 'd the White Tower where the magazine of powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten downe and destroy' d all ye bridge, but sunke and torne the vessels in ye river, and I'ender'd ye demolition beyond all expression for several miles about the countrey. At my returne I was infinitely con- cern' d to find that goodly Church St. Paules now a sad mine, and that beau- tiful portico (for structure comparable to any in Europe as not long before repair' d by the late King) now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stone split asun- der, and nothing remaining intire but the inscription in the architrave, shew- ing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of it defac'd. It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heate had in a manner calcin'd, so that all ye ornaments, columns, freezes, capitals, and projectures of massie Port- land stone flew off, even to ye very roofe, where a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less than six akers by measure) was totally mealted ; the mines of the vaulted roofe falling broke into St. Faith's, which being fill'd with the magazines of bookes belonging to ye Stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all con- sum' d, burning for a weeke following. It is also observable that the lead of ye altar at ye east end was untouch' d, and among the divers monuments, the body of one Bishop remain' d intire. Thus lay in ashes that most venerable church, one of the most antient pieces of early piety in ye Christian world, besides neere 100 more. The lead, iron worke, bells, plate, etc. mealted ; the exquisitely wrought Mercers Chapell, the sumptuous Exchange, ye august fabriq of Christ Church, all j-e rest of the Companies Halls, splendid build- ings, arches, enterics, all in dust ; the fountaines dried up and ruin'd, whilst The Fire of London 141 the very waters remain'd boiling; the voragos of subterranean ceUars, wells, and dungeons, fornierlv warehouses, still burning in stench and dark clovvds of smoke, so that in five or six miles traversing about, I did not see one loade of timber unconsum'd, nor many stones but what were calcin'd white as snow. The people who now walk'd about ye mines appear' d like men in some dismal desert, or rather in some greate citty laid waste by a cruel enemy ; to which was added the stench that came from some poore creatures bodies, beds, and other combustible goods. Sir Tho. Gresham's statue, tho' fallen from its nich in the Royal Exchange, i-emain'd intire, when all those of ye Kings since ye Conquest were broken to pieces ; also the stand- ard in Cornehill, and Q. Elizabeth's efhgies, with some armes on Ludgate, continued with but little detriment, whilst the vast yron chaines of the Citty streetes, hinges, barrs and gates of prisons were many of them mealted and reduced to cinders by ye vehement heate. Nor was I yet able to pass through any of the narrower streetes, but kept the widest ; the ground and air, smoake and fiery vapour, continu'd so intense that my haire was almost sing'd, and my feete unsufferably sur- bated. The bye lanes and narrower streetes were quite fill'd up with rub- bish, nor could one have possibly knowne where he was, but by ye mines of some Church or Hall, that had some remarkable tower or pinnacle remaining. I then went towards Is- lington and Highgate, w'here one might have seen 200,000 people of all ranks and degrees dispers'd and lying along by their heapes of what they could save from the fire, deploring their losse, and tho' ready to perish for hun- ger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for reliefe, which to me appear' d a stranger sight than any I had yet beheld. His Majesty and Council indeede tooke all imaginable care for their reliefe by proclamation for the country to come in and refresh them with provisions. In ye midst of all this calamity and confusion, there was, I know not how, an alarme liegun that the French and Dutch, w'ith whom we were now in hostility, were not onely landed, but even entering the Citty. There was in truth some days before great suspicion of those two nations joyning ; and now, that they had ben the occasion of firing the towne. This report did so terrific, that on a suddaine there was such an uproare and tumult that they ran from their goods, and taking what weapons they could come at, they covdd not be stopp'd from fall- ing on some of those nations whom they casually met, without sense or reason. The clamor and peril grew so excessive that it made tlie whole Court amaz'd, and they did with infinite paines and greate difficulty reduce and appease the people, sending troops of soldiers and guards to cause them to retire into ye fields againe, where they were watch' d all this night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home suf- ficiently weary and broken. Their spirits thus a little calmed, and the affright abated, they now began to repaire into ye suburbs about the Citty, where such as had friends or oppor- tunity got shelter for the present, to which his Ma^y'^ proclamation also in- vited them. Still ye plague continuing in our parish, I could not without danger adventure to our church. Reresby. Many were the conjectures of the cause of this fire ; some said it was done by the French, others by the Papists ; but it was certainly mere acci- 142 The Court of Charles II. dent. But, however it happened, the dreadful effects of it were not so strange as the rebuilding was of this great city, which, by reason of the King's and Par- liament's care (then sitting), and the great wealth and opulency of the city itself, was rebuilt most stately with brick (the greatest part being before nothing but lath and lime) in four or five vears' time. GROUP XVII. THE COURT OF CHARLES II. I . Extracts from the Diaries of Pepys and Evelyn. Pepys. August 31, 1 66 1. At Court things are in very ill condi- tion, there being so much emulation, poverty, and the vices of drinking, swearing, etc., that I know not what will be the end of it, but confusion. And the clergy so high, that all the people that I meet with do protest against their practice. In short, I see no content or satisfaction anywhei^e in any one sort of people. The Benevo- lence proves so little, and an occasion of so much discontent everywhere that it had better had it never been set up. I think to subscribe twenty pound. Evelyn. Jan. 6th, 1661-2, This evening according to costome, his Majesty opened the revells of that night by throwing the dice himself in the privy chamber, where was a table set on purpose, and lost his £100. (The yeare before he won 1500/.) The ladies also plaied very deepe. I came away when the Duke of Ormond had won about 1000/, and left them still at passage, cards, etc. At other tables, both there and at ye Groom- porter's, observing the wicked folly and monstrous excesse of passion amongst some loosers ; sorry am I that such a wretched costome as play to that excesse should be countenanc'd in a court which ought to be an example of virtue to the rest of the kingdome. Pepys. May 15, 1662. To Westminster ; and at the Privy Seal I saw Mr. Coventry's seal for his being Commissioner with us. At night, all the bells of the town rung, and bon- fires made for the joy of the Qiieen's arrival, who landed at Portsmouth last night. But I do not see much true joy, but only an indifferent one, in the hearts of the people, who are much dis- contented at the pride and luxury of the Court, and running in debt. Evelyn. May 30th, 1662. The Qiieene arrived with a traine of Portuguese ladies in their monstrous fardingals or guard-infantas, their com- plexions olivader and sufficiently un- agreeable. Her Majesty in the same habit, her foretop long and turn'd aside very strangely. She was yet of the handsomest countenance of all ye rest, and tho' low of stature prettily shaped, languishing and excellent eyes, her teeth wronging her mouth by sticking a little too far out ; for the rest lovely enough. Pep vs. May 31st, 1662. The Qiieen is brought a few days since to Hampton Court : and all people say of her to be a very fine and hand- some lady, and very discreet ; and that the King is pleased enough with her : which, I fear, will put Madam Castle- maine's nose out of joint. The court is wholly now at Hampton. CATHAPIATA D^G. maQucc hntanniaiTmmK^fitHih&ttutrvnmd ■!.:,■ I' I. Q. /r Hilhn.. rw»w*- The Court of Charles II. 143 June 30th. This I take to be as bad a juncture as ever I observed. The King and his new Queen minding their pleasures at Hampton Court. All people discon- tented ; some that the King do not gratify them enough, and the others, fanatics of all sorts, that the King do take away their liberty of conscience ; and the height of the bishops, who I fear will ruin all again. They do much cry up the manner of Sir H. Vane's death, and he deserves it. Much clamour against the chimney money, and the people say thtx will not pay it without force. And in the meantime like to have war abroad, and Portugal to assist when we have not money to pay for any ordinary layings-out at home. 3. Letter of Thomas Brown to M. de A. at Paris. (In the Compleat Works of Mr. Thomas Brown. London, 17 10.) . . . We likewise went to see Hamp- ton-Court, where the Court is at pres- ent, and which is the Fountainbleau of England. We had the honour of see- ing their Majesties there. The young Qiieen is low, and of a brown com- plexion ; and by her face, 'tis easy to discover that she has a great deal of goodness and sweetness in her nature. She has brought some four or five Portuguese ladies with her, that are the most deform' d, ill-look' d Devils, that ever bore the name of women. When a man sees them among the English maids of Honour, that attend her, he would be apt to swear, that Heaven and Hell were jumbled together and that angels and furies were lately recon- ciled to one another. But this is not all the trumpery which the Qiieen has brought with her out of her own country ; for her Majesty has a consort, as 'tis called, of Citterns, Harps and the Lord knows what instruments, that make the most wretched harmon}^ that ever was heard. Going to hear mass, we were obliged to suffer this vile per- secution ; and though I have none of the nicest ears, I never heard such hid- eous musick since I was born. As for Hampton-Court, 'tis a magnificent pile of buildings, but, upon my word, does not come up either to our St. Germains or Fountainbleau, no more than White- hall is to be put in the same scale with the Louvre or St. James's House with Luxemburgh Palace. When I was shewn that dismal place where the late King had his head cut off, I could not forbear to pour out a thousand impre- cations against this rebellious nation ; and was infinitely pleas' d to see the City Gates, and other eminent places, adorned with the heads and limbs of those execrable regicides. Cromwell's head, of accursed memory, was, very much to my satisfaction, placed over Westminster Hall. I wish that the publick examples of these criminals may deter all rebels for the future and secure the peace and dignity of the British throne, which has hardly re- cover' d the terrible shock it receiv'd in the late calamitous disorders, . . . Our pockets have been most cruelly emptied since we have been here ; for shilling is the word upon every occasion. . . . Methinks they talk of nothing but shilling, shilling, shilling everlast- ingly. . . . 3, Extract from '^ The Secret History of the Reign of Charles XL by a Member of his Privy Council." (London, 1793.) . . . Their majesties came together to Hampton-court on the 39th of May, the King's birthday, and just two years after his triumphal entrance into London. Whatever testimonies of public joy 144 The Court of Charles II. were given on this occasion, yet in a short time there appeared not that serenity at conrt which was expected. There was a lady of youth and beauty with whom the King had lived in great and notorious familiarity [Lady Castel- maine] . . . When the queen came to Hampton- court, she brought with her a formed resolution that she would never suffer the lady, who was so much spoken of, to be in her presence. The King was determined on the very re- verse ; and, in a day or two, led the lady himself into her Majesty's chamber, and presented her to the queen, who received her with the same grace as she had done the rest, there being many lords and other ladies at the same time there. But whether her majesty in the instant knew wdio she was, or upon recollection found it out afterwards, she no sooner sat down in her chair than her colour changed, tears gushed out of her eyes, her nose bled, and she fainted, so that she was forthwith removed into another room, and all the company withdrew. Though these were the natural work- ings of flesh and blood in a young and jealous wife, the king was so enraged, that, from that moment he treated the queen even in public with the utmost indifference and indignity, till her spirit being at length broken by such cruelty, and the firmness of her mind exhausted in useless struggles, she sunk into the opposite extreme of condescension and meanness. She not only admitted the lady to be of her bedchamber, and used her kindly in private, but was familiar and merry with her in public, so that her majesty forfeited all the compassion before felt for tlie barbarity of the af- fronts she underwent; and the king's indifference was now changed into a settled contempt. . . . The lady had apartments assigned licr at court ; his majesty spent most of his time in her company. 4. Extracts from Evelyn and Pepys. Evelyn . August 14th, 1662. This afternoone the Queene mother [Henrietta Maria] with the Earle of St. Albans and many greate ladies and persons, was pleas' d to honor my poore villa with her presence, and to accept of a collation. She was exceedingly pleas' d and stay'd till very late in the evening. August 23rd. I was spectator of the most magnifi- cent triumph that ever floated on the Thames, considering the innumerable boates and vessells, dress' d and adorned with all imaginable pomp, but above all the thrones, arches, pageants, and other representations, stately barges of the Lord Maior and companies, with various inventions, musiq and peales of ordnance both from ye vessells and the shore, going to meete aiul conduct the new Qiieene from Hampton Court to White-hall, at the first time ot her coming to town. In my opinion it far exceeded all ye Venetian Bucentoras, etc., on the Ascension, when the}'^ go to espouse the Adriatic. His Majcstie and the Qiieene came in an antiq-shap'd open vessell, cover' d with a state or canopy of cloth of gold, made in form of a cupola, supported with high Cor- inthian pillars, wreath' d with flowers, festoons and garlands. I was in our new-built vessell, sailing amongst them. Pepys. Oct. 19th, 1662 (Lord's-day). Put on my first new lace-band ; and so neat it is, that I am resolved my great expense shall be lace- bands, and it will set off anything else the more. 1 am sorry to hear that the news of the sclHng of Dunkirk is taken so gener- ally ill, as I find it is among the mer- The Court of Charles II. 145 chants; and other things, as removal of officers at Court, good for worse ; and all things else made much worse in their report among people than they are. And this night, I know not upon what ground, the gates of the City ordered to be all shut, and double guards everywhere. Indeed I do find everybody's spirit very full of trouble: and the things of the Court and Coun- cil very ill taken ; so as to be apt to appear in bad colours, if there should ever be a beginning of trouble, which God forbid ! Dec. 25th. . . . Bishop Morley preached upon the song of the angels, "Glory to God on high, on earth, peace and good will towards men." Methought he made but a poor sermon, but long, and repre- hending the common jollity of the Court for the true joy that shall and ought to be on these days. Particular- ised concerning their excess in plays and gaming, saying that he whose office it is to keep the gamesters in order and within bounds, serves but for a second rather in a duel, meaning the groom- porter. Upon which it was worth observing how far they are come from taking the reprehensions of a bishop seriously, that they all laugh in the chapel when he reflected on their ill actions and courses. He did much press us to joy in these public days of joy, and to hospitality. But one that stood by whispered in my ear that the Bishop do not spend one groat to the poor himself. The sermon done, a good anthem followed with viols, and the King came down to receive the Sacrament. Feb. 23rd, 1663. This day I was told that my Lady Castlemaine hath all the King's Christ- mas presents made him by the peers given to her, which is a most abomin- able thing ; and that at the great ball she was much richer in jewels than the Qiieen and Duchess put both together. Nov. 26, 1663. To Paul's Churchyard, and there looked upon the second part of " Hudi- bras," which I buy not, but borrow to read, to see if it be as good as the first, which the world cried so mightily up, though it hath not a good liking in me, though I had tried but twice or three times reading to bring myself to think it witty. To-day, for certain, I am told how in Holland publicly they have pictured our King with reproach : one way is with his pockets turned the wrong side outward, hanging out empty ; another with two courtiers picking of his pockets; and a third, leading of two ladies, while others abuse him ; which amounts to great contempt. 29th (Lord's day). This morning I put on my best black cloth suit, trimmed with scarlet ribbon, very neat, with my cloak lined with velvet, and a new beaver, which al- together is very noble, whh my black silk knit canons I bousfht a month as^o. April iSth, 1664. To Hyde Park, where I have not been since last year, where I saw the King with his periwig, but not altered at all ; and my Lady Castlemaine in a coach by herself, in yellow satin and a pinner on, and many brave persons. And myself, being in a hackney and full of people, was ashamed to be seen by the world, many of them knowing me. May 31st, 1664. ... I was told to-day that, upon Sunday night last, being the King's birthday, the King was at my Lady 146 The Court of Charles II. Castlemaine's lodgings, over the hither- gate at Lambert's lodgings, dancing with fiddlers all night almost ; and all the world coming by taking notice of it. October 26th, 1664. At Woolwich ; I there up to the King and Duke. Here I stayed above with them while the ship was launched, which was done with great success ; and the King did very much like the ship, saying, she had the best bow that ever he saw. But, Lord ! the sorry talk and discourse among the great courtiers round about him, without any reverence in the world, but with so much disorder. By-and-by the Qiieen comes and her maids of honour ; one whereof, Mrs. Boynton, and the Duch- ess of Buckingham had been very sick coming by water in the barge, the water being very rough ; but what silly sport they made with them in verv common terms, methought was very poor, and below what people think these great people say and do. April 7, 1665. Sir Philip Warwick did show me nakedly the King's condition for money for the Navy ; and he assures me, unless the King can get some noblemen or rich money-gentlemen to lend him money, or to get the City to do it, it is impossible to find money; we having already, as he says, spent one year's share of the three-years' tax, which comes to £2,500,000. 5. Letters from D. de Repas to Sir Robert Harley. (In Ms, Commission Report, 14 Appendix.) Oxford (?) Oct. 19, 1665. [Shades of Bocaccio ! Three days before, as we have seen, Pepvs wrote in his diary "I walked to the Tower; but Lord I how empty the streets are, and melancholy, so many poor sick people in the streets full of sores ; and so many sad stories overheard as I walk, everybody talking of this dead, and that man sick, and so many in this place, and so many in that." — Ed.] . . . For news from coint I shall tell you that one cannot possibly know a woman from a man, unlesse one hath the eyes of a linx who can see through a wall, for by the face and garbe they are like men. They do not wear any hood but only men's perwick hatts and coats. There is no other plague here but the infection of love ; no other dis- course but of ballets, dance, and fine clouse ; no other emulation but who shall look the handsomere, and whose Vermillion and Spanish white is the best ; none other fight than for ' I am yours.' In a word there is nothing here but mirth, and there is a talk that there shall be a proclamacon made that any melancoly man or woman coming in this towne shall be turned out and put to the pillory, and there to be whep till he hath learned the way to be mary a la mode. Oxford, Nov. 24th. The Duck of Monmouth gave last night a great balle to the Qiieene and to all the ladys of the Court, but very privattly. . . . Yet I was there from the beginning to the last amongst all the nobility and the beautys. I came there by the wheels of fortune. There was above 4 or 500 people at the doore, but none could gett in. They did begin to dance about eight of the clock att night. The Qiieene came half an houre after and went awaye at eleven. The rest did dance till between one and two. The Qiiccn [did] dance all the while she was there with an extraordinary great modestye. They did dance altogether contrey dances, and did junipe and leape as those creatures which live upon vour moiuitaines. They were eleven or twelve ladvs and as manv courtiers. The Court of Charles II 147 Mrs. Stuard was there, who was extra- ordinary mary. After dancing she did sing four or five French songs, as well as ever I heard anv woman sing. 6. Extracts from Pepys and Evelyn. Pepys. Jan. 29th, 1666. Mr. Evelyn and I into my Lord Brouncker's coach, and rode together, with excellent discourse till we come to Clapham, talking of the vanity and vices of the Court, which makes it a most contemptible thing ; and, indeed, in all his discourse, I find him a most worthy person. April 15th, 1666. (Lord's Day.) Walked into the Park, to the Queen's Chapel, and there heard a good deal of their mass, and some of their music, which is not so contemptible, I think, as our people would make it ; it pleasing me very well, and, indeed, better than the anthem I heard afterwards at White- hall, at my coming back. I stayed till the King went down to receive the sac- rament, and stood in his closet with a great many others, and there saw him receive it, which I never did see the manner of before. But I do see very little difference between the degree of the ceremonies used by our people in the administration thereof, and that in the Roman Church, saving .that, me- thought, our chapel was not so fine. July 7th, 1666. Creed tells me he finds all things mighty dull at Court [after the Plague and Fire], and that they now begin to lie long in bed ; it being, as we suppose, not seemly for them to be found playing and gaming as they used to be ; nor that their minds are at ease enough to follow those sports, and yet not know- ing how to employ themselves ; though there be work enough for their thoughts and councils and pains, they keep long in bed. But he thinks with me, that there is nothing in the world can help us but the King's personal looking after his business and his officers, and that with that we may yet do well, but otherwise must be undone ; nobody at this day taking care of anything, nor hath anvbody to call him to account for it. July 31st. The Court empty, the King being gone to Tunbridge, and the Duke of York a-hunting. I had some discourse with Povy, who is mightily discon- tented, I find, about his disappointments at Court ;■ and says, of all places, if there be hell, it is here; no faith, no truth, no love, nor any agreement between man and wife, nor friends. He would have spoke broader, but I put it off to another time ; and so parted. Sept. 36, 1666. . . . He [Mr. Evelyn] observes that none of the nobility come out of the country at all, to help the King, or com- fort him, or prevent commotions at this fire, but do as if the King were nobody, nor ne'er a priest comes to give the King and Court good counsel, or to comfort the poor people that suffer : but all is dead, nothing of good in any of their minds. He bemoans it, and says he fears more ruin hangs over our heads. Evely7i. Oct. 10, 1666. This day was order' d a generall fast thro' the Nation, to humble us on ye late dreadfull conflagration, added to the plague and war, the most dismall judgments that could be inflicted, but which indeed we highly deserv'd for our prodigious ingratitude, burning lusts, dissolute court, profane and abominable lives. 148 The Court of Charles II. Pepys. Oct. 15th, 1666. This day the King begins to put on his vest, and I did see several persons of the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers, who are in it ; being a long cassock close to the body of black cloth, and pinked with white silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with black riband like a pigeon's leg; and, upon the whole, I wish the King may keep it, for it is a veiy fine and handsome garment. Oct. 17th, 1666. The Court is all full of vests, only my Lord St. Albans not pinked, but plain black ; and they say the King says the pinking upon whites makes them look too much like magpies, and, therefore, hath bespoken one of plain velvet. Evelyn. Oct. iSth, 1666. To Court. It being ye first time his Majesty put himself solemnly into the Eastern fashion of vest, changeing doublet, stiff collar, bands and cloake, into a comely dress, after ye Persian mode, with girdle or straps, and shoe- strings or garters into bouckles, of which some were set with precious stones, resolving never to alter it, and to leave the French mode, which had had hitherto obtain' d to our great expence and reproch. Upon which divers courtiers and gentlemen gave his Majesty gold by way of wager that he would not persist in this resolution. [As he did not. — Ed.] Jan. iSth, 1666-7. I was present at a magnificent ball or mascjue in tlie theater at court, where their majesties and all the greate lords and ladies daunced, infinitely gallant, the men in their richly embroidered most becoming vests. April 23rd, 1667. ... At ye banquet (of the Knights of the Garter) came in the Qiieene and stood by the King's left hand, but did not sit. Then was the banquetting stuff flung about the room profusely. ... I now staled no longer than this sport began for feare of disorder. The cheere was extraordinary, each knight having 40 dishes to his messe, piled up 5 or 6 high. The roome was hung with ye richest tapessry. June 1 6th, 1670. I went with some friends to ye Bear Garden, where was cock-fighting, dog- fighting, beare and bull-baiting, it being a famous day for all these butch- erly sports, or rather barbarous cruel- ties. The bulls did exceeding well, but the Irish wolfe-dog exceeded, which was a tall greyhound, a stately creature indeede, who beat a cruell mastiff. One of the bulls toss'd a dog full into a lady's lap, as she sate in one of ye boxes at a considerable height from the arena. Two poore dogs were kill'd, and so all ended with the ape on horseback, and I most heartily weary of the rude and dirty pastime, which I had not seene I think, in twenty yeares before. 7. Extracts from the Rutland Cor- respondence. (In I 2th Report of MS. Commission. Appendix, Part V.) Lady Mary Bertie to her niece, KatJieri)ie JVoel, at JExton. November, 1670. I received yours, but haveing not yett been at Court cannott give you a punc- tuall account of the fashions, but upon the Qiieene's Birthday most wore em- braudcred bodys with plaine black skirts of Morella Mohair and Prunella and such stuffs, and the under pettycoatt The Court of Charles II. 149 very richly laced with two or three sorts of lace, so that 50 or 60 pounds but an ordinary price for a petty- cote. . . . Dec. ic, Westminster. I received yours and am very glad to heare you are so merry with the musicke and danceing. I was at Courte the other night where I met withe the Dutchesse of Buckingham, who was very kind to mee and presented mee to kisse the Queene's hand. They weare their gownes as I writ to you before!, but I thinke the fashions of their rib- bans and haire alters according to every bodys fancy, for some ware all small ribban, others brode ribbans, others broad and small mixed and all frowzes of their owen haire. . . . Jan. 2nd. . . . There is letely come out a new play writ by Air. Dreyden who made the Indiaji Emperor. It is caled the Conquest of Grenada. My brother Norreys tooke a box and carryed my Lady Rochester and his mistresse and all us to. . . . Feb. 23rd. ... I was on Munday at Court to see the grane ballett danced. It was so hard to get room that wee were forced to goe by four a clocke, though it did not begin till nine or ten. They were very richly dressed and danced very finely, and shifted their clothes three times. There was also fine musickes and excelent sing some new song made purpose for it. After the ballet was over, several others danced, as the King, and Duke of Yorke, and Duke of Somerset, and Duke of Buckingham. And the Dutchesse of Cleveland was very fine in a riche petticoat and halfe shirte, and a short man's coat very richly laced, a perwig cravatt and a hat : her hat and maske was verv rich." Sir Ed. Harley to Lady Hurley. (In MS. Commission, 14th Report, Appendix.) March 1 1, 1 670-1. . . . Sin every day grows high and impudent ; as we have seen that God would not be worked by hypocrits, as certaynly he will not be defyed by pro- fane atheists. The Lord, I trust, will graciously provide a hiding place for his poor children. 8. Extracts from Evelyn. Oct. 2ist, 1671. Quitting Euston, I lodged this night at New-market, where I found ye jolly blades raceing, dauncing, feasting, and revelling, more resembling a luxurious and abandon' d rout, than a Christian Court. The Duke of Buckingham was now in mighty favour, and had with him that impudent woman the Countess of Shrewsbury, with his band of fidlers, etc. . . . March 12th, 167 1-2. The Treasurer of the Household, Sir Tho. Clifford, hinted to me as a confi- . dent, that his Majesty would shut up the Exchequer., and accoi'dingly his Majesty made use of infinite treasure there, to prepare for an intended rup- ture [with the Dutch] ; but, says he, it will soone be open again and every body satisfied ; for this bold man, who had ben the sole adviser of the King to invade that sacred stock . . . was so over-confident of the successe of this unworthy designe against the Smyrna merchants, as to put his Majesty on an action which not onely lost the hearts of his subjects, and ruined many wid- dows and orphans whose stocks were lent him, but the reputation of his Ex- chequer forever, it being before in such credit, that he might have commanded halfe the wealth of the nation. ISO The Court of Charles II The credit of this bank being thus broken did exceedingly discontent the people, and never did his Majesty's affairs prosper to any purpose after it, for as it did not supply the expence of the meditated war, so it mealted away, I know not how. To this succeeded the King's declaration for an universal tolle-ration ; Papists and swarms of sectaries now boldly shewing them- selves in their public meetings. Oct. 8th, 1672. I tooke leave of my Lady Sunder- land. . . . She made me stay dinner at Leicester House and afterwards sent for Richardson the famous fire-eater. He devour' d brimston on glowing coales before us, chewing and swal- lowing them ; he mealted a beere-glass and eate it quite up ; then taking a live coale on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster, the coal was blown on with bellows till it flam'd and sparkl'd in his mouth, and so remain' d till the oyster gaped and was quite boil'd; then he mealted pitch and wax with sulphur, which he drank downe as it flamed ; I saw it flaming in his mouth a good while. . . . March 29th, 1673. . . . At the sermon coram rcge^ preached by Dr. Sparrow. ... I staied to see whether according to cos- tome the Duke of York received the communion with the King ; but he did not to the amazement of everybody. This being the second yeare he had forborne and put it off, and within a day of the Parliament sitting, who liad lately made so severe an act against ye increase of Poperie, gave exceeding grief and scandal to the whole nation, that tlie hey re of it, and ye son of a martyr for ye Protestant religion, sliould apostatize. What the conse- quence of this will be, God onely knows, and wise men dread. Nov. 5, 1673. This night the youths of the Citty burnt the Pope in effigie, after they had made procession with it in great tri- umph, they being displeas'd at the Duke for altering his religion and marrying an Italian lady [Mary of Modena] . Nov. 15th, 1673. . . . Being her Majesty's birthday, the Court was exceeding splendid in clothes and jewels, to the height of excesse. 9. Letters of Lady Chaworth to her brother, Lord Roos, at Belvoir Castle. (In 1 2th Report of MS. Commission, 5th Appendix, p. 31.) Nov. 2nd, 1676. . . . Mighty bravery in clothes pre- paring for the Qiieen's birthday, es- peicially M'^ Phraser, whose gowne is ermine upon velvet imbroidered with gold and lined with cloth of gold ; 'twill come to 300/., and frights Sir Carr Scroope, who is much in love with her, from marying her, saying his estate will scarce maintaine her in clothes. Nov. 9. Mr. Bernard Howard made one of the greatest and most absolute French feast that ever I saw last Tuesday att Somerset House, and but eleven of us att it ; and the clothes last night at the Qiieene's birth-night ball was infinite rich, espeicially M'^ Phraser, who put downe all for a gowne black velvet imbroydered with all sorts of slips inbost worke of gold and silver and peticote one broad ermine and gold lace all over, yet I doe not approve the fancy of either, though they say [it] cost Soo/. ; but her face and shape must be approved by everybody : the men also very rich. The Court of Charles II. 151 Nov. 23rd. Foi" niewse, the King sup't two nights agoe with Mr. Griffin, etc., and all the jockeys being invited to meet his jVIajestie : and there they have made four matches to be run at Newmarket. . . . M'^ Jennings and her daughter [later duchess of Marlborough. — Ed.], maid of honour to the Dutchesse, have had so great a falling out that they fought ; the young one complained to the Duchess that if her mother was not put out of St. James's, where she had lodgings to sanctuary her from debt, she would run away, so Sir Alleyn Epsley was sent to bid the mother remoove, who answered with all her heart she should never dispute the Duke and Dutchesses commands, but with the grace of God she would take her daughter away with her [intimating in very coarse terms what sort of a place she considered the court]. So, rather than part with her, the mother must stay and all breaches are made up againe. Dec. 13. . . . Here is no niewse but balls and plays and the King having a sledge after the Muscovite fashion that with a fine accoustred horse pulls him round his fine canalls of St. James Parke. Dec. 25. Lady Sussex is not yet gone. . . . She and Madam Mazarin have privately learnt to fence, and went down into St. James Parke the other day with drawne swords under theire night gownes, which they drew out and made severall fine passes with, to the adiiiiration of severall men that was lookers on in the Parke. . . . The Dutchesse [of Yorke] is much delighted with making and throwing of snow-l)alls and pelted the Duke soundly with one the other day and ran away quick into her closet and he after her, but she durst not open the doore. She hath also great pleasure in one of those sledges which they call Trahiias^ and is pulled up and downe the ponds in them every day, as also the King, which are counted dangerous things, and none can drive the horse which draws them about but the Duke of Alonmoutli, Mr. Griffin, and IVIr. Godol- phin, and a fourth whose name I have forgot. . . . M'' Sarah Jennings hath got the better of her mother who is commanded to leave the Court and her daughter in itt, notwithstanding the mother's petition that she might have her girle with her, the girle saying she is a mad woman. . . . Jan. 19, 1676-7. Theire is two niewe plays which are much comended — the Siege of Jerusa- lem by the Emperour Vespasian, and his son Titus's love with Berenice ; the epilogue is much praysed that tells tis not like to please this age to bring them a story of Jerusalem who would more delight in one of Sodome and a vertu- ous w^oman which in this age they promise shan't be scene but on the stage. Edzvard Smith to Lord Roos. Feb. S, 1676-7. . . . His Majesty, whom God pre- serve, went on Munday last to Windsor to see his workemen, and with a design to stay all the weeke there, but on Wednesday night some of his courtiers fell to their cups and drunke away all reason, at last they began to despise art to, and brake into Prince Rupert's Laboratory and dashed his stills and other chymicall instruments in pieces. His Majesty went to bed about 12 aclock, but about 2 or 3 aclock one of Henry Killigrew's men was stabbed in the company in the next chamber to the King. They say he murdered himselfe amongst them because of some distast betwixt his master and him : how it 152 The Court of Charles II. was God knovves : but the Duke ran speedily to His Majesty's bed and drew the curtaine, and said " Sir, will you lye in bed till you have your throat cut?" whereupon His Majesty got up at three aclock in the night and came immedi- ately away to Whitehall. Lady Chaworth to Lord Roos. April I r, 167S. . . . The quarrells of some ladies hath made great talke in the towne and much laughing. M'^ Baker first began with a bitter letter to my Lady Angle- sey, yet concluded, " a lover of her soule."' This highly incenced the lady, and Al'® Baker not forbearing her house upon itt, she threw some things att her to have her goe out of the rome. The other two ladies is Lady Mohun and M'^ Browne, the deare fi-iends, but it is too long for any letter : but in short they were att cards att one M'^ Roberts's lodgings, and one M'® Love being land- lady of the house an exchange woman. Lady Mohun' s pages spit in that M'^ Love's daughter's face, and so the mother would have turned him out of the house, but he ran up to his lady, and so the exchange woman followed him, and the quarrell began between her and the lady with ill-words and candlesticks ; and so the lady petitioned the House upon breach of privilege, and her father brought itt in, Init M'^ Browne, M'^ Roberts and her husband came in against Lady Mohun, and made her the provoker, so the House of Lords threw itt out, and left them to the law. . . . And it entertained the King mightily who was att the House, and desired that he might be judge whether the candlesticke had hurt my Lady Mohun' s knee. I wish it may be some entertainment to your melancholy spleen, which I suspect the chiefe fo- menter of all vour diseases. Extracts jfroni Evelyn. July 15th, 16S3. The public was now in greate con- sternation on the late plot and conspir- acy ; his Majestic very melancholy, and not stirring without double guards ; all the avenues and private dores about White-hall and the Park shut up, few admitted to walke in it. The Papists in the meane time very jocund. . . . The Turks were likewise in hostility against the German Emperor, almost masters of the Upper Hungary, and drawing towards Vienna. On the other side the French King (who 'tis believed brought in the infidels) dis- turbing his Spanish and Dutch neigh- bors, having swallow' d up almost all Flanders, pursuing his ambition of a fifth universal monarch ; and all this blood and disorder in Christendom had evidently its rise from our defections at home, in a wanton peace, minding nothing but luxurie, ambition, and to procure money for our vices. To this add our irreligion and atheism, greate ingratitude, and selfe interest ; the apostacy of some, and the suffering the French to grow so greate, and the Dutch so weake. In a word, we were wanton , madd, and surfeiting with prosperity ; every moment unsettling the old founda- tions, and never constant to anything. The Lord in mercy avert the sad omen, and that we do not provoke him till he beai-e it no longer ! July 25th, 1683. I againe saw Prince George of Den- mark : he had the Danish countenance, blonde, of few words, spake French but ill, seem'd somewhat heavy, but reported to be valiant, and indeede he had bravely rescu'd and brought off his brother the King of Denmark in a battaile against the Swedes, when both these Kings were cngag'd very smartly. The Court of Charles II •53 2Sth. He was married to the Lady Anne at White-hall. Her court and household to be modell'd as the Duke's, her father, had been and they to continue in England. Note of Lord Dartmouth to a Pas- sage in BiirJtct. Prince George of Denmai'k was the most indolent of all mankind, had given great proofs of bravery in his own country, where he was much beloved. King Charles IT told my father he had tried him, drunk and sober, but " God's fish," there was nothing in him. His behaviour at the revolution [i6SS] shewed he could be made a tool of upon occasion ; but King William treated him with the utmost contempt. When Qiieen Anne came to the throne, she shewed him little respect, but expected everybody else should give him more than was his due : but it was soon found out that his interpos- ing was a prejudice in obtaining favours at court. All foreign princes had him in very low esteem. . . . After thirty years living in England he died of eating and drinking, without any man's thinking himself obliged to him : but I have been told that he would sometimes do ill offices, though he never did a good one. II. Extract from Evelyn. Feb. 4th, 16S5. I went to London, hearing his Maj- esty had been the Monday before (Feb. 2. ) surpriz'd in his bed-chamber with an apoplectic fit, so that if . . . . Dr. King . . . had not been present to let him blood . . . his Majesty had certainly died that moment. . . . This rescued his Majesty for the instant, but it was only a short reprieve. He still complained . . , with sometimes epileptic symp- toms . . . for which he was cupp'd, let bloud in both jugulars, had botli vomit and purges . . . which . . . relieved him. . . . They prescribed the famous Jesuits powder; but it made him worse, and some very able doctors who were present did not think it a fever, but the effect of his bleeding and other sharp operations us'd by them about his head. . . . Thursday night . . . thev drew 12 ounces more of blood from him. Extracts from Foi()itai)iJialV s JMcmoirs. (Edinborough, 1S37.) 16S5. . . . His Qiiean, throw sickenesse not being able to come to him, sent to ask his pardon and how he was ; he answered, "ah, poor Lady, many a tyme have I wronged her, but shee never did me wrong." Letter of the French Envoy Bar- illon to Louis XIV. (In Dalrymple's Memoirs. London 1790. Vol. I. Ap- pendix, p. 152.) Feb. iS, 16S5. ... I was five hours in the King's anti-chamber. The Duke of York made me come into the bed-chamber several times, and spoke to me of what was passing without doors, and of the assurances given him from eveiy quar- ter that all was very quiet in the town, and that he should be proclaimed King the moment the King his brother was dead. I went out for some time to go to the Duchess of Portsmouth's apart- ment. I found her overwdielmed with grief. . . . She said to me, "Monsieur the ambassador, I am going to tell you the greatest secret in the w^orld, and my head would be in danger if it was known. The King of England at the bottom of his heart is a Catholic ; but he is surrounded with Protestant bishops, and nobody tells him his condition, or speaks to him of God : I can not with decency enter the room, besides that the 154 The Court of Charles II. Queen is almost constantly there ; the Duke of York thinks of his own affairs. . . . Go and tell him I have conjured you to warn him to think of what can be done to save the King's soul. He commands the room and can turn out whom he will. . . . I returned instantly to find the Duke of York . . . and told him what the Duchess of Portsmouth said to me. He recovered himself as from a deep leth- argy, and said, " You are in the right : there is no time to lose. I will hazard all rather than not do my duty on this occasion." . . . We thought of various expedients. The Duke of York proposed that I should ask leave to speak to the King his brother, to tell him something in secret from your Majesty, and that everybody should go out. I offei-ed to do so; but represented to him, that be- sides the great rumour it would make, there was no likelihood of my being allowed to remain in private with the King of England and himself long enough for what we had to do. At last . . . without any further pre- caution, the Duke of York stooped down to the King his brother's ear, after having ordered that no one should approach. I was in the room, and more than 20 persons at the door, which was open. What the Duke of York said was not heard ; but the King of England said from time to time very loud, Uss, with all my heart. He sometimes made the Duke of York repeat what he said, because he did not easily hear him. This lasted near a quarter of an hour. The Duke of York again went out as if he had gone to the Qiieen, and said to me, " The King has consented that I should bring a priest to him ; but I dare not bring any of the Duchess's: They are too well known : Send and find one quickly." . . . The Earl of Castlemethor went where the Qiieen's priests were, and found amongst them one Hudelston a Scotchman, who saved the King of England after the battle of Worcester, and who by act of Parliament had been excepted from all the laws made against the catholics and against the priests. They put a wig and gown on him to disguise him, and the Earl of Castle- methor conducted him to the door of an apartment that joined by a small step to the King's chamber. The Duke of York . . . sent Chiffins to receive and bring in Mr. Hudelston : Soon after, he said aloud, "The King wills that everybody should retire, except the Earles of Bath and Feversham : " the first was lord of the bed-chamber, and the other was in waiting. The physi- cians went into a closet, the door of which was immediately shut, and Chiffins brought Mr. Hudelston in. The Duke of York, in presenting him, said, " Sire, here is a man who saved your life, and is now come to save your soul." The King answered, " He is welcome." He afterwards confessed himself with great sentiments of devo- tion and repentance. . . . He then received absolution, the communion, and even the extreme unction : All this lasted about three quarters of an hour. In the anti-chamber, every one looked at another ; but nobody said anything but by their eyes and in whispers. The presence of Lord Bath and Lord Fever- sham, who are Protestants, has satisfied the bishops a little; but the Qiieen's women, and the other priests, saw so much going and coming, that I do not think the secret can be long kept. . . . Extract froiu Biir)ict . . . . The King suffered much in- wardly, and said, he was burnt up within ; of which he complained often, but with great decency. He said once, he hoped he should climb up to heaven's The Court of Charles II, 155 gates, which was the only word savour- ing of religion that he was heard to speak. lie gathered all his strength to speak his last words to the Duke. . . . He recommended lady Portsmouth over and over again to him . . . and be- sought the duke, in as melting words as he could fetch out, to be very kind to her and to her son. He recom- mended his other children to him : and concluded, Let not poor Nelly starve; that was Mrs. Gvvynn. But he said nothing of the queen. . . . He continued in the agony till Friday at eleven o'clock, being the sixth of February 16S4-5 ; and then died in the 54th year of his age. . . . There were many very apparent suspi- cions of his being poisoned. . . , Both Lower and Needham two famous physi- cians, told me, they plainly discerned two or three blue spots on the outside of the stomach. Needham called twice to have it opened : but the surgeons seemed not to hear him. . . . They were diverted to look to somewhat else : and when they returned to look upon the stomach, it was carried away : so that it was never viewed. . . . The King's body was indecently neglected. Some parts of his inwards, and some pieces of the fat, were left in the water in which they were washed : ill which were so carelessly looked aftc", that the water being poured out at a scullery hole that went to a drain, in the mouth of which a grate lay, these were seen lying on the grate many days after, llis funeral was very mean. He did not lie in state : no mournings were given : and the expence of it was not equal to what an ordinary nobleman's funeral will rise to. . . . Extract from FoioitanilialV s Memoirs. It was alledged to have been the King's own desire to be so interred : others said, it was unfit to make a pub- lic solemnity, unlesse it had exceeded in splendor Cromw^ell's funeral, which would have been very expensive. These restlesse and lying phanatiques whispered, they did not love his sudden buriall, as if it had looked like foul pi-'y- 13. Extracts from Evelyn. . . . He was a Prince of many vir- tues, and many great imperfections ; debonaire, easy of accesse, not bloudy nor cruel ; his countenance fierce, his voice greate, proper of person, every motion became him ; a lover of the sea, and skilfull in shipping ; not affect- ing other studies, yet he had a labora- tory, and knew of many empyrical medicines, and the easier mechanical mathematics; he lov'd planting and building, and brought in a politer way of living, which pass'd to luxury and intolerable expence. He had a partic- ular talent in telling a story, and face- tious passages, of which he had innu- merable ; this made some buffoons and vitious wretches too presumptuous and familiar, not worthy the favor they abus'd. . . . The history of his reign will certainely be the most wonderfuU for the variety of matter and accidents, above any extant in former ages : the sad tragical death of his father, his banishment and hardships, his miracu- lous restauration, conspiracies against him, parliaments, wars, plagues, fires, comets, revolutions aliroad happening in his time, with a thousand other par- ticulars. ... I can never forget the inexpressible luxury and prophaneness, gaining and all dissoluteness, and as it were total forgetfullness of God (it being Sunday evening) which this day se'ennight I was witnesse of, the King sitting and toving with. . . . Ports- mouth, Cleaveland, and Mazarine, etc., a French boy singing love-songs, in 150 The Court of Charles II. that glorious gallery, whilst about 20 of the greate courtiers and other disso- lute persons \vere at bassett round a large table, a bank of at least 2000 in gold before them, upon which two gentlemen who were with me made re- flexions with astonishment. Six days after was all in the dust. It was en- joyned that those who put on moiun- ing should wear it as for a father, in ye most solemn manner. Extracts from Fountainhall. He was certainly a prince indued with many Royall qualities, and of whom the Divine providence had taken a speciall care by preserving him after Worcester fight in the oak, and bring- ing him miraculously home without a drop of blood shed ; so that the Em- peror of the Turks said, if he were to change his religion, he would choise to worship before any, the King of Brit- tain's God, who had done such wonder- full things for him. . . . He had a naturall mildnesse and command over his anger, which never transported him beyond ane innocent puff and spitting, and was soon over, and yet commanded more deference from his peeple then if he had expressed it more severely, so great respect had all to him. . . . His firmenesse in religion was evi- dent ( I) ; for in his banishment he had great invitations and offers of help to restore him to his crown if he would turne Papist, but he alwayes refused it. 13. Extracts from Welwood's Diary. (Sixth Edition. London, 171S. Page 128.) . . . Thus reigned, and thus dy'd King Charles II., a Prince endowed with all the qualities that might justly have rendered him the delight of mankind and entitled him to the char- acter of one of the greatest genius's that ever sat upon a throne, if he had not sullied those excellent parts with the soft pleasures of ease. . . . His per- son was tall and well made, his consti- tution was vigorous and healthy ; and it is hard to determine, whether he took more pains to preserve it by diet and exercise, or to impair it by excess in his pleasures. . . . His face was com- posed of harsh features, difficult to be trac'd with the pencil, yet in the main it was agreeable ; and he had a noble, majestic mien. In contradiction to all the received rules of physiognomy, he was merciful, good natured, and in the last 24 years of his life, fortunate, if to succeed in most of his designs may be called so. . . . He had read but little, yet had a good taste of learn- ing, and would reason nicely upon most sciences. The mechanicks were one of his peculiar talents, especially the art of building and working of ships ; which nobody understood better, nor, if he had liv'd, would have carried it farther. He had a strong, laconick way of expression, and a gen- teel, easy and polite way of writing : and when he had a mind to lay aside the King, which he often did in select companies of his own, there were a thousand irresistible charms in his con- versation. . . . No age produced a greater master in the art of dissimu- lation, and yet no man was less upon his guard, or sooner deceived in the sincerity of others. . . . He . . . had acquired so great an ascendant over the affections of his people, in spite of all the unhappy measures he had taken, that it may in some sense be said, he died opportunely for England ; since if he had liv'd, it's probable we might in compliance with him have compli- mented ourselves out of all the remains of our liberty, if he had had but a mind to be master of them; which it's but charity to believe he had not, at least immediately before his death. The Court of Charles II, 157 There is one thing more that may help to make up the character of this prince, that in the lines and shape of his face (all but the teeth) he had a great resemblance of the ancient bus- toes and statues we have of the Emperor Tiberius. . . . Extracts from Evelyn. Oct. 2nd, 1685. Having a letter sent me by Mr. Pepys with this expression at the foote of it, "I have something to shew you that I may not have another time," and that I would not fail to dine with him, I accordingly went. After din- ner he . . . told us that being lately alone with his Majesty [Jas. II.] . . . [the] familiar discourse encouraged Mr. Pepys to beg of his Majesty, if he might ask it without offence . . . whether his late Majesty had been reconcil'd to ye church of Rome. . . . The King ingenuously told him that he both was and died a Roman Catholic : ... he bid him follow him into his closet, where opening a cabinet, he shew'd him two papers, containing about a quarter of a sheete, on both sides written, in the late King's owne hand, severall arguments opposite to the doctrine of the Church of England, charging her with heresy, novelty and ye fanaticism of other Protestants, the chief whereof was, I remember, our refusing to acknowledge the primacy and infallibility of the Church of Rome . . . how unlikely our Saviour would leave his church without a visible head and guide to resort to, during his absence. . . . When his Majesty had shewn him these originals, he was pleas' d to lend him the copies of these two papers, attested at the bottome in 4 or 5 lines, under his owne hand. These were the papers I saw and read. This nice and curious passage I thought fit to set downe. ... I was heartily sorry to see all this, tho' it was no other than was to be suspected. . . . The emissariesand instruments of the Church of Rome will never rest till they have crush' d the Church of England. ... I do exceedingly prefer his [present] Majesty's free and ingenuous profes- sion of what his own i^eligion is. . . . May 26th, 1703. This day died Mr. Sam. Pepys, a very worthy, industrious and curious person, . . . He lived at Clapham with his partner Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in a very noble house and sweete place, where he enjoyed the fruite of his labours in greate pros- perity. He was universally belov'd, hospitable, generous, learned in many things, skill' d in music, a very greate cherisher of learned men of whom he had the conversation. His library and collection of other curiosities were of the most considerable, the models of ships especially. . . . Mr. Pepys had been for neere 40 years so much my particular friend, that Mr. Jackson sent me compleat mourning, desiring me to be one to hold up the pall at his magnificent obsequies, but my indisposition hindered me from doing him this last office. 158 Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth GROUP XVIII. THE REBELLION OF ARGYLE AND MONMOUTH, 16S5 A.D. I. Letters of the Duke of York (later James II.) to his son-in-law William of Orange. (In Hist. MSS. Commission, Report 15, Appendix 5, p. 129.) May 1 1, 1679. . . . All things tend towards the lessning of the King's authority, and the new moddell things are put into is the very same that it was in the tyme of the Commonwealth. . . . May 14, Brussels. . . . You see how violently my enemys attaque me, and that Wednes- day last was the day that both Houses were to take into consideration my affairs. What the issue on't will be I expect to here this night, or to-mor- row, and can not now but looke on the monarky ist self (sic) in great danger as well as his Majesty's person, and that not from Papists, but from the Commonwealth party, and some of those who were latly brought into the Councell that gouverne the Duke of Monmouth, and who make a prop- erty of him to ruine our family, and things go on so fast and so violently, and there are so very few left about his IVIajesty that have either will or courage to give good advice to him, that I tremble to think what will happen, for if his Majesty and the House of Lords stick to mc, then one may expect great disorders — nay, a rebellion. If his Majesty and thay shall consent to what the Commons may do against me, I shall then look on his Majesty as lesse then a Duke of Venice, and the monarky and our family absohitely ruin'd and given up. . . . May 17. ... I am informed by my letters thflt nothing will satisfy the Presbite- rians, but the destroying of the mon- arky, and the setting up of a Common- wealth, to which purpose they flatter the Duke of Monmouth, as the only way to bring to passe their ends, and to destroy our family ; and he is so indiscret as to give in to it, and to thinke he can find his account in it ; and as I told you in my last I appre- hend very much for his Majesty's per- sone, from those kind of people, and I can hardly see how he can almost gett out of the ill condition he is in. . . . May 29, Brussels. . . . You know before this what past on Sonday was sennight in the House of Commons [a bill to exclude him from the throne. — Ed.] ; it was the Presbiterians and the Duke of Mon- mouth's friends carried it, and were most violent against me, and now it is plain that these first, I meane the Pres- biterians, designe nothing lesse than the ruine of the monarky and our family. . . . His Majesty appears very reso- liit for me, and exclaims as I can desire at what has past in the House of Commons, and is very much unsat- isfyed with the Duke of Monmouth, and uses all his endeavors to hinder the bill's passing in the House of Commons. I hope this vote of theirs will do there worke for them, for they that pretend to lay aside one for his religion, may as well lay aside another for some fancy or other, but I hope his Majesty will take courage and at last be a king. . . . S. P^at^ 304^ J^*x, i-*f . fl/j //itfl//r/ (/(■ ( //ti/-/i.r jj . Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth 159 June I. . . . Unlesse something very vigor- ous be done within a very fewe days, the monarky is gone. June Sth, I know that he [Charles] is very sensible that if he parts wdth any more of his power, that he is gone. He has yett the fleett, the garrisons, his gards, Irland and Scotland, firme to him, so that if he will yett stand by himself he may yett be a king. . . . July 3rd. . . . As for the affairs in Scotland, that rebellious cm that is up in arms will, I believe, be sone dispersed, they having no considerable men amongst them, but I thinke what may follow upon the Duke of Monmouth's going downe thether may be of ill conse- quence. . . . July 6th. ... I am not all of your mind as to what concerns the meetting of the Parliament, for I can hope for no good from it, but on the contrary all the ill imaginable, and not only to me, but to his Majesty and our whole family, as may apeare by the bill that was read in the House of Commons against me, which was against law, and destroys the very being of the monarky, which, I thank God, yett has had no depend- ancy on Parliaments nor on nothing but God alone, nor ever can and be a monarky ; and I hope his Majesty will be of this mind and never lett this House of Commons sitt againe. If he does he is ruined forever. July 26. ... I believe you have heard, as well as I, that his Majesty has disolved this Parliament and called another to meette in October. I am very glad he has done it. ... I hope it will teach the next better manners, but in case they should follow the foottsteps of that which is now broken, I hope they will be served after the same manner. ... I am not for their using him so insolently as this last did, nor for their meddling with the succession. 2. Letter of Monmouth to the King. (After the discovery of the Rye House Plot.) (In Roberts' Monmouth, p. 157.) Nov. 15, 16S3. You must allow me, sir, still to im- portune you, not without hopes of pre- vailing at last upon your generosity, so as it may get the better of your anger to me. I am half distracted, sir, with the thoughts of having offended you, and the torment it gives me is perhaps greater than your forgiving nature would know how to inflict upon the most criminal offenders. The character I lie imder is too heavy for me to bear, — even death itself w'ould be a relief to me could I have it without the aggravation of leaving the world under your dis- pleasure. I must therefore throw my- self upon your compassion, which, being a virtue so agreeable to your nature, I hope your child, sir, will not be an unfortunate instance of your deny- ing it when 'tis implored. I confess, sir, I have been in fault, misled, and insensibly engaged in things of which the consequence w-as not enough under- stood by me ; yet I can say I never had a criminal thought towards your Maj- esty. Not pretending by that to insist upon an absolute justification of my- self, your Majesty will consider, that whilst I was under the apprehension of great anger and violence against me, it might easily corrupt my judgment, and by seeing things in a wrong light, betray me into very fatal mistakes : but now that I have had time to recollect myself, everything like a fault towards your Majesty appeareth to me in such a reproaching, terrifying shape, that I i6o Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth have a remorse for it, which, could it be seen, I assure myself it would move your compassion to me. I humbly beg, sir, to be admitted to your feet, and to be disposed of as you direct, not only now, but for the remainder of my life : and though my resignation is too full to admit any reserve, your Majesty will permit me to offer to you whether you will let pass anything as a penalty upon me which may lay a stain upon my innocent children? whether you will make me undergo the ignominy of a trial before you will give me your par- don? and of what use or satisfaction can it be to you to forgive me, and yet give me the cruel punishment of hear- ing myself arraigned for treason against such a king and such a father? . . . Neither do I imagine to receive your pardon any otherwise than by the inter- cession of the Duke, whom I acknowl- edge to have offended, and am prepared to submit myself in the humblest man- ner ; and therefore beg your Majesty would direct how I am to apply myself to him. . . . Dear sir, be pleased to revive, by a kind answer, the most miserable, disconsolate creature now living. MOXMOUTII. 3. Letters of James, as Duke of York, to the Marquis of Qiieen^berry. (In 15th Report, 8th Appendix, of Historical Manuscripts Commission. London, 1897.) London, Nov. 24th, 1683. . . . As I had written thus far, I was called for to attend his Majesty downe to the Secretarys where the Duke of Monmouth was come to sur- render himself. He desired to speake to his Majesty and myself alone. He asked the King's pardon as became him, confest himself guilty of the plot in generall, and owned all but tlic know- ing of the designed assasination ; asked me pardon also, and owned his having been faulty to me, and made all the professions man could make. He is now in the custody of a sargent at arms ; and to-morrow morning his Majesty has apointed a meetting to con- sider what to do with him. I have not tyme to sav any more. Dec. I, 16S3. You cannot imagin what a noise and fermentation this affaire of the Duke of Monmouth has made, and how it has encouraged and revived the Whiggs and troubled the Torys ; the former of which according to their wonted cous- toume of lying for the good of the cause, have done and do it most impu- dently now upon this subject, and re- port every where the Duke of JNIon- mouth has not owned the Plot, and that what was in the Monday' s Gazette was false. What incouragement he has given them to talke so, I will not yett take upon me to say, but by my next I may ; and shall now only say I hope good use will be made of the extrava- gance of that rebellious crue. . . . Dec. 6th. ... I see you were all of you sur- prised with the newse of the Duke of Monmouth being at court : at which I do not wonder at, since here it had the same effect, and upon it the Whiggs are growne very insolent, and the more since they see he, the Duke of Mon- mouth, has not behaved himself as he aught, and not owned his knowledg of the conspiracy as he promised his Maj- esty to do. But tho this has done some harme at first, yett now that Algernon Sidney is to be beheadded tomorrow, and some other things will be done, they will not be so high ; and the Duke of Monmouth will only have done him- selfe harme by his behavior, and will satisfy the world he has not deserved such favor from the King as he has had. . . , Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth 16 1 Dec. 8, 16S3. The Duke of ^Vlonmouth's being banished yesterday the court, will, I beleve, be no lesse surprising to you then his corning to it was ; and tho he has gained his point in getting his pardon and keeping his credit with his party, yett I am confident it will have no further ill effect, and will have this good one, of taking away that tender- nesse which moved his Majesty to do what he did in his favor : for now, he, the Duke of Monmouth has satisfyed the world he can never be trusted, and was never a true penitent ; for he would not owne under his hand what he sayd to the King and myself, when he saw us first, and told some of his dependers that what had been put in the Gazette was not true ; which so incensed the King as obliged him to send him out of court. But of this no more at present. Yesterday Algernon Sidney was be- headed ; he died stoutly and like a true republican. I have not time to say- more. Dec. 20. . . . Algernon Sidney's speech is come out in print, and his tryal will I beleve be out this weeke ; by both which you will see what a fine prince- peld man he was, and of the same trampe are all those the Duke of Mon- mouth was to have headed ; and I thinke, 'twas a great mercy he discov- ered himself so sone not to be a true penitent. . . . 4. Extracts from Reresby's Memoirs, p. 92. 16S5. Feb. 9. I [as governor of York] ordered the mail to be brought unopened to my house, so that no letters could be dis- persed till I knew the true state of the King. The letters came not in till four in the morning, and then they gave me an account of my gracious and great master's departure out of this world upon the 7th, at night. I was up ex- pecting the post when it arrived and suffered no letters to go out till I had been with the Lord Mayor and the high sheriff, and had delivered their letters only to themselves, by which they had order, and myself also, from the Privy Council and the Secretary of State, to proceed immediately to proclaim the King, James the Second. So soon as we had prepared all things necessary for this ceremony, which was done before day, I gave leave for the dis- persing of the several letters according to their directions. . . . It was a strange effect of power from above, that so strong a party as had not long before appeared in Parliament to exclude the Duke of York from the crown of his ancestors should submit to his now coming to it with so great deference. . . . That which in a great measure did quiet the minds and appre- hensions of the people was the declara- tion made by King James to the Privy Council immediately after the breath was out of the body of his brother, that he would defend the government of England, both in Church and State, as by law established, that he would fol- low the steps of the late King in kind- ness and lenity towards his people ; and that as he would defend the just rights and prerogatives of the crown, so he would invade no man's property. 5. A letter, writer unknown, to the Rev. Francis Roper. (In Ellis, Original Letters. First Series, V^ol. 11^- P- 333-) . . . About 4 o'clock King James was proclaimed with the usual solem- nity and with great acclamations, together with a decent concern for the loss of so good a Prince. All things were managed with great order and quiett ; and his Maj'tie, at night, in 1 62 Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth Council, made a very gracious decla- ration (which, I suppose, will be in print) wherein he promis'd solemnly to tread exactly in his brother's steps, both as to money and to governing ac- cording to law ; and particularly that he would maintain the Church as now by I^w establish' d. The same decl-a- ration he made to my Lord in private, with solemn protestations : and 'tis his constant discourse, that he will not in the least disturb the established govern- ment of the Church, either by tolera- tion, or any other way whatever. This day the Archbishop and Bishops waited on his Majestie and desired pri- vate audience ; and in the Closett the Archbishop made a very eloquent speech, by way of thanks, in the name of the whole Clergy, for the last night's declaration, as what prevented what otherwise they must have made their earnest prayer and suit to him, to pat- ronize the Church, as his royall brother of blessed memory had all along done : giving him all assurances of loyalty in the Clergy as what he might depend upon, as it is both the doctrine and practice of our Church, beyond any Church in the World. His jSIajestie again repeated what he had before de- clar'd, and said moreover, he would never give any sort of countenance to Dissenters, knowing that it must needs be faction and not religion, if men could not bee content to meet five be- sides their own familie, which the Law dispenses with. Thus to make amends for our great loss, wee are much comforted with the hopes we have of our Church continu- ing in its former flourishing estate. His Majestie has never yet been known to bee worse than his word; and 'tis to be hop'd he will not bee, in so often repeated promises. God contiiuie him in his good resolutions, and make us all live peaceably and happily under him, and that his reign may bee al- wayes answerable to this auspicious beginning. I am Sir, your . . . Extract frovi Foiintainhall. Oia the 33 of Aprill, being St George's day, the King and Quean ware crouned at Westminster. . . . Their ware scattered amongst the pee- ple about 500/. stei ling's worth of coronation medalls, made of purpose, with sundry emblems, one of ane eagle trying hir young ones by the sun etc. It is very far short of the splendor of his Brother's coronation in 1660. . . . It is like it was to shun expence to himselfe and the nobility, whose foi"- tunes are low. . . . By ane act, the King declared that the Qiiean, on hir coronation day, would i^elease all pris- oners for debts within £^ sterling, by paying them, wheirby So were liberat in Newgate. Shee was not crouned with the imperiall croun of the king- dome of England, but by a golden croun, made of purpose, worth 300000/. sterling; the Jewells shee had on liir ware reckoned worth a million, which made her shine like ane angell. All the peeresses ware richly attired, and with ther coronets on their heads. . . . At the coronation, tlie Te Deum and Veni Creator were sung. . . . Among other verses made on this coronation Elcana Setle, once the Whigs' poet, now fallen of, made a heroick poem, wher he brings in Shaftsburry, Essex, and Russell, (wdiom he calls G. Bur- net's reforming pupill,) gnashing their teeth and shaking their snakes in hell, at the news of the Duke of York's cor- onation as king, and calls Monmouth that skulking, litle, w^ou'd-be-king. . . , <>// { / 7/ / . V ^ ////rUA /_ .(/., 7/^// Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth 163 6. Extract from Bishop Burnet's History of his own Times. (Oxford, 1S52, p. 24.) I must now say something concern- ing myself. At this time [accession of James II. 1685] I went out of England. Upon King Charles's death, I had desired leave to come and pay my duty to the King by the marquis of Halifax. The King would not see me. So, since I was at that time in no sort of employment, not so much as allowed to preach anywhere, I resolved to go abroad. . . . The King approved of this, and consented to my going : but still refused to see me. So I was to go beyond sea, as to a voluntary exile. This gave me great credit with all the malecontents : and 1 made the best use of it I could. . . . Fletcher, a Scotch gentleman of great parts, and many virtues, but a most violent republican, and extravagantly passionate, did not like Argile's scheme [for raising a re- bellion in Scotland] : so he resolved to run fortunes with the duke of Mon- mouth. He told me, that all the English among them were still press- ing the duke of Monmouth to venture. They said, all the west of England would come about him, as soon as he appeared, as they had done five or six years ago. . . . This appeared a mad and desperate undertaking to the duke of Monmouth himself. He knew what a weak body a rabble was, and how unable to deal with troops long trained. Fletcher . . . said to me, that the duke of Monmouth was pushed on to it against his own sense and reason : but he could not refuse to hazard his person, when others were so forward. Lord Grey said, that Henry the seventh landed with a smaller number, and suc- ceeded. Fletcher answered, he was sure of several of the nobility, who were little princes in those days. . . . The night I left London, the Earl of Arran came to me, and told me, the King had an advertisement of it [Mon- mouth's plot] that very day. I saw it was fit for me to make haste : other- wise I should have been seized on, if it had been only to put the affront on me, of being suspected of holding corres- pondence with traitors. Argile had a very prosperous voyage. . . . At his landing he found, that the early notice the council had of his designs had spoiled his whole scheme. . . . Yet he got above 2500 men to come to him. . . . But he lingered too long, hoping still to have bi^ought more of his Highlanders together. . . . He had left his arms in a castle, with such a guard as he could spare ; but they were routed by a party of the Kmg's forces. And with this he lost both heart and hope. . . . He died pitied by all. His death being pursuant to the sentence passed three years be- fore, was looked on as no better than murder. 7. Extract from Fountainhall's Me- moirs. (Edinburgh, 1S37, p. 185.) Argile was brought from Glasgow to Edinburgh, prisoner, on the 20th of June. . . . At first our rulers ware so irritate, that they resolved to put all the marks of contumely on him they could ; such as, a cart was provided at the Watergate, with a chair in it to bind him on, and so hurdle him up the way, the hangman leading him, or else to set him on a coall horse, also ready ther ; for it was reported that in 1650, when the Marquis of Montrose was brought up prisoner from the Watergate in a cart, this Argile was feeding his eyes with the sight in the Lady Murrayes balcony, in the Canongate, with his daughter, his lady, to whom he was new married, and that he was seen plaving and smiling with her. . . . 164 Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth The dulnesse and sillinesse of the manner of his taking is very od ; Provi- dence confounding our common opinion of things : every one reputed Argile waliant and witty, and Sir John Coch- rane neither, and yet Argile sneaks awav from the hazard, and Sir John fights stoutly like a man ; only, the greatest coward when stiaitned (like a cat pershued in a cupboard) will fight desperately enough. . . . But this was yet more surprising and unprobable [than the case of Pyrrhus, which he has cited at some length] that the generall of ane army should be apprehended by country peeple, he stragling and stealing away before the fight ; and every on thought him so gal- lant and generous that, rather than be so tane and brought to a scaffold, he would much more choise to fight and to be killed on the field, as Rumbold answered, when he was bid render himself e " That he came there to fight for death, not for life." Argile had miserably deceaved both himselfe and those he had persuaded to joyne with him : for, i . The kingdome was not disposed to ryse so numerously as he expected ; 2. Monmouth, partly throw sicknesse, and partly by unreadinesse, (tho it was concerted and agreed betuen them in Holland, that he should follow him, so that both their invasions should be at once,) was so long of landing in England. . . . O the ludibrium of humane fortune ! Argile in pomp and glory carried our imperiall croun before this King when Duke of York in his Parliament 16S1 ; and now, in 4 years tyme, he is igno- miniously led up that same very street by the hangman. It was long debated at Privy Coun- sell, whither he should be hanged or headed, and the last carried it. . . . Our old Scots way of quartering, was only the cutting of the legs and the amies, (as was done with the great Montrose,) but did not divide the body, which severe practise we have only of late, since Rathilet's case, borrowed from the customes of England, whom we doe not imitate in manie better things. . . . And thus was Argile headed on the 30 of June i6S^, as his father had been in 166 1. He had all the civility imag- inable put upon him ; he was allowed 8 freinds to be in mourning with him on the scaffold, ... he came in coach to the toune Counsell, and from that on foot to the scaffold with his hat on. . . . He was somewhat appaled at the sight of the Maiden [the block?], (present death will danton the most resolute courage,) therfor he caused bind the napkin upon his face ere he approached, and then was led to it. His body, after the separation of his. head, by the great commotion and agi- tation of the animall and vitall spirits, started upright to his feet till it was held doune, and the blood from the jugular weins of the neck sprung most briskly like a cascade or jette d'eau. Thus fell that tall and mighty cedar in our Lebanon, the last of ane ancient and honorable family. Biirtict. . . . As soon as lord Argile sailed for Scotland he [Monmouth] set about his design with as much haste as was possible. Arms were brought, and a ship was freighted for Bilbao in Spain. The Duke of Monmouth pawned all his jewels : but these could not raise much : and no money was sent him out of England. So he was hurried into an ill designed invasion. The whole company consisted but of eighty-two persons. They were all faithful to one another. . . . Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth 165 8. Letter of the Mayor of Lyme to Tames II. (In Roberts' Monmouth, Vol. I. p. 257.) Honiton, nth June, i6S^, near I 2 at night. May it please your sacred Majesty : This evening, between seven and eight of the clock, there came in a great ship into the road of Lyme, not showing any colours; the off-side of the ship unseen by us on the shore : she filled five great boats full of men, which they speeded behind the Cobb, and so landed them to the westward of the town : they went over the cliffs, and presently were in the town at least 300 men, the Duke of Monmouth at the head of them, so that they became masters of the town. I presently, well knowing that I should be first seized, took my horse, and came with speed to this town, and gave notice to all the country as I came ; and sent my servants, that notice should be given to Somerset and Dorsetshiies ; and I hope to be at Exeter, to give an account of it to the Duke of Albemarle within two hours. ' With the great ship, there is a ketch of about one hundred tons, and a fly- boat, which I judge to be about two hundred tons : neither of them had landed any men when I came thence ; but we suppose them to be full of men. I find this place, and all the country, to be very ready to betake themselves to their arms against the rebels. In the morning at Chideocke, in our bay, they landed two men ; which I, understand- ing, sent by all ways to apprehend them. Whether they are taken, I know not : so I humbly beseech your Majesty to pardon this distracted rela- tion, not doubting but they have plun- dered me. I am, your Majesty's most hiunble and obedient servant and subject. I3i(r)ict . The alarm was brought hot to Lon- don : where upon the general report and belief of the thing, an act of at- tainder passed both houses in one day ; some small opposition being made by the Earl of Anglesey, because the evi- dence did not seem clear enough for so severe a sentence, which was grounded on the notoriety of the thing. The sum of 5.000/ was set on his head. . . . The Duke of Monmouth's manifesto was long, and ill penned : full of much black and dull malice. It was' plainly Ferguson's style, which was both tedi- ous and fulsome. 9. Monmouth's Declaration. (In Roberts's Monmouth. London, 1844. Vol. L, p. 235.) . . . We are particularly compelled to say, that all the boundaries of the Government have of late been broken, and nothing left unattempted, for turn- ing our limited monarchy into an abso- lute tyranny. . . . Our religion hath been all along undermined by Popish councils, and our privileges ravished from us by fraud and violence. And more especially, the whole course and series of the life of the present usurper hath been but one continued conspiracy against the reformed religion, and rights of the nation. For whosoever consid- ers his contriving the burning of Lon- don ; his instigating a confederacy with France and a war with Holland ; his fomenting the Popish Plot, and encour- aging the murther of Sir Ed. Godfrey to stifle it ; his forging treason against protestants, and suborning witnesses to swear the patriots of our religion and liberties out of their lives ; his hiring execrable villains to assassinate the late Earl of Essex, and causing several others to be clandestinely cut off, in hopes to conceal it ; his advising and 1 66 Rebellion of Argylc and Monmouth procuring the prorogation and dissolu- tion of parliaments, in order to prevent inquiry into his crimes, and that he might escape the justice of the nation : such can imagine notliing so black and horrid in itsself , or so ruinous and de- structive to religion and the kingdom which we may not expect from him, upon his having invaded the throne, and usurped the title of a king. . . . Unless we could be willing to be slaves as well as papists . . . and withal be unmindful of our duty to God, our country and posterity, deaf to the cries and groans of our oppressed friends, and be satisfied not only to see them and ourselves imprisoned, robbed and murthered, but the Protestant in- terest throughout the whole world be- trayed to France and Rome, we are bound as men and Christians ... to betake ourselves to arms. . . . Now therefore we do solemnly declare and proclaim w\ar against James Duke of York, as a murderer and an assassin of innocent men ; a Popish usurper of the crown, traitor to the nation and tyrant over the people. . . . And whereas the said James Duke of York, in order to the expediting the idolatrous and bloody designs of the Papists, the gratifying his own bound- less ambition after a crown, and to hin- der inquiry into his assassination of Arthur Earl of Essex, hath poisoned the late King, and therein manifested his ingratitude, as well as cruelty to the world, in murdering a brother, who had almost ruined himself to preserve and protect him from punisliment : we do therefore further declare, that for the aforesaid villanous and unnatural crime, and other his crimes before mentioned, and in pursuance of the resolution of both Houses of Parlia- ment, who voted to revenge the King's death in case he came to an untimely end, we will prosecute the said James Duke of York till we have brought him to suffer what the law adjudged to be the punishment of so execrable a fact. And in a more particular manner, his Grace the Duke of Monmouth, being deeply sensible of that barbarous and horrid parricide committed upon his father, doth resolve to pursue the said James Duke of York as a mortal and bloodv enemy. . . . And forasmuch as the said James Duke of Monmouth, the now head and Captain General of the Protestant forces of this Kingdom . . . hath been, and still is believed, to have a legitimate and legal right to the crowns of Eng- land, Scotland, France and Ireland . . . the said Duke of Monmouth, from the generousness of his own na- ture and the love he bears to these na- tions . . . doth not at present insist upon his title, but leaves the determina- tion thereof to the w'isdom, justice and authority of a Parliament. . . . Our dependence and trust is upon the Lord of Hosts, in whose name we go forth, and to whom we commit our cause, and refer the decision betwixt us and our enemies in the day of battle. Now let us play the men for our peo- ple, and for the cities of our God ; and the Lord do that which seemeth good unto him. lo Correspondence of Monmouth and Albemarle. (In Roberts, Vol. I. p, 326. Also in Ellis.) To our trusty and ivcll-belovcd Cousin and Councillor^ ChristopJicr Lord Duke of Albemarle. My Lord : Whereas we are credibly informed that there are some horse and foot in arms under your command for James Duke of York, which are pur- posely raised in opposition to us and our royal authority ; we thought fit to signify to you our resentment thereof, and do promise ourself that what you Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth 167 have transacted therein was through in- advertency and mistake ; and that your Grace will take other means, when you have received information of our being proclaimed King, to succeed our royal father, lately deceased. We have therefore sent this messenger on pur- pose to intimate the same unto you ; and it is our royal will and pleasure, and we do hereby strictly charge and command you, upon notice and receipt thereof, to cease all hostility, and force, and arms against us and all our loving subjects ; and that your Grace would immediately repair to our camp, where you shall not fail of a very kind recep- tion by us ; or, in default of the prem- ises, we shall be obliged to proclaim you, and all those in arms under your command, rebels and traitors, and shall proceed against you accordingly. Yet we assure ourself that your Grace will pay ready obedience to our command ; wherefore we bid you hearty farewell. James R. For James Scott^ late Duke of ^lonmonth. I received your letter, and do not doubt but you would use me kindly if you had me ; and since you have given yourself the trouble of invitation, this is to let you know that I never was, nor never will be, a rebel to my lawful King, who is James the Second. If you think I am in the wrong, and you in the right, whenever we meet I do not doubt but the justness of my cause shall sufficiently convince you that you had better have lett this rebellion alone, and not have put the nation to so much trouble. Albemarle-. II. Extract from Burnet. Upon the duke of Monmouth's land- ing, many of the country people came in to join him, but very few of the gentry. lie had quickly men enough about him to use all his arms. The duke of Albemarle, as lord lieutenant of Devonshire, was sent down to raise the militia, and with them to make head against him. But their ill affection ap- peared very evidently : many deserted, and all were cold in the service. The duke of Monmouth had the whole country open to him for almost a fort- night, during which time he was very diligent in training and animating his men. His own behaviour was so gentle and obliging, that he was master of all their hearts, as much as was pos- sible. But he quickly found, what it was to be at the head of undisciplined men, that knew nothing of war, and that were not to be used with rigour. . . . The duke of Monmouth's great error was, that he did not in the first heat venture on some hardy action, and then march either to Exeter or Bristol ; where, as he would have found much wealth, so would he have gained some reputation by it. But he lingered in exercising his men, and stayed too long in the neighborhood of Lime. By this means the King had time both to bring troops out of Scotland, after Argile was taken, and to send to Holland for the English and Scotch regiments that were in the sei*\'ice of the States ; which the prince [William] sent over very readily, and offered his own person, and a greater force, if it was necessary. [The King was too wise to accept. — Old Conimentator .~\ The King received this with great ex- pressions of acknowledgment and kind- ness. It was very visible, that he was much distracted in his thoughts, and that what appearance of courage soever he might put on, he was inwardly full of apprehensions and fears. . . . He had no mind to be much obliged to the prince of Orange, or to let him into his counsels or affairs. . . . 1 68 Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth The King could not choose worse than he did when he gave the command to the Earl of Feversham. . . . ]SIon- mouth had ahnost surprised lord Fever- sham, and all about him, while they were a-bed. He got in between two bodies, into which the army lay divided. He now saw his error in lingering so long. He began to want bread, and to be so straitened, that there was a neces- sity of pushing for a speedy decision. He was so misled in his march, that he lost an hour's time : and when he came near the army, there was an inconsider- able ditch, in the passing which he lost so much more time, that the officers had leisure to rise and be dressed, now they had the alarm and they put themselves in order. Yet the duke of Monmouth's foot stood longer and fought better. than could have been expected : especially, when the small body of horse they had, ran upon the first charge, the blame of which was cast on the Lord Grey. The foot being thus forsaken and galled by the cannon, did run at last. About a thousand of them were killed on the spot : and i soo were taken prisoners. Their numbers when fullest, were between five and six thousand. The duke of Monmouth left the field too soon for a man of courage, who had such high pretensions : for a few days before he had suffered himself to be called king, which did him no service, even among those that followed him. He rode towards Dorsetshire : and when his horse could carry him no further, he changed clothes with a shepherd, and went as far as his legs could carry him, being accompanied only with a German, whom he hail brought over with him. At last, when he could go no further, he lay down in a field where there was hay and straw, with which they covered themselves, so that they hoped to lie there unseen till night. Parties went out on all hands to take prisoners. The shepherd was found by tlie lord Lumley, in the duke of ^Monmouth's clothes. So this put them on his track, and having some dogs with them they followed the scent, and came to the place where the Ger- man was first discovered. And he im- mediately pointed to the place wdiere the duke of Monmouth lay. So he was taken. . . . His body was cjuite sunk with fatigue : and his mind was now so low, that he begged his life in a manner that agreed ill with the courage of the former parts of it. He called for pen, ink, and paper; and wrote to the earl of Feversham, and both to the queen, and the queen dowager, to inter- cede with the King for his life. The King's temper, as well as his interest, made it so impossible to hope for that, that it shewed a great meanness in him to ask it in such terms as he used in his letters. He was carried up to White- hall ; where the King examined him in person, which was thought very in- decent, since he was resolved not to pardon him. He made new and unbe- coming submissions, and insinuated a readiness to change his religion : for he said, the King knew what his first education was in religion. 12. Letter of the Duke of Monmouth to James H. (In Roberts, Vol. L p. . . . The Prince and Princess of Orange will be witness for me of the assurance I gave them, that I would never stir against you. But my mis- fortune was such as to meet with some horrid people that made me believe things of your ISIajesty, and gave me so many false arguments, that I was fully led away to believe that it was a sliame and a sin before God not to do it. . . . I am sure, sir, when you hear me, vou will be convinced of the zeal I have Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth 169 of your preservation, and how lieartily I repent of what I have done. I can say no more to your Majesty now, being this letter must be seen by those that keep me. Therefore, sir, I shall make an end, in begging of your Majesty to believe so well of me, that I would rather die a thousand deaths than ex- cuse anything I have done, if I did not really think myself the most in wrong that ever a man was, and had not from the bottom of my heart an abhorrence for those that put me upon it, and for the action itself. I hope, sir, God Almiglity will strike your heart with mercy and compassion for me, as He has done mine with the abhorrence of what I have done. Wherefore, sir, I hope I may live to show you how zeal- ous I shall ever be for your service : and could I but say one word in this letter, you would be convinced of it ; but it is of that consequence that I dare not do it. Therefore, sir, I do beg of you once more to let me speak to you, for then you will be convinced how much I shall ever be Your Majesty's most humble and dutiful Monmouth. 13. Extracts from the Buccleugh MSS. (In Appendix of Sir Patrick Hume's Narrative. London, 1S09.) The Duke of Monmouth from the time of his being taken in the West, shewd a wonderful concerned ness to save his life, and stuck at nothing that could secure to him the hopes of dooing it. His Majestic w^as the first person that he made his application to, by a humble and submissive letter : . . . giving the King to understand that he has such important matters to commu- nicate to his Majestic, that should secure his whole nations against the fears and ■disturbances of rebellion and sedition ever after ; and that by the satisfaction he imagines this discovery would give the King he doubted not, but in some measure, to deserve pardon upon this consideration. He was admitted to see the King at Mr. Griffin's, where, at his Majestic appearing, he fell down on his knees and with much earnestness begged his life, and his Majestie's pardon for what he had done. The King told him, of the latest. The sub- stance in generall of what he told his Majestic, and as yet has come to my knowledge, was: That he was deceived and imposed upon by a company of rogues and villans, that flattered him with the hopes and promises of achiev- ing of great matters; and that if he land once on English ground all the nation would appear for him . . . that Fergusone w'as chiefly the person that instigat him to set up his title of King and had been a main adviser and con- triver of the whole affair, as well to the attempting as acting what had been done. . . . That night he was carried away to the tower. After that the devotionarie and intcr- rogatorie pairt had bein over, he went to that pairt of the scaffold where the block and ax lave. The axe he took into his hand, and felt the edge of it, saying to Jack Ketch [the 0}-igi)ial Jack Ketch. — Ed.], the executioner, that sure the axe did not feill as if it were sharp enough, and prayed him that he would doe his office weill, and not serve him as he was told he had done the late Lord Russell ; for if he gave him two stroaks, he would not promise him that he would lye still to receive the third ; and putting his hand in his pocket, gave him six guinics ; telling him, that if he did his dutie weel, he left six more in his servant's hands to be given him after he was dead, provyding he did his busines handsomely. All 170 Rebellion of Argyle and Monmouth this he said with alse much indiffer- encie and unconcernednes as if he were giveing ordouis for a sute of cloathes. Noe cliange nor alteratione of counte- nance from the first unto the last ; but stript himself of his coat; and haveing prayed, laved himself downe, and fitted his neck to the block, with all the calm- nes of temper and composer of mynd that ever hath bein observed in any that mounted that fatall scafold before. He would have no cap to his head, nor be bound, nor have anie thing on his feace ; and yett for all this, the botcherl} dog, the executioner, did soe barbarously act his pairt, that he could not at fyve stroaks of the ax, sever the head from the body. At the first, which made only a slender dash in his necke, his body heaved up and his head turned about; the second stroak he made only a deeper dash, after which the bodv moved ; the third, not being the work, he threw away the ax, and said, God damne me, I can doe no more, my heart fails me. The bystanders had much adoe to forbear throwing him over the scafold ; but made him take the ax againe, threatening to kill him if he did not doe his deutie better, \vhich tuo stroaks more not being able to finish the work, he was fain at last to draw furth his long knife and with it to cutt of the remaining pairt of his neck. If there had not bein a guard before the shouldieres to conduct the executioner away, the people \vould have torne him to pieces, soe great was their indigna- tione at the barbarovis usage of the leat Duek of Monmouth, receaved at his hand. There were many that had the superstitious curiositie of dipping their handkercheifs in his blood, and carrey- ing it awav as a precious relique. GROUP XIX. THE ARBITKAHV RULE OF JAMES 11. I. Letter of Dr. Hickes to Dr. Charlett. (In Aubrey, Letters by emi- nent persons. London, 1S13.) Jan 23rd, 1710-1 I. Dear Sir : I . . . can defer my humble thanks no longer for your kind New Years gifts, the stately Almanack and the Orationes ex Poctis Latlnis^ where ... I cast my eyes on the Sortcs Virgilianae of Charles I. At Bcllo Alidads Pop7ili vexatus^ etc. This gave me some melancholy re- flections for an hour or two, and made me call to my mind . . . the omens that happened at the coronation of . . . James II., which I saw, viz. : the totter- ing of his crown upon his liead, the broken canopy over it, and the rent flag hanging upon the white tower over against my door when I came home from the coronation. It was torn by the wind at the same time the signal was given to the tower that he was crowned. I put no great stress upon omens but I cannot despise them : most of them I believe come by chance, but some from superior agents, especially those wliich regard the fate of kings and nations. 3. Description of James II. by an anonymous Contemporary. (In ^lac- pherson's Original Papers, I. 589.) He was something above the middle stature, well-shaped, very nervous and strong. His face was rather long, his countenance engaging. But his out- ward carriage was a little stiff and con- The Arbitrary Rule of James II. 171 strained. He was not so gracious as he was courteous and obliging. He was affable and of easy access. He affected no formality, though no one knew the ceremonial better, nor was more exact in the observation of them when necessary. . . . Having some hesitation in his speech, his conversa- tion was not so graceful as it was judi- cious and solid. His temper was natu- rally hot and choleric. But, m his latter days, he got the better of that ; and, even in his younger days, it seldom so much overpowered him, as to make him do any action unbecoming. . . . He was a great lover of walking and hunting. But no diversion made him neglect business; to which he had so great an application, that it seemed to be of the number of his diversions. He was so distinguishable for this, that, during his younger days, notwithstand- ing the unsettledness of his condition, while he lived in exile, he had not only performed his duty with great exact- ness, but kept an account of all occur- ences ; and he has obliged posterity with better memoirs under his own hand, than perhaps any sovereign prince has been known to leave behind him before. He was, all his life, a great enemy to drinking, gaming, and indeed to all diversions which commonly i"ender men incapable of business. . . . His affec- tion for the Qiieen was mixed with a respect and deference. He was the best father in the world, and the most unfortunate in some of his children ; the best master, yet the worst served : a most constant friend, yet never prince found fewer in his greatest necessities. He was so fond of his chiUiren, in par- ticular, that when he found the princess of Denmark [Anne] had desertetl him, upon his return from Salisbury, he only seemed anxious about her health and fears for her miscarriage. 3. Extracts from Fountainhall's Me- moirs. 16S5. . . . The King, the Sunday im- mediately following his brother's death, went openly to his Qiiean's popish chappell, and heard masse, and de- clared, that when he was a subject, he had that respect for the laws of Eng- land, that he would not break them, but now as King, being above the ex- ecutive force of the law, he ouned his religion, which was judged in- genuity. . . . Our King hearing how the French King had receaved Churchill, he payes him in his oune coin, and receives Lorge sitting in his chair of state in the gallery with his hat on ; which some French resented, tho it may be meer policy, to give out that ther is a misun- derstanding between the 2 kings, to please the English. The last king ad- mitted embassadors without any pomp or ceremony, to speak him stantling in his bedchamber with his hat of. The change upon the face of the English court is very remarkable : in the last king's tyme mirth, playes, buffoonerie, etc., domineered, and was incouragetl ; now, there is litle to be seen but seriousnesse and busi- nesse. . . . On the iSth of April, being the vigil before Easter, the King washed 53 poor men's feet, according to the number of the years of his oune age, and he touches severalls for the King's Evill. He emits a new severe Procla- mation against duels, and certifies, whoever intices anotlier, or brings a second with him, he will pardon none of them. . . . The King delivered to both Houses his Speach . . . where- in he differs much from his broth- er's style, and signifies his pleasure in very peremptorie termes, that it will not be ther best way to feed him 172 The Arbitrary Rule of James II from tyme to tyme with supplies, for that will not praevaill Avith him to gather them the oftner together ; then he acquaints them with Argile's rebel- lion in Scotland and hopes they will give him a suitable supply against the same. • And they having on the 23 of May signified to his Majesty, that by ane act they would settle all the revenue of tonnage and poundage [on his Majesty for his life-time] . . . and that they would stand by him with their lives and fortunes against Argile and all other conspirators; he (with- out giving them thanks, as his brother used to doe,) with a very dry comple- ment, tells them, they could doe no lesse in consulting ther ovme security. And in his Speach of the 30 of May, he craves a farder supply ; and to flat- ter the genius of the nation, he tells them in a style wain enough, that he hopes to raise the reputation of Eng- land beyond what any of his praede- •cessors [had done]. . . . Whereupon the House of Commons vote him a farder supply. . . . Some ascrybed this complyance of the House of Com- mons with the King more to fear than love, and that he took the true way of treating Englishmen, in King Henry the 8th' s minatory forme, that as he would invade no man's properties, so he would quite none of his oune rights and praerogatives ; and that he began with them as he intended to end : for the old distich holds true, Atiglica gciis^ optima Jicns^ pcssima ridens ; with too much prosperity they turne unsup- portably insolent, so that it is not safe to flatter or cajole them ; for sundry of this house of Commons are disaffected, but are borne doune by the major pait, who syde with the King, the elections in counties and burrows being so man- adged, that by the limitations of the new charters given them, and excom- munications and other methods used to debar such as they doubted, they got many of them to the King's oune mind ; which was a point his lale brother could never of late compasse, tho he had as mucli of his people's love as the present King hes, only he was no so much feared by them, ... If the King had ane army up, it's like he would not disband it so easily as his brother did his. . . . The English Parliament met again on the 9th of November, 16S5, by his Majestie's special call: wher the King tells them that, in this late invasion [Monmouth's] ther was a great discov- ery of the insufficiency of the militia to suppresse risings, which had moved him to double the standing forces there had been in his brother's tyme . . . and therfor he hoped they would grant him a suitable supply to defray it ; and that he had made use of some to be officers in his army who ware not qual- ified according to the laws (being pop- ish) , but to deal plainly with them he would nather expose nor desert them. , . . The two Houses having retired, the Peers ware induced to thank the King for his Speach ; but the commons de- murred on it, they liked nather the on part of the Speach nor the other : a standing army they ware not for . . . and, as to Popish officers they . . . would have them removed in tvme coming. . . . The Lor d Jeffries, ChanceKor, brought in a bill to the House of Peers for reschinding the Test made in 1678 against transsubstantiation, and for allowing the Popish lords (who are 17 in England) to come and sit in the House of Peers. . . . Upon this mo- tion of the Chancelor's many of the nobility and bischops got up and shewed gicat resentment and indigna- tion, clouds of them speaking at once ; and he reprooving them, as violating The Arbitrary Rule of James II. 173 the order and forme of Parliament, on told him they knew what decency be- came a Parliament as weell as he knew the King's Bench, reflecting on his rise. Tlie peers, who used alwayes to be most tame and obsecjuions to the Kings, turned very gitldy and discon- tent in this Parliament; what had of- fended and allarumed them was the King's turning the Marquis of Halifax, Bischop of London, etc., of his Privy Counsel 1. . . . What displeased the Peers is, i . That it's the temper and genius of English Parliaments to begin fair, and to be fond and kind to ther new Princes, but ther concord uses not to last long. 3. It was publickly knowen in London, that a Nuncio or Vicar generall was come from the Pope to the King at London . . . whereas ther had not been such embassies pass- ing between Rome and England never since the reigne of Qiiean Mary thesse 130 years. In the house of peers ther ware od speaches : ther religion (on said) was like the banks in Holland which bri- dled the sea ; once make a breach in them, all their hands would not be able to stop the breach and inundation. . . . The Bischop of London went to the King, and fell on his knees, intreat- ing him to quiet and secure the minds of the peeple, . . . and they say, the King turned on his heel. . . . As for the commons, the King can never expect to get a better constituted House of Commons. . . . They are all men almost pricked doun by the King himself as his freinds, and ther ar about 150 of them his defenders and pension- ers : so that it behooved to be a very extroordinary demand of the Kings that stai"tled them : and the truth was, many lo3'alI subjects wished he had not scrued the pine so hy in his Speach, as he left no honourable roume for a retrait to himselfe, if the Parliament should not grant his desire. . . . The King was so irritated with their free discourses on the iSth, that he took resolution that same night to prorogue them ; which he did on the 19th in the anorning, (which was knowen to few,) having come to the House of Peers in his robes, and the croun on his head, and called up the House of Commons and their Speaker, and so prorogued them himselfe. . . . The members of the English Parliament are observed to be very calme when out of Parliament, but seldome doe they return better natured than when they parted, but rather with 7 devills. . . . The rich men in the city of London are very discontented, and so renders trade very dead. . . . The King was resolved in this last Parliament, to have passed ane act that ther Habeas Corpus write should not liberate in treason, that the King might not be forced to insist or dividge his proofs ther, in cases of treason, before he ware ready, which in experience he had found to be prejudiciall. . . . In April, 16S6, my two servants being imprisoned, and I threatened therewith, as also, that they would seize upon my papers, and search if they contained anything offensive to the party then prevailling, I was neces- sitated to hide this Manuscript and many others, and intermit my Historick Remarks till the Revolution in the end of 1688. Rcrcsby s ^lemoirs. March 2nd, 16S5. ... It was now out of doubt that the King w\as a Papist, for he went publicly to mass ; but he ordered the chapel at Whitehall to be kept in the same order as formerly, where the Princess of Denmark [later Qiieen Anne] went dailv. The King repaired to the Qiieen's private chapel. . . . 174 The Arbitrary Rule of James II. Nov. 20th. . . . The Popish party at this time behaved themselves with an insolence which did them a prejudice. The King of France continued to practise all the cruelties imaginable towards the Pro- testants in France to make them turn Papists, commanding that all extrem- ities should be used but death, as seiz- ing their lands, razing their temples and houses, taking all their goods, put- ting them into prisons, quartering dragoons with them to eat up their estates and to watch them that they should not sleep till they changed their religion. Many of them fled into all parts as they could escape, poor and naked ; for their estates were stopped and themselves condemned to the gal- leys if they were taken attempting to fly. . . . ISIarch i. . , . Though it could not be said that there was as yet any remarkable invasion upon the rights of the Church of England, yet the King gave all the encouragement he could to the increase of his own, by putting more papists into office, but especially in Ireland ; by causing or allowing popish books to be printed and sold and cried publicly ; by publishing some popish papers found in the late King's closet, and the declaration of his dying a papist and the manner of it ; . . . by sending my Lord Castelmaine upon a solemn em- bassy to the Pope, and many other such things ; which made all men expect that more would follow of a greater concern. . . . May 13th. . . . The King having lately got a Jesuit for his confessor, went on faster than formerly in promoting the Roman Catholic religion. 4. Extracts from Burnet. (After ISIonmouth's Execution.) Thus lived and died this unfortunate young man. He had several good qualities in him, and some that were as bad. He was soft and gentle even to excess, and too easy to those who had credit with him. He was both sincere and good-natured, and understood war well. But he was too much given to pleasure and to favourites. . . . The King was now as successful as his own heart could wish. . . . And certainlv a reign that was now so be- vond expectation successful in its first six months seemed so well settled that no ordinarv mismanagement could have spoiled such beginnings. If the King had ordered a speedy execution of such persons as were fit to be made public examples, and had upon that granted a general indemnity ... it is not easy to imagine with what advantage he might then have opened and pursued his designs. But his own temper, and the fury of some of his ministers, and the maxims of his priests . . . concurred to make him lose advantages that were never to be recovered. . . . The army was kept for some time in the western counties, where both officers and soldiers lived as in an enemy's country, and treated all that were believed to be ill affected to the King with great rudeness and violence. Kirk, who had commanded long in Tangier, was become so savage by the neighbourhood of the Moors there, that some days after the battle, he ordered several of the prisoners to be hanged up at Taunton, without so much as the form of law, he and his company look- ing on from an entertainment they were at. At every new health another pris- oner was hanged up. And they were so brutal, that observing tlie shaking of the legs of those whom tliey hanged, it The Arbitrary Rule of James II. 175 was said among them, they were danc- ing ; and upon that music was called for. But, as if this had been nothing, Jeffries was sent the western circuit to try the prisoners. His behaviour was beyond anything that was ever heard of in a civilized nation. He was perpet- ually either drunk or in a rage, liker a fury than the zeal of a judge. He re- quired the prisoners to plead guilty. And in that case he gave them some hope of favour if thev gave him no trouble : otherwise, he told them, he would execute the letter of the law upon them in its utmost severity. This made many plead guilty who had a great de- fence in law. But he shewed no mercy. He ordered a great many to be hanged up immediately without allowing them a minute's time to say their prayers. He hanged, in several places, about six hundred persons. The impieties with which he treated them . . . would have amazed one, if done by a bashaw in Turkey. England had never known anything like it. But that which brought all his excesses to be imputed to the King himself, and to the orders given by him, was, that the King had a particu- lar account of all his proceedings writ to him every day. And he took pleas- ure to relate them in the drawing room to foreign ministers, and at his table, calling it Jeffries' s campaign [also in letters. — Ed.] . . . Dykfield was at that time in England, one of the ambassa- dors whom the States had sent over to congratulate the King's coming to the crown. He told me, that the King talked so often of these things, that he wondered to see him break out into those indecencies. And upon Jeffries' s coming back, he was created a baron and peer of England. [He was created a baron and peer before. Old Coin- me7itaior.'\ . . . Pen [Sylvan Penn] who saw the execution [of old Lady Lisle, who fell asleep at her trial] . . . said to me, the king was much to be pitied, who was hurried into all this effusion of blood by Jeffries' s impetuous and cruel temper. 5. Extracts from an " Lnpartial Ac- count of Kirk's Cruelties . . . by ... an Eye and Ear Witness." (In the work known as the Bloody As- sizes, 5th Edition.) When Kirk came first into Taunton he came with two cartloads of men bloody, and their wounds not drest, just as they were hauled into Bridge- water Prison. . . . He also brought with him into Taunton, a great drove of foot, chained two and two together. He hanged 19 on the Corn-hill imme- diately. . . . He caused their bowels to be burnt, and their quarters to be boiled in pitch, and hanged all about the town. Kirk hanged one on the White Heart sign-post three times, to try if he would own he had done amiss ; but he affirmed (to this effect) that if it was to do again, he would engage in the same cause ; so Kirk would have him hang'd in chains ; and so he was, till King William came to the deliverance of this nation from poperv and slavery. When Jenkins, Hewlings, etc., were to die, before they came out, there was a great fire made on the Corn-hill, that so they might see the fire that was to burn their bowels. Some that Kirk caused to be hanged, he caused also their bodies to be stript, and their breasts to be cleav'd asunder; in the place where he caused the execu- tions to be done, you might have gone up to the ankles in blood. 176 The Arbitrary Rule of James II. Formula for Sentences of Judges. (Qiioted by Roberts from *•' State Trials.") You must every one of vou be had back to the phice from whence you came, from thence you must be drawn to the place of execution, and there you must severally be hanged by the necks, every one of you by the neck till you are almost dead ; and then you must be cut down, your entrails must be taken out and burtit before your faces; your several heads to be cut off, and your bodies to be divided into four parts, and those to be disposed of at the pleasure of the King : and the Lord have merev upon your souls. 6. Extract from North's Life of Guilford. (In Jessop's Lives of the Norths. London, 1S90. Vol. I. p. 288.) "Noisy in nature. Turbulent at first setting out. Deserter in difficul- ties. Full of tricks. Helped by sim- ilar friendships. Honesty, law, policv, alike." This, to conclude, is the summary character of the Lord Chief Justice Jeffries and needs no interpreter. . . . I will subjoin what I have personally noted of the man ; and some things of indubitable report concerning him. . . . His delights were . . . drinking, laughing, singing, kissing, and all the extravagances of the bottle. He had a set of banterers for the most part, near him ; as in old time great men kept fools to make them merry. . . . No friend- ship or dearness could be so great in private which he would not use ill, and to an extravagant degree, in publick. No one . . . was safe from his public contempt and derision. . . . When he was in temper and matters indifferent came before him, he became his seat of justice better than any other I ever saw in his place. He took a pleasure in mortifying fraudulent attorneys and would deal forth his severities with a sort of majesty. He had extraordinary natural abilities. . . . He talked flu- ently and with spirit ; and his weak- ness was that he could not reprehend without scolding ; and in such Billings- gate language as should not come out of the mouth of any man. He called it, "giving a lick with the rough side of his tongue." It was ordinary to hear him sa}^ "Go, you are a filthy, lousy, knitty rascal," with much more of like elegance. . . . And that visage he put on when he animadverted on such as he took offence at, which made him a terror to real offenders; whom also he terrified, with his face and voice, as if the thunder of the day of judgement broke over their heads : and nothing ever made men tremble like his vocal inflictions. He loved to in- sult and was bold without check ; but that only when his place was upper- most. . . . There was a scrivener . . . [whose] bill was dismissed with costs, and he went his way. In the hall, one of his friends asked him how he came off.' "Came off," said he, "I am escaped from the terrors of that man's face which I woidd scarce undergo again to save my life ; and I shall cer- tainly have the friglitful impression of it as long as I live." Afterwards, when the Prince of Orange came, and all was in confusion, this lord chancel- lor, being very obnoxious, disguised himself in order to go beyond sea. He was in a seaman's garb and drink- ing a pot in a cellar. This scrivener came into the cellar after some of his clients; and his eye caught that face which made him start; and the chan- cellor, seeing himself eyed, feigned a cough and turned to the wall. The Arbitrary Rule of James II. 177 7. Extract from the Bloody Assizes. Case of Mr. John Tut chin. This young gentleman had the mis- fortune, with many others of his ac- quaintance, to be in the interest of the Duke of Monmouth, but had a better fortune than many of 'em, by conceal- ing his name. For ... he was com- mitted to prison under the borrow' d name of Thomas Pitts, and his real name was not discovered till after lie was acquitted of the Rebellion, no person appealing as evidence against him. But Jeffreys having discovered his true name before Mr. Tutchin was gone from the prison, was resolv'd upon revenge, and said he was never so far outwitted, by an old or young rogue in his life. Mr. Tutchin . . . was brought up again to the hall ; but Jeffreys not car- ing to indict him for rebellion, pre- tended that the crime of changing his name deserved a severe sentence ; and thereupon passed sentence as follows : That he should remain in prison during the space of seven years ; that once every year he should be whipt thro' all the market towns in Dorsetshire ; that he should pay a fine of loo marks to the king, and find security for his good behaviour during life. This, you will say, was a whipping-sentence indeed. It was observable, when this sentence was past upon Mr. Tutchin, that the ladies in the court, of which thei'e were a great many, all burst out a crying ; but Jeffreys turning towards them, said, " Ladies, if you did but know what a villain this is, as well as I do, you would say, this sentence is not half bad enough for him." Upon passing the sentence the clerk of the arraigns stood up, and said, "My Lord, there are a great many market-towns in this county, the sen- tence reaches to a whipping about once a fortnight, and he's a very young man." "Aye," says Jeffreys, "he's a young man, but he's an old rogue; and all the interest in England shan't reverse the sentence I have past upon him." But certainly no devil incarnate could rage, nor no Billingsgate woman could scould worse than this judge did at this young gentleman whilst he was at the bar. He . . . told him that he was a rebel from Adam, that never any of his family had the least loyalty ; and, said he, "I understand you are a wit and poet, pray sir, let you and I cap verses." Mr. Tutchin smil'd in his face, and told him he knew upon what ground he stood, and when he was overmatched. . . . Mr. Tutchin . . . drew up a peti- tion with his own hand, which was pre- sented to the King at Winchester, and was as follows . . . " That he humbly conceives the sentence pass'd upon him by the said Jeffreys is worse than death ; and therefore humbly prays your jMaj- esty will be mercifully pleas' d to grant him the favour of being hang'd with those of his fellow-prisoners, that are condemned to die." . . . The Court esteemed it a barbarous sentence ;, and it's said the King esteemed it no less. But all the answer could be got, was from the Lord Sunderland, That Mr. Tutchin must wait with patience. . . . Four or five days before the execu- tion of the sentence, a brother in law of Mr. Tutchins, a physician, persuaded him to take a dose of physic to make himself sick, by which means the exe- cution might be put off. . . . He took the dose and in three or four days the small-pox came out very thick upon him, no man ever had 'em to a higher degree. . . . Mr. Tutchin lying in this miserable condition . . . his friends 178 The Arbitrary Rule of James II, worked the easier with Jeffreys to get the sentence reversed, which some peo- ple would have believed a sign of re- pentance in Jeffreys, had he not taken the money himself. ... So he was popt into a pardon amongst others ; for 'twas usual at that time for one courtier to get a pardon of the king for half a score, and then by the assistance of Jeffreys to augment the sum to four- score or an hundred, and so this unfor- tunate gentleman fortunately got out of his broil. . . . Who could have thought, when Jeffreys past that sentence on Mr. Tutchin in the West, that ever Mr. Tutchin should see that wicked judge a prisoner, apprehended l)y the injur' d people, and committed by a tool of his own party? Yet so it happened. For Jeffreys endeavouring to make his escape beyond sea in a sailor's habit was . . . taken in Anchor-and-Hope Alley in Wapping, and by the mob carried before the instrument of Popery, Sir J C , then Lord Mayor of the City of London, and by him com- mitted to the Tower. Mr. Tutchin hearing of this, went to give his Lordship a visit ; who did not know Mr. Tutchin at first, he being much altered with the small-pox ; but Jeffreys understanding who he was, told him, " He was glad to see him." Mr. Tutchin answered, " He was glad to see him in that place." Jeffreys re- turned, that time and ])lace happened to all men, . . . and abundance of such cant ; but added, that he had served his master very faithfully accord- ing to his conscience. Mr. Tutchin asked him, where his conscience was when he past that sentence on him in the West? Jeffreys said . , . "'twas part of my instructions, to spare no man of courage, parts or estate" ; but witlial added, that his instructions were much more severe than the execution of tliem, and that at his return he was snub'd at Court for being too merciful. So after he had treated Mr. Tutchin with a glass of wine, Mr. Tutchin went away. Soon after this Jeffreys had a barrel of oysters sent him to the Tower, which he caused to be opened, saying, He thanked God he had some friends left. But when the oysters were tumbled out on the table, a halter came out with them, which made him change his countenance, and so pall'd his stomach that he could eat none of them. This was confidently reported to be done by Mr. Tutchin ; but I having heard him protest that he was not in the least con- cerned therein, we must believe it to be done by another hand. 8. Extracts from Evelyn. Dec. 29th, 16S6. I went to heare the musiq of the Italians in the New Chapel, now first open'd publicky at Whitehall for the Popish service. . . . The thi'one where the King and Qiieene sit is very glori- ous, in a closet above, just opposite to the altar. Here we saw the Bishop in his mitre and rich copes, with 6 or 7 Jesuits and others in rich copes, sump- tuously habited, often taking off and putting on the Bishop's mitre, who sate in a chaire with armes pontificaly, was ador'd and cens'd by 3 Jesuits in their copes ; tlien he went to the altar and made divers cringes, then censing the images and glorious tabernacle plac'd on the altar, and now and then cliang- ing place : the crosier which was of silver, was put into his hand with a world of mvstcrious ceremonv, the musiq playing, with singing. I could not have believed I should ever have scene such things in the King of Eng- land's Palace, after it had pleas' d God to enlighten this Nation ; but owr greate The Arbitrary Rule of James II. 179 sin has, for the present, eclips'd the blessing, which I hope He will in mercy and his good time restore to its purity. Jan. 17th, 16S6-7. Much expectation of severall greate men declaring themselves Papists. Lord Tyrconnell gone to succeed the Lord Lieutenant in Ireland, to the as- tonishment of all sober men, and to the evident ruine of the Protestants in that kingdom, as well as of its greate improvement going on. Much dis-' course that all the White Staff officers and others should be dismiss' d for ad- hering to their religion. Popish Jus- tices of the Peace establish' d in all counties, of the meanest of the people ; Judges ignorant of the law and per- verting it — so furiously do the Jesuits drive, and even compel Princes to vio- lent courses, and destruction of an ex- cellent government both in Church and State. God of his infinite mercy open our eyes and turn our hearts, and es- tablish his truth with peace ! The Lord Jesus defend his little flock, and preserve this threatened Church and Nation. March 2nd. Came out a proclamation for uni- versal liberty of conscience in Scotland, and dispensation from all tests and lawes to the contrary, as also capacitat- ing Papists to be chosen into all offices of trust. The mysterie operates. March loth. Most of the greate oflicers, both in the court and country. Lords and others, were dismiss' d, as they would not promise his Majesty their consent to the repeal of the test and penal statutes against Popish Recusants. . . . This was a time of greate trial, but hardly one of them assented, which put the Popish interest much back- ward. April 15th, 16SS. The persecution still raging in France, multitudes of Protestants, and many very considerable and greate per- sons flying hither, produc'd a general contribution, the Papists, by God's Providence, as yet making small prog- ress amongst us. . . . May Sth. His Majesty, alarmed by the greate fleet of the Dutch (whilst we had a very inconsiderable one), went down to Chatham ; their fleete was well pre- par'd, and out, before we were in any readinesse, or had any considerable number to have encounter' d them had there ben occasion, to the great reproch of the nation ; whilst being in pro- found peace, there was a mighty land army, which there was no neede of, and no force at sea, where only was the apprehension ; but the army was doubt- less kept and increas'd in order to bring in and countenance Popery, the King beginning to discover his intentions, by many instances persued by the Jesuits, against his first resolution to altar noth- ing in the Church Establishment, so that it appear' d there can be no reli- ance on Popish promises. June Sth. This day the Archbishop of Canter- bury, with the Bishops of Ely, Chi- chester, St. Asaph, Bristol, Peterbor- ough, and Bath and Wells, were sent from the Privy Council prisoners to the Tower, for refusing to give baile for their appearance, on their not reading the declaration for liberty of conscience ; they refus'd to give baile, as it would have prejudic'd their peerage. The concern of the people for them was wonderfull, infinite crouds on their knees begging their blessing, and pray- ing for them as they pass'd out of the barge along the Tower wharf. i8o The Arbitrary Rule of James II. loth. A Toti7ig Prince borne, which will cause disputes- About 3 o'clock we heard the Tower ordnance discharg'd, and the bells ringing for the birth of a Prince of Wales. This was very sur- prizing, it having been universally given out that her Majesty did not look till the next moneth. June 29th. The trial [of the bishops] lasted from 9 in the morning to past 6 in the evening, when the Jury retired to con- sider of their verdict, and the Court adjourned to 9 the next morning. . . . The Chief Justice Wright behav'd with great moderation and civility to the Bishops. Alibone, a Papist, was strongly against them ; but Holloway and Powell, being of opinion in their favour, they were acquitted. When this was heard there was greate rejoic- ing ; and there was a lane of people from the King's Bench to the water side, on their knees, as the Bishops pass'd and repass' d, to beg their bless- ing. Bonfires were made that night, and bells rung, which was taken very ill at Court, and an appearance of neere 60 Earls and Lords, etc., on the bench, did not a little comfort them, but indeede they were all along full of comfort and cheerfull. Note, they denied to pay the Lieu- tenant of the Tower (Hales, who us'd them very surlily) any fees, alledging that none were due. Sept. 30th. The Court in so extraordinary a con- sternation on assurance of the Prince of Orange's intention to land, that the writs sent forth for a Parliament were recall' d. October 7th. Hourly expectation of the Prince of Orange's invasion heighten' d to that degree that his Majesty thought fit to abrogate the Commission for the dis- pensing power (but retaining hi-s own right still to dispense with all laws) and restore the ejected Fellows of Magda- len College, Oxford. In the mean time he called over 5000 Irish and 4000 Scots, and continued to remove Protes- tants and put in papists at Portsmouth and other places of trust, and retained the Jesuits about him, increasing the universal discontent. It brought peo- ple to so desperate a passe, that they seem'd passionately to long for and desire the landing of that Prince whom they look'd on to be their deliverer from Popish tyranny, praying incessantly for an east wind, which was said to be the only hindrance of his expedition with a numerous army ready to make a descent. To such a strange temper, and unheard-of in former times, w-as this poore nation reduc'd, and of which I was an eye-witness. The apprehen- sion was (and with reason) that his Majesty's forces would neither at land or sea oppose them with that vigour requisite to repel invaders. Oct. 14th. The King's birth-day. No gunns from the Tower as usual. The sun eclips'd at its rising. This day signal for the victory of William the Con- queror against Harold, near BatteJ in Sussex. The wind, which had been hitherto west, was east all this day. . . . Public prayers order' d to be read in the churches against inva- sion. ' /:////? ( ('/Y//// The Coming of William and Mary i8i GROUP XX. THE COMING OF WILLIAM AND MARY I. Speech of the Prince of Orange to his Dutch Estates. (In Ellis, Orig- inal Letters, Series II. Vol. IV. p. 140.) Hague, Oct. 13th, 16SS, Old Stile. My Lords : I am going to the navy to embark. I hope you do not take it ill that I do not make it known to you all where I am going. I will assure your Lordships, that what I am design- ing is for the good of the Protestant Religion in general and of your State in particular, as is not unknown to some among you. I will either succeed in it or spend my blood to the last drop. My Lords, your trust in me, and kindness to me at this time, is un- bounded ; if I live and make it not the business of my life to make your Lord- ships suitable returns for it, my God blast all my designs, and make me pass for the most ungrateful wretch that ever lived. Hcrr FageV s Answer by Order {tb.) Sir : iMy Lords the States are not at all displeased that you conceal from them your design ; they do repose an entire confidence in your Highness' conduct, zeal to the Protestant religion and affection to their State ; otherwise they would never have given you the absolute disposal of their navy, their armies, and their money. My Lord, the States wish you all the success in your designs, and have ordered a Public Fast, and Prayers to God, for your success through all their dominions ; and beg it of your Highness not to ven- ture your life and person unnecessarily, for though their navy and their army be the very sinews of their State, your person is more considerable to them than both. 2. Diary of Sir John Reresby. (Pub- lished in London, Longmans, 1S75.) August 25, 168S. I carried my wife and daughter to Windsor to wait on the Qiieen. The Court was in some trouble and the King [James II] out of humour (though he was always of so even a temper that it was hard to discover it) at the news of the Dutch having set out a great fleet as designed against us, that the French and the Dutch were to fall out, and that we were pressed on both sides to declare speedily which to take. This, considering our affairs at home — viz. the jealousies about religion, violent discontents about the army, and the ill time to call a Parliament to get money, did reasonably enough disturb our councils. The King the first thing he did was to declare that he would call a Parliament to meet the 27th of Novem- ber following, and gave several reasons for it in Council, relating to the good and satisfaction of the nation, more than the appi'ehension that he seemed to have for the Dutch. . . . October 10. The news of the Prince of Orange increased daily, as to his great fleet ready to sail. . . . Upon some discourse with the said Earl (Danby) at the dean's house, the 15th of October, he used these expressions: "We are in ill condi- tion now in this nation all ways, for if the King beat the prince, popery will return upon us with more violence than ever. If the prince beat the King, the Crown and the nation may be in some danger." All of which was not alto- gether untrue. 1 82 The Coming of William and Mary October 17th. ... It was very strange, and a cer- tain forerunner of the mischiefs that ensued upon this invasion, that neither the gentry nor common people seemed much afraid or concerned at it, saying, " The prince comes only to maintain the Protestant religion — he will do England no harm." On the other hand it was suggested from Court that he aimed at the Crown, and the Dutch, who assisted him, at the trade, of Eng- land. And the truth is, his own dec- laration when it came, which was a little before he landed himself, seemed suspicious enough ; for it set forth all the grievances of the nation with great a^sravations— as the King's intention to subvert the Government both in Church and State ; that he intended to root out the Protestant religion, to which purpose he had set up the dis- pensing power with the laws ; had moulded all the charters to his own mind, to the end he might have such members of Parliament chosen as he desired ; had examined and pre- engaged such as he intended for mem- bers in the matter of taking off the test and the penal laws ; and had, chiefly, put a feigned or supposititious Prince of Wales upon the nation, only to promote popery, and to defeat the Prince and Princess of Orange of their right of succession. 3. Extracts from Burnet. 16SS. . . . The prmce desired me to go along with him as his chaplain, to which I very readily agreed : for being fully satisfied in my conscience that the undertaking was lawfid and just, and having had a considerable hand in advis- ing the whole progress of it, I tlvnight it would have been an unbecoming fear in me to have taken care of my own person, when the prince was ven- turing his, and the whole was now to be put to hazard. It is true, I being a Scotish man by birth, had reason to expect, that, if I had fallen into the enemies hands, I should have been sent to Scotland, and put to the torture there. And, having this in prospect, I took care to know no particulars of any one of those who corresponded with the prince. So that knowing nothing against any, even torture it self could not have drawn from me that by which any person could be hurt. . . . At last, on the nineteenth of October, the prince went aboard, and the whole fleet sailed out that night. But the next day the v^^ind turned into the north, and settled in the north-west. At night a great storm rose. We wrought against it all that night, and the next day. But it was in vain to struggle any longer. And so vast a fleet run no small hazard, being obliged to keep together, and yet not to come too near one another. On the twenty-first in the afternoon the signal was given, to go in again: and on the twenty second the far greater part got safe into port. Many ships were at first wanting, and were believed to be lost. But after a few days all came in. . . . On the first of November, O. S., we sailed out with the evening tide. . . . On the third we passed between Dover and Calais, and before night came in sight of the Isle of Wight, . . , Tor- bay was thought the best place for our great fleet to lie in : and it w'as resolved to land the army, where it could be best done near it; reckoning, that being at such a distance from London, we could provide ourselves with horses, and put everything in order before the King could march his army towards us, and that we should lie some time at Exeter for the refreshing: our men. I The Coming of William and Mary 183 was in the ship, with the prince's other domestics, that went in tlie van of the whole fleet. ... A soft and happy gale of wind carried in the whole fleet . . . into Torbay. . . . As soon as the prince and marshal Schomberg got to shore, they were furnished with such horses as the village of Broxholme could afford ; and rode up to view the grounds, which they found as conven- ient as could be imagined for the foot in that season. It was not a cold night : otherwise the soldiers, who had been kept warm aboard, might have suffered much by it. As soon as I landed, I made what haste I could to the place where the prince was ; who took me heartily by the hand, and asked me, if I would not now believe predestina- tion. I told him, I would never forget that providence of God, which had ap- peared so signally on this occasion. He wr.s cheerfuller than ordinary. Yet he returned soon to his usual grav- ity. . . . All that belonged to us was so soon and so happily landed, that by the next day at noon w^e were in full march, and marched four miles that night. We had from thence twenty miles to Exeter. . . . The prince made haste to Exeter, where he stayed ten davs, both for refreshing his troops, and for giving the country time to shew their affections. Both the clergy and magistrates of Exeter were very fearful, and very backward. The bishop and the dean ran away. And the clergy stood off, though they were sent for, and very gently spoke to by the prince. . . . Yet care was taken to protect them and their houses every where : so that no sort of violence or rudeness was offered to any of them. The prince gave me full authority to do this : and I took so particular a care of it, that we heard of no complaints. . . . We stayed a week at Exeter, before any of the gentlemen of the country about came in to the prince. . . . One regi- ment came over in a body, and with them about a hundred of the other two. This gave us great courage ; and shewed us, that we had not been deceived in what was told us of the inclinations of the King's army. . . . The King wanted support : for his spirits sunk extremely. His blood was in such fer- mentation, that he w^as bleeding much at the nose, which returned oft upon him every day. He sent many spies over to us. They all took his money, and came and joined themselves to the prince. . . . And the body of the na- tion did every where discover their in- clinations for the prince so evidently, that the King saw he had nothing to trust to but his army. And the ill dis- position among them was so apparent, that he reckoned he could not depend on them. So that he lost both heart and head at once. 4. Extracts from Reresby. November 23. The day being come and the fatal one, I would not go to the common hall [in York, of which he was gov- ernor. — Ed.] where the meeting was appointed. Nor, indeed, was I very able, being ill bruised by my horse falling upon me as I came from home ; but I heard that, amongst about lOO gentlemen that met. Sir Henry Good- ricke spoke to this purpose, that there having been a great endeavour by the Government to bring popery into this kingdom of late years, and to invade the laws many ways, that there was no way to redress grievances of this and other natures but by a free Parliament ; and therefore this was the only time to petition the King for it. . . . When such a draft was finished as Sir Henry and his party approved of, though many that disliked it went away, they 184 The Coming of William and Mary began to sign ; and when Mr. Wortley Montagn and Sir Henry had done, before a third man could sign, Mr. Tankard runs into the hall and cries that the papists were risen, and had fired at the militia troops. At this all the gentlemen ran out, and those that were privy to the design got their horses, which were laid ready for them, as Sir Henr}^ Goodricke, Mr. Wortley Montague, Mr. Tankard, jMy Lord Danby, who w^as ready in his lodging expecting this feigned alarm, my Lord Dumblane, his son, my Lord Willoughby, two Mr. Berties, my Lord Lumley, my Lord Horton, and several others, who made a party with their servants of a hundred horse, well armed and well mounted, rode up to the four militia troops drawn up for another purpose, and cried for a free Parliament, the Protestant religion and no popery. The captains of these four troops were Lord Fairfax, Sir Thomas Gower, Mr. Robinson, and Captain Tankard, who, being made privy to the design only the night before, but men ready enough in their tempers for such an action, complied, and led all their men to join with them. The first step they made was to the place where the guard of the standing company was kept, consisting of about twenty men, which they surprised, before I had the least notice or jealousy of such an at- tempt, nor believing it possible that men of such quality and estates, how- ever dissatisfied, would engage in a design so desperate, and so contrary to the laws of the land and the religion which they professed. As soon as I heard of it I sent for the officers and the guard, but found it was surprised. I then sent to every captain to bring his troop to me as the King's governor, as also to the other guard of foot of the militia, who all denied to march or to obey orders. I then sent for my horses, and as I was preparing to go to the troops, hoping to regain them to the King's service if I appeared. Sir Henry Bellasis, who had commanded a regi- ment in Holland under the prince, and lurked long here in Yorkshire for his service, drew up a party of thirty horse before my door, and there prevented my going out, till my lord of Danby w^ith his chief companions, came up to me. My lord told me that to resist was to no purpose ; that he and these gentle- men were in arms for a free Parlia- ment, and for the preservation of the Protestant religion and the government, as by law established, wdiich the King had very near destroyed, and which tlie Prince of Orange w^as come to assist them to defend, and that he hoped I would join them in so good a design. I told him I was for a Parliament and the Protestant religion as well as they, but I was also for the King. He re- plied that he was so too, and therefore he hoped that as w^e agreed in princi- ples so we should agree in action. I told his lordship that, though we agreed in the matter, I could not agree with them in the manner. I did not con- ceive anything ought to be exacted from the King by any manner of force, and that particularly, having his Maj- esty's commissioner of governor and for his service, I could not join with those that acted against his authority and commission, let the consequence be what it would. He then said he must imprison me. I told him I was naked, and my friends had relinquished the King's service and me, and I was in his power. After they had consid- ered together, he told me he knew me to be a man of honour, that my en- gagement not to stir nor write was as good a restraint upon me as a guard or a prison. So I was only confined upon honour to my room, recommending, The Coming of William and Mary 185 however, to me to consider of his offer. After this the same day they secured all the gates, set strong guards upon them, and suffered none to go in or out. November 26th. Having made it my request to the Earl of Danby that I might have leave to be prisoner at my house in the coun- try, where I would engage not to act, but to acquiesce and abide a true pris- oner, he sent for me to come and dine with him. At my coming he told me, that I might eat my dinner the better upon the said terms, I should have leave to go where I pleased. v Letters from an unknown Corres- pondent to John Ellis, Esq., at Dublin. (In Ellis, Series II. Vol. IV. p. 157.) London, Nov. 23rd, 16SS. I had yours of the 23rd past and thank vou in the name of the Kingdom for the quiet repose you promised us this winter ; but by the last Easterly wind you would find we are not to €njoy such sweet sleeps as you wish us, for the Army 27000 strong will be able to offer battle by Tuesday next on Salis- bury Plains, and our imperial Monarch at the head of them, where my person (amongst his faithful subjects) intend to stick by him. I am like to be well paid for my pains, but cannot at this instant tell the value, but it is no part ■of the reason of my going : though I can (to my sorrow) say wdiy milk-asses are provided for. . . . 27. Nov, Yesterday between four and five ot the clock the King came to Whitehall, and looks very well. We hear by some of his company that Prince George, the Dukes of Grafton . . . and very manv others of note are gone to the Prince of Orange's army . . . but wdiat is at least as bad news as this, is, that ves- terdav morning when the Princess of Denmark's (James's daughter, later Qiieen Anne) women went to take her out of her bed they found she had with- drawn herself, and hath not yet been heard of. Nobody went in her com- pany that we hear of besides Lady Churchill and Airs. Berkeley. 6. Letter left behind l)y Princess Anne for the Queen. In Ellis, p. 166.) Ivladam : I beg your pardon if I am so deeply affected with the surprising news of the Prince's (of Denmark) being gone as not to be able to see you, but to leave this paper to express my humble dutv to the King and yourself ; and to let you know that I am gone to absent myself to avoid the King's dis- pleasure, which I am not able to bear, either against the Prince or myself : and I shall stay at so great a distance as not to return before I hear the happy news of a reconcilement : and, as I am con- fident the Prince did not leave the King with any other design than to use all possible means for his preservation, so I hope you will do me the justice to believe that I am incapable of follow- ing him for any other end. Never was any one in such an unhapjDy con- dition, so divided between dutv and af- fection to a father and an husband ; and therefore I know not what I must do, but to follow one to preserve the other. I see the general falling off of the nobil- ity and gentry, \vho avow to have no other end than to prevail with the King to secure their religion, which they saw so much in danger by the violent coun- sels of the Priests, who, to promote their own religion, did not care to what dangers they exposed the King. I am fully persuaded that the Prince of Orange designs the King's safety and preservation, and hope all things may be composed without more blood- shed, by the calling of a Parliament. 1 86 The Coming of William and Mary God grant au happy end to these troubles, that the King's reign may be prosperous, and that I may shortly meet you in perfect peace and safety ; till when, let me beg of you to continue the same favorable opinion that you have hitherto had of Your most obedient daughter and servant Anne. Reresb v' s ^Icuioirs — contutiied. December i . I got to Thrybergh with my horses and arms without any disturbance, and I thank God I left York without any clamor or reflection upon me in the least in the matter of my command. December 3rd. Kingston-upon-IIull — that consider- able garrison, and looked upon as one of the strongest in England, both for the citadel, its situation and number of men — was surprised by Mr. Copley, lieutenant governor . . . and the sol- diers joining in the treachery, they declared for the Prince, and the Protes- tant religion, giving immediately notice to the gentlemen at York what was done. If such places as this revolted, it was no wonder that York could not be kept. ... In that part of York- shire where I lived very few gentlemen continued firm to the King ; nor, indeed, in any part of the North of England. 7. Letter of Lord Dartmouth to James II. (In nth Report of Royal MSS. Commission, Appendix 5.) Dec. 3, 16SS. Aboard the Resolution at Spitthead. . . . As ... a faithful servant subject and councellor, I beg leave to advise you and to give you my humble opinion that sending away the Prince of Wales without the consent of the nation is at no time advisable, and therefore the doinir it at this time es- pecially, and that to France, being what I dread will be of fatal consequence to your person, crowne and dignity, and all your people will (too probably) grow so much concerned at this your great mistrust as to throw off their bounden allegiance to you, which God forbid ; wherefore, pray. Sir, consider farther on this weightie point, for can the Prince's being sent to France have other prospect then the entaileing a perpetuall warre upon your nation and posterity, and giving France always a temptation to molest, invade, nay haz- ard the conquest of England, which I hope in God never to see, but that we may have this prince of your own loines to rule over us. . . . Pardon me, there- fore. Sir, that I most earnestly implore vou not to make me the unhappy in- strument of so apparent ruine to your Majestie, and my countrey as an act of this kinde will be. . . . I^etters to John Ellis — contimied. Dec. II, 16SS. Dear Friend : I am now to tell you that the Qiieen and Prince of Wales went down the River yesterday morn- ing, and 'tis believed gone for France, and the King went this morning about the same time ; I hear hardly anybody with him. God preserve him in health. But here all people are wondering. The Prince of Orange will be in Ox- ford this night. The people in the city are searching all Roman Catholic houses for arms and ammunition : and this day they are about the Strand and other places. The Duke of Northumberland has put out all Papists out of his Troop of Guards, and so they say they will out of all the army. The King's party, which I hear was Colonel Butler's dra- goons, and the Prince's, had a skirmish. 'Tis said about fifty of the King's were killed. . . . This night I was fright- ened with the wonderful liirht in the The Coming of William and Mary 187 sky, and 'twas the rabble had gotten the wainscot and seats of a Popish Chapel in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and set it on fire in the middle of it. Until we knew what it was we guessed it to be a great fire. Here is a very great guard, both militia and the army. You will hear very suddenly all declaring for the Prince of Orange. . . . My wife and all in St. James's send hearty service to you. I hope I may see you in the Spring. God send us a good meeting. Dec. 13, 168S. . . . On Tuesdav night there was an alarm, occasioned by burning the Pa- pist's Lincoln's Inn Field's Chapel; they did the like to the Chapels of St. John's Clerkenwell, and Lime-street, but not easily breaking into the latter, cried they would down with it, were it as strong as Portsmouth, and, accord- ingly, having levelled them, they car- ried all the trumpery in mock proces- sion and triumph, with oranges on the tops of swords and staves, with great lighted candles in gilt candlesticks, thus victoriously passing of the Guards that were drawn up. Antl after having be- queathed these trinkets to the flames, they visited Harry Hill's Printing House^ which they served in like man- ner. But, what is most ungrateful, their execution reaching to the Spanish Ambassador's house, which they plun- dered of all its rich furniture, plate, money, and three coaches, to the value as is computed of £20,000. . . . The King is said to have left a Paper behind him directed to the Earl of Feversham, for him to disband the army, which his Lordship read at the head of most regi- ments, and accordingly disbanded them, some with, others without their arms, and it is dismal to think what will be- come of such vast numbers of poor wretches, if the Prince's mercy and the people's compassion be not extraordi- nary. . . . The Prince is expected in town to-morrow. About two this morning an alarm was spread through city and suburbs, of Rise, Arme, Arme, the Irish are cutting throats ; in so much that in half an hour's time there was an appearance of above an hundred thousand men to have made head against any enterprise of that nature ; all the windows of the houses being lighted with candles from top to bot- tom ; but these terrors were quickly over, upon notice that the Prince of Orange's advance-guard was near the town. Lord Dartviouth to Lord F'cvershain. Dec. 14. I received your Lordship's and can- not wonder at the consternation your Lordship is in, for my owne heart has been allmost breaking. Oh God, what could make our master desert his king- doms and his friends, certainely nobody could be so villainous as to hurt his person ; it cannot be the effect of his owne thoughts, but of womanish or timorous councells. God Almighty protect him and direct him to happier measures. I am sure his owne heart cannot meane him better than I do. . . . I and my family are the miserablest creatures His Majestie hath left behind. I am worthy nobody's thoughts, but tho' I am unfortunate yett I am, etc. Lord Dartmouth to James II. Dec. 17. It is impossible for me to express the griefe and anxious cares I am in for your Majestic, and the newes of your withdrawing was the greatest surprise of my life, for I did humbly hope my dutyfull supplications to your Majestie would with your owne considerate thoughtes have wholly altered your intentions of sending away the Prince of Wales, and did thinke it impossible i88 The Coming of William and Mary ever to enter into anybody's thoughts that had the least inclination of duty to your Majestie to give you so pernicious and desti-uctive council as to go away vourselfe, and if your Majestie had been drove to such a desperate course (which was morally impossible, at least in my thoughts) as to absent yourselfe, Sir, could you have been with more honour and safety [any where than in] your owne fleet, who would always unanimously (I dare say) have pro- tected and defended your sacred person from any violence or unhallowed hands. But this looks like so great mistrust of me that many could witness it hath almost broke my heart. Your Majestie knows what condition you left the fleet in, and me in the most unsupportable calamity of my ife what could I do but send to the Prince of Orange when I found the whole nation did, and receive orders from the Lords which were communicated to the fleet and removed all Roman Catholic Ofli- cers. I have had yett no returne from the Prince of Orange, but I hope all w\\\ end in your Majestie' s happy re- establishment. Mr. Pepys will ac- quaint your Majestie with the state of the fleet. Letters to John Ellis. Dec. iS. . . . Last night the King went off from Court, and this day about three o'clock the Prince arrived at St. James's with great acclamations of joy and huzzas. The Gentleman that writeth the News Letters being indisposed desires to be excused for writing not this day. Dec. 20th. The Prince of Orange remains at St. James's, where no great business were done yesterday by reason of paying and receiving visits; only a regiment was sent to possess themselves of the Tower ; most of the Bishops about the town were with his Highness; the Duke of Norfolk came and paid his devoirs. The Prince in the afternoon went to Whitehall, and from thence, in the Qiieen's barge, to Somerset House to compliment the Qjieen Dowager. In his return hearing that the Prince and Princess of Denmark were come to town, he called to see them at the Cock-pit. . . . S. Letter of James II. to the Lords Spiritual and Temporal. (In the i2th Report, 6th Appendix, of the Royal MSS. Commission.) Rochester, Dec. 22nd, 16S8. iSIy Lords . . . The world cannot wonder at my withdrawing myself now this second tyme. I might have ex- pected somewhat better usage after what I writ to the Prince of Orange by my Lord Feversham and the instruc- tions I gave him. But instead of an answer what was I not to expect after the usage I receaved by making the said Earl a Prisoner against the Prac- tice and law of nations? The sending his own guards at eleven at night to take possession of the Posts at White- hall without advertizing me in the least manner of it. The sending to me at one a 'clock after midnight, w'hen I was in bed, a kind of an order by three Lords to be gone out of myne own Palace before twelve that same morning. After all this, how could I hone to be safe, so long as I was in the power of one, who had not only done this to me, and invaded my kingdomes without any just occasion given hiin for it, but that did by his first declaration lay the greatest aspersion upon me that malice could invent in that clause of it which con- cerns my son .'' I appeal to all that know me, nay even to himself that in their consciences neither he nor they can beleeve me in the least capable of The Coming of William and Mary 189 so unnatural a villany, nor of so little common sense. . . . What had I then to expect from one who by all arts hath taken such pains to make me appear as black as hell to my own people as well as to all the world besydes? What effect that hath had at home all mankind have seen by so general a defection in my army, as well as in the nation amongst all sorts of people. I was born free and desire to con- tinue so, and though I have ventured, my lyfe very frankly on severall occa- sions, for the good and honour of my country . . . yet I think it not con- venient to expose myself to be secured so as not to be at liberty to effect it. . . . Letters to John Ellis. Dec. 39th. . . . The King landed on Tuesday morning near Marques and went post to Paris on Wednesday. I cannot see who your government will fall to ; 1 think neither our friend nor the pert pretender. ... I know not what will be my lot, but I am vain enough to think in a general bustle I shall shift for one. You will pardon me that I say no more. Rcresb v' s Memoirs. Januaj'y 22nd. I went to Mansfield, and the next day went thence for London in the hackney coach. When I arrived I found London much changed. The guards and other parts of the army, which both in their persons and gal- lantry were an ornament to the town, were sent to quarter ten miles off, and the streets were* filled with ill-look- ing and ill-habited Dutch and other strangers of the prince's army ; and yet the city was so pleased with their de- liverers that thev did not or would not perceive their deformity, nor the op- pression they lay under, which was much greater than what they felt from the English army, . . . Feb. 3rd. I saw the Duke of Somerset, the- Earl of Burlington, the Earl of Scars- dale and some other lords who had all been active to bring in the prince, speak in another strain. Some said the thing was gone further than they expected, others that they never be- lieved the prince would contend for the crown ; and all were of opinion the crown ought to be set on the princess's head, and so to descend in its right course. The Earl of Scarsdale told me the Princess of Denmark was very sensible wdiat a mistake she had com- mitted in leaving her father to join the prince, who was now endeavoring to invade her right, and to get priority of succession before her. 9. Extracts from Evelyn. Jan. 15th, 16SS-9. The greate Convention [of bishops] being assembled the day before, falling upon the question about the Govern- ment, resolved that King James having by the advice of the Jesuits and other wicked persons endeavour' d to subvert the laws of Church and State, and deserted the kingdom, carrying away the seals etc. without any care for the management of the government, had by demise abdicated himself and wholly vacated his right ; they did therefore desire the Lords concurrence to their vote, to place the crown on the next heir, the Prince of Orange, for his life, then to the Princesse his wife, and if she died without issue, to the Prin- cesse of Denmark, and she failing, to the heirs of the Prince, excluding for- ever all possibility of admitting a Roman Catholic. 190 The Coming of William and Mary Feb. 6th. The King's coronation day was ordered not to be observed, as hitherto it had ben. The Convention of the Lords and Commons now declare the Prince and Princess of Orange King and Qiieene of England, France, and Ireland, (Scotland being an independent king- dom,) the Prince and Princesse being to enjoy it jointly during their lives, but the executive authority to be vested in the Prince during life, tho' all pro- ceedings to run in both names, artd that it should descend to their issue, and for want of such, to the Princesse Anne of Denmark and her issue, and in want of such, to the heirs of the body of the Prince if he survive, and that failing, to devolve to the Parliament as they should think fit. . . . There was much contest about the King's abdication, and whether he had vacated the govern- ment. The Earle of Nottingham and about twenty Lords, and many Bishops entered their protests, but the concur- rence was greate against them. The Princess hourly expected. Forces sending to Ireland, that king- dom being in greate danger by the Earle of Tyrconnell's army, and expectations from France coming to assist them, but that King was busy in invading Flanders, and encounter- ing the German Princes. It is likely that this will be the most remarkable summer for action, which has hap- pened for many years. Rcrcsby. Feb. nth. . . . The oaths of allegiance and supremacy were then desired by the Houses to be suppressed, and these two were framed to be taken in their stead : "I, A. B., do sincerely promise and swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to their Majesties King William and Qiieen Mary. So help me God." For the second, thus: — " I, A. B., do swear that I do from my heart abhor, detest, and abjure as impious and heretical that damnable doctrine and position that princes excommunicated or deprived by the Pope or anv authority of the see of Rome, may be deposed or murdered, by their subjects or any other whatso- ever ; and I do declare that no foreign prince, person, prelate or state hath, or ought to have any jurisdiction, power, superiority, pre-eminence or authority, ecclesiastical or civil, within this realm. So help me God." April nth was the day of the coronation of King William and Queen Marv, performed with great splen- dor according to the usual ceremo- nies. The procession to the abbey of Westminster was very regular, but not attended by so many of the nobility as when the two last kings were crowned. The House of Commons were taken great care of in this solem- nitv, had a side of Westminster Hall prepared for them to see it, another place in the abbey to see their Majesties crowned, and several tables prepared and covered with all sorts of meat, where they dined by themselves. Only some friends were admitted amongst them, and I amongst others, which gave me a good opportunity to see and observe all. The Bishop of London crowned the King and Qiieen, assisted by the Bishop of Salisbury (the late Dr. Burnet), who preached the Coro- nation sermon, and by two others. May 5th. . . . The next day I was to go to Hampton Court to meet his lordship, to present me to the King before I went into the countrv ; and he repeated his promises of doing for me what he could, but said it was discretion to let The Coming of William and Mary 191 two or three montlis pass before I pressed the thing too much, to see what became of things. (On the i2th of May, Sir John Reresby died.) Evelyn . Feb. 3 1 St, 16SS-9. Dr. Burnett preach' d 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 ne~v ^iteene and King proclaim' d the very next day after her. coming to Whitehall, Wedner,day 13 Feb., with greate acclamation and gen- erall good reception. Bonfires, bells, guns, etc. It was believ'd that both, especially the Princesse, would, have shew'd some (seeming) reluctance at least, of assuming her father's Crown, and made some apology, testitying by her regret that he should by his mis- management necessitate the Nation to so extraordinary a proceeding, which would have shew'd very handsomely to the world, and according to the character given of her piety ; conso- nant also to her husband's first declara- tion, that there was no intention of deposing the King, but of succouring the Nation ; but nothing of all this appear' d; 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 imdresse, as it was reported, before her women were up, went about from roome to roome to see the convenience of White-hall ; lay in the same bed and apartment where the late Qiieene lay, and within a night or two sate downe to play at basset, as the Qiieene, her predecessor, used to do. She smil'd upon and talk'd to every body, so that no change seem'd to have taken place at Court since her last going away, save that infinite crowds of peo- ple throng' d to see her, and that she went to our prayers. This carriage was censur'd by many. She seems to be of a good nature, and that she takes nothing to heart : whilst the Prince her husband has a thoughtful counte- nance, is wonderfull serious and silent, and seems to treat all persons alike gravely, and to be very intent on af- faires : 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 proclaim'd him Regent ; but the major part of both Houses prevail' d to make them King and Qiieene immediately, and a Crowne was tempting. Extract from Burjiet. 16SS. All things \vere now made ready for filling the throne. And the very night before it was to be done, the princess arrived safely. It had been given out, that she was not well pleased with the late transaction, both with relation to her father, and to the present settle- ment. Upon which the prince wrote to her, that it was necessary she should appear at first so cheerful, that nobody might be discouraged by her looks, or be led to apprehend that she was un- easy by reason of what had been done. This made her put on a great air of gaiety when she came to Whitehall, and, as may be imagined, had great crowds of all sorts coming to wait on her. I confess, I was one of those that cen- sured this in my thoughts. I thought a little more seriousness had done as well, when she came into her father's palace, and was to be set on his throne next day. I had never seen the least indecency in any part of her deport- 192 The Coming of William and Mary ment before : which made this appear to me so extraordinary, that some days after I took the liberty to ask her, how it came that what she saw in so sad a revohition, as to her father's person, made not a greater impression on her. She took this freedom with her usual goodness. And she assured me, she felt the sense of it very lively upon her thoughts. But she told me, that the letters which had been writ to her had obliged her to put on a cheerfulness, in which she might perhaps go too far, because she was obeying directions, and acting a part which was not very natural to her. GROUP XXI. THE STUARTS IN EXILE. I. Letters of Madame de Scvigne. Vol. 7. (Edition in English, London, 181 1 . 7^//c passages hi brackets from the latest French Edition.^ Paris, Nov. 8, 16S8. This is the day, my dear child, on which you are to begin your journey ; we follow you step by step. . . . The chevalier is much better. It is painful to reflect that the weather which agrees with him, is precisely what may de- throne the King of England ; whereas he suffered dreadfully a few days ago, when the wind and tempests were dis- persing the fleet of the prince of Orange : he is unhappy at not being able to make his health accord with the good of Europe ; for the sentiment of joy is universal at the failure of the prince, whose wife is a perfect Tullia : ah, how boldly would she drive over the body of her father ! She has em- powered her husband to take possession of the kingdom of England, of which she calls herself the heiress ; and if her husband is killed, for her imagination is not very delicate, M. de Schomberg is to take possession of it for herself. What say you to a hero, who so sadly disgraces the close of a glorious life? lie saw the admiral's ship sink in which he was to have embarked ; and as the prince and he were the last in following the fleet, which was under weigh in the tinest weather possiljle, they were obliged, by a tremendous- storm that suddenly arose, to return to port, the prince being very much indis- posed with his asthma, and M. de Schomberg as much vexed. Only twenty-six sail returned with them : the rest were all dispersed, some towards Norway, others towards Boulogne. ... A vessel armed enjlute, in which were nine hundred men, sunk in sight of the prince of Orange. ( ?) In short, the hand of God is visible on this fleet : many ships may return, but it will be long before they will be able to do any mischief. . . . This is certainly a stroke of Providence. I need not say so much to you of this great news, for the papers are full of it ; but as we are so too, and as we can talk of nothing else, it flows naturally from my pen. Paris, Jan. 10, 1689. The abbe Tetu is in an alarming way for want of sleep. . . . We want him to go to Versailles to see the king and queen of England, and the prince of Wales. Can there be a grander spectacle, or one more capable of affording the highest interest? It appears that the prince of Orange favoured the king's flight. The king was sent to Exeter, where it was his- intention to go ; the front of his house was well guarded, and all the back- doors left open. The prince was not \lAli\ P.I \1RI\ i^riKN OK F.>fGI.AND SCOTLA^M) F RANCK AM> 1 RELAYS I) RORN l»HINr»'.S OF Moi>VN\ The Stuarts in Exile 19 J inclined to sacrifice his father-in-law ; he remains in London in the place of the King, without taking upon himself the title, being only desirous of restor- ing what he thinks the true religion, and supporting the laws of the country, without spilling a drop of blood : this is precisely the reverse of what we thought of him ; we see him in a very different point of view. Our king however acts in a manner almost divine with respect to their Britannic majesties ; for is it not being the repre- sentative of the Almighty, to support a king banished, betrayed, and aban- doned? The noble ambition of our sovereign is gratified by acting this part ; he went to meet the queen, with all his household, and a hundred coaches and six. When he perceived the prince of Wales's carriage, he alighted and [would not let this little child, who is beautiful as an angel, they say, dismount ; he] affectionately embraced him ; he then ran to the queen, who was by this time alighted ; he saluted her, talked with her some time, placed her at his right hand in his carriage, and presented the dauphin and Monsieur to her, who were also in tlie carriage, and conducted her to St. Germain, where she found everything prepared for her like a queen, all sorts of apparel, and a rich casket containing six thousand louis-d'ors. The king of England was expected the next day at St. Germain, where the king waited for him ; he arrived late [because he came from Versailles] : his majesty went to the end of the guard-room to meet him ; the king of England made an inclination, as if to embrace his knees, but the king prevented him and embraced him three or four times very cordially. They talked together in a low voice for nearly a quarter of an hour; the king presented the dauphin and jMonsieur to him, the princes of the blood, and cardinal de Bonzi. He conducted him to the queen's apart- ment, who could scarcely refrain from tears ; after a conversation of a few minutes his majesty led them to the apartment of the prince of Wales, where they again conversed for some time, and he then withdrew, not choos- ing to be attended back, saying to the king, "This is your house; when 'I come you will do the honours of it, and I will do the honours of mine when you come to Versailles." The next day, which was yesterday, the dau- phinness went there with all the court. [I know not how they will have managed with the chairs for the princesses ; they had them at the wed- ding of the Qiieen of Spain] ; and the queen-mother of England was treated as a daughter of France; I shall [find out and] send you these particulars. His majesty sent the king of England ten thousand louis-d'ors, the latter looks old and fatigued; the queen is thin, with fine black eyes swelled with weeping; a fine complexion but rather pale; a large mouth, beautiful teeth, a fine figure, and a great share of sense; no wonder if with all these slie pleases every one who beholds her. Here [my sweet one] is matter for general, conversation that will not soon be exhausted. . . . Jan. I 2th, 16S9. . . . To oome to the king and queen of England. It is so extraordinary to have this court here, that it is the con- stant subject of conversation. The regulation of rank and precedency is to be attended to, in order to render life agreeable to those who are so un- likely to be restored. This the king said the other day, adding, that the English king was the best man in the world; that he should hunt with him; that he should come to Marli and Tri- anon ; and that the courtiers should 194 The Stuarts in Exile habituate themselves to hhn. The king of Enghuid does not give his hand to the dauphin, and does not reconduct him. The ([ucen has not kissed Monsieur, who is offended at this; she said to the king, "Tell me what you v^Msh me to do ; if you would have me follow the French fashion, I will salute whom you please ; but it is not the custom in England to salute any one." She paid a visit to the dauphiness, who was ill, and who re- ceived her in bed. No one sits in England ; I believe the duchesses will follow the French fashion, and behave to her as they did to her mother-in-law [Henrietta Maria]. We are greatly taken up with this new court. . . . Jan. 14th, 16S9. . . . Madame de Maintenon is much pleased with the comedy which she has made her young ladies of St. Cyr perform ; it will be a very line piece according to report. She has paid a visit to the Qiieen of England, who, having made her wait a moment, said she was very sorry she had lost any time in seeing and conversing with her, and receiveil her extremely well. Every one is pleased with this queen ; she has an excellent understanding. She said to the king, on seeing him caress the prince of Wales, who is a lovely child, "I formerly envied the happiness of my son, in not feeling his misfortunes; Init I ncnv pity him, for being insensible to your majesty's ca- resses and kindness." All she says is proper and to the purpose ; but this is not the case with her husband : he has a great share of courage, but his un- derstanding is not above the common standard ; he relates w hat has passed in England witli an insensibility that excites the same feeling for himself. He is a good man [" what a good man," said the Archbishop of Rheims ; " he has given up three kingdoms for one mass." — Ed.], and partakes of all the amusements of Versailles. The dauphiness does not intend to visit this queen ; she wants her right-hand seat and chair of state, which cannot be ; she will therefore be always in bed, when the queen visits her. Madame is to have an arm-chair upon the left hand, and the princesses of the blood are to visit with her ; before whom they have tabourets only. The duch- esses will be upon the same footing as at the dauphiness's ; this is settled. The king, knowing that a king of France gave a prince of Wales only a chair on the left hand, chooses that the king of England should treat the dauphin in the same manner, and pre- cede him. He is to receive Monsieur without chair or ceremony. The queen has saluted him, saying to our sover- eign what I told you. It is not yet certain that M. de Schomberg is to succeed the prince of Orange in Hol- land. This is a year of falsehoods. . . . Jan. 17, 16S9. Tliis English court is quite estab- lished at St. Germain. They would not accept more than 15,000 livres a month, and have regulated their court upon that foundation. The queen is very much liked ; our king converses very pleasantly with her ; she has good sense without affectation. The king wished the dauphiness to pav her the first visit, but she was always so con- veniently indisposed, that this queen paid her a visit three days ago, ad- mirably dressed ; a black velvet robe, a beautiful petticoat, her hair tastefully disposed, a figure like the princess de Conti's, and great dignity of manner. The king received her as she alighted ; she went first into his apartment where she had a chair below the king's; here she remained half an hour; he then conducted her to the dauphiness, who was up ; this occasioned a little sur- The Stuarts in Exile 195 prise; the queen said to her, "I expected to have found you in bed, madam." "I wished to rise, madam," replied the dauphiness, "to receive the honour your majesty does me." The king left them, as the dauphiness has no chair in his presence. The queen took her place, with the dauphiness on her right hand, Madame on her left, and there were three other chairs for the young princes. They conversed together for upwards of half an hour ; several duchesses were present, and the court was ver}- numerous. At length she retired ; the king gave orders to be informed of it, and handed her back to her carriage. I do not know how far the dauphiness went with her, but I shall hear. The king, upon his re- turn, highly praised the queen ; he said, " This is how a queen ought to be, both in person and mind, holding her court with dignity," He admired her courage in misfortunes, and her affection for her husband ; for it is certain, that she loves him, as that hate- ful woman, madame de R., told you. Some of our ladies, who wished to assume the airs of princesses, did not kiss the queen's robe, some of the duchesses wished to avoid it also ; but the king was displeased at this, and thev now pay her homage. Madame -de Chaulnes has been informed of these particulars, but has not yet performed this duty. She left the marquis at Versailles, the young gentleman being very highly amused there ; he has in- formed his uncle that he should go to-day to the ballet. . . . Jan. 26. I am . . . truly of opinion, that the king and queen of England are better off at St. Germain, than in their perfidi- ous kingdom. The king of England calls M. de Lauzun his governor ; but he governs no one else, and is not much in favour. Their majesties have only accepted of what the king would have given them, fifty thousand livres a month, and will not live like sovereigns ; many English are come over to them, or they would not have accepted so much ; in short, they wish to pursue a plan that may last. They have reminded me of mv dear romances ; but a little intrigue is wanting. Jan. 31, 16S9. Madame de Chaulnes has seen the queen of England, with whom she is greatly pleased ; the little prince was dressed like a puppet ; he is handsome and lively, and is continually dancing in his nurse's arms: these are the truly happy davs of infancy. The histoi-ies which v^e read over again on account of this event, are replete with the perfidy of the people. The prince of Orange is not quite at his ease in London, there being three parties : that of the king and the bishops which is very w^eak ; that of the prince of Orange, which is veiy strong ; and a third consisting of republicans and non-confoi'mists. All Ireland is in the interest of the king ; he would have done well to have escaped thither : he is not so much liked as the queen. He calls M. de Lauzun his master ; the master stands in great need of one himself. . . . Feb. 2nd, 1689. . . . The queen of England seems more inclined, if it pleased God, to reign in the -beautiful kingdom of Eng- land, where the court is numerous and splendid, than to be at St. Germain, though overwhelmed with the heroic bounties of our monarch. As to the king of England, he seems contented there, and it is for that reason he is there. Extract from the Memoirs of James II. (In Macpherson, Original Papers, Vol. I. p 257.) I thank thee O God, for all the favours which thou hast done me ; and 196 The Stuarts in Exile particularly for having saved me from the hands of the rebellious parricides, who put to death the King, my father. . . . For having re-established the King my brother in his kingdoms, and for having recovered me from the small- pox, which some years before had carried off some of the royal family. For having given me such good health and patience to suffer so many injuries, and for having preserved me till now from all the snares of my enemies. For having touched my heart with a true sense of my past sins and a regret for them ; a favour which I beseech God to continue to me; and to augment in me day by day a detestation of my faults. And above all I thank God for having opened my eyes and converted me to the true church. I humbly acknowledge that I have justly deserved all the afflictions and mortifications which it hath pleased God to send upon me ; and that I would deserve still greater, considering the magnitude and multitude of my sins. Madame dc Sivig)ie. Feb. 23, 16S9. . . . That madman, the prince of Orange, is elected king, and has been crowned : the contrary report prevailed a week ago ; but thus it is with the English. Feb. 25, 16S9. . . . The King of England [James] is going over to Ireland ; this, at least, is the report : but I vouch for notliing thisvear; it is tlie harvest of lies. . . . Feb. 2S. ... It is certain that the king of England set out this morning for Ire- land, where he is expected witli im- patience : he will be better there than here. He will traverse Britany with the swiftness of lightning; and go straight to Brest, where he will find marshal d'Estrees, and ships and frigates- ready : he takes with him 50,000 crowns. The King has given him sutficient arms for 10,000 men. As his Britannic majesty took leave, he said with a smile, " That arms for himself were the only tilings that had been forgotten:" our king gave him his : the heroes of romance never did anything more gal- lant than this action. What will not this brave but unhappy king do, with arms that have ever been victorious? Behold him then with the casque and cuirass of Rinoldo and Amadis, and all our most celebrated knights errant ; I will not say of Hector, for he was un- fortunate. There is not an offer that can be suggested, that our king has not made him ; generosity and magnanimity have been carried to their height. M. d'Avaux is to go with him ; he set out two days ago. You will ask why M. de Barillon was not the person. The reason is, that M. d'Avaux, being per- fectly acquainted with the affairs of Holland, will be more useful than he who is acquainted only with those of England. The queen has shut herself up at Poissi with her son : she will be near the king, and the fountain-head of intelligence. She is overwhelmed with grief, and suffers from a nephritic com- plaint, that makes it feared she has the stone : she is really to be pitied. You see, my dear child, it is the rage of talk- ing, that makes me write all this ; the chevalier and the gazette will give you better information than I can do. . . . The King of England yesterday in- vested M. de Lauzun with the order of the garter; a kind of oath was read, which constitutes the ceremony ; the king placed his collar on the other side of ours, and a St. George, that he had from the late King his father, which is set with diamonds, and worth at least 10,000 crowns. While the King of England was at Mademoiselle's, M. de The Stuarts in Exile 197 Lauzun went to Madame de la Fayette's with this ornament ; Madame de la Fayette gazed at the blue ribbon, and as she knew he had not that of France, she did not comprehend this masquer- ade ; she was silent upon the subject and so was he. At length he began to laugh, and told her what had passed. The King of England, must, however, think himself obliged to him, since he treats him so well. . . . The Irish busi- ness goes on admirably, and so com- pletely occupies the prince of Orange', that there is nothing to fear upon our coasts. . . . March 2, 16S9. . . . The chevalier will inform 30U what our King said to the King of England at his taking leave : " Sir, it is with grief I see you depart ; yet I never wish to see you again: but if you return, be assured you will find me the same as you leave me." Could any- thing better have been said .'' He has loaded him with everything great and small ; two millions of money, ships, frigates, troops, officers, and M. d' Avaux, who makes, upon the occasion, one of the most brilliant figures in the world. ... I now come to the minu- tiae, such as toilets, camp-beds, services of plate, plain and gilt, arms for his person, which are the King's ; arms for the troops in Ireland, and those who go with him, who are very numerous ; in short, generosity, magnificence, and magnanimity, were never so strikingly displayed as upon this occasion. The King is not willing that the queen should go to Poissi ; she will see very little company ; but the King will take care of her, and she will receive news without intermission. The parting of the King and queen of England rent the hearts of all the spectators ; nothing but tears, sighs, lamentations, and swoonings were to be seen or heard. which is very easy to be comprehended. Such is his destiny ; he has a good cause ; he is the protector of the true religion, and his courage will allow him no other alternative than conquest or death. . . . M. d 'Avaux . . . has the care of the troops and the finances ; in short, he is the soul of the undertaking, and the man in whom all confidence is placed. March 4, 16S9. jVI. de Lauzun has refused, it is said, to go to Ireland with the King of Eng- land, but he has hinted, that he might be induced to go, if he were created a duke. ... I doubt whether this sort bargaining may not be detrimental to M. de Lauzun. . . . March 30. . . . We hear that the King of Eng- land is arrived in Ii'eland, where he was received with transport. The prince of Orange is so much afflicted with an asthma, that all the troops he raises desert, thinking he is going to die : seven regiments have left him to go into Scotland. For my part, I am per- suaded that the King of England, with God's assistance, will. overcome all his enemies, and dispel all the clouds that seem ready to burst upon us. Biir}iet, 16S9. . . . One accident happened this summer, of a pretty extraordinary na- ture, that deserves to be remembered. A fisherman, between Lambeth and Vauxhall, was drawing, a net pretty close to the channel ; and a great weight was, not without some diffi- culty, drawn to the shore, which, when taken up, was found to be the great seal of England. King James had called for it from the Lord Jefferies, the night before he went away, as in- tending to make a secret use of it, for pardons or grants. But it seems, when 198 The Stuarts in Exile he went away, he thought either that the bulk or weight of it made it incon- venient to be carried off, or that it was to be hereafter of no more use to him : and therefore, that it niiglit not be made use of against him, he threw it into the Thames. The fisherman was well re- warded, when he brought the great seal to the King : and by his order it was broke. Extract from LuttrelP s Diary. (London, 1S59. Vol. II. p. 71.) 1690. . . . The letters from Ireland bring, that our army upon the ist instant forced the passages of the river [the Boyne] and [has] given the enemy [James II.] an entire defeat, killing aliove 3,000 Irish, with little losse on our side, considering the great disadvantage our men had in passing the river, the enemy standing upon a hill to receive our men as they came out of the water. . . . King James did not engage at all in this ac- tion (as King William did, who was up and down in the hottest of the action, to encourage his men and urge them forward by his own example, not to be affraid to venture where he thought litt to expose himself,) but was upcjii a hill at some distance ; and when he saw how it went, he retired to Dublin . . . de- claring he would never trust an Irish army more. July I I. . . . Tis said when King James went away, he bid his army to shift for them- selves and make the best terms thcv could. z. Letter of Matthew Prior to the Karl of Halifax. (In Ellis. Original Letters of Eminent Literary Men. Camden Society. London, 1S43.) Paris, 30-20 August, 169S. My good Lord and Master, I have written one letter to vou to congratu- late you on vour honours, one to c(jn- dole with you, another to dunn you, and here is a fourth to thank you. . . . The King of Spain's health is the weatherglass upon which all our poli- ticians look ; as that rises or falls we look pleasant or uneasy. I am glad to tell you that I think France is as much afraid he should dye as we can be. ... This court is gone to see their mon- arch a cock-horse at Compeigne ; I fol- low as soon as my English naggs arrive and I shall a little have settled my Lord Jersey. I faced old James and all his court the other day at St. Cloud ; vlve Giiillaiinic '. You never saw such a strange figure as the old bully is, lean, worn and riv'led, not unlike Neale the projectour ; the Queen looks very mel- ancholy, but otherwise well enough ; their equipages are all very ragged and contemptible. Adieu, Master; nobody respects the Chancellor of the Exchequer more or loves dear Mr. Montagu better than his old friend and obliged humble servant, Mat. 3. Letters of Mr. Vernon to the Duke of Shrewsbury. (In Letters illustrative of the Reign of William III. Ed. G. P.R.James. London, 1S41. Vol. IL p. 197.) Oct. 15, 169S. I had a letter from Prior yesterday. . . . He hears that King James and his (^uecn are highly caressed at Fontain- bleau ; that the chief court was made to (^ueen Mary, every body being at her toilet in the morning; that the King of France comes thither to lead her to chapel ; that at meals the Qiieen is placed between the two Kings at the upper end of the table, and equal marks of distinction and sovereignty are paid to all three, and a boire fo7tr le Roi d' Anglctcrrc, ou, poitr la Re inc., is spoken out as loud, and with as much ceremony, as for the King of France, ;ii!i}jiiiJil}HiyjimiiiliRitimi{iiiiiiHiyiiyniiiiiJilili»il^ G- ,^\ni/u ' Inijlrfrrn 1 iiiii iillilliillilii'jniiliiilllijll iiiiiliiiilililliilllllllllllillllliiliililllnliiiilHIIIIIIillllillliliiliilllllllllll^ .^ If -vcmi a JUfij- rJ*er. T/umttjj'in rn,- .C ' faaini'^ 7'i> ,i fij- /•: t'lir ,/ii Pl.itrc cwari€C^ 0iur cr (^lector. (Mclgn iR^c^qtU Lfuhcniacor . 6^-'. The Spanish Succession War 2 1 5 to take Milan, France to have Naples and Sicily. If there was one thing wiiich the Spaniards detested it was the thought of having their possessions parcelled out in this manner. King Charles mus- tered strength to appear in a council of state and proclaim Joseph Ferdinand heir not of a part hut of the whole of his dominions. But the young prince at once sickened and died ; many be- lieved he had fallen a victim to a poiidre de succession administered by order of the French King. Charles II himself was by this time really dying. Louis signed a new partition treaty with Holland and England ; but his agents the while, headed by the Archbishop of Toledo and byjesuit confessors, were busy at the pillow of the dying mon- arch, trying to persuade him to deed his realms to Philip of Anjou, grand- son of the French king. An opposing party, headed by the Qiieen, tried equally hard to secure the whole inher- itance for the Archduke Charles, Leo- pold's younger son. One day, in the Qiieen's absence from the sick-room, the fatal document was signed in favor of the French candidate. " The Pvrenees have ceased to exist," cried Louis XIV, and caused Philip to be solemnly proclaimed King of Spain in the Palace of Versailles. " But re- member," he said in his address of congratulation, " that you are a prince of France." England, Holland and Austria had equal cause for war ; the two former because of the breach of the Partition treaty, the latter because bereft of all share in the inheritance. It cost King William, indeed, infinite pains to gain over the English parliament ; he could not afford to offend the Tories, whose votes were needed in the matter of the Protestant succession to the thi-one ; but at last the succession act was passed and shortly afterwards the " Grand Alliance " signed. William died before hostilities commenced ; but his coalition stood until England so disgracefully abandoned it in 17 13. The Grand Alliance was joined as a matter of course by Hanover and by Prussia ; the former had beey made an electorate (in 1692), the latter a kingdom (two days before the death of Charles II), with the understanding that they should fight the Emperor's battles. One by one the other German powers came in, although with characteristic tardiness the diet of Ratisbon did not declare war until the fighting had been going on for nearly a year. One striking exception was the Elector of Bavaria, Max Emmanuel, who listened to the delusive promises of Louis XIV. He was to have the Pal- atinate (if he could conquer it!), or, perhaps, the Spanish Netherlands, a royal, and possibly even the imperial crown. Even after signing the alliance, and after the Austrians had long since taken the field, England hesitated to open hos- tilities. But when, on the death of James II the French King ostentatiously treated his son with royal honors, and empowered him to take the title of James III, all the reluctance of the people gave way. In the public squares of London a herald, to the sound of trumpets, summoned Louis to mortal combat on the ground of "presuming to support the so-called Prince of Wales as King of England." Parliament granted large supplies of men and money, and entrusted the ghief com- mand to the "• handsomest man in the world," Lord Churchill, duke of Marl- borough. Fortunately court favor was paired with coolness, daring, and, in- deed, with all the qualities that go to make a great commander. The Aus- trians put in the field a general of the 2i6 The Spanish Succession War same calibre, the redoubtable Prince Eugene. The troops of the Empire were under Louis of Baden, who, in- deed, although he had once done good service against the Turks, had now out- lived his usefulness. The chief successes in the early part of the war fell to Max Emmanuel of Bavaria ; he was greeted on his entry into Augsburg in 1703 as "Augustus and soon to be Caesar," and a medal was struck in which he is designated as "King of Bohemia." But Marl- borough and Eugene combined against him, sent Louis of Baden out of the way even at the cost of entrusting him with 20,000 men, and, then struck their great blow at Hochstiidt, or, as the English preferred to call it, Blenheim. Marshal Tallard, the French com- mander, was taken captive together with the cash-box that contained the pay for his troops ; 28,000 men were killed, wounded or taken prisoner ; among the booty were 5,400 provision wagons and thirty-four coaches of ventursome females who had come to lighten the tedium of camp life. The whole of Bavaria fell into the hands of the allies; Max Emmanuel escaped, but his wife and children were sent into exile. After Bleniieim the Mar- grave of Baden was left to defend the Rhine, Eugene went to Italy, where he gained the splendid battle of Turin, and Marlborough conducted his opera- tions in Belgium. Archduke Ciiarles, or, as he styled himself, Charles III, succeeded in entering Madrid and figur- ing for a while as King of Spain. Leopold died and was succeeded by Joseph, one of the best and strongest of the Ilapslmrgs. All Europe was in conflagration at this time, and for many of the German princes it was a question in which struggle they should join. Charles XII of Sweden, in the year i)f Blenheim, deposed Augustus the strong. King of Poland, and placed Stanislaus Les- cinsky on that throne. In 1706 he in- vaded Saxony, and forced on Augustus the humiliating peace of Alt Ranstiidt. Charles XII himself, in 1709, received condign punishment at Pultava from the hand of Peter the Great. In Belgium, where he was later assisted by Prince Eugene, Marl- borough won the battles of Ramilies, Oudenarde, and bloodiest of all, Mal- plaquet, at which latter place the allies, by a strange whim of fortune, though gaining the victory, lost twice as many in killed and wounded as their oppo- nents. The French were not to be blamed for ascribing the honors to themselves, and it was in these days that one heard in all the streets of Paris the mocking song, "Marlb' rough s'en va-t-en guerre!" At all events Mal- plaquet practically finished the war. France was on the verge of bankruptcy, and the few engagements that still took place were but a sort of com- mentary on the long negotiations for peace. That these negotiations lasted as long as thev did was largely the fault of Marll)orough ; the whig party lived by war, and to it the great general was not above catering. And now a new event occurred that changed the whole aspect of affairs and acted like an explosive in sundering the Austrian and English interests. In April, 171 1, died the young Emperor Joseph ; Charles III was now unexpectedly heir to the Austrian possessions and the sure can- didate for the imperial tiirone. A new world monarchy, like that of Charles V, seemed on the point of arising. The spectre was as frightful to England and Holland as had ever been the grandeur of Louis XIV. Philip of Anjou, against whose claim they had been lighting for so many years, seemed (Sec page 216.) " -^ ^ '. r ^r2> .in |l'5!S|||||!!|j|jj||jj|||||l|P'' ^MEDKRICK. Wl/CfrSJ(!S{ \l\(;o;\ A)La\XJJ. ) L^jj-:c']'ORi>^'^)A\oyrr/,^ Criyrtii \i at C rin'onr tiyf If tdo' (Seepage 210.) The Spanish Succession War '7 now the preferable candidate for tlie throne of Spain. Altogether in England the pendulum liad completely swung round. No in- sult was too great to be heaped upon the ^larlboroughs ; even Prince Eugene had fallen from his pedestal. To her own lasting disgrace England deserted her allies without warning and made her own terms with France, securing Port jMahon and Gibraltar, Newfound- Jand, Nova Scotia and Hudson's Bay Territorv. The Pretender was re- nounced l)y France and obliged to seek a residence elsewhere. Philip V was acknowledged as King of Spain, Max Emmanuel was reinstated in all his possessions. Never in all history did a succession of defeats reap such a har- vest of rewards. France stood there, strong and aggressive as ever, with a Bourbon on the Spanish throne ready to obey her beck and call.] QUEEN AXNE AND TI 1. Extract from Horace Walpole's Reminiscences. (Boston, 1S20, p, 84.) The beauty of the duchess of Marl- borough had alwa\ s been of the scorn- ful and imperious kind ; and her feat- lues and air announced nothing that her temper did not confirm. Both together, her beauty and temper, en- slaved her heroic lord. One of her principal charms was a prodigious abundance of fine hair. One day at her toilet, she cut off those command- ing tresses and flung them in his face. Nor did her insolence stop there ; nor stop till it had totally estranged and worn out the patience of the poor queen, her mistress. The duchess was often seen to give her majesty her fan and gloves, and turn away her own head as if the cjueen had offensive smells. 2. Extracts fi"om the Correspondence of the Duchess of Marlborough. (Lon- don, 1S38, Vol. I. p I. ff.) ^iiecn Anne to the DiicJicss of Marl - boroui^'li . 1703- It is now so late that I can only thank you for your letter, and congratu- late the Duke of Marlborough l)eing well after the siege of Bon, which is GROUP xxin. IE MAKLBOROUGHS. more pleasing news to me than all the conquests he can make. May God Almighty, that has pre- served him hitherto through many dangers, continue to do so, and send him safe home to his and my dear adored Mrs. Freeman. (Mrs. Free- man, the Duchess ; Mr. Freeman, the Duke. Qiieen Anne signs herself "Mrs. Morley.") MarlborougJi to Jiis Wife (In Coxe, Life of Marlborough. London, 1S20, Vol. I. p. 413.) August 13, 1704. I have not time to say more, but to beg you will give my duty to the Qiieen, and let her know her army has had a glorious victory. M. Tallard and two other generals are in my coach, and I am following the rest. The bearer, my aide-de-camp. Colonel Parke, will give her an account of what has passed. I shall do it in a day or tw^o bv another more at large. Mareborougii. llie ^uecn to tJie Duchess of Marl- borongh. (Coxe 11. 38.) Windsor, August 10-21. Since 1 sent my letter away by the messenger, I have had the happiness 2i8 Oueen Anne and the Marlboroucrhs of receiving my dear Mrs. Freeman's by colonel Parke, with the good news of this glorious victory, which, next to God Almighty, is wholly owing to dear Mr. Freeman, on whose safety I congratulate you with all my soul. May the same Providence that has hitherto preserved, still watch over, and send him well home to you. We can never thank God Almighty enough for these great blessings, but must make it our endeavour to deserve them ; and I hope he will continue his goodness to us in delivering us from the attempts of all our other enemies. I have nothing to add at present, but my lieing sin- cerely, etc. Mrs. Bt(r>ictt to the Duchess. Aug. 12, O. S. Though your grace's moments are so valuable that I should fear to trouble you with my most humble thanks, till you had more leisure to receive such worthless tributes, yet I cannot defer letting your grace know the joy I see in every one I meet. The com- mon people, who I feared were grown stupid, have and do now shew greater signs of satisfaction and triumph, than I think I ever saw before on any good success whatever ; and after the first tribute of praise to God, the first cause of all that is good, every one studies who shall inost exalt the duke of Marl- borough's fame, by admiring the great secresy, excellent conduct in the design, and wonderful resolution and courage in the execution. Tiie emperor can give no title * half so glorious as such an action. How much blood and treasure has been spent to reduce tlic exorbitant power of France, and to give a balance to Europe; and when after so long a struggle the event remained under great imcertainty, to have the glory to break the chain, gi\c the ♦Alhitlinjj to till- tilU- nf priiK greatest blow to that tyranny that it ever had, have an emperor to owe his empire to the queen's armies as con- ducted by his grace, are splendours that outshine any reward they can receive. I do not wonder you are all joy. You have just cause for it, and to re- count every day with the utmost thank- fulness the amazing blessings God has heaped upon vou. The bishop heartily prays for the continuance of the duke's success, so that the queen may have the greatest glory that is possible, that is the restoring peace and liberty to Europe, and what is greater, the free profession of the protestant religion, wherever it has been persecuted or oppressed ; and that after her, her min- isters, who are the instruments, may share in the lasting blessings and glory due to such benefactors to mankind. Sure no honest man can refuse to unite in such noble designs. I am really giddy with joy, and if I rave, you must forgive me. I can lament for no private loss, since God has given such a general mercy. In death it would be a matter of joy to me to have lived so long as to hear it. The bishop said he could not sleep, his heart was so charged with joy. He desires your grace would carefully lay up that little letter as a relic that cannot be valued enough. Some wiser people than myself think the nation is in so gooil a humour with this success and the plentiful harvest, that better circum- stances can hardly meet for a new par- liament ; and with a little care, it may be as good a one as the depraved manners of this nation is capable of. I pray God direct and prosper all her majesty's counsels and resolutions in this, and every thing else, and make her the universal protectress of truth and charity. And may your grace be ever :i happy favourite, happy in all your advices and services, and happy in her i'KTER THE GKEAT. ( See page 216.) K^i:YS£h Cn€ ThJiu , >f'n> AN ALLY OF (^UKKN A.NNK. (See page iiy.j Oueen Anne and the Marlboroughs 219 majesty's kind approbation and esteem ; and may every honest heart love you as well, and endeavour to serve you as faithfully, as does your grace's most obedient, etc." 3. Letter of the Emperor Leopold to the Duke of Marlborough. (In Coxe, Vol. IL p. 21.) To the most illustrious Prince of Us, and the Holy Roman Empire, John, Duke of JMarlborough, etc. I salute with pleasure your dilection by these titles, who so justly deserve a place among the princes of the empire, as well from your own merits as the honour of your noble family, and for your signal services to me and my august house, and the holy roman em- pire, being desirous to give you this public monument of honour, the great- est there is in Germany, and which is so justly conferred on you. And to make still more public the great obliga- tions I have to her britannic majesty, for sending so great a succour so far to assist me, and the empire, when our affairs were in so ill a posture, by the base revolt of Bavaria to France, and to your dilection, to whose prudence and courage, and the bravery of the english and other troops under your command, my own generals, as well as fame, ascribe chiefly under God, our late successes ; I shall use my endeav- ours to procure your delection a place and vote in the diet, among the princes of the empire. These victories are so great, especially that near Ifochstadt, over the french, which no ages can par- allel, that we may not only congratulate you on having broken the pride of France, defeated their pernicious at- tempts, and settled again the affairs of Germany, or rather of all Europe, after so- great a shock ; but have hopes of see- ing the full and entire litierty of Europe in a short time happily restored from the power of France. To which end as I am sure nothing will be wanting on the part of your dilection, nothing remains but to wish you farther suc- cesses, and give vou fresh assurances of my readiness to embrace any opportu- nity of shewing you with how much affection I am, Leopold. Given in my city of Vienna, 28 August, 1704. 4. Letter of the Duke of Marlbor- ough to the Duchess. (In Coxe's Marlborough.) Bruxelles, July i, 1706. Since my last I have had the pleasure of yours of the iith, as also one from 49 (cipher for George Churchill), in which he does assure me that he is de- sirous of doing everything that might please you and 91 (Godolphin). lam afraid there is sombody else that makes 82 ( ?) and Mrs. Morley uneasy. I do from my Soul wish her all the happi- ness in the world ; and it is certain that God has blessed her reign much above what has been for a long time. But we have had such a villanous race of vipers amongst us, that whilst she is admired by all people abroad, they are studying how to make her and those that serve her uneasy. I really am not concerned for myself : I could retire then, and live with much more pleasure released, if I were sure that 83 (the Qiieen) and 91 (Godolphin) would not want my service. . . . ^Hcc/i Atuic to the Duchess. (In Correspondence. ) No date. . . . I am in such haste I can say no more but that I am very sorry dear Mrs. Freeman will be so unkind as not to come to her poor unfortunate, faithful Morlev, who loves her sincerely, and will do so to the last moment. 2 20 Oueen Anne and the Marlborouahs J^nccfi Anne to the Duchess. (MSS. Commission, 8th report.) May 1707 (or 170S). ... I end this with assuring you with the same sincerity I should do if I were upon my deathbed, that I do be- lieve everything you tell me that you know of your knowledge is true, and that I am as tenderly fond of you as ever, and nothing, no, not e\en your own unkindness shall ever alter your own unfortunate faithfull Morley. ^iiccn Anne to the Duke. {Ih.) Windsor, July 22, 1708. . . . Tho' you say you will serve me as general, but not as a minister, I shall always look upon you as both, and never separate those two characters, but ask your advice in both capacities on all occasions. Saturday, 170S (s/c). ... If ever you should forsake me, I would have nothing more to do with the world, but make another abdycation, for what is a crown when the support of it is gone. Oct. 25, 1709. . . . You seem to be dissatisfied with my behaviour to the Duchess of Marlborough. I do not love complain- ing, but it is impossible to help saying on this occasion I believe nobody was ever so used by a friend as I have been by her ever since my coming to the Crown. I desire nothing but that she would leave off teasing and tormenting me, and behave herself with the de- cency she ought both to her friend and Qiieen, and this I hope you will make her do. ^Nccn Anne to the Duchess. (In Correspondence of the Duchess of Marlborough.) Xo date. I shall dine at St. James's, an it please God, to-morrow, and shall be very glad to see you there, when I am alone; and be assured, whenever you will be the same to me you was five years ago, you shall find me the same tender, faithful IMorley. The Duchess to ^ueen Anne. 1709. I am very thankful for the favour of dear Mrs. Morley' s letter, and for the profession at the end of it, which de- serves more acknowledgments than I can express ; and if you shall dislike anything I am going to say in answer to it, I hope you will continue to for- give me, for since I wrote to you only as a friend, it is impossible for me to say the least word that I don't think. . . . I can't help renewing mv request that you will explain without the trouble of writing a long answer to this, what it is that prevails with you to oppose the advice of all your old servants and councils, — if it be not that woman (Abigail, Mrs. Masham) and those that apply to you by her. . . . It looks as if nobody were too scan- dalous to be countenanced, that woukl but apply to this new favourite. . . . I think you are influenced by this favourite to do things that are directly against your own interest and safety ; and you seem to think that there is nothing of all this, and therefore I \yill take the liberty to tell you why I think it is so at present, and what it is that would make me think otherwise. I think the first, because every day shews that you dont hear my Lord Marlborough and Lord Godolphin as you used to do, and I can hardly believe that even now any men have more credit with you than they have; therefore who can it be but this woman, for you see nobody else. And to shew you that I am not alone of this opinion, if I should ask the first ordinary man that I met, what had caused so great - :«>i»».trv^«»«!Mt i>i w il' *»j iMI» f.iw »« ^i >« " 'J 'i ) u ";< j i »wyw - £fy nu\\"->.\- ...i.ir.'Ju l i.'iy .h.- ■ in't mrt ^cr Cn.~.cf\l.z.rneri CHARLES XII. OF SWEDEN. ( See page 216.) , ''( r/^ y/\ur lJii^yuJ('J/(\^,^ oj ' '\iar//hyvu(//?^ 'Y\^^-*''-'^ Oueen Anne and the Marlboroug^hs 221 a change in you, he would say that the reason was because you were grown very fond of Mrs. Mashain, and were governed by those that governed her. . . . I had ahriost forgot to tell you of a new book that is come out ; the subject is ridiculous, and the book not well written, but that looks so much the worse, for it shews that the notion is extensively spread among all sorts of people. It is a dialogue between Madame Maintenon and Madam Mas- ham, in which she thanks her for her good endeavours to serve the King of France here. . . . The favourite char- acters are your Majesty, Mrs. Masham, my Lord Peterborough, and Mr. Harley ; and 1 am sure every one will allow that is very good attendance, in which I, and Lord Marlborough and almost every one I know are abused, except Mrs. Masham, Lord Peterbor- ough and Mr. Harley. Speaking of her it begins thus: — "She had a soul fitted for grandeur, a capacious reposi- tory for tlie confidence of royal favour ; she had the good fortune to be placed in the eye of favour, whence only her own merit, and sovereign's capacity of well judging merit, distinguished her ; happy in a mistress deserving such a favourite, her mistress, in a favourite deserving to be suah." Mr. ]\raynzvari>ig to the Duchess of ^larlboroJigJi . 1709. Monday evening. Soon after I came home from your Grace's lodgings, I had the honour of a visit from Lord Halifax, who had said yesterday that he would call upon me soon, if I would not be denied when he came. . . . There was nothing Lord Halifax enlarged so much upon as the present reports about 240 (Tli« Duchess herself) ; and he desired me to remember that he then foretold that, if that person and 42 (the Qiieen) were not soon upon better terms, Godolphin and the Duke of Marlbor- ough would be ruined. And though he did not pretend to know much, yet he could easily see that the storm was gathering on all sides. He said it was commonly reported that 240 made at Windsor an open complaint of hav- ing been worse used than 13 (Somer- set) or even the Bug (Kent) ; and that he thought was wrong. I said, since the fact was so, I thought it was no matter how much it was known. But, I said, one thing seemed strange to me, that everybody was now of opinion that nothing would go well unless 240 (The Duchess) were in favour ; who, during the time of being in favour, had met with hardly anything but ingratitude and ill- usage. . . . 5. The Duchess's own Account of an Interview with the Qiieen. (Corres- pondence, I. 295.) Good Friday, April 6, 1710. Upon the 6th of April, 1710, I fol- lowed my letter to Kensington so soon that Her Majesty could not write another harsh letter, which I found she intended ; I sent a page of the back stairs to acquaint her Majesty that I w'as there. She was alone ; however the man staid longer than was usual upon such occasions, and then told me the Queen would have me come in. As soon as I opened the door she said she was going to write to me. " I'pon what, madam ? " said I. The Qiieen. — I did not open vour letter until just now, and I was going to write to you. Lady Marlborough. — Was there anything in it, madam, that you had a mind to ansv/er? The Qiieen. — I think there is noth- ing you can have to say, but you can write it. 222 Oueen Anne and the Marlborouorhs Lady Marlboroiigh. — Won't vour ISIajesty give me leave to tell it you ? The ^ueen. — Whatevei you have to say you may write it. Lady MarlborougJi. — Indeed, I cant tell how to put such sort of things into writing. The S^ueoi. — Vou may put it into writing. L^ady Marlborough. — Wont your Majesty allow me to tell you now I am here ? The ^uccn. — You may put it into writing. Lady yiarlborough. — I believe your Majesty never did so hard a thing to anybody, as to refuse to hear them speak, even the meanest person that ever desired it. The ^ueeti. — Yes, I do bid people put what they have to say in writing, when I have a mind to it. Lady Marlborough. — I have noth- ing to say, madam, upon the subject that is uneasy to you ; that person is not, that I know of, at all concerned in the account that I would give you, which I cant be quiet till I have told you. The ."^uccN. — You may put it into writing. Lady Marlborough. — Tliere are a thousantl lies told of me. ... I do assure your Majesty that there are several things which I have heard have been told to your Majesty that I have said of you, that I am no more capable of, than I am of killing my children. I should have said, when I began to speak, after she had so unnecessarily repeated the same thing over and over again, that I might put what I luul to say in writing, when she saw I went on to tell her the thing, she turncil her face from me as if she feared blushing upon something I might say to her. The ^uccN. — There are, without doubt, manv lies told. L^adv Marlborough. — Pray, madam, tell me what you have heard of me, tliat I may not trouble you to repeat more disagreeable things than neces- sary. The ^ueen. — You said you desire no answer, and I shall give you none. Ladv Marlborough. — I am confi- dent your Majesty could not be so hard to me, if you could believe that 'tis only to do myself justice, and that I could convince you that I have no de- sign of desiring any favour you are averse to. The ^uec?i. — I wnll go out of the room. Upon which I followed her to the door, where she stopped, and when I could speak, which I could not in some time, for the tears that fell down my face, at which I was sorry but could not help it, (and I believe there are not many that would not have been as much moved at such strange usage) I appealed to her. „ . . I only beg to know what vou have heard, that I might be able to clear myself in anything in which I was wronged. The ^ucen. — You said you desire no answer, and I shall give you none. 6. Extracts from Swift's Journal to Stella. (Sir Walter Scott's Edition of Swift's Works, Vols. 2 and 3.) 1710-11, Jan. 7. .. . The Whigs, now they are fallen, are the most malicious toads in the world. We have now had a second misfortune, the loss of several Virginia ships, I fear people will begin to think that nothing thrives under this ministry : and if the ministry can once be rendered odious to the people, the parliament mav be chosen Whig or Tory, as the fiut'cn pleases. Then I think our friends press a little too hard on the Duke of Marlborough. The country members are violent to have past faults Queen Anne and the Marlboroughs 223 inquiretl into, and they have reason ; bnt I do not observe the ministry to be very fond of it. In my opinion, we have nothing to save us but a peace, and I am sure we can not have such a one as we hoped, and then the Whigs will bawl what they would have done had they continued in power. [England was verging towards the utterly disgrace- ful peace of Utrecht.] I tell the min- istry this as much as I dare, and shall venture to say a little more to them, especially about the Duke of Marlbor- ough, who, as the Whigs give out, will lay down his command; and I question whether ever any wise state laid aside a general who had been successful nine years together, whom the enemy so much dreaded, and his own soldiers believe must always conquer ; and you know that in war opinion is nine parts in ten. The ministry hear me always with appearance of regard, and much kindness ; but I doubt they let personal quarrels mingle too much with their proceedings. . . . Pshaw, what is all this? Do you know one thing, that I find I can write politics to you much easier than to anybody alive? . . . Jan. 13. . . . Lady ISIarlborough offers, if they will let her keep her employ- ments, never to come into the queen's presence. The Whigs say the Duke of Marlborough will serve no more ; but I hope and think otherwise. I would to Heaven I were this minute with my dearest at Dublin ; for I am weary of politics that give me such mel- ancholy prospects. . . . August 19. The queen did not stir out to-day, she is in a little fit of the gout. I dined at Mr. Masham's. . . . The queen has ordered tw^enty thousand pounds, to go on- with the building at Blenheim, which has been starved till now, since the change of the ministry. I suppose it is to reward his last action of getting into the French lines. [Note by Scott : " Before Bouchain ; a piece of general- ship deemed equal to almost any of his exploits."] Dec. 6. . . . The Duke of Marlborough has not seen the queen for some days past. Mrs. Masham is glad of it, because she says he tells a hundred lies to his friends of what she says to him : he is one day humble, and the next day on the high ropes. . . . Dec. 30th. . . . The Duke of Marlborough was at court to-day, and nobody hardly took notice of him. Masham's being a lord begins to take wind ; nothing at court can be kept a secret. Dec. 31 , ... I hear the Duke of IMarlborough is turned out of all his employments : I shall know to-morrow, when I am to carry Dr. King to dine with the secre- tary. — These are strong remedies ; pray God the patient is able to bear them. The last ministry people are utterly desperate. Jan. I, 171 1-12. . . . The queen and lord-treasurer mortally hate the Duke of Marlbor- ough, and to that he owes his fall, more than to his other faults : unless he has been tampering too far with his party, of which I have not heard any particu- lars ; however it be, the world abroad will blame us. I confess my belief, that he has not one good quality in the world beside that of a general, and even that I have heard denied by several great soldiers. But we have had con- stant success in arms while he com- manded. Opinion is a mighty matter in war, and I doubt the French think it impossible to conquer an army that he leads, and our soldiers think the same ; and how far even this step may encourage the French to play tricks 2 24 Queen Anne and the Marlboroughs with us, no man knows. 1 do not love to see personal resentment mix with public affairs. . . . Jan. S. • . . . The Duke of Marlborough says, there is nothing he now desires so much as to contrive some way how to soften Dr. Swift. He is mistaken ; for those things that have lieen hardest against him were not written by me. Mr. Sec- retary told me this from a friend of the duke's; and I'm sure now he is down, I shall not trample on him ; although I love him not, I dislike his l)eing out. Jan. lo. This was our society day you know : but the Duke of Ormond could not be with us, because he dined with Prince Eugene. It cost me a guinea contribu- tion to a poet, who had made a copy of verses upon monkies, applying the story to the Duke of Marlborough ; the rest gave two guineas, except the two phy- sicians, who followed my example. I don't like this custom : the next time I will give nothing. Jan. 13. ... I saw Prince Eugene to-day at court: I don't think him an ugly-faced fellow, but well enough, and a good shape. Jan. 23. I (lined again to-day with the secre- tary, but could not despatch some busi- ness I had with him, he has so much besides upon his hands at this juncture, and preparing against the great business of to-morrow, which we are top full of. The minister's design is, that the Duke of Marlborough shall be censured as gently as possible, provided his friends will not make head to defend liini, but if they do it may end in some severer votes. A gentleman, who was just now with him (Marlborough), tells me he is much cast down and fallen away ; but he is positive, if he has but ten friends in the House, that they shall de- fend him to the utmost, and endeavour to prevent the least censure upon him, which I think cannot be, since the bri- bcrv is manifest. Sir Solomon Medina paid him six thousand pounds a year to have the employment of providing bread for the arniv, and the duke owns it in his letter to the commissioner of accoimts. . . . Jan. 25. The secretary sent to me this morning to know whether we should dine to- gether ; I went to him, and there I learned that the question went against the Duke of Marlborough, by a major- ity of a hundred ; so the ministry is mighty well satisfied, and the duke will now be able to do no hurt. . . . No I was not splenetic ; you see what plunges- the court has been at to set all right again. ... I am of your opinion, that Lord Marlborough is used too hardly : I have often scratched out passages from papers and pamphlets sent me, before they were printed ; because I thought them too severe. But he is certainly a vile man, and has no sort of merit beside the military. . . . Feb. 10. I saw Prince Eugene at court to-day- very plain. He is a plaguy yellow, and literally ugly besides. 7. Letter of the Electress Sophia to the Earl of Strafford (In Macpherson, Original Papers, Vol. II. p. 347.) Jan. I 71 2. . . . Tiic good natured lord Rivers told me, he clearly perceived I was of the duke of Marlborough's partv. I answered that if the Qjieen had made an ape her general, and that he had gained so many battles and towns, I would be equally for him : and I see that you have forgot how little I was obliged to his wife; and as for him- self, he never spoke to me of anything which liad any concern with the ad- Oueen Anne and the Marl boroughs r> o C vantages of this house. His expres- sion, in speaking of the Queen, was always, that she was a very good sort of a woman. He repeated this fre- quently, and it appeared to us too low a commendation for so great a princess. Mrs. White to Mrs. llotsoN. (In Macpherson's Original Papers, Vol II. p. 271, ff.) Feb . 1 7 1 2 . My lord Marlborough is very humble, visits every creature that has any credit. To General Webb he sent to know,, when he would be at home, he would visit him. He sent him word, he never would be at iiome to liim ; that he (Marlborough) had done him all the injustice he could when he was in power, and that now he would do him all the justice he could, which he thought he deserved ; and my lord Wharton told my loid treasurer, that he played well at whist : what he could not make by tricks, he made up by knaves. 1712. The birth day of the Qiieen, the Duke of Marlborough was in a chair in St. James's Park, with the curtains drawn : the mob, that believed it to be the Prince Eugene, huzza' d the chair; but the duke modestly drew back the curtains and put himself out, and with a sign shewed his dislike to the saluta- tion. The mob, finding their mistake, and that it was he, cried out, "• Stop thief," which was a tliorough mortirt- cation to him. His daughters, that day, to shew their contempt of the court, were in wrapping-gowns at a window in St. James's to see the corn- pan v pass, two of them, and the other tw'o drove through the Pall-mall four times, in the worst mob-dress they could put themselves. The duke was in a black suit, that day, and his son- in-law, the duke of Montague, was at court in a plain, coarse, red coat, with a long slioulder-knot, in ridicule of the day ; but the Queen had the satisfac- tion to see the most splendid court that ever was, and crowded more than ever by all the church, nobility and gentry. There was a short uproar. My lord Marlborough finds his levees much thinner than they were, and daily less and less. The people are disgusted at him. In a little time he will be odious to them. How they huzza the Duke of Ormond, who loves popularity too well. Prince Eugene wears the sword the Qiieen gave him ever since the birth-day ; it is worth 6000/. He has had his answer from the third day he was here. The court wish him gone. 6"u'//?' 5 Journal. Oct. z^. . . . Here is the Duke of Marlbor- ough going out of England (Lord knows why), which causes many spec- ulations. Some say h'e is conscious of guilt, and dare not stand it. Others think he has a mind to fling an odium on the government, as who should say, that one, who has done such great ser- vices to his country, cannot live quietly in it, by reason of the malice of his enemies. I have helped to patch up these people together once more. God knows how long it may last. . . . Jan. 6, 1712-13, . . . The Duchess of Marlborough is leaving England, to go to her duke, and makes presents of rings to several friends, they sav worth two hundred pounds a piece. I am sure she ought to give me one, though the duke pre- tended to think me his greatest enemy, and got )5eople to tell me so, and very mildly to let me know how gladly he would have me softened toward him. I bid a lady of his acquaintance and mine let him know, that 1 had hindered many bitter things against him ; not for 226 Queen Anne and the Marlboroughs his own sake, but because I thought it looked base ; and I desired everything should be left him, except power. Night, MD. . . . April 1 1 . I dined at lord-treasurer's, with his Saturday company. We had ten at table, all lords but myself and the chan- cellor of the exchequer. . . . Lord- treasurer showed us a small picture, enamelled work, and set in gold, worth about twenty pounds ; a picture, I mean, of the queen, which she gave to the Duchess of Marlborough, set in diamonds. When the duchess was leaving England, she took off all the diamonds, and gave the picture to one Mrs. Higgins (an old intriguing woman, whom everybody knows), bid- ding her make the best of it she could. Lord-treasurer sent to Mrs. Higgins for this picture, and gave her a hundred pounds for it. Was ever such an un- grateful beast a^that duchess? or did you ever hear such a story ? I suppose the Whigs will not believe it. Pray, try them. She takes off the diamonds, and gives away the picture to an in- significant woman, as a thing of no consequence : and gives it to her to sell, like a piece of old-fashioned plate. Is she not a detestable slut? Night, dear MD, 8. Characteristics of Qiieen Anne as drawn bv the Ducliess. (Correspond- ence, p. 119.) Qiieen Anne had a person and ap- pearance not at all ungraceful, till she grew exceeding gross and corpulent. There was something of majesty in her look, but mixed with a sullen and con- stant frown, that plainly betrayed a gloominess of soul, and a cloudiness of disposition within. She seemed to in- herit a good deal of her father's mo- roseness, which naturally produced in her the same sort of stubborn positive- ness in many cases, both ordinary a.nd extraordinary, as well as the same sort of bigotry in religion. Her memory was exceeding great, almost to a wonder, and had these two peculiarities very remarkable in it, that she could, whenever she pleased, forget what others would have thought them- selves obliged by truth and honour to remember, and remember all such things as others would think it an hap- piness to forget. Indeed she chose to retain in it very little besides ceremo- nies and customs of courts, and such like insignificant trifles; so that her conversation, which otherwise inight have been enlivened by so great a memory, was only made the more empty and trifling by it, chiefly turn- ing upon fashions and rules of preced- ence, or observations upon the weather, or some such poor topics, without any variety or entertainment. Upon which account it was a sort of unhappiness to her that she naturally loved to have a great crowd come to her ; for \vhen they were come to Court, she never cared to have them come in to her, nor to go out herself to them, having little to say to them, but that it was either hot or cold ; and little to enquire of them, but how long they had been in town, or the like weighty matters. She never discovered any readiness of parts, either in asking questions, or in giving answers. In matters of ordinary mo- ment, her discourse had nothing of brightness or wit ; and in weightier matters, she never spoke but in a hurry, and had a certain knack of sticking to what had been dictated to her, to a degree often very disagreeable, and without the least sign of understanding or judgment. Her letters were very indifferent, l)oth in sense and spelling, unless they were generally enlivened witli a few passion- ate expressions, sometimes pretty I. Smith /r. ft ex. Oueen Anne and the Marlborouo^hs 227 enough, but repeated over and over a^^ain, without tlie mixture of any- thing either of chversion or ins- truction. Her civility and good manners in con- versation (to which the education of great persons naturally leads) were ■general enough, till in her latter days her new friends untaught her tliese accomplishments and then her whole deportment was visibly changed to that degree, that when some things disagree- able to her own honour or passion have been laid before her, she would descend to the lowest and most shocking forms of contradiction ; and what, in any of a meaner station, would have been esteemed the height of unpolite- ness. Her friendships were flames of ex- travagant passion, ending in indiffer- ence or aversion. Her love to the Prince seemed, in the eye of the world, to be prodigiously great ; and great as was the passion of her grief, her stomach was greater ; for that very day he died she eat three very large and hearty meals, so that one would think that as other persons' grief takes away their appetites, her appetite took away her grief. Nor was it less remarkable where there was so great an appearance of love, the peculiar pleasure she took before his funeral in settling the order of it, and naming the persons that were to attend, and placing them according to their rank and to the rules of pre- cedence, which was the entertainment she gave herself every day till that sol- ■emnity was over. I know that in some libels she has been reproached as one who indulged herself in drinking strong liquors, but 1 believe this was utterly groundless, and that she never went beyond such a quantity of strong wines as her physicians judged to be necessary for her. 9. Letter of the Duchess of Ivlarl- borough '' to Mr. Cooke at the Bank." April 6, 1742. Sir : I have received a letter from Mr. Dodridge, a gentleman that I know not ; but he seems to me to be a well- wisher to my family. He writes a good deal to me, and expresses satisfaction in the reading the book (a defence of herself written in 1742), which proves the falsities that have been spread by party against me ; but wishes that I had added two things more to the clear- ing my character ; which are as follows : — first, concerning the King of Prussia, that he had writ a book in which he imputes the ruin of Europe to have happened from a quarrel between Qiieen Anne and me about a pair of gloves. I did once hear there \/as such a book printed, and that his Majesty said, the Qiieen would have her gloves made before mine, which I would not suffer the glover to do. The other report, which he mentions, is, that her Majesty was reconciled to the Duke of Marlborough and me before her death. The letter does not mention what we did to compass this great favour ; but it seems to think it was from doing some very infamous thing. As to this story, I can only answer that I never heard one word of it before ; that the letter says, that we came into England, the end of July, 17 14; the Qiieen died the I st of August, and we did not come into England until after her death, and, as to the King of Prussia's history, I have heard it was some other person that wrote it for him, and called it the King of Prussia's. I will not pretend to say anything in contradiction to his parts if he did write it ; but I think it is impossible for anybody to answer all the nonsense that has been laid to the charge of kings and ministers, and as to these two stories there is not the least foundation for either. 228 The Hanoverian Succession GROUP XXIV THE han()\'i:riax succession. I . Letters of Sophia of Osnabruck to her Brother, Charles Louis of the Pahi- tinate. Translation. (In Briefwechsel derHerzogin Sophie. Leipzig: Hirzel, 18S5, p. 361, ff.) Osnabruck, June 20, 1679. When one begins to grow old it seems as if one always had to fight with some ill or other. If it had not been the fever it would have been something else — perhaps a leg-trouble like yours, or Prince Rupert's or the Abbess of Her- ford's. Such is the common fate of humanity, to see onesself decay while others are being born to supersede us, to whom, nevertheless, we grow so strongly attached that we must see them comfortably established before quitting them. Ernest Augustus [her husband], who often has bad turns has taken into his head that he might die before his brothers [John Frederick of Hanover and George William of Celle] and leave no fit provision for his children. The Celle people have now long been offer- ing him 50,000 ecus in sovereignty and 100,000 down if he will consent to the marriage of my eldest son [the future George I.] with the daughter of George William [Sophie Dorothea]. The mar- riage is repugnant to the boy, as is the d'Olbreuse connection to us, though Miss Hyde was of no better family ; besides which the girl has been twice legitimatized : these considerations make it only right that they should raise the amount. What would you think of 80,000 ecus a year in sovereignty to Ernest Augustus ; ought he to con- taminate his ancestors for that, and is it paying them well enough? And they offer that the whole army [of Celle] shall swear allegiance to Ernest Augus- tus, that no officer shall l)e put in the fortresses who has not taken oath to him, and the whole land shall do him hom- age and obev him only, even should sons be born to George William. [The latter had married far beneath him, after hav- ing been affianced to Sophia herself and having promised all his lands to Ernest Augustus if he would become his sub- stitute. — Ed.] All this wont make it any more pleasant to me to be brother and boon companion to a scoupette. Osnabruck, Nov. 9, 1679. ... I have spoken to Mr. Coppensten (an ofiicial of Charles Louis) concern- ing the proposition that has been made to us from Celle. It is a very bitter pill to swallow but if they have gilded it with 100,000 ecz<5 yearly, in sovereignty, we will close our eyes and take it. The example of the Prince of Orange makes it easier to bear and Ernest Augustus says " the Lord is calling him." My six sons are growing up, he himself is in bad health and would like to see them well established and secure of the succes- sion so as to have his mind at rest. As to me I find the matter very disagreeable. Osnabruck, Xov. 30, 1679. Your approbation concerning the •' ancestors " is of no small importance ; kackcn gat vor all and eat one must, even if the rest has to come after. Xevertheless it is a disagreeable matter, although there is a precedent in the marriage of the prince of Orange whose wife is of no better l)irth nor descended from a more chaste mother. Besides she only brings him a kingdom in prospect, whereas here we ask like Jodclet : " Is it cash down?" And if it is not, that is, if we are not well assured of what we are to receive, there will be no marriai.no l0AN>4 1 WAlL R AVKN. Nccmriimt Ekctori, JBruniV.conrt, ,t Litnel.Mr genii. Coniili^xo ^J^i-'^^J^^^^^^^^^^j^/r/Jr^Sij^i^'v^ The Hanoverian Succession 235 March y. . . . Qiieen Anne is splendidly well. She will have to hurry up ami die if I am to be queen as you desire. Leibnitz to tJic Elect r ess SopJtia. April 7, I 714. ... If Mr. Ilarley is delayed by the weight of the chests of silver he is bringing to enable your Electoral High- ness to have a fine English court, as they say he is in the papers, we will pardon him his slowness. ... If he merely comes to preach to us that the Protestant succession is in no danger he might have kept his arguments for the Coffee-houses of London. TJie Electi-ess to Leibnitz. Hanover, May 20th, 1714. . . . Mr. Harley's mission con- sisted only in letters of the Qiieen and my Lord of Oxford who say very posi- tively that her Majesty is altogether in favor of furthering the Protestant re- ligion by the succession in our house — this in the most explicit terms that could be employed. Nevertheless the people thought Harley had come to in- vite me to go to England ; of which indeed there was not the least mention. ... I did however, order Baron Schiitz to ask the chancellor if the Electoral Prince [later George II] as Duke of Cambridge ought not to have a writ of summons to parliament. The Chancellor . . . sent the writ to Schiitz. But afterwards the Qiieen had Cotterel forbid him the Court. . . . Air. Harley offered me a pen- sion from the Qiieen, which I was hon- est enough to refuse, saying that I de- sired one by the good pleasure of her Majesty and the parliament, as heir presumptive of the throne, in imitation of her Majesty, wlio did the same when she was offered one by King William. . . . The Queen seems to be pretty well, and, according to the Flemish proverb " creaking carts go far." As to me, I consider myself in much greater danger, being past 83, although feeling splendidly for that. 9. Letter of Queen Anne to the Elector of Hanover (George I, ). (In Macpherson's Original Papers. Lon- don, 1775. Vol. II. p. 621.) M:.y 19-30, 1714. As the rumour increases, that my cousin, the Electoral Prince, has re- solved to come over to settle, in my life time, in my dominions I do not choose to delay a moment to write to you about this, and to communicate to you my sentiments, upon a subject of this importance. I then freely own to you, that I cannot imagine, that a prince who possesses the knowledge and penetra- tion of your Electoral Highness, can ever contribute to such an attempt ; and that I believe you are too just to allow, that any infringement shall be made on my sovereignty wliich you would not choose should be made on your own. I am firmly persuaded that vou would not suffer the smallest diminution of your authority. I am no less delicate in that respect ; and I am determined to oppose a project so contrary to my royal authontv, however fatal the con- sequences mav be. Your Electoral Highness is too just to refuse to bear me witness, that I gave, on all occasions, proofs of my desire that your family should succeed to my crowns, which I always recom- mend to my people as the most solid support of their religion and their laws. I employ all my attentions that nothing should efface those impressions from the hearts of my subjects : but it is not possible to derogate from the dignity and prerogatives of the prince who wears the crown, without making a dangerous breach on the rights of the successors : therefore, I doubt not. 2^6 The Hanoverian Succession but with your usual wisdom, you will prevent the taking such a step ; and that you will give me an opportunity of renewing to you, assurances oE the most sincere friendship with which I am, etc. Dean S-^vift to tJic Earl of Pctcrhor- Otlgll. (Swift's Works. Sir Walter Scott's Edition. Vol. XVI. p. 109.) London, ]May iS, 1714. ... I was told, the other day, of an answer you made to somebody abroad, who inquired of you the state and dis- positions of our court: "That you could not tell, for you had been out of England a fortnight." . . . The queen is pretty well at present; but the least disorder she has puts all in alarm ; and when it is over, we act as if she were immortal. ... It is impossible to tell you whether the Prince of Hanover in- tends to come over or not. I should think the latter, by the accounts I have seen ; yet our adversaries continue strenuously to assert otherwise. . . . This formidable journey is the per- petual subject both of court and coffee- house chat. 10. Letters of Mr. IMolyneux, an Envov, to Lord Marlborough. (In Coxe : Marlborough, Vol. VI. p. 2S1.) Hanover, Thursday, June 7, 1714. I am directed by the electress to send your grace the inclosed, which arrived in Hanover, by express, on Tuesday, but were not delivered till yesterday at noon. I have not time, or I had trans- lated the queen's for you ; but my lord will explain them to you, and let you know that there is no hand vilhiinous enough to write them, but that one from whence they come. This court is so openly honest in their proceedings, that they would be glad to disperse these letters among their friends in England ; whereas their correspond- ence is so false and hidden, as that the express declared, till the moment the letters were read, that they were to in- vite the prince over, and I would lay my life the ministers declare the same in London. Hanover, June 10, 171-I. The last post I finished my letters about six in the evening. Not an hour after the post went, I went directly afterwards to Herrenhausen, the coun- trv house of the court, and there the first thing I heard was, that the good old electress was just dying in one of the public walks. I ran up there and found her just expiring in the arms of the poor electoral princess, and amidst the tears of a great many of her ser- vants, wlio endeavoured in vain to help her. I can give you no account of her illness, but that I believe the chagrin of those villainous letters I sent you last post has been in a great measure the cause of it. The Rheingnnine, who has been with her these fifteen 3ears, has told me she never knew any thing make so deep an impression on her as the affair of the prince's journey, which, I am sure, she had to the last degree at heart ; and she has done me the honour to tell me so twenty times. In the mickt of this concern those letters arrived, and those I verily be- lieve have broke her heart, and brought licr with sorrow to the grave. The letters wcie delivered on Wednesday at noon. That evening when I came to court, she was at cards, but was so full of these letters, that she got up and ordered me to follow her into the garden, where she gave them to me to reatl, and walked, and spoke a great deal in relation to them. I believe she walked three hours that night. The next morning, which was Thmsday, I heard she was ou*: of order ; and on going immediately to court, she ordered me to be called into her bedchamber. The Hanoverian Succession '^'1^1 She gave me the letters I sent you to copy ; she bid me send them next post, and bring them afterwards to her to court. That was on Friday, In the morning on Friday, they told me she was very well, but seemed very cha- grined. She was dressed, and dined with tlie elector as usual. About four she did me the honour to send me to town, for some other copies of the same letters, and then she was still perfectly well. She worked and talked very heartily in the Orangerie. After that, and about six, she went out to walk in the gardens, and was still very well. A shower of rain came, and as she was walking pretty fast, to get to shelter, they told her she walked a little too fast. She answered, " I believe I do," and dropped down in saying those words, which were her last. They raised her up, chaffed her with spirits, tried to bleed her ; but it was all in vain, and when I came up to her, she was as dead as if she had been four days so. No princess ever died more regretted, and I infinitely pity those servants, that have known her a long time, when I that have had the honour to be known to her but a month, can scarce refrain from tears in relating this. GROUP XXV GEORGE I. AND THE PRINCESS OF AHEDEN. I . An Account of the Divorce of C^eorge of Hanover from Sophia Doro- thea of Celle. Published in 169:;. (In Historische Zeitschrift, Vol. 4S, p. 232.) Translated. [The emendations in italics were made by ^Madame, the Duchess of Or- leans, and the well-known Leibnitz. It nuist be remembered that they were both warm friends of the House of Han- over. The wliole matter of Konigs- mark's disappearance is shrouded in mystery. The guilt of the Princess is an open question. This account is the least distorted and the most moderate of any that has come down to us. The details that ordinarily pass current to- day arc taken from a novel written by the Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel. The " Memoirs of Sophia Dorothea" are an arrant forgery. — Ed.] When the Duchess of Celle [Eleo- nora D'Olbreuse] was called plain Madame de Harburg they had thought of marrying her daughter to young Count Konigsmark, inasmuch as they had loved each other from childhood. ( The late Conntess Kihiii^sniark iL'Jicn sJie ~vas at Hatnbiirg^ had taketi steps in this matter with regard to the Cotmfs older brother -who died i)i the Morea ; bnt thev ivere o)ilv children the?t and they ivould not hear of the proposition at Celle.) But Chancellor Schutz, for his own private advantage, furthered that of Madame of Celle to the extent of having her daughter de- claretl countess (princess, rathe?') and engaged to the young prince of Wol- fenbuttel who was killed before Philips- burg. The prince of Nassau, governor of Friesland, then tried to get her by the intrigues of a certain Villiers, and the mother entered into it to some extent. But the Duke of Hanover [Ernest Augustus] being informed of it and fearing that the rich dowry which the duke of Celle [George William] meant to give his daughter might escape him, made up his mind at last to the marriage he had long scorned, and one fine day the duchess of Hanover [Sophia] went to the duke of Celle, who was still in bed to declare this resolution to him 238 George I. and the Princess of Ahlden and to demand his daughter in marriage for her son [George I.] {Afalse/iood. The elect ress of Bnmswick had noth- ing to do -with this marriage^ of zvhich she did not approve.) The affair was soon settled, and one of the conditions of the match was that there should henceforward be the riglit of primogen- iture. [Hanover and Celle were to form one duchy, which should not be subdivided among the heirs. — Ed.] Thus the maniage was consummated rather from motives of interest than from affection. {Falsehood. The pritzce really loved /lis xvife.) [But consult Sophia' sown letters ! — Ed.] But this constraint was soon thrown aside ; they began to show coldness to the princess and soon treated her with in- dignity. The prince considered her his inferior, and being quick-tempered did not keep his hands off her. The guards noticed it, and they say he even drew his sword. They reproached the princess with her birth ; she complained of it to her father and mother. But the mother could only urge her to be patient, and the father said a woman ought to adapt herself to the disposition of her husband. {As many falsehoods as there are words. They treated her ivith all the regard imaginable [Oh no, they did not ! — Ed.] tlie electoral prince took good care not to beat her. Those ivho believe or zcrite sncJi thi?tgs do not in t/ie least knozv the prince., or rather do not icno'V the zcay in zvhich persons of this quality live. The most that could have happened is that -vhen the princess had committed many improper actions the prince may have said a fezv sharp -cords to her. It is true slic sofnetimes complained to her father and mother ., heaping up falsehoods., for there vcas mucii malice in Jier ?iature. . Moreover they ivould never have believed her so guilty at Celle if her letters had not been produced. ) In the meanwhile Count Konigsmark came to take service in Hanover and the old feeling of tender- ness revived. He ruined himself in balls and gifts that he might find oppor- tunities to speak to the princess but was cliiefly able to recover his place in her affections because the princess was not happv. It happened in the interval that the intrigues of the princes Max- imilian and Charles [George's younger brothers] were discovered and that the idea was conceived, for the better es- tablishing of the primogeniture, of hav- ing the ninth electorate founded. The endeavor w'as dashed at Augsburg by the opposition of the duke of Celle. They then set to work to win him over. M. Grote had in vain endeavoured to make this duke abdicate, but at any rate they gained his consent to the electorate. [It was established in 1693. — Ed.] ( Falsehood. TJiey took good care not to make any suc/i proposition to the Duke of Celle.) During this time they were quite amiable to the princess in order not to vex her father. But once having gained the investiture with the electorate they went back to their old manner of treatment. Countess Platen [Mistress of Ernest Augustus] had shown great attentions to Konigsmark, to bring him to marry her daughter, but when she saw she was being looked upon as a dupe she set to work to re- venge herself. In order to foster the bad state of affairs between the prince and the princess she made use of one of her own relatives (Schwarz), that she might be head of a dynasty of ministers. But the prince's love was not as constant as his father's; he soon tired of this painted beauty, and sought other objects, even married women, with whom he did not stand badly. The princess was irritated at it more and more and complained in vain to her father. She also had a fallinsf out George I. and the Princess of Ahlden 239 \vith the Electress of Bnindcnhuijij [Sophie Charlotte, her sister- in-hi\v], because one clay the j^rincess said to the Electress : Madame, you are unusually beautiful to-day; the Electress replied that she had her ordinary color and that she did not paint like many other people ; whereupon the princess, who was picjued, havinor provoked her into w^ashing, the Electress, greatlv annoyed took occasion to harm her enemv by telling the prince her brother a thou- sand tales that she had heard ; this, al-. thougli he knew only too much already, helped to goad him on still more. ( This story is a pure i)ivc/itio?i. It is tri(c tJie Electress a?/d the princess had not seen each other yor tzco years or more, but that zvas for another reason. When the opera honse seemed to he on fire., Count Kofiigsmark cried eagerly .^ save the electoral pri/i- cess ; and as, in the co)ifnsion , the gentleman in xvaiting could not at first be found, the count, mistaking the electress for the princess in the darkness gave her his hand to take her out of the crush. But having perceived his error he quitted her brusquely to run to the princess, and the electress, since the others had seen that the count zvas taking- care of her, was left alone until Prince Maximiliaft, perceiving it, extricated her from the crozvd. The electress having rallied her a little on it, the princess zvas mortally ofi'ended.^ Meanwhile the count, seeing that they ^vere being watched more than usual, resolved to leave and to take service %vith the elector of Saxony. Hut at Dresden he was foolish enough to speak of things about which he might better have kept quiet. One of the elector's councillors, fearing lest this count should establish himself at Dres- den, betrayed him and everything was jiiade known at Hanover. Whereupon it was resolved to get rid of the count, who never meant to return there but only to leave with a good grace. Meanwhile the measures were taken ; Countess Platen undertook to carry them out { falsehood) \ Italians were not lacking at Hanover. ( The elector of Brunszvirk had enough faithful servitors in his ozvn land, not to need Italians), and the count disappeared the day before tlie one fixed for his de- parture. If one undertook to report all the rumors on this subject one could till a volume. The most frequent one is that he was despatched very quickly. His servants suspected nothing at first and his secretary was imprudent enough not to put away his papers; he even went at last to enquire what he should do about them. [Some haz'e accused him of dealings zvith the count's enemies, but that is not apparent. ) Under pretext that they were state papers in which they were interested, they went there and found only too much. There was a packet of all the letters the countess {sic) had written him for a long time back. The prin- cess was taken to Ahlden and then to Lauenau. Meanwhile in order to appease the duke of Celle and make him approve the steps taken, they showed him the letters, some of which spoke ill enough of himself. There was one where the princess, displeased at having complained in vain to her father of the love affairs of her husband says : this old dotard, because he has been a rake all his life, thinks that no one could live without being one. ( 'The terms used zvere a little differ- ent. It seems she laughed at the goodness and credulity of the duke her father. He is in his dotage, she said, zvhich is a sign that he zvill still live a long time.) Finally the duke of Celle lent his hand to the divorce. They had long cherished this plan, but 240 George I. and the Princess of Ahlden out of consideration fur tlie duke of Celle had been obliged to keep it secret ; now they considered the con- juncture favorable for bringing it forward. They formed a council com- posed of clergy and seculars from the courts of Hanover and Celle. There the matter was gone into. The coun- cil tried at first to patch up matters ; the prince, knowing that the princess would not return to him, offered to re- ceive her back. {Madame \^EUza- beth Charlotte^ remarks on t/iis that there are no siifns that the electoral prince xvould have been ivilling' to re- ceive her back. She says the prin- cess zcas crazy enough to tie up if she refused to return and made such pro- positions., ichich are indeed fctitious ; all the more since she ought to think of her much inferior birth and to consider it a great honor even to be endured after those other galantcrics that made her conduct suspected — as xch en formerly at Celle she almost forced you?ig Ilaxthausen to receive her letters., -which proved the ruin of this you nj^ man at that courts not to speak of her passion for the Rhein- gt'cif nor the liberties she took at Venice of -vhich certain Frenchmoi., like the marquis dc la Seve., I think., Blanc hefort and others told stories at the court of jFrance.) The princess would not listen to it [the idea of returning to her husband] except on con- dition that the count be liberated, thus to justify her innocence, that the countess Platen shoulil be sent away, and that lier husband should treat her better. She was refused these conditions. And thereupon the council pronounced sentence of divorce on the basis of desertion, with the clause that the prince might marry again ; but as tiie laws forbid it to the guilty party they put it into these same terms. Thev simply let it go by default. The prin- cess's advocate acted throughout the whole trial like a simpleton or a rogue. He had no plea to urge against the sentence except that of supplication with which he began. ( What other means could he use., since in this matter appeals to tribunals of the empire are tiot in order'?) The princess was taken back to Ahlden where she will pass her time none too pleasantly. 2. Protocol of Report of Celle Min- isters. (Historische Zeitschrift, Vol. 4S, p. 43-) Aug. 5, 1694. Report of what passed at Ahlden, Object of the journey had been to lay before the princess the true state of affairs — that everything had been com- pletely laid bare and that there was no need of denial or hesitation ; to tell her just what was to be made public on our parts, and just how she would have to conduct herself when the question of divorce came up. She testified to the completest i-epentance in the world; condemned herself, indeed, recognizing that she had merited all that had hap- pened to her and more too ; asked for pardon, placing great confidence in the generosity of the Elector ; seemed to have a dread of the electoral prince. She wished to deny having come to actual crime ; recognized tliat the ap- pearances were such that any one must condemn her, and that therefore in this regard her innocence could serve only for her own internal satisfaction. . . . Slie would consent to the separation^ saw that it could not well be otherwise ; was of opinion that the scanty friend- ship, or rather aversion the prince had felt for her for years had brought her to this unhappy condition ; had not thought she could ever right herself again in his eyes; adding that before his journey to Berlin he had said : George I. and the Princess of Ahlden 241 " This constraint is too much; on inv return I shall write to your father and demand a separation." With such pre- vious intentions it was easy to imagine, now that this misfortune had come, what he would do. Let them tell her how to act and she would obey. She con- sidered it a great blessing that God through this misfortune would with- draw her from a world to which she had entirely given herself up, and wouid give her an opportunity to think on God and her salvation ; that she would hope to prove an example of piety, even as she had hitherto of scandal. [She was kept in confinement more than thirty years and never allowed to see either of her children, George II, or Sophia Dorothea, wife of Frederick William I.— Ed.] 3. General Stanhope to the Emperor of the Romans, Charles VI. (Leibnitz, \Verke,\"ol. IX. p. 504.) Translation. London, July 30Lh-August 10, 1714. [Less than two months after the death of the Electress Sophia. — Ed.] Sire : I think I can with certainty at this present moment send w'ord to your Imperial and Christian Majesty that the Qiieen is in the last agonies. After having felt unwell for two days she was seized with an attack of apoplexy, which lasted two hours, during which she was bereft of all sensation. She recovered a little about eleven o'clock and the council which had assembled profited by this interval of health to gain the Qiieen's consent to nominate the Duke of Shrewsbury as Grand Treasurer, in place of the five commis- sioners who had been spoken of and who wer.e to have been subordinated to Lord Bolingbroke as prime minister. The council continues in session and gives all the orders necessary to main- tain the public tranquility and enable Monseigneur the Elector (George I.) to take sure possession. At three o'clock this afternoon the four physi- cians declared to the council that the remedies they had essayed, two very violent emetics, had had no effect and according to the pre- cepts of their art she could not live twelve hours. This sudden and unex- pected accident is like a thunderbolt for the Jacobite party which has taken no measures in advance for the success of their project ; and I can assure your Imperial and Christian Majesty, that if the physicians have guessed rightly, Monseigneur the Elector of Hanover will be proclaimed King and will take possession of the kingdom as peace- fully as any of his predecessors have done. It is true that if the illness should drag along, even if only for a few weeks, we might be seriouslv em- barrassed ; but all who have seen the Qiieen and spoken to the physicians are ;:erfectly in accord that to-morrow will see the end of matters. I con- sidered, Sire, that it was my duty to communicate to your Imperial and Christian Majesty all that I could learn in so delicate a conjuncture. I hope that I am saying nothing new when I assure you that all honorable people here are just as outraged at the perfidy of the last ministry towards your Majesty as any Austrian or Spaniard could be and that they will contribute their utmost, when an occasion shall present itsself to atone for this national infamy (the peace of L)trecht). And I flatter myself. Sire, that I have not been mistaken so often as I have said to our friends of the good party that your Imperial and Christian Majesty would always consider it your interest to keep England free, to uphold the rights there of the House of Brunswick, and to protect us in case of need against the common enemy. God grant that 242 George I. and the Princess of Ahlden this good understanding, which had engendered such glorious successes, may be continually renewed. Mean- while I humbly beg your Majesty to believe, that I am and ever will be, Sire, your Imperial ami Christian Majesty's very humble, very obedient and very devoted servant. 4. Letter of Lady ^Llry Wortley Montague to her Husband. (Works, Vol. L p. 244.) [York.] 1714- I went with my cousin to-day to see the king proclaimed, which was done; the archbishop walking next the lord mayor, and all the country gentry following, with greater crowds of people than I believed to be in York, vast acclamations and tlie appearance of a general satisfaction ; the Pre- tender afterwards dragged about the streets and burned ; ringing of bells, bonfires and illuminations, the mob crying liberty and property, and long live King George I This morning all the principal men of any figure took post for London, and we are alarmed with tlie fear of attempts from Scot- land, though all the Protestants here seem unanimous for the Hanover suc- cession. 5. Lord Chesterfield's character of George L (Works, London, iS45,Vol. II. p. 43^-) George the First was an honest, dull, German gentleman, as iniHt as unwill- ing to act the part of a King, which is to shine and to oppress. Lazy and inactive even in his pleasures, which were therefore lowly sensual. He was coolly intrepid, and indolently benevo- lent. He was diffident of his own parts, which made him speak little in public, and prefer in his social, which were his favourite, hours the company of wags and buffoons. Even . . . the Duchess of Kciulal, with whom he passed most of his time, and who had all influence over him, was very little above an idiot. Lnportunitv alone could make him act, and then only to get rid of it. His views and affections were singly con- fined to the narrow compass of his Electorate ; England was too big for him. If he had nothing great as a King, he had nothing bad as a man ; and if he does not adorn, at least he will not stain, the annals of this coun- trv. In private life he would have been loved and esteemed as a good citizen, a good friend, and a good neighbour. Happy were it for Europe, happy for the world, if there were not greater kings in it ! 6. Letters of Count Broglio to the King of Finance. (In Belsham, History of Great Brittain, London, 1S05. Vol. III. Appendix, p. 539.) July 6, 1724. As the duchess of Kendal seemed to express a desire to see me often, I have been verv attentive to her, being convinced that it is highly essential to the advancement of your majesty's service to be on good terms with her ; for she is closely united to the three ministers wdio now govern, and these ministers are in strict union together, and are, as far as I can judge, well in- clined. They visit me very frequently both together and singly, and I behave to them in the same manner. . . . Lord Townshend and Mr. Walpole have been lately indisposed, but they are now quite recovered. It is much to be wished that they should remain in power. . . . They possess an un- bounded influence over the King and the duchess of Kendal ; they enjoy the whole power of government, and the entire confidence of the King. The prince of Wales endeavours to obtain information of what passes from //.W/v^/^l'^'T,^/././////- i^r/^7/;///^r fA^Y//j. //////>^. S^/^a^ Jtr. M ■ '^ ^j^Zycn It Oifnm M^Xt^e/i- .» George I. and the Princess of Ahlden 243 persons wlio are attached to him, but he learns nothing either from the king, the duchess, or the ministers. The king goes every afternoon at five o'clock to the duchess, the ministers occa- sionally attend, and it is there that affairs which require secresv are treated. . . . July 10. The more I consider state affairs, the more I am convinced that the govern- ment is entirely in the hands of Mr. Walpole, lord Townshend, and the duke of Newcastle, who are on the best terms with the duchess of Kendal. The king visits her every afternoon from five to eight ; and it is there that she endeavours to penetrate the senti- ments of his Britannic majesty. . . . I am convinced that she may be ad- vantageously employed in promoting your majesty's service, and that it will be necessary to employ her : though I -would not trust her farther than is absolutely necessary. , . . It is much to be wished, for the maintenance of the union between your majesty and the king of England, that no misfortune may happen to Mr. Walpole, he being absolutely the helm of government. The king cannot do without him, on account of his great influence in the house of commons, where he depends entirely upon him in every respect. He is a man of great abilities, and very enterj^rising. The house places a most unreserved con- fidence in him, and he has the address to persuade them that the national honour is dearer to him than all the wealth in the world. He is very ably seconded by Townshend, who is a man of great capacity, and with whom he is in perfect harmony. The duke of Newcastle, who is indebted to him for his situation, submits to his judgment in everything; so that the king experi- >.:...:, ,/./■ King George II. and Queen Caroline 245 adhere to. She was at least seven or eight hours tetc-a-tete with the King every day, during which time she was generally saying what she did not think, assenting to what she did not believe, and praising what she did not approve ; for they were seldom of the same opin- ion, and he too fond of his own for her ever at first to dare to controvert it. . , , She used to give him her opinion as jugglers do a card, by changing it imperceptibly, and making him believe he held the same with that he first pitched upon. But that which made these tete-a-tetcs seem heaviest was that he neither liked reading nor being read to (unless it was to sleep) : she was forced, like a spider, to spin out of her own bowels all the conversation with which the fly was taken. How- ever, to all this she submitted for the sake of powder, and for the reputation of having it. . . . Her every thought, word and act therefore tended and was calculated to preserve her influence there ; to him she sacrificed her time, for him she mortified her inclination ; she looked, spake and breathed but for him, like a weathercock to every capricious blast of his uncertain tem- per, and governed him (if such influ- ence so gained can bear the name of government) by being as great a slave to him thus ruled, as any other wife could be to a man who ruled her. For all the tedious hours she spent then in watching him whilst he slept, or the heavier task of entertaining him whilst he was awake, her single consolation was in reflecting she had power, and that people in coffee-houses and ruellcs were saying she governed this country, without knowing how dear the govern- ment of it cost her. . . . The day [29th October, 1734] be- fore the l)irthday the Court removed from Kensington to London ; and the Qiieen, who had long been out of order with a cough and a little lurking fever, notwithstanding she had been twice blooded, grew every hour worse and worse : however, the King lugged her the night she came from Kensington, the first of Farinelli's performances, to the opera, and made her the next day go through all the tiresome ceremonies of drawing-i'ooms and balls, the fa- tigues of heats and crowds, and every other disagreeable appurtenance to the celebration of a birthday. There was a strange affectation of an incapacity of being sick that ran through the whole Royal Family, which they car- ried so far that no one of them was more willing to own any other of the familv ill than to acknowledge them- selves to be so. . . . 1734- Sir Robert Walpole [the prime- minister] used always to go into Nor- folk twice in a year, for ten days in summer and twenty in November, and generally set out for his second expedi- tion the dav after the King's birthday : he w^as to do so now, and therefore to take his leave this evening of the Qiieen. . . . "You know. Madam," said he, " I can do nothing without you ; whatever my industry and watchfulness for your interest and w'elfare suggest, it is you must execute : you. Madam, are the sole mover of this Court ; whenever your hand stops, everything must stand still, and, whenever that spring is changed, the whole system and every inferior wheel must be changed too. If I can boast of any success in carrying on the King's affairs, it is a success, I am very free to own, I never could have had but by the mediation of your Majesty ... so much so that I not only never did do anything without you, but I know I never could ; and if this country have the misfortune to lose your Majesty, I should lind it as impossible, divested of 246 King George II. and Queen Caroline your assistance, to persuade the King into any measure he did not like, as, whilst we have the happiness of pos- sessing your ISIajesty, any minister would find it to persuade him into a step which you did not approve." . . . Lord Hervey told Sir Robert Walpole that he feared the King had overheard everything that had passed this evening between him and the Qiieen. Sir Robert started at this, and said, " If he has, it is impossible he can ever forgive me. . . . For God's sake find out whether it ivas so or not, and let 7ne know before I set out to-morrow morning for Norfolk.'''' . . . Lord Hervey was not a little pleased to find his conjectures had been false, and quickly made Sir Robert Walpole easy by a short note to tell him what the case had been. . . . ^735- One trouble arose on the King's going to Hanover which her ^SLijesty did not at all foresee, which was his becoming, soon after his arrival, so much attached to one Madame Wal- moden, a young married woman of the first fashion at Hanover, that nobody in England talked of anything but the declining power of the Qiieen, and the growing interest of this new favour- ite. . . . It is certain, too, that, from the very beginning of this new engagement, the King acquainted the Qiieen by letter of every step he took in it — of the growth of his passion, the progress of his applications, and their success — of every word as well as of every action that passed — so minute a description of her person, that had the Qiieen been a painter she might have drawn her rival's picture at six hundred miles distance. . . . By unreasonably hurrying himself to arrive in England, though he was as unreasonably sorry to return thither at all, he (the King) had made himself extremely ill ; for whilst he travelled in this violent manner, day and night, and almost without any rest, only for the pleasure of bragging how quick he moved, he had so heated his blood that he was feverish for several days after he returned. . . . This disorder was kept a great secret to all the Court, but the consequences of it were no secret. Everybody shared the warm and frequent sallies of his abominable temper, and everybody im- puted them to what was the joint though not the sole cause of these eruptions, which was the affliction he felt for the change of a German life to an English one. . . . After this last journey, Hanover had so completed the conquest of his affec- tions that there was nothing English ever commended in his presence that he did not always show, or pretend to show was surpassed by something of the same kind in Germany. No Eng- lish or even French cook could dress a dinner ; no English confectioner set out a desert ; no English player could act ; no English coachman could drive, or English jockey ride ; nor were any English horses fit to be drove or fit to be ridden ; no Englishman knew how to come into a room, nor any English- woman how to dress herself . . . whereas at Hanover all these things were in the utmost perfection. . . . In truth he hated the English, looked upon them all as king-killers and republicans, grudged them their riches as well as their liberty, thought them all overpaid, and said to Lady Sundon one day as she was waiting at dinner, just after he had returned from Ger- many, that he was forced to distribute liis favours here very differently from the manner in which he bestowed them at Hanover ; that there he rewarded people for doing their duty and serving WlJ.H£LMINA C H A II J. () T 1 A . qUEEN CAROLINE. King George II. and Queen Caroline 247 him well, but that here he was obliged to enrich people for being rascals, and buy them not to cut his throat. The Qiieen did not always think in a different style of the English, though she kept her thoughts more to herself than the King. . . . The love of rule, the thirst of dominion and the jealousy of prerogative were so strongly im- planted in her — the German and the Qiieen so rooted in her mind — that the King himself had not more at heart all the trappings and pageantry of sov- ereignty than she the essential parts of it. . . . 1736. In the mean time the people of all ranks grew every day more discon- tented at the King's stay in Germany. The people belonging to the Court were uneasy at it, as it made the Court so much more unpopular. . . . The tradesmen were all uneasy, as they thought the King's absence prevented people coming to town, and particu- larly for the birthday. . . . The ordi- nary and the godly people took the turn of pitying the poor Queen, and railing at his Majesty for using so good a wife, who had brought him so many fine children, so abominably ill. Some of them (and those who, if he had heard all this, would have fretted him most) used to talk of his age, and say, for a man at his time of day to be play- ing these youthful pranks, and fancy- ing himself in love, was quite ridicu- lous, as well as inexcusable. . . . To this familiar manner of talking were added several little ingenious manu- scripts : pasquinades were stuck up in several quarters of the town. . . . On St. James's gate this advertisement was pasted: — " Lost or strayed out of this house, a man who has left a wife and six children on the parish ; whoever will give any tidings of him to the churchwardens of St. James's Parish, so as he may be got again, shall receive four shillings and sixpence reward. N. B. This reward will not be increased, nobody judging him to deserve a Crown." . . . The Qiieen, at St. James's passed her common evenings just as she had done at Kensington : that is, in her private apartment at quadrille with her lady-in-waiting, Mrs. Schutz, and Lady Charlotte de Roussie ; whilst the Princess Caroline, Miss Dives (one of her maids of honour) and Lord Her- vey played pools at cribbage ; and the Duke, Princess Emily, and the rest of the chance-comers of the family played at basset. Mondays and Fridays, how- ever, there were public drawing-rooms in the great apartments, in the same manner as when the King used to be in London. This Friday . . . there was a public drawing-room as usual, to which neither the Prince nor Princess came ; the Prince [Frederick, the heir apparent had quarrelled bitterly with his parents] made no excuse, the Prin- cess pleaded a cold, but the only marks of it that appeared was a black-hood. . . . The Queen asked Lord Hervey if he had heard any of the particulars of yesterday's feast in Pail-Mall. . . . Lord Hervey said the Prince's speech in the morning was the most ingratia- ting piece of popularity that ever was composed. . . . , says the Queen, "popularity always makes me sick; but Fritz's popularity makes me vomit. I hear that yesterday, on his side of the house, they talked of the king's being cast away with the same sang-froid as you would talk of a coach being over- turned ; and that my good son strutted about as if he had been already King. Did you mind the air with which he came into my drawing-room in the morning? ... I swear his behaviour shocked me so prodigiously, that I could hardly bring myself to speak to 248 Kinor Georo^e II. and Oueen Caroline him." . . . "Vou do not imagine, I believe, now [said Lord Hervey] that the Prince has all that horror of being King, which you then supposed." " Oh," replied the Qiieen, *' he is such an ass that one cannot tell what he thinks : and yet he is not so great a fool as you take him for, neither." . . . The Princess Caroline, who loved her mother and disliked her brother in equal and extreme degrees, was in much the same state of mind as the Qiieen. . . . They neither of them made much cere- mony of wishing a hundred times a day that the Prince might fall down dead of an apoplexy — the Qiieen curs- ing the hour of his birth, and the Princess Caroline declaring she grudged him every hour he continued to breathe ; and reproaching Lord Hervey w^ith his weakness for having ever loved him, ... as well as being so great a dupe as to believe the nauseous beast (those were her words) cared for anybody but his own nauseous self. . . . Soon after . . . some of the Prince's letters were likewise printed. Those that had the greatest air of submis- sion were picked out on this occasion in order to move the compassion of the public. . . . This and other cir- cumstances made the King and Qiieen determine to have all the original letters and messages printed that had passed by the first night. . . . Lord Hervey the Queen desired might translate them. . . . The King and Queen were full as well pleased with giving Lord Her- vey this commission to call their son a liar in print, as he was to receive it, and charged him not to embellish the fool's letters in the translation, or to mend the spelling in the original. Lord Hervey took occasion upon this subject, among many others things, to say, he did not believe there ever was a father and son so thoroughly unlike in cverv particular as the King and Prince, and enumerated several points in which they differed, as little to the advantage of the Prince as to the dispraise or dis- pleasure of the King. . . . " My dear Lord," replied the Qiieen, " I will give it you under my hand, if you are in any fear of my relapsing, that my dear first- born is the greatest ass and the greatest liar, and the greatest canaille^ and the greatest beast in the whole world, and that I most heartily wish he was out of it." . . . On Wednesday, the 9th of Novem- ber (1737), the Qiieen was taken ill in the morning at her new Library in St. James's Park; she called her com- plaint the cholic, her stomach and bowels giving her great pain. She came home, took Daffy's Elixir by Dr. Tesier's, the German and house-physi- cian's advice; but was in such great pain . . . that she went to bed. How- ever, when the clock struck two, and the King proposed sending Lord Gran- tham to dismiss the company, and declare there would be no drawing- room, she, according to the custom of the family, not caring to own, or at least to have it generally known, how ill she was, told the King she was much better — that she would get up and see the company as usual. As soon as she came into the drawing- room she came up to Lord Hervey and said, "Is it not intolerable at my age to be plagued with a new distemper? Here is this nasty cholic that I had at Hampton Court come again." . . . Lord Hervey asked her what she had taken, and when she told him, he replied, "For God's sake. Madam, go to your own room ; what have you to do here?" . . . At last the King went away, telling the Qiieen as he went by, that she had overlooked the Duchess of Norfolk. The Qiieen made her excuse for having done so to the Duchess of Norfolk, the last person she ever spoke ( See rage J53.) King George II. and Queen Caroline 249 to in pul)lic, and tlien retired, going immediately into bed, where she grew worse every moment. . . . Lord Her- vey speaking to the King, who was now returned from Princess Emily's apartment, and began to be alarmed. Dr. Broxholme was immediately sent for by Lord Hervey. When he came, Tesier and he agreed to give the Oueen immediately some snake-root with Sir Walter Raleigh's cordial. . . . Soon after the snake-root and Sir Walter Raleigh's cordial arrived from the apothecary's; it was taken and thrown up about an hour after. All these strong things, twice Daffy's Elixir, mint-water, usquebaugh, snake-root, and Sir Walter Raleigh's Cordial, had, without easing the Qiieen's pain, so increased her fever, that the doctors ordered Ranby to bleed her twelve ounces immediately. . . . Her vomiting was suspended for a few hours this morning. . . . On this amendment, as everybody called it, but few really thought it, the King resolved to have a levee, and that the Princess Emily should see the company at the usual hour of the Qiieen's going into her drawing-room ; and to show what odd and inconsistent particulars we are all composed of, this being the day the Foreign ISIinisters came to Court, the King, in the midst of all his real and great concern for the Qiieen, sent to his pages to bid them be sure to have his last new rufHes sewed on upon the shirt he was to put on that day at his public dressing. Such sort of particu- lars will seem very trifling to those who do not think, like me, that trifling circumstances often let one more into people's tempers and characters than those parts of their conduct that are of greater importance, from which one frequently knows no more of their natu- ral turn of mind than one does of their natural gait whilst they are dancing. . . . This night two more physicians were called in. Sir Hans vSloane and Dr. Hulst, who ordered blisters and aperi- ents : these came up, like every other thing, soon after she had swallowed it, and the blisters, though a remedy to which the King and Qiieen had often declared themselves very averse, were put upon her legs. . . . At six o'clock on Friday morning the Qiieen was again blooded. . . . When Ranby returned he brought one Shipton with him, a City surgeon. . . . By this time, too. Busier arrived, and these three attended her constantly. After they had examined the Qiieen, they all told the King she was in the utmost danger. Busier proposed mak- ing an operation with the knife to en- able them to replace the protrusion, which Ranby opposed as full of imme- diate danger and thinking that the tumour might be reduced by less violent means. . . . About four o'clock on Sunday morning the 13th, the Qiieen complaining that her wound was ex- tremely painful, and desiring to have it dressed, Ranby and Shipton were called in to her, and upon opening the wound declared it had already begun to mor- tify. . . . It is not necessary to examine whether the Qiieen's reasoning was good or bad in wishing the King, in case she died, should marry again : — It is certain she did wish it ; had often said so when he was present, and when he was not present, and when she was in health, and gave it now as her advice to him when she was dying — upon which his sobs began to rise and his tears to fall with double vehemence. Whilst in the midst of this passion, wiping his eyes, and sobbing between every word, with much ado he got out this answer : Non^ f aurai des maitresses. . . . To which the Qiieen made no other reply than '''•ah I 1)10)1 Dieiil ccla )i' c»ipeche 250 King George II. and Queen Caroline pas.'" I know this episode will hardly be credited, but it is literally true. . . . On Sunday morning, about nine o'clock, the surgeons, upon opening the Qiieen's wound, found the mortification was not spread ; and upon cutting off what was already mortified, declared she might recover. This appeared so inconsistent with their declarations some hours before, and in my opinion showed so much ignorance, that if a life of this consequence, committed to the care of four of the best physicians and three of the best surgeons in England, received no better assistance from their skill, how natural it is to deplore the situation of those whose safety depends on the sagacity of these professions, and how reasonable to despise those who put their trust in such aids ! Not that I am so unjust to surgery as to put that science upon the same foot with physic ; and for my own part I firmly believe there was not the least mortification begun, when they ignorantly pro- nounced there was. . . . The King had been particularly anxious this whole day from w^hat the Qiieen had said with regard to her dying of a Wednesday, which could not be much wondered at, since a mind much less addicted to superstitions than his Majesty's might have been a little affected. . . . Could it then be sur- prising that a man who believed in ghosts and witches should not be proof? . . . During this time the King talked perpetually to Lord Hervey ... of the Qiieen's good qualities. . , . He said she was the best wife, the best mother, the best companion, the best friend, and the best woman that ever was born ; . . . that he had never seen her out of humour in his life, that he had passed more hours with her than he believed any other two people in the world had ever passed together, and that he had never been tired in her company one minute. . . . These w^ere the terms in which he was forever now talking of the Qiieen, and in which he likewise talked to her ; and yet so unaccountable were the sud- den sallies of his temper, and so little was he able or willing to command them, that in the midst of all this flow of tenderness he hardly ever went into her room that he did not, even in this moving situation, snub her for some- thing or other she said or did. When her constant uneasiness, from the sick- ness in her stomach and the soreness of her wound, would make her shift her postui'e every minute, he would say ta her, " How the devil should you sleep, when you will never lie still a moment ?" . . . When the King came into her room in the morning, as she lay with her eyes fixed at a point in the air . . . the King with a loud and quick voice said to her, " Mon Dicu^ g?i' cst-ce-g?ie vons regardez? Coinme7it peat-on fixer ses yeiix comme qa? Vos vc?/x I'essonblcJit a ceux (f tin veau a qui o7i vient de couper la g07'ge / " . . . About ten o'clock on Sunday night — the King being in bed and asleep on the floor at the feet of the Queen's bed, and the Princess Emily in a couch-bed in a corner of the room — the Queen began to rattle in her throat ; and Mrs. Purcel giving the alarm that she was expiring, all in the room started up. Princess Caroline was sent for, and Lord Her- vey, but before the last arrived the Qiieen was just dead. All she said before she died, was, " I have now got an asthma. Open the window." . . . The King kissed the face and hands of the lifeless body several times, but in a few minutes left the Qiieen's apart- ment. . . . The grief he felt for the (^ueen, as it was universally known and showed a tenderness of which the world thought him before utterly in- ( See page 253.) King George II. and Queen Caroline 251 capable, made him for some time more popular and better spoken of than he had ever been before this incident, or than I believe he ever will be again. He was thoroughly unaffected on this occasion, and by being so (as odd as it may seem to say this) perplexed those who were about him. 3. Lord Chesterfield's character of Qiieen Caroline. (Works, Vol. II. P- 437-) Qiieen Caroline had lively, pretty parts, a quick conception, and some degree of female knowledge ; and would have been an agreeable woman in social, if she had not aimed at being a great one in public life. . . . Cunning and perfidy were the means she made use of in business, as all women do, for want of better. She showed her art most in her management of the King, whom she governed abso- lutely, by a seeming complaisance and obedience to all his humours ; she even favoured and promoted his gallanteries. She had a dangerous ambition, for it was attended with courage, and, if she had lived much longer, might have proved fatal either to herself or the con- stitution. . . . Upon the whole, the agreeable 'woniaii was liked by most people ; but the ^uecn was neither esteemed, be- loved nor trusted, by anybody but the King. A Ballad of the Day. (From Morris: Early Hanoverians, p. S2.) You may strut, dapper George, but 'twill all be in vain; We know 'tis Queen Caroline, not you, that reign— You govern no more than Don Philip ot Spain. Then if jou would have us fall down and adore you, Lock up your fat spouse, as your dad did before vou. 3. Lord Chesterfield's Character of George II. (Works, Vol. 11. p. 434.) . . . Everything in his composition was little ; and he had all the weak- nesses of a little mind, without any of the virtues, or even the vices, of a great one. He loved to act the King, but mistook the part ; and the Royal dig- nity shrunk into the Electoral pride. He was educated upon that scale, and never enlarged its dimensions with his dominions. As Elector of Hanover he thought himself great ; as King of Great Britain only rich. Avarice, the meanest of all passions, was his ruling one ; and I never knew him deviate into any generous action. . . . In Council he was excessively timor- ous, and thought by many to be so in person ; but of this I can say nothing on my own knowledge. In his dress and in his conversation he affected the hero so much, that from thence only many called his courage in question. . . . Little things, as he has often told me himself, affected him more than great ones ; and this was so true, that I have often seen him put so much out of humour at his private levee, by a mis- take or blunder of a valet de chanibrc, that the gaping crowd admitted to his pulilic levee have, from his looks and silence, concluded that he had just received some dreadful news. Tacitus would always have been deceived by him. . . . lie well knew that he was governed by the Qiieen, while she lived ; and that she was governed by Sir Robert Walpole : but he kept that secret inviolablv, and flattered himself that nobody had discovered it. . . . He was very well-bred ; but it was in a stiff and formal manner, and pro- duced in others that restraint which they saw he was iiuder himself. . . . He died unlaniented, though not un- praised because he was dead. 2 52 King George II. and Queen Caroline Upon the whole, he was rather a weak than a bad man or King. His government was mild as to prerogative, but burthensome as to taxes. ... I have dwelt the longer upon this char- acter, because I was so long and so well acquainted with it; for above thirty years I was always near his person, and had constant opportunities of observing him, both in his Regal robes and in his undress. I have ac- companied him in his pleasures, and been employed in his business. I have, by turns, been as well and as ill with him as any man in England. Impartial and unprejudiced, I have drawn this character from the life, and after a forty years sitting. 4. Extract from Mrs. Calderwood's Account of her Journey into England. (In Coltness Collection, ISIaitland Club, 1S42, p. 1 18.) 1756. ... I went one morning to the Park in hopes to see the Duke review a troop of the Horse Guards, but he was not there ; but the Guards were verv prettv. Sail Blackwood and Miss Buller were with me ; they were afraid to push near for the croud, but I was resolved to get forward, so pushed in. They were very surly, and one of them asked nie where I would be, would I have my toes trode off? " Is your toes trode off.?" said I. '' Xo," said he. "Then give me your place and I'll take care of my toes." "But they are going to fire," said he. " Then its time for you to march off," said I, " for I can stand lire. I wish your troops may do as well." On which he sneaked off and gave me his place. . , . I paid some visits, and went to see Greenwich Hospitall, which is a ridicu- lous fine thing. The view is very pretty, which you see just as well in a rary-show glass. No wonder the Eng- lish are transported with a place they can see about them in. The only fine houses I went to see more were the King's at Kensingtoun, and the Jew's I wrote you of. The palace looks bet- ter within than without, and there is some very fine marbles, pictures and mirrors in it. But I could not see the private apartment of the old goodman, which they say is a great curiosity. There are a small bed with silk cur- tains, two sattin quilts and no blanket, a hair mattress ; a plain wicker basket stands on a table, with a silk nightgown and night-cap in it ; a candle with an extinguisher ; some billets of wood on each side of the fire. He goes to bed alone, rises, lights his fire and mends it himself, and nobody knows when he rises, which is very early, and is upp severall hours before he calls anybody. He dines in a small room adjoining, in which there is nothing but very com- mon things. He sometimes, they say, sups with his daughters and their com- pany, and is very merry and sings French songs, but at present he is in very low spirits. 5. Lord Waldegrave's character of George II. (Memoirs, London, 1S21, p. 4.) 1758. The King is in his 75th year; but temperance and an excellent constitu- tion have hitherto preserved him from many of the infirmities of old age. . . . He has as much personal bravery as any man, though his political courage seems somewhat problematical : how- ever, it is a fault on the right side ; for had he always been as firm and un- tlaiuited in the closet as he shewed himself at Oudenarde and Dettingen, he might not have proved quite so good a king in this limited monarcliy. In the drawing-room, he is gracious and polite to the ladies, and remarkably cheerful and familiar with those who aie handsome, or with the few of his '}^^!7{^'msmii:^ C N. S A U I P I (> F i: L I C" I ORB IS A R T i \ M MAKTIS UK /UKITf.KS flS'Xrr ,■1111 iM.i^ i;/ /.iv»/<-' r/i f ri '' The Seven Years' War 255 cfushing defeat by the Russians at Kuneisdorf and the surrender of 12,000 men at Maxen. Liegnitz and Torgau helped still furtlier to restore the bal- ance ; but even victories meant the loss of men whom it was impossible now to replace. Frederick's enemies could draw from a population numbering 60 million souls, Prussia could boast of but four million and a half. The French often outnumbered Ferdinand of Brunswick by two to one, while in 1 761 , Frederick could muster but 96,000 against three times as many of the Rus- sians and Austrians. In the midst of all this came the news from England that Pitt had fallen and been replaced by the pacific Bute, who did not renew the military convention with Prussia. The subsidies ceased ; Frederick was coldly told to make peace even at the price of some of his provinces. Bute was ready for his own part to sacrifice almost any of his recent conquests; ready, too, to descend to almost any depths of political ignominy. Could disloyalty to a former ally have well gone fui'ther than the sending of an envoy to the Russian court to urge it to continue its armies in the field, lest Frederick, having free play against Maria Theresa, might push his advan- tage and thus prolong the struggle ? It was the news of conduct like this that made England's own representative, Mitchell, cry out in agony, " I am tired of my accursed trade." Frederick himself took matters more calmly. " The English thought," he wrote later, " that money did every- thing and that there was no money except in England." But he never for- gave this base desertion ; when Eng- land' s war with her American colonies broke out, all his sympathies were with the latter, and on the Hessian soldiers who were bought to fight across the water he placed the same tax, when they crossed his domains, as on cattle going to slaughter. He was kept from despair now by the death of his arch enemy Elizabeth, wdiose successor Peter the Third had always looked on Fred- erick as a hero, and is even said to have sent him anonymous warnings. The very troops that had fought against him were made for a moment to fight on his side, and though the death of Peter soon necessitated their recall they were not again employed against him. The Peace of Hubertsburg finally put an end to the war, from which Frederick emerged neither richer nor poorer in land, but immeasurably higher in pres- tige. England received from the French, Canada and that part of the present United States which is east of the Mississipi.] GROUP XXVII. THE ACCESSIOX OF GEORGE III. I. Extracts from Waldegrave's ^Memoirs. (London, 1S21, p. 63.) 1756. I had been appointed governor to the Prince of Wales towards the end of the year 1752, when Earl Harcourt re- signed. ... I found his Royal Fligh- ness uncommonly full of princely prej- udices, contracted in the nurserv, and improved by the society of bed-chamber women, and pages of the back- stairs. As a right system of education seemed quite impracticable, the best which could be hoped for was to give him true notions of common things ; to instruct him by conversation, rather than by books ; and sometimes, under the disguise of amusement, to entice 256 The Accession of George III. him to tne pursuit oi more serious studies. . . . 175S. The Prince of Wales is entering into his 2 1st year, and it would be unfair to decide upon his character in the early stages of life, when there is so much .time for improvement. His parts, though not excellent, will he found very tolerable, if ever they are properly exercised. He is strictly honest, but wants that frank and open behaviour which makes honesty appear amiable. When he had a very scanty allowance, it was one of his favorite maxims that men should be just before they are generous : his income is now very considerably augmented, but his generosity has not increased in equal proportion. His religion is free from all hypocrisy, but is not of the most charitable sort ; he has rather too much attention to the sins of his neighbour. He has spirit, but not of the active kind ; and does not want resolution, but it is mixed with too much obstinacy. He has great command of his passions, anil will seldom do wrong, except when he mistakes wrong for right ; but as often as this' shall happen, it will be difficult to undeceive him, because he is uncommonly indolent, and has strong prejudices. His want of application and aversion to business would be far less dangerous, was he eager in the pursuit of pleasure; for the transition from pleasure to busi- ness is both shf)rfer and easier than from a state of total inaction. He has a kind of imhappiness in his temper, which, if it be not conquered before it has taken too ileep a root, will be a source of fre(juent anxiety. When- ever lie is displeased, his anger does not break out with heat and violence ; but he becomes sullen and silent, and re- tires to his closet ; not to compose his mind bv studv or contemplation, 1)ut merely to indulge the melancholy enjoy- ment of his own ill humor. Even when the fit is ended, unfavorable symptoms very,.: *< frequently return, which indicate that on certain occasions his Royal Highness has too correct a memory. Though I have mentioned his good and bad qualities, without f^attei-y, and without aggravation, allowances should still be made, on account of his youth, and his bad education. . . . The mother and the nursery always pre- vailed. ■■"->^ • ■•J- During the course of the 'la'st -year,^ there has indeed, been some alteration ; the authority of the nursery has grad- ually declined, and the Earl of Bute, by the assistance of the mother, has now the entire confidence. But whether this change will be greatly to his Royal Highness' s advantage, is a nice ques- tion, which cannot hitherto be deter- mined with any certainty. 1755- . . . He [Lord Bute] had been a lord of the bedchamber to the late prince [Frederick] ; has a good person, fine legs, and a theatrical air of the greatest importance. There is an extraordinary appear- ance of wisdom, both in his look and manner of speaking ; for whether the subject be serious or trifling, he is equally pompous, slow, and sententious. Not contented with being wise, he would be thought a polite scholar, and a man of great erudition : but has the misfortune never to succeed except with those who are exceeding ignorant : for liis historical knowledge is chiefly taken from tragedies, wherein he is very deeply read ; and his classical learning extends no farther than a French trans- lation. The late Prince of Whales, who was not overnice in the choice of ministers, used frecjuently to say that Bute was a & firfif man isaf in c1-». » ftxf, ^Vuj5 jfiJrn ^«t- 3rx:run^ruTu; tx«,» c t /uni Xrir^ jj i^jts Jr^S^iTOtl SflJainfcftrizfflfTrjRKrfre hmr^ua ant -,'-7'^ y"- "ji Jhi'-^ - . , l -.•',. - I' -f^^ o™^ r.=ci; Jti-ncii<-ur,r Ci^- I ^„o„ ^es Janus ^riiff^. j- : ^irT-jTrnt Janus ■i&nnfnni , ^aH i^ufi- ioatrf ^rr^ -cirttn£a£. FREDERICK AND PETER MAKING PEACE. ContL-mporarj news leaf. ( See page ^55.) To ^'"^ '' - '-"-^^ ^ . / '■'f. The Accession of George III. 257 fine showy man, who would make an excellent ambassador in a court where there was no business. Such was his Royal Highness' s opinion of the noble earl's political abilities; but the sagac- ity of the princess dowager has discov- ered other accomplishments, of which the prince her husliand may not per- haps have been the most competent judge. . . . 1756. . . . The Princess of Wales's unlim- ited confidence in the Earl of Bute has been already mentioned; and by, the good offices of the mother, he also became the avowed favorite of the young prince, who was just entering into his nineteenth year, the time of his majority, in case the king had been dead. 2. Lord Chesterfield's Character of Lord Bute. Written in 1764. (In Works, Vol. IL p. 470.) The Earl of Bute was of an ancient family in Scotland. . . . He married the daughter of Wortley Montague, by Lady Mary Pierrepont, eminent for her parts and her vices. . . . She proved an immense fortune by the death of her father and mother, who, disinheriting their son, left her five or six hundred thousand pounds. . . . He [Lord Bute] came to town, five or six years before the death of the late Frederick Prince of Wales, to whom he wholly attached himself. He soon got to be at the head of the pleasures of that little, idle, frivolous and dissipated Court. He was the Intciidant of balls, the Coryphoeus of plays, in which he acted himself, and so grew into a sort of favourite of that merry Prince. The Scandalous Chronicle says, that he was still a greater favourite of the Princess of Wales : I will not, nor cannot decide upon that fact. . . . When Frederick Prince of Wales died, and the present King George the Third became immediate Heir to the Crown, Lord Bute very prudently at- tached himself wholly to him, not only with the approbation, but I believe, at the request, of the Princess Dowager. In this he succeeded beyond his most sanguine wishes. He entirely engrossed not only the affections, but even the senses of the young Prince, who seemed to have made a total surrender of them all to Lord Bute. In this interval^ between the death of the Princess of Wales and the expected death of King George the Second, the Princess Dow- ager and Lord Bute agreed to keep the young Prince entirely to themselves; none but their immediate and lowest creatures were suffered to approach him except at his levees, where none are seen as they are ; he saw nobody, and nobody saw him : Lord Bute, indeed, was with him alone some hours every day, to instruct him, as he pretended, in the art of Government ; but whether or no any man labours to instruct and inform the Prince whom he means one day to govern is with me a very doubt- ful point. At length the wished-for day came, and the death of King George the Second made room for King George the Third. He, like a new Sultan, was lugged out of the Seraglio by the Princess and Lord Bute, and placed upon the Throne. Here the new scene opened : Lord Bute arrived from the greatest favour to the highest power and took no care to dissemble or soften either, in the eyes of the public, who always look upon them with envy and malignity ; but on the contrary, avowed them botii openly. He interfered in everything, disposed of everything, and undertook everything, much too soon for his inex- perience in business. 2s8 The Accession of George III. 3. Lord Chesterfield's character of Pitt. Written in 1762. (In Works, Vol. II. p. 467.) Mr. Pitt owed his rise to the most considerable posts and power in this kingdom singly to his own abilities. In him they supplied the want of birth and fortune, which latter in others too often supply the want of the former. He was a younger brother of a very new family, and his fortune only an annuity of one hundred pounds a year. His constitution refused him the usual pleasures, and his genius forbad him the idle dissipations, of youth ; for so early as at the age of sixteen he was the martyr of an hereditary gout. He therefore employed the leisure, which tliat tedious and painful distemper either procured or allowed him, in acquiring a great fund of prematui'e and useful knowledge. . . His ruling pas- sion was an unbounded ambition, which, when supported by great abilities, and crowned with great success, make what the world calls "a great man." He was haughty, imperious, impatient of contradiction, and over-bearing : qual- ities which too often accompany, but always clog great ones. . . . He came young into Parliament, and upon that great theatre soon equalled the oldest and the ablest actors. His eloquence was of every kind, and he excelled in the argumentative as well as in the declamatory way. But his invec- tives were terrible, and uttered with such energy of diction, and stern dig- nity of action and countenance, that he intimidated those who were the most willing and tiie best able to encounter him. Their arms fell out of tiicir hands, and they shrunk under the ascendant wliich liis genius gained over tlieirs. . . . The weight of his popularity, and his universally acknowledged abilities, obtriuled him upon King George the Second, to whom he was personally obnoxious. He was made Secretary of State ; in this difficult and delicate sit- uation. ... he managed with such ability that, while he served the King more effectually ... he still preserved all his credit and popularity with the public ; whom he assured and convinced, that the protection and defence of Han- over, with an army of seventy-five thousand men in British pay, was the only possible method of securing our possessions or acquisitions in North America. So much easier is it to deceive than to undeceive mankind. 4. Horace Walpole, Memoirs of George II. (London, 1S47, P* ^4-) 1758. Pitt was now arrived at undisturbed possession of that influence in affairs at which his ambition had aimed, and which his presumption had made him flatter himself he could exert like those men of superior genius, whose talents have been called forth by soroe crisis to retrieve a sinking nation. He had said the last year to the Duke of Devon- shire, " My Lord, I am sure I can save this country, and nobody else can." It were ingratitude to him to say that he did not give such a reverberation to our stagnating Councils, as exceedingly altered the appearance of our fortune. He warded off the evil hour that seemed approaching ; he infused vigour into our arms ; he taught the nation to speak again as England used to speak to Foreign Powers ; and so far from dreading invasions from France, he affected to turn us into invaders. 5. Extract from Walpole' s Memoirs of the Reign of George III. (London and New York, 1S94.) Xo British monarch has ascended the throne with so many advantages as George the Third. Being the first of The Accession of George III. 259 his line born in England, the prejudice against his family as foreigners ceased in his person — Hanover was no longer the native soil of our Princes ; conse- quently, attachment to the Electorate was not likely to govern our councils, US it had done in the last two reigns. This circumstance, too, of his birth, shifted the unpopularity of foreign extraction from the House of Bruns- wick to the Stuarts. In the flower iind bloom of youth, George had a handsome, open, and honest counte- nance ; and with the favour that attends the outward accomplishments of his age, he had none of the vices that fall under the censure of those who are past enjoying them themselves. The moment of his accession was fortunate beyond example. . . . The administration was firm, in good har- mony with one another, and headed by the most successful genius [Pitt] that €ver presided over our councils. Con- quests had crowned our arms with wonderful circumstances of glory and fortune ; and the young King seemed to have the option of extending our victories and acquisitions, or of giving j:)cace to the world, by finding himself in a situation so favourable, that neither his ambition nor moderation could have been equitably reprehended. . . . A passionate, domineering woman, and a Favourite, without talents, soon drew a cloud over this shining prospect. . . . The measure of war was pushed, without even a desire that it should be successful ; and . , . although success- ful, it was unnaturally checked by a peace, too precipitate, too indigested, and too shameful, to merit the coldest eulogy of moderation. . . . In his first council the King named his brother the Duke of York, and Lord Bute, of the Cabinet. . . . The King's speech to his council afforded matter of remark, and gave early speci- men of who was to be the confidential minister, and what measures were to be pursued : for it was drawn by Lord Bute. ... It talked of a bloody and expcfisive ivai'^ and of obtaining- an honotirable and lasting peace. Thus was it delivered ; but Mr. Pitt went to Lord Bute that evening, and, after an altercation of three hours, prevailed that in the printed copy the words should be changed to an expctisivc but Just and necessa7-y -war ; and that after \.\\e. words /lonourablc peace should be inserted, in concert -with onr allies. ... It was two o'clock of the follow- ing afternoon before the King would yield to the alteration. . . . Mr. Pitt v/as too quick-sighted not to perceive what would be the complexion of the new reign. His favourite war was already struck at. He himself had for some time been on the coldest terms with Lord Bute ; for possession of power, and reversion of power could not fail to make two natures so haughty, incompatible. It was said, and I believe with truth, that an outset so unpromising to his darling measures made Mr. Pitt propose to the Duke of Newcastle a firm vmion against the Favourite. . . . Whether these two men, so powerful in Parliament and in the nation, could have balanced the headlong affection that attends every new young Prince, is uncertain, — I think they could. A war so triumphant had captivated the whole country. The Favourite was unknown, ungracious and a Scot : his connexion with the Princess, an object of scandal. . . . At least the union of Pitt and Newcastle would have checked the torrent, which soon carried everything in favour of Prerogative. Newcastle's time-serving undermined Mr. Pitt, was destructive to himself, threw away all the advan- tages of the war, and brought the countrv to the brink of ruin. . . . 2 6o The Accession of George III. As far as could be discerned of the King's natural disposition it was hu- mane and benevolent. . . . Silence served him to bear with unwelcome ministers, or to part with them. His childhood was tinctured with obstinacy : it was adopted at the beginning of his reign, and called firmness, but did not prove to be his complexion. In truth, it would be difficult to draw his char- acter in positive colours. He had neither passions nor activity. He re- signed himself obsequiously to the gov- ernment of his mother and Lord Bute : learned, and even entered with art into the lessons they inspired, but added nothing of his own. When the task was done, he relapsed into indifference and indolence till roused to the next day's part. The indecent and injudicious precip- itation with which the Favourite's fac- tion hurried towards peace, justified any steadiness Mr. Pitt could exert to keep the balance where he had placed it, in our own hands. . . . While the attention of mankind hung on the negotiation [with France, for peace], the King's messengers were suddenly sent forth to all privv Coun- cillors to meet at one o'clock, at St. James's July Sth, on urgent and impor- tant business. The business itsself was an absolute secret. Everybodv con- cluded that so solemn and unusual a summons of the Council was to give fuller sanction to peace. How great v/as the general surprise v.hen they heard his Majesty had convened this assembly to notify his intended mar- riage with the princess of Mecklenburg Strelitz ! A resolution taken and con- ducted with so much mvsterv, that till that hour perhaps not six men in Eng- land knew such a Princess existed. . . The King was fallen in love with Lady Sarah Lennox, sister of the Duke of Richmond ; a verv voung ladv of the most blooming beauty. . - . What concurred to make her formidable to the mother and favourite, w^as, her being under the tutorage of ]Mr, Fox, her eldest sister's husband; and in truth, she and her family spared no assiduity to fix the young monarch's heart. . . . The King's overtures were so encouraging, that Fox's views ex- tended even to placing the young lady on the throne ... he (Fox) left Lady Sarah at Holland House, where she appeared every morning in a field close to the great road (where the King passed on horseback) in a fancied habit, making hay. Such mutual propensity fixed the re- solution of the Princess. One, Colonel Graeme, w-as despatched in the most private manner as a traveller, and vested with no character, to visit various little Protestant Courts, and make report of the qualifications of the several un- married princesses. Beauty, and still less, talents, were not, it is likely, the first objects of his instructions. On the testimony of this man the golden apple was given to the Princess of Mecklen- burg ; and the marriage precipitately concluded. . . . So complete was the King's deference to the will of his mother, that he blindly accepted the bride she had chosen for him ; though to the very day of the council, he carried on his courtsliip to Lady Sarah ; and she did not doubt of receiving the crown from him, till she heard the public declaration of its being designed for another. 6. Extract from the Stuart MSS. (In Jesse, Memoirs of Geo. III. Vol. L p. 90. ) {^Account of ^iicen CJiarlotte by- Sophia Stuart^ daf(j^/itcr-in-la~iu of Lord Bute.) In the latter years of Queen Char- lotte's life, I used often to spend some days at the Castle, and in one of these The Accession of Georore III. 261 visits heard her Majesty describe her own wedding. She described her life at Mecklenburg as one of extreme re- tirement. They dressed only en robe dc chambrc except on Sundays, on which day she put on her best gown, and after service, which was very long, took an airing in the coach and six, -attended by guards and all the state she could muster. She had not " dined at table" at the period I am speaking of. One morning, her eldest brother, of whom she seems to have stood in great awe, came to her room in company, with the Duchess, her mother. He told her to prepare her best clothes, for they were to have grand convert to receive an ambassador from the King of England, and that she should for the first time dine with them. He added : — "You will sit next him at dinner: mind what you say, and ne faites fas r enfant'' — a favourite expression of his — " and try to amuse him, and show him that you are not a fool." She then asked her mother if she was to put on her blue tabby — " tf/ 7nes bijoux V — '■'' Mo?i enfant^'' said the Duchess, " tn Ji' en as points And the Queen produced her garnet ear- rings, which were strings of beads sown on a plate, about the size of a half-crown, and were then in fashion ; but which, as she said, a housemaid of these days would despise. Thus at- tired, she followed her mother into the saloon, and ]Mr. Drummond was intro- duced to her. To her great surprise her brother led her out first, which she supposed he did because it ^vas her first appearance. Mr. Drummond sat at her right hand. She asked him about his journey, and of England, and then added : — " On }nc dit que voire Roi est tres extrenienioit bean et tres-aim- able" which seemed to raise a smile both in him and tlie Duke. A little frightened, she next added : — " Appa- remment vons etas vcnu dcmandcr la Princesse dc Priissc. On dit qu' die est tres-belle ct gu'elle sera voire Reine?" " y'c demande pardon a voire Aliessc ; jc n' ai aucune com- mission po?ir cela." And the smiles were so striking that she had not cour- age to open her lips again. In a few minutes, however, the folding-doors flew open to the saloon, which she saw splendidlv illuminated; and there ap- peared a table, two cushions, and every- thing prepared for a wedding. Her brother then gave her his hand ; and, leading her in, used his favourite ex- pression : — '"'' Allons^ ne faites pas V enfant — /// vas etre Reine d' Angle- terre." jNIr. Drummond then ad- vanced. Thev knelt down. The cere- mony, whatever it was, proceeded. She was laid on the sofa, upon which he laid his foot; and they all embraced her, calling her, " la Reine." Mr. Drummond then gave her a magnificent ecrin of diamonds, one jewel of which was a little crown which I have often seen her wear. The evening passed in admiring the jewels and putting them on. She declared from that moment she saw and knew nothing, and was quite bewildered. Mr. Drummond pressed for departure. She begged for one week, that she might take leave of every person and spot, and particularly of her mother, of whom she was very fond. She told me that she ran about from morning till night visiting the poor, to whom, she said, a nosegay or a little fruit were more acceptable than food. And wherever she lived she had a garden made for this purpose. She kept poultrv also for the same object. When the day for ber departure came, she set out for the sea-coast accom- panied by her mother, who consigned her to the hands of the Duchess of Ancaster and Lady Effingham ; she spoke of the agony of that parting. 262 The Accession of George III. even utter so many years, in a manner that showed what it must have been. Her mother was in bad health, but promised to come over in the Spring, which, however, she never lived to fid- fil. . . . She was an excellent French scholar ; well read in her own lan- guage ; wrote a very pretty hand ; played on the guitar and piano, or rather spinette, having learned of Bach, and sung very sweetly and correctly. She also danced a very fine minuet, the dance of the day ; had a lovely com- plexion, fine hair and teeth, and the neatest little petite figure, with a pecu- liar elegance. 7. Extracts from Horace Walpole. Some coquet attempts, which Lady Sarah [Lennox] afterwards made to recover his [George's] notice, and her stooping to bear the Qiieen's train as bridemaid, did her more prejudice than all that was invented against her. . . . In mv opinion the King had thoughts of her as a wife, but wanted resolution to oppose his mother and Lord Bute. Fortunately, no doubt, in this instance ; for the daughter of a subject, and the sister-in-law of so ambitious and excep- tionable a man as Fox, would probably have been productive of most serious consequences. To avoid returning to this topic, I will only remember that, during the wedding service, on mention of Abraham and .Sarah, the King could not conceal his confusion. And the day following, when every body was presented to the Qiiecn, Lord West- moreland, old and dimsighted, seeing Ladv Sarah in the rich habit of bride- maid, mistook her for (^uecn, and was going to kneel and kiss her hand. But while the arrival of the (^ueen was expected, and the approaching ceremonies of the wedding and corona- tion engrossed the attention of the jMib- lic, affairs grew towards a serious crisis in the Cabinet. . . . In the end of August, the council had ordered their ultimate concessions to be drawn and sent to France. Mr. Pitt made the draught and carried it to Council. The other ministers thought it spoke his sense, not theirs ; or rather, contained more of an ultimatum than they were disposed to adhere to. In defence of his own inflexibility, Mr. Pitt spoke largely on the haughtiness of France, Lord Hardwicke said he approved our not submitting to their haughtiness, and congratulated his country in not having been behind hand with them in that respect. Lord Granville took the draught and applauded it exceedingly ; said it deserved to be inserted in the Acta Regia ; but for his part he did not love fine letters on business. He thovight even bad Latin preferable to good in negotiations. These speeches raised Pitt's choler ; and with reason. He had vindicated the honour of his country ; and now was supporting it with a dignity it had never known since the days of Crom- well. He saw himself abandoned and ridiculed by his master's ministers; but he was not a man to recoil before such adversaries. If he had assumed an unwari'antable tone, his situation might well justify it. He broke out with great asperity, and told them dictatori- ally, they should not alter an iota of the letter. Rhodomontade had been too favourite a figure with Lord Gran- ville to leave him the dupe of it in another man. . . . He neither admired Pitt's exalted diction, nor exalted views. . . . The Duke of Bedford, whom the rest always summoned when they w anted to combat Pitt and did not dare, said, "he did not know why he was ealled to council, if he was not at lib- The Accession of George III. 26 erty to debate; nml since he was told they were not to be permitted to alter an iota, he would come thither no more," and retired. Some of the others were less stout. Lord Bute said little, but that he thought the King's honour was concerned in sticking to our own terms. . . . On the 25th, another coun- cil was held, to which, notwithstanding his declaration, the Duke of Bedford returned. . . . Pitt at this council was more temperate, and submitted to some small concessions. On the 7th of September, the nevy Qiieen landed at Harwich, . . . Her temper appeared to be lively and her understanding sensible and quick. Great good-nature, set off by much grace in her manner, recommended all she said. Her person was small, and very lean, but well made. Her face pale and homely, her nose something flat, her mouth very large. Her hair was of a fine brown, and her counten- ance pleasing. When first she saw the palace she trembled. The Duchess of Hamilton smiled. The Qiieen said, "You may laugh ; you have been married twice ; but it is no joke to me." The King received her in the garden of St. James's; she would have kneeled, but he raised and embraced her, and led her to the Princess, where they and Lady Augusta dined together. Between nine and ten at night they went to chapel. The Duke of Cumberland gave her away, and after the ceremony they appeared for a few minutes in the drawing-room, and then went to sup- per. She played and sung, for music was her passion, but she loved other amusements too, and had been accus- tomed to them ; but, excepting her music, all the rest were retrenched, nor was she ever suffered to play at cards, which she loved. While she was dressing, she was told the King liked some particular manner of dress. She said, "Let him dress himself; I shall dress as I please." They told her he liked early hours ; she replied, she did not, and '"'' gn' elle 11c vonlait pas se coiicJicr avcc les poziles.^^ A few weeks taught her how little power she had acquired with a Crown. The affection she conceived for the King softened the rigour of her captivity. Yet now and then a sigh stole out, and now and then she attempted, though in vain, to en- large her restraint. . . . It was not without reason that the nation took an alarm, when almost all who conducted our affairs were deter- mined to take none. Spain for some time had interposed officiously in behalf of France, which, said the Spaniards, was sufficiently humbled, and must not be ruined. It was known that they had furnished her with money ; and, as if they sought an open breach with us, they demanded for all Spain the same privilege as Biscay and two other prov- inces enjoyed, of fishing on the coasts of Newfoundland. This was peremp- torily refused ; and had Mr. Pitt's influence been equal to his spirit. Lord Bristol had been immediately recalled from Madrid. . . . The King of Spain was possessed with a notion that his lights were equal to his grandeur. He listened, or thought he listened, to no advice : but if anything is more fatal to a nation than a foolish indolent prince, it is a foolish one that is active and obstinate. . . . Mr. Pitt had fixetl his resolution. It was by one bold stroke to assert the honour of his country, or to quit the rudder. He insisted that a fleet of twelve or fourteen men-of-war should be instantly sent to Cadiz ; and that Lord Bristol should be ordered to demand a sight of the treaty between Spain and France; and if not accorded. 264 The Accession of George III. to leave Madrid without delay. When Spain had given such indications of her partiality to France, nothing could be more justifiable than this measure. But Spain had not restrained herself within the bounds of favour. In the midst of the negotiation between us and France, to which Spain pretended to offer herself as guarantee, she had committed a most flagrant and unheard- of instance of taking part, nay, of add- ing herself as a party to the grievances complained of. Bussy [The French envoy], tolerated here as a negotiator, and without even a character from his own court, presented to Mr. Pitt a cavalier note in the name of Spain, demanding restitution of some prizes we had made on Spain during the war, satisfaction for the violation of their territory by the navy of England, liberty of fishery on Newfoundland, and destruction of our settlements on the Spanish territory, in the bay of Honduras. A power in amity with us, and affecting to act as mediator, selects our enemy's agent to convey their com- plaints I — what could surpass this in- sult? — the patience of our ministers under such indignity — not of Mr. Pitt. He replied with the majesty of the Crown he served, — the vengeance of that Crown slept in other hands. His hands tied, tlie nation affronted, and duped by the partial breaking off of the treaty with France, no proper resentment permitted against Spain, Mr. Pitt found he could do no farther good. His character had been lost by acquiescnce ; and nothing could rouse the nation, but his quitting the sphere of business, where he was so treacher- ously controlled. He had desireil to enter his protest in the council books against the temporising advice of his colleagues. He and Lord Temple de- livered to the King their reasons and advice for a war with Spain ; and October 3nd Mr. Pitt took leave of the Council, thanking the ministers of the late King for the support they had given to the war ; and on the 5th he resigned the Seals. Lord Temple quitted on the 9th following. It is difficult to say which exulted most on this occasion, France, Spain, or Lord Bute, for Mr. Pitt was the common enemy of all three. . . . The nation was thunderstruck, alarmed, and indignant. The City of London proposed to address the King to know why Mr. Pitt was dismissed; but it being replied, that the King w^ould tell them he had not dismissed Mr. Pitt, but had wished him to continue in employment, the motion dropped. Some proposed a general mourning; others, more reasonable, to thank Mr. Pitt for his services ; but this too was damped; for the Favourite's agents were not idle, and insinuated that Mr. Pitt had acted with mischievous views ; for they who were incapable of great views, were excellent in undermining. The King was advised to heap rewards on his late minister. The Princess pressed it eagerly. A peerage, a vast pension, the government of Canada (as a mark that it was not to be restored at the peace), were offered to him. He had the frailty to accept a peerage for his wife, and a pension of three thousand a year for three lives ! . . . The public, though staggered by the pension, did not abandon their idol. ... On the 9th, the King and all the royal family dined in the city with the Lord Mayor. Thither, too, went Mr. Pitt and Lord Temple in a chariot together, — a step justly censured, and very nearly productive of fatal conse- quences. To them all acclamations were addressed ; and the distinctions paid in the Guildhall to Mr. Pitt, to the total neglect of the King, bestowed all the honoiu- of triumph on the former. /' Jaaaar th* other eri CarSemtae.it <]<' tf^AVarJ might reckoa our ertruCTrdinarySucCcii. ° -, BiuTONjrl'VI. ' <>/j^/ilLA/^^2i/^'y laird tf^.' ^^/// ///^ i/ie- ^ o/9i/ Q-^ion.. a ^^9^/yv //^^ ^.weJ^y^i^/^^^/^^ ^LairJ- Ha^^^^^G^rJ.^'^ /y^^i^a^^^^^^V ^^^<^/lfS^ ^^ a^'^^ dsd^ i^itAju ^, / A //|p- />/y ^;- ^r'/^ may a/i/if.) ^ « %>r.^ a^m.^r^?^ <3'/'X^?Jv/ /r/^ Enl Coniequences. T^e^ ^ maJi/ tA^/n duArmt ^aur on^n^-^/ernid o/»i^ tda/ioT^. — CtfreitAe^.^tnh:: t^/-;^ Sror'^'l^^it/or i^i^^d li^Poo /otu^/j§h, i^^fi/^^aillr.^ ^te W-^'Aofv^^^ da;U^ ac Q, m\/alina do ^//E-nl Coufequences ufwn ud ? If (^ i/^yvr tA^,)H'r /uinf u/i-im, A Jfd ^/uiruyt 0^, a^iJ ra^na f/b^ Tiritni n. u/.wri S^>^ /^S^k ^S» ^^ ^*^ Hi^n^ iid ': ///' //uuJl iMVe In^z-A^d ^ ^ Lni rd .^^j\ % wud ^A^fw fi^e./or'DjfiLin^ ^^^^ •"^^ *4//yi//iiiAir J^ <^0 ^-* ^^t^^'''^^^^^ do &iifA{^ruAi<£. ojiJ /^'i^^ l^ nri/l ^t L redSui^eL ^ '9^^'^'^%^^^ ^ '^*' ^-*^^^«^'^^!'w^«^<«4j3j^ ^Tejoice over the good Confe- queno^i of OUT Looses, ouui (/:->' evil onei r,ufulf-''7^f^ ^ <7^^/' '^ieni.^ff ^ /i4f French ./rom t/i'' lyttprr/ ^ (:-}fif (1^ Xewlbundlaud. ' ,yl//^r^^K:;f.>nj/la:iTA.tA^\^iY^\x\.\i&ofGM^^lead^ f^ ^, ^y"^ Laird <^' ffc// Jou^i /ui^ oJiJiiA :^ tJu' y/ur./or -f^/ ou^ltOisesT^re Ji>d^,f>f C^ron ///lo/t '^^ our CoiiqUL-ftj fi^rr uuyu ■^^^/•lA, //v J ff^^.r/A oj^ odd^zifu/^y a Jf-^ . li fi M/d/i f/w f^fu/ ^ , V///A* r^ ^r/«- 2 fJ/HdO/vu,* ■)iy^i/ /A^/'Jlif§Lr/ Jiourbon ^ ^ f/f/jiA/t/ ^^/tfr^tJi/'O. Su/AifW, ThcFcoplc of England. The Accession of George III 265 Little was wantino; to turn the pageant into a tragedy. Riots ensued, and many persons were insulted. 8. An Ilieroglyphical, Enigmatical, and Paradoxical address, to the Laird of the Bute relative to the Loss ot New- foundland. (See opposite page !) Among the other evil Consequences of the "War, I might reckon our extraordinary Suc- cess. — Briton., No. VI. May it please your Lairdship ! At a time when the Nation is again em- broiled in all the Horrors of Faction, and that the Demon of Discord has once more kindled his torch to light up the flames of civil Sedition, it can not but give the greatest Satisfaction to your Lairdship' s Friends in General that the Dawn of your ministerial Conduct has been attended with such happy effects, so likely to put a speedy End to the War. We proceed wholly upon the Maxim adopted by the Author of our Motto ; a Maxim which, (however paradoxical it may appear,) can [not.'' scarcely.'] be enough admired for its novelty, as well as for the forcible conviction it carries along with it : — NeW it surely must be allowed to be ; for who in the name of wonder, would have dream' d, (before your Lairdship' s Friend the Briton informed us so) that success could ever be attended with Evil Consequences, or that our Conquests were to be consid- ered but as Obstacles to a Peace.' These Obstacles however your Laird- ship's Sagacity will effectually remove. We had hitherto foolishly imagin'd, that our numerous Acquisitions, the fruits of our late mischievous Minister's officious Zeal for the public Service, were so many Means of weakening our Enemies, and that the reducing their Power was the surest Way to make them submit to our own Terms of Ac- commodation. — Wretched Mistake! Fatal Error ! Was it for this We so loudly applauded the minister who was daily accumulating so many Evil Con- sequences upon us.' Was it for this We hung upon his Chariot Wheels and bore him through the City with inces- sant Shouts and triumphant Acclama- tions.^ For this did he i-eceive Ad- dresses from all the Cities and Cor- porations of Great Britain, upon everv new Accession of Misfortune he en- tailed upon us.^ How much are we indebted to your Lairdship' s judicious Advocate, for dispelling the mists of Popular Prejudice by which we had been so long blinded, and how greatly will it redound to your glory that you have given us so much Reason to rejoice over the good Consequences of our Losses, and the evil ones resulting to our Enemies the French, from the important Conquest of Newfoundland ! Suffer not then, my Laird, the Ignis Fatuus of Glory to lead you astray, and your Lairdship will soon put an end to the War : for if our Losses are repeated, in Proportion as our Conquests were acquir'd, we can not fail of obtaining a Peace, even upon the equitable Terms which the two illustrious Branches of the House of Bourbon shall think fit to prescribe. Signed^ The People of England. Price 6d. 266 William Pitt and the American War GROUP XXVIII. WILLIAM PITT AND THE AMERICAN WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. I, Extracts from Pitt's Speeches. their parent state has been diametrically (In Life of Pitt. London, iSio.) opposite to the fundamental principles May 27, 1774. of sound policy. . . . By blocking up Mv Lords: ... If we take a tran- the harbour of Boston, you have in- sient view of those motives which volved the innocent trader in the same induced the ancestors of our fellow* punishment with the guilty profligates subjects in America to leave their native who destroyed your merchandize; and country, to encounter the innumerable instead of making a well-concerted difficulties of the imexplored regions of effort to secure the real offenders, you the western world, our astonishment at clap a military and naval extinguisher the present conduct of their descendants over their harbour. . . . will naturally subside. There was no My Lords, this country is little corner of the world into which men of obliged to the framers and promoters their free and enterprising spirit would of this tea-tax. The Americans had not fly with alacrity, rather than submit almost forgot, in their excess of grati- to the slavish and tyrannical principles, tude for the repeal of the stamp act, which prevailed at that period in their any interest but that of the mother native country. And shall we wonder, country ; there seemed an emulation my Lords, if the descendants of such among the different provinces, who illustrious characters spurn, with con- should be most dutiful and forward in tempt, the hand of unconstitutional their expressions of loyalty. . . . But power, that would snatch from them the moment they perceived your inten- such dear-bought privileges as they now tion was renewed to tax them, under a contend for? Had the British Colonies pretence of serving the East India Corn- been planted by any other kingdom pany, their resentment got the ascend- th.an our own, the inhabitants would ant of their moderation, and hurried have carried with them the chains of them into actions contrary to law, slavery, and spirit of despotism ; but as which, in their cooler hours, they would they are, they ought to be remembered have thought on with horror ; for I as great instances to instruct the world, sincerely believe, the destroying of the what great exertions mankind will nat- tea was the effect of despair, urally make, when they are left to the But my Lords, from the complexion free exercise of their own powers. And, of the whole of the proceedings, I think my Lords, notwithstanding my inten- that administration has purposely irri- tion to give my hearty negative to the tated them into those violent acts, for (jucstion now before you [a bill for which they now so severely smart ; <|uartcring sokliers in America], I can- purposely to be revenged on them for not help condemming, in the severest the victory they gained by the repeal of manner, the late turbulent and unwar- the stamp act. . . . For what other rantable conduct of the Americans in motive could induce them to dress tax- some instances, particularly in the late ation, that father of American sedition, riots of Boston. But, my Lords, the in the robes of an East India Director, mode which has been pursued to bring but to break in upon that mutual peace th.em back to a sc-nse of thtir duty to and harmouv. . . . William Pitt and the American War 267 My Lords, I am an old man, and would advise the noble Lords in office to adopt a more gentle mode of govern- ing America ; for the day is not far distant, when America may vie with these kingdoms, not only in arms, but in arts also. It is an established fact, that the principal towns in America are learned and polite, and understand the constitution of the empire as well as the noble Lords who are now in office ; and consequently they will have a watchful eye over their liberties, to prevent the least encroachment on their^ hereditary rights. . . . This, my Lords, though no new doctrine, has always been my received and unalterable opinion, and I will carry it to my grave, that this country had no right under heaven to tax America. It is contrary to all the prin- ciples of justice and civil policy. . . . Such proceedings will never meet their wished-for success ; and, instead of adding to their miseries, as the bill now before you most undoubtedly does, adopt some lenient measures, which may lure them to their duty ; proceed like a kind and affectionate parent over a child whom he tenderly loves ; and, instead of those harsh and severe pro- ceedings pass an amnesty on all their youthful errors ; clasp them once more in your fond and affectionate arms ; and I will venture to affirm you will find them children worthy of their sire. . . . Nov. 29, 1774. I wish, my Lords, not to lose a day in this urgent, pressing crisis ; an hour now lost in allaying ferments in Amer- ica, may produce years of calamity: for my own part, I will not desert, for a moment, the conduct of this weighty business, from the first to the last ; un- less nailed to my bed by the extremity of sickness, I will give it unremitted attention ; I will knock at the door of this sleeping and confounded Ministry, and will rouse them to a sense of their important danger. . . . I contend not for indulgence, but justice to America ; and I shall ever contend, that the Americans justly owe obedience to us in a limited degree, . . . but let the line be skillfully drawn. . . . Let the sacredness of their property re- main inviolate ; let it be taxable only by their own consent, given in their provincial assemblies, else // will cease to be property . . . . Adopt, then, the grace, while you have the opportunity of reconcilement ; or at least prepare the way. — Allay the ferment prevailing in America, by re- moving the obnoxious hostile cause [the troops] — obnoxious and unserviceable ; for their merit can be only inaction : " Non dimicare et vincere," their vic- tory can never be by exertions. Their force would be most disproportionately exerted against a brave, generous, and united people, with arms in their hands, and courage in their hearts : — three millions of people, the genuine descend- ants of a valiant and pious ancestiy, driven to those deserts [ ? J by the narrow maxims of a superstitious tyranny. — And is the spirit of persecution never to be appeased ? Are the brave sons of those brave forefathers to inherit their sufferings, as they have inherited their virtues? Are they to sustain the affliction of the most oppressive and un- exampled severity,, beyond the accounts of history, or description of poetry? ... I remember some years ago, when the i-epeal of the stamp act was in agi- tation, conversing in a friendly confi- dence with a person of undoubted re- spect and authenticity [Fx-anklin] . . . and he assured me : . . . That you might destroy their towns, and cut them off from the superfluities, perhaps the conveniences of life ; but that they were prepared to despise your power, and would not lament their loss, whilst 268 William Pitt and the x^merican War they have — what, my Lords? — their zuoods and their liberty. . . . The spirit which now resists your taxation in America, is the same which formerly opposed loans, benevolences, and ship- money, in Enghmd : the same spirit which called all Enghmd o// its legs., and by the Bill of Rights vindicated the English constitution : the same spirit which established the great fun- damental, essential maxim of your lib- erties, tJiat no subject of Ejigland shall be taxed but by liis own consent. This glorious spirit of Whiggism ani- mates three millions in America ; who prefer poverty with liberty, to gilded chains and sordid affluence ; and who will die in defence of their rights as men, as freemen. . . . As an Ameri- can I would recognize to England her supreme right of regulating commerce and navigation : as an Englishman by birth and principle, I would recognize to the Americans their supreme unalien- able right in their property ; a riglit which they are justified in the defence of to the last extremity. To maintain this principle is the common cause of the Whigs on the other side of the Atlantic, and on this. " ' Tis libertv to liberty engaged," that they will de- fend themselves, their families, and their country. In this great cause they are immoveably allied : it is the alliance of God and nature — immutable, eternal — fixed as the firmament of heaven. . . . When your Lordships look at the papers transmitteil us from America ; when you consider their dcccncv, firm- ness, and wisdom, you cannot but respect their cause, and wish to make it your own. For myself, I must declare and avow, that in all mv read- ing and observation — and it has been my favourite study — I have read Thu- cidydes, and have studied and admired the master-states of the world — that for solidity f)f reasoning, force of sagacity. and wisdom of conclusion, under such a complication of difficult circum- stances, no nation, or body of men, can stand in preference to the general Congress at Philadelphia. I trust it is obvious to your Lordships, that all attempts to impose servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty continental nation., must be vain, must be fatal. We shall be forced ultimately to retract; let us retract while we can, not when we must. I say we must necessarily undo these violent oppressive acts : tJiey must be repealed — yo7i xvill repeal them; I pledge myself for it., that you zcill in the end repeal them ; I stake my reputation on it: — I ivill consent to be taken for an idiot., if they arc not fnally repealed. . . . May 13, 1777. ... If an end is not put to this war, there is an end to this country. I do not trust my judgment in my pres- ent state of health ; this is the judg- ment of my better days ; the result of forty years attention to America. They are rebels : but what are they rebels for? Surely not for defending their unquestionable rights ! . . . America has carried you through former wars, and will now carry you to your death, if you don't take things in time. . . . You have been three yeais teaching them the art of war. They are apt scholars, and I will venture to tell your Lordships, that the American gentry will make officers enough fit to com- mand the troops of all the European powers. . . . You have said, lay down your arms, and she has given you the Spartan answer, " Come take." 2. Speech from the throne of George III., Nov. iS, 1777. (In Thackeray's Life of Pitt, Vol. II. p. 332.) It is a great satisfaction to me that I can have recourse to the wisdom and William Pitt and the American War 269 support of my parliament in this con- juncture, when the continuance of the rebellion in North America demands our most serious attention. The pow- ers you have entrusted me with, for the suppression of this revolt, have been faithfully exerted. . , . I am persuaded you will see the necessity of preparin*^ for such further operations as the con- tingencies of the war, and the obsti- nacy of the rebels may render expedient. . . . Antl I still hope, that the deluded and unhappy Inultitude will return to their allegiance ; and that the remem-' brance of what they once enjoyed, the regret for what they have lost, and the feelings of what they now suffer under the arbitrary tyranny of their leaders, will rekindle in their hearts a spirit of lovalty to their Sovereign, and of at- tachment to their mother-country ; and that they will enal^le me, with the con- currence and support of my Parliament, to accomplish what I shall consider as the greatest happiness of my life, and the greatest glory of my reign, the restoration of peace, order, and confi- dence to my American Colonies. 3. Speech of Lord Chatham on the subject of an address in answer to the Speech from the Throne. I rise, my Lords, to declare my senti- ments on this most solemn and serious subject. ... I will not join in con- gratulation on misfortune and disgrace : I cannot concur in a blind and servile address, which approves, and endeavors to sanctify, the monstrous measures that have heaped disgrace and misfor- tune upon us — that have brought ruin to our doors. This, my Lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment ! It is no time for adulation. The smooth- ness of flatterv cannot now avail — can- not save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the Throne in the language of truth. We must dispel the delusion and dark- ness that envelope it ; and display, in its full danger and true colors, the ruin that is brought to our doors. . . . But yesterday, and England might Jiavc stood against tJie zvorld : nozv none so poor to do her reverence. I use the words of a poet ; but though it be poetry, it is no fiction. It is a shame- ful truth, that not only the power and strength of this country are wasting away and expiring ; but her well- earned glories, her true honor, and suli- stantial dignity, ai'e sacrificed. France, my Lords, has insulted you ; she has encouraged and sustained America ; and whether America be wrong or right, the dignity of this country ought to spurn at the officious insult of French interference. The ministers and am- bassadors of those who are called rebels and enemies are in Paris ; in Paris they transact the reciprocal interests of America and France. Can there be a more mortifying insult.'' Can even our ministers sustain a more humiliating disgrace .^ . . . My Lords, this ruinous and ignomin- ious situation, where we cannot act with success, nor suffer with honor, calls upon us to remonstrate in the strongest and loudest language of truth, to rescue the ear of Majesty from the delusions which surround it. The des- perate state of our arms abroad is in part known : no man thinks more highly of them than I do : I love and honor the English troops : I know their virtues and their valor : I know they can achieve anything except impossi- bilities ; and I know that the conquest of English America is an impossibility. You canno^, I venture to say, you CANNOT conquer America. Your armies last war effected everything that could be effected; and what was it.'' It cost a numerous army, under the command of a most able sfencral 270 William Pitt and the American War (Amherst), now a noble Lord in this house, a long antl laborious campaign, to expel five thousand Frenchmen from French America. Mv Lords, yon ca?i- itot conquer America. What is your present situation there ? We do not know the worst ; but we know, that in three campaigns we have done noth- ing, and suffered nuich. Besides the sufferings, perhaps total loss, of the Northern force (Burgoyne's army), the best appointed army that ever took the field commanded by .Sir William Howe, has retiretl from the American lines ; he ~vas obliged to relinciuish his attempt, and, with great delay and danger, to adopt a new and distant plan of operations. We shall soon know, and in any event have reason to lament, what may have happened since. As to conquest, therefore, my Lords, I repeat, it is impossible. — You may swell every expence, and every effort, still more extravagantly ; pile and accu- mulate every assistance you can buy or borrow ; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German Prince, that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign Prince ; your efforts are forever vain and impotent — doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irritates to an incurable resentniL-iit, the minds of vour enemies — to overrun tiiem with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder; devoting them and their possessions to the rapac- ity of hireling cruelty! -If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in mv tountry, I never would lay down mv arms — never — never — never. . . . But, my Lords, who is the man that. in addition to these disgraces and mis- chiefs of our army, has dared to au- thorize and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage? To call into civilized alliance the wild and iidnnnan sava >ll^i ,^ > 4 \i ^^<^ ^1 7^ it^ I ^ "1^ l< N^ I ♦• s S V -^ ^ Nv 5 ■ The Death of Nelson 287 The J?edoi(d^adle commenced aheavy fire of musketry from the tops, which was continued for a considerable time with destructive effect to the Victory' s crew : her great guns however being silent, it was supposed at different times that she had surrendered ; and in consequence of this opinion, the Vic- iory twice ceased firing upon her by Orders transmitted from the quarter >^i T'le- Prjf .Vu-rsda .Vhpkzn, ieeu-trg u> diZiti The- M'e^^ .ViiysAS fHKlSTENlNG UV H. R. H. THE PRINCE OF WALES, 1S4I A. D. (Con tern por;iry caricatures.) The. fiu^.e^t' Uotvar^ey-, her- Tat^^ 6om^ iJt^Xor-cZ' hnoM's£/b^t^ ^ yfts TtUZ- »ti^^o/-«ert!. hy 'of a Itx^e-s CHRISTEXING OF H. R. H. THE PRINCE OF WALES, 184I A. D. (Contemporary caricatures.) CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY University of California, San Diego DATE DUE ■■buQ3l983 LAY I 2 198J a 39 UCSD Libr. b 000 346 910 3