At the battle of Sedgemoor, in Somersetshire (1685), "King Monmouth," with his hastily gathered forces, was utterly routed. He himself was soon afterwards captured, hiding in a ditch. He desired to be taken to the King. His request was granted. When he entered his uncle's presence, he threw himself down and crawled to his feet, weeping and begging piteously for life—only life—on any terms, however hard.
He denied that he had issued the lying proclamation published at Lyme; he denied that he had sought the crown of his own free will; finally, in an agony of supplication, he hinted that he would even renounce Protestantism if thereby he might escape death. James told him that he should have the service of a Catholic priest, but would promise nothing more. Monmouth groveled and pleaded, but the King's heart was like marble, and he turned away in silence. Then the Duke, seeing that all his efforts were vain, rose to his feet and regained his manhood.
He was forthwith sent to the Tower, and shortly afterwards to execution. His headless body was buried under the communion table of that little chapel of St. Peter within the Tower grounds, where the remains of Anne Boleyn, Lady Jane Grey, Sir Thomas More, and many other royal victimsf, are gathered. No sadder spot exists on earth, "since there death is associated with whatever is darkest in human nature and human destiny."[1]
[1] Macaulay's "England."
After Monmouth's death there were no further attempts at insurrection, and the struggle at Sedgemoor remains the last encounter worthy of the name of battle fought on English soil.
487. The "Bloody Assizes" (1685).
The defeat of the insurgents who had rallied under Monmouth's flag was followed by a series of trials known, from their results, as the "Bloody Assizes" (1685). They were conducted by Judge Jeffreys, assisted by a band of soldiers under Colonel Kirke, ironically called, from their ferocity, "Kirke's Lambs." Jeffreys was by nature cruel, and enjoyed the spectacle of mental as well as bodily anguish. As he himself said, he delighted to give those who had the misfortune to appear before him "a lick with the rough side of his tongue," preparatory to roaring out the sentence of torture or death, in which he delighted still more.
All who were in the remotest way implicated in the late rebellion were now hunted down and brought to a trial which was but a mockery of justice. No one was permitted to defend himself. In fact, defense would have been useless against the blind fury of such a judge. The threshold of the court was to most that crossed it the threshold of the grave. A gentleman present at one of these scenes of slaughter, touched with pity at the condition of a trembling old man called up for sentence, ventured to put in a word in his behalf. "My Lord," said he to Jeffreys, "this poor creature is dependent on the parish." "Don't trouble yourself," cried the judge; "I will soon ease the parish of the burden," and ordered the officers to execute him at once.
Those who escaped death were often still more to be pitied. A young man was sentenced to be imprisoned for seven years, and to be whipped once a year through every market town in the county. In his despair, he petitioned the King to grant him the favor of being hanged. The petition was refused, but a partial remission of the punishment was at length gained by bribing the court; for Jeffreys, though his heart was shut against mercy, always had his pockets open for gain. Alice Lisle, an aged woman, who, out of pity, had concealed two men flying from the King's vengeance, was condemned to be burned alive; and it was with the gratest difficulty that the clergy of Winchester Cathedral succeeded in getting the sentence commuted to beheading.
As the work went on, the spirits of Jeffreys rose higher and higher. He laughed, shouted, joked, and swore like a drunken man. When the court had finished its sittings, more than a thousand persons had been brutally scourged, sold as slaves, hanged, or beheaded. The guideposts of the highways were converted into gibbets, from which the blackened corpses swung in chains, and from every church tower in Somersetshire ghastly heads looked down on those who gathered there to worship God; in fact, so many bodies were exposed that the whole air was "tainted with corruption and death."
Not satisfied with vengeance alone, Jeffreys and his friends made these trials a means of speculation. Batches of rebels were given as presents to courtiers, who sold them for a period of ten years to be worked to death or flogged to death on West India plantations; and the Queen's maids of honor extorted large sums of money for the pardon of a number of country schoolgirls who had been convicted of presenting Monmouth with a royal flag at Taunton.
On the return of Jeffreys to London after this carnival of blood, his father was so horrified at his cruelty that he forbade him to enter his house. James, on the contrary, testified his approval by making Jeffreys Lord Chancellor of the realm, at the same time mildly censuring him for not having shown greater severity!
The new Lord Chancellor testified his gratitude to his royal master by procuring the murder, by means of a packed jury, of Alderman Cornish, a prominent London Whig (S479), who was especially hated by the King on account of his support of that Exclusion Bill (S478) which was intended to shut James out from the throne. On the same day on which Cornish was executed, Jeffreys also had the satisfaction of knowing that Elizabeth Gaunt was burned alive at Tyburn, London, for having assisted one of the Rye-House conspirators, who had fought for Monmouth at Sedgemoor, to escape.
488. The King makes Further Attempts to reestablish Catholicism; Second Declaration of Indulgence (1687); Oxford.
An event occurred about this time which encouraged James to make a more decided attempt to restore Catholicism. Henry IV of France had granted the Protestants of his kingdom liberty of worship, by the Edict of Nantes (1598). Louis XIV deliberately revoked it (1685). By that shortsighted act the Huguenots, or French Protestants, were exposed to cruel persecution, and thousands of them fled to England and America.
James, who, like his late brother Charles II, was "the pensioned slave of the French King" (S476), resolved to profit by the example set him by Louis. He did not expect to drive the Protestants out of Great Britain as Louis had driven them from France, but he hoped to restore the country to its allegiance to Rome (SS370, 382, 477). He began by suspending the Test Act (S477) and putting Catholics into important offices in both Church and State.[1] He furthermore established an army of 13,000 men on Hounslow Heath, just outside London (1686), to hold the city in subjection in case it should rebel.
[1] The Dispensing Power and the Suspending Power were prerogatives by which the King claimed the right of preventing the enforcement of such laws as he deemed contrary to public good. A packed bench of judges sustained the King in this position, but the power so to act was finally abolished by the Bill of Rights (1689). See S497 and top of page xxxii, Article XII.
He next recalled the Protestant Duke of Ormonde, governor of Ireland, and put in his place Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnel, a Catholic. Tyrconnel had orders to recruit an Irish Roman Catholic army to aid the King in carrying out his designs (1687). He raised some soldiers, but he also raised that famous song of "Lilli Burlero," by which, as its author boasted, James was eventually "sung out of his kingdom."[2]
[2] Lord Wharton, a prominent English Whig (S479), was the author of this satirical political ballad, which, it is said, was sung and whistled from one end of England to the other, in derision of the King's policy. It undoubtably had a powerful popular influence in bringing on the Revolution of 1688. The ballad began: "Ho, Brother Teague, dost hear de decree? Lilli Burlero, bullen a-la, Dat we shall have a new deputie, Lilli Burlero, bullen a-la." The refrain, "Lilli Burlero," etc. (also written "Lillibullero"), is said to have been the watchword used by the Irish Catholics when they rose against the Protestants of Ulster in 1641. See Wilkins's "Political Songs," Vol I.
Having got the courts completely under his control through the appointment of judges in sympathy with Jeffreys (S487) and with himself, the King issued a Declaration of Indulgence similar to that which his brother Charles II had issued (S477).[1] It suspended all penal laws against both the Roman Catholics on the one hand, and the Protestant Dissenters (S472) on the other. The latter, however, suspecting that this apparently liberal measure was simply a trick to establish Catholicism, refused to avail themselves of it, and denounced it as an open violation of the Constitution.
[1] See Summary of Constitutional History in the Appendix, p. xxi, S23.
James next proceeded, by means of the tyrannical High Commission Court, which he had revived (S382), to bring Magdalen College, Oxford, under Catholic control. The President of that college having died, the Fellows were considering the choice of a successor. The King ordered them to elect a Catholic. The Fellows refused to obey, and elected a Protestant. James ejected the new President, and drove out the Fellows, leaving them to depend on the charity of neighboring country gentlemen for their support.
But the King, in attacking the rights of the college, had "run his head against a wall,"[2] as he soon discovered to his sorrow. His temporary success, however, emboldened him to reissue the first Declaration of Indulgence (1688). Its real object, like that of the first Declaration (S477), was to put Roman Catholics into still higher positions of trust and power.
[2] "What building is that?" asked the Duke of Wellington of his companion, Mr. Croker, pointing, as he spoke, to Magdalen College wall, just as they entered Oxford in 1834. "That is the wall which James II ran his head against," was the reply.
489. The Petition of the Seven Bishops, 1688.
James commanded the clergy throughout the realm to read this Declaration (S488) on a given Sunday from their pulpits. The clergy were by nature conservative. They still generally upheld the theory of the "Divine Right of Kings" and of "Passive Obedience." A majority of them taught the doctrine which James I had proclaimed: "God makes the King; the King makes the law; his subjects are bound to obey the law" (SS419, 429). Now, however, nearly all of them revolted. They felt that to comply with the mandate of the King would be to strike a blow at the supremacy of the Church of England. In this crisis the Archbishop of Canterbury, accompanied by six bishops, petitioned the King to be excused from reading it from their pulpits. The King refused to consider the petition. When the day came, hardly a clergyman read the paper, and in Westminster Abbey the entire congregation rose in a body and left rather than listen to it. Furious at such an unexpected result, James ordered the refractory bishops to be sent to the Tower and kept prisoners there.
The whole country now seemed to turn against the King. By his obstinate folly James had succeeded in making enemies of all classes, not only of the Whig Roundheads (S479) who had fought against his father in the civil war, but also of the Tory Cavaliers (S479) who had fought for him, and of the clergy who had taught the duty of obedience to him.
One of the bishops sent to the Tower was Trelawney of Bristol. He was a native of Cornwall. The news of his imprisonment roused the rough, independent population of that country. From one end of it to the other the people were now heard singing:
"And shall Trelawney die, and shall Trelawney die?There's thirty thousand Cornishmen will know the reason why."
Then the miners took up the words, and beneath the hills and fields the ominous echo was heard:
"And shall Trelawney die, and shall Trelawney die?There's twenty thousand underground will know the reason why."
When the seven bishops were brought to trial the popular feeling in their favor was so strong that not even James's servile judges dared use their influence to convict them. After the case was given to the jury, the largest and most robust man of the twelve rose and said to the rest: "Look at me! I am bigger than any of you, but before I will bring in a verdict of guilty, I will stay here until I am no thicker than a tobacco pipe." That decided the matter, and the bishops were acquitted (1688). The news was received in London like the tidings of some great victory, with shouts of joy, illuminations, and bonfires.
490. Birth of a Prince; Invitation to William of Orange (1688).
But just before the acquittal an event took place which changed everything and brought on the "Glorious Revolution" of 1688,—for such was the title which was solemnly given to it after William and Mary had come to the throne (SS491, 494).
Up to this time the succession to the throne after James rested with his two daughters,—Mary, who had married William, Prince of Orange (S477), President of the Dutch republic, and resided in Holland; and her younger sister Anne, who had married George, Prince of Denmark, and was then living in London. Both of the daughters were zealous Protestants, and the expectation that one of them would receive the English crown on the King's death had kept the people quiet while James was endeavoring to restore Catholicism.
But while the seven bishops were in prison awaiting trial (S489) the alrming intelligence was spread that a son had been born to the King (1688). If true, he would now be the next heir to the crown, and would in all probability be educated and come to power a Catholic. This prospect brought matters to a crisis.
Many people, especially the Whigs (S479), believed the whole matter an imposition, and it was reported that the young Prince was not the true son of the King and Queen, but a child that had been smuggled into the palace to deceive the nation. For this report there was absolutely no foundation in fact.
On the very day that the bishops were set at liberty (S489) seven of the leading nobility and gentry, representing both the Whigs and the Tories (S479),[1] seconded by the city of London, secretly sent a formal invitation to William, Prince of Orange, "the champion of Protestantism on the Continent and the deadly foe of James's ally, the King of France." Admiral Herbert, disguised as a common sailor, set out on the perilous errand to the Prince. The invitation he carried implored William to come over with an army to defend his wife Mary's claim to the English throne, and to ensure "the restoration of English liberties and the protection of the Protestant religion."
William decided to accept the invitation, which was probably not unexpected on his part. He was confirmed in his decision not only by the cordial approval of the leading Catholic princes of Europe, except, of course, Louis XIV of France, but also by the Pope himself, who had more than once expressed his emphatic disgust at the foolish rashness of King James.[2]
[1] The seven gentlemen who signed in cipher the secret letter toWilliam, Prince of Orange, were Henry Sidney, brother of AlgernonSidney (S480); Edward Russell, a kinsman of Lord Russell, beheaded byCharles II (S480); the Earl of Devonshire, chief of the Whig party;Lord Shrewsbury; Danby, the old Tory minister of Charles II; Compton,Bishop of London, whom James II had tyrannically suspended; and LordLumley. See the letter in J. Dalrymple's "Memoirs of Great Britain,"II, Appendix, p. 228.[2] Bright's, Guizot's, Lingard's, and Von Ranke's Histories ofEngland.
491. The "Glorious Revolution of 1688; William comes, James goes.
William's ship, which led his fleet, displayed this flag.
He landed with 14,000 troops on the shore of Torbay, Devonshire. (See map facing p. 334.) It was the fifth and last rgeat landing in the history of England.[1] He declared that he came in the interest of his wife Mary, the heir to the throne (S477), and in the interest of the English nation, to secure a free and legal Parliament which should decide the question of the succession. James endeavored to rally a force to resist him, but Baron Churchill, afterwards Duke of Marlborough (S509), and the King's son-in-law, Prince George, both secretly went over to William's side.
[1] The first being that of the Romans, the next that of the Saxons, the third that of St. Augustine, the fourth that of William he Conqueror, the fifth that of the Prince of Orange.
His troops likewise deserted, and finally even his daughter Anne went over to the enemy. "Now God help me!" exclaimed James, in despair; "for my own children forsake me!" The Queen had already fled to France, taking with her her infant son, the unfortunate Prince James Edward, whose birth (S490) had caused the revolution. Instead of a kingdom, he inherited nothing but the nickname of "Pretender," which he in turn transmitted to his son.[2] King James soon followed his wife.
[2] Prince James Edward Stuart, the so-called "Old Pretender," and his son, Prince Charles Edward Stuart, the so-called "Young Pretender." See, too, Genealogical Table, p. 323.
As he crossed the Thames in a boat by night, James threw the Great Seal of State into the river, in the vain hope that without it a Parliament could not be legally summoned to decide the question which his adversary had raised.[3] The King got as far as the coast, but was discovered by some fishermen and brought back. William reluctantly received him, and purposely allowed him to escape a second time. He reached France, and Louis XIV, who had long had the treacherous King in his secret pay, received him at the court of Versailles. There could be now no reasonable doubt that James's daughter Mary (S477) would receive the English crown.
[3] On the Great Seal of State (S145).
492. Character of the Revolution of 1688.
Never was a revolution of such magnitude and meaning accomplished more peacefully. Not a drop of blood had been shed. There was hardly any excitement or uproar. Even the bronze statue of the runaway King was permitted to stand undisturbed in the rear of the palace of Whitehall, London, where it remains to this day.
The great change had taken place thus quietly because men's minds were ripe for it. England had entered upon another period of history, in which old institutions, laws, and customs were passing away and all was becoming new.
Feudalism had vanished under Charles II (S482), but political and religious persecution had continued. In future, however, we shall hear no more of the revocation of city charters or other punishments inflicted because of political opinion (SS479, 487), and rarely of any punishment for religious dissent.
Courts of justice will undergo reform. They will cease to be "little better than caverns of murderers,"[1] where judges like Scroggs and Jeffreys (SS478, 487) browbeat the prisoners, took their guilt for granted, insulted and silenced witnesses for their defense, and even cast juries into prison under penalties of heavy fines, for venturing to bring in verdicts contrary to their wishes.[2]
[1] Hallam's "Constitutional History of England," p. 138. Hallam also says that the behavior of the Stuart judges covered them "with infamy," p. 597. [2] See Hallam, and also the introduction to Professor Adams's "Manual of Historical Literature." For a graphic picture of the times, see, in Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," Christian's trial before Lord Hategood.
The day, too, had gone by when an English sovereign could cast his subjects into fetid dungeons in the Tower and leave them to die there of lingering disease, in darkness, solitude, and despair. No future king like the marble-hearted James II would sit in the court room at Edinburgh, and watch with curious delight the agony inflicted by the Scotch instruments of torture, the "boot" and the thumbscrew, or like his grandfather, James I, burn Unitarian heretics at the stake in Smithfield market place in London (S518).
For the future, thought and discussion in England were to be in great measure free, as in time they would be wholly so. Perhaps the coward King's heaviest retribution in his secure retreat in the royal French palace of Versailles was the knowledge that all his efforts, and all the efforts of his friend Louis XIV, to prevent the coming of this liberty had absolutely failed.
493. Summary.
The reign of James must be regarded as mainly taken up with the attempt of the King to rule independently of Parliament and of law, and, apparently, he sought to restore the Roman Catholic faith as the Established Church of England.
Monmouth's rebellion, though without real justification, since he could not legitimately claim the crown, was a forerunner of that memorable Revolution which invited William of Orange to come to the support of Parliament, and which placed a Protestant King and Queen on the throne.
WILLIAM AND MARY (House of Orange-Stuart)—1689-1702
494. The "Convention Parliament"; the Declaration of Right. 1689.
After the flight of James II, a "Convention Parliament" met, and declared that, James having broken "the orginal contract between king and people," the throne was therefore vacant. The Convention next issued a formal statement of principles under the name of the "Declaration of Right," 1689.[1]
[1] It was called a "Convention Parliament" because it had not been summoned by the King (S491). Declaration of Right: see Summary of Constitutional History in the Appendix, p. xxii, S24. On the coronation oath see S380, note 1.
That document recited the illegal and arbitrary acts of the late King James II, proclaimed him no longer sovereign, and resolved that the crown should be tendered to William and Mary.[2] The Declaration having been read to them and having received their assent, they were formally invited to accept the joint sovereignty of the realm, with the understanding that the actual administration should be vested in William alone.
[2] William of Orange stood next in order of succession to Mary and Anne (provided the claim of the newly born Prince James, the so-called "Pretender," was set aside [SS490, 491]). See Genealogical Table, p. 323.
495. Jacobites and Nonjurors (1689).
At the accession of the new sovereigns the extreme Tories (S479), who believed the action fo the Convention unconstitutional, continued to adhere to James II as their lawful King. Henceforth this class became known as "Jacobites," from Jacobus, the Latin name for James. They were especially numerous and determined in the Highlands of Scotland and the south of Ireland. They kept up a secret correspondence with the refugee monarch, and were constantly plotting for his restoration.
About four hundred of the clergy of the Church of England, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and four more of the famous seven bishops (S489), with some members of the universities and also some Scotch Presbyterians, refused to take the oath of allegiance to William and Mary. They became known on this account as the "Nonjurors," and although they were never harshly treated, they were compelled to resign their positions.
496. The Mutiny Act and the Toleration Act, 1689.
We have seen that one of the chief means of despotism on which James II relied was the organization of a powerful standing army (S488), such as was unknown in England until Cromwell was compelled to rule by military force (S457). Charles II had perpetuated such an army (S467), but it was so small that it was no longer formidable.
It was now evident that owing to the abolition of the feudal levies (SS150, 482) a standing army under the King's command must be maintained, especially as war was impending with Louis XIV, who threatened by force of arms and with the help of the Jacobites (S495) to restore James II to the English throne. To prevent the sovereign from making bad use of such a power, Parliament passed a law called the "Mutiny Act," 1689, which practically put the army under the control of the nation,[1] as it has since remained. Thus all danger from that source was taken away.
[1] The Mutiny Act provides: (1) that the standing army shall be at the King's command—subject to certain rules—for one year only; (2) that no pay shall be issued to troops except by special acts of Parliament; (3) that no act of mutiny can be punished except by the annual reenactment of the Mutiny Bill.
James's next method for bringing the country under the control of Rome had been to issue Declarations of Indulgence (S488). It was generally believed that his object in granting these measures of toleration, which promised freedom to all religious beliefs, was that he might place Roman Catholics in power.
As an offset to these Declarations, Parliament now passed the Toleration Act, 1689, which secured freedom of worship to all religious believers except "Papists and such as deny the Trinity." This measure, though one-sided and utterly inconsistent with the broader and juster ideas of toleration which have since prevailed, was nevertheless a most important reform. It put an end at once and forever to the persecution which had disgraced the reigns of the Stuarts, though unfortunately it still left the Catholics, the Unitarians, and the Jews subject to the heavy hand of tyrannical oppression,[1] and they remained so for many years (SS573, 599).
[1] In 1663 Charles granted a charter to Rhode Island which secured religious liberty to that colony. It was the first royal charter recognizing the principle of toleration.
497. The Bill of Rights, 1689, and Act of Settlement, 1701.
Not many months later, Parliament embodied the Declaration of Right (S494), with some slight changes, in the Bill of Rights, 1689,[2] which received the signature of the King and became law. It constitutes the third and last great step which England has taken in making anything like a formal WRITTEN Constitution,[3]—the first being Magna Carta, or the Great Charter (S199), and the second the Petition of Right (S432). The Habeas Corpus Act (S482) was contained, in germ at least, in Magna Carta (S199 (2)); hence these three measures, namely, Magna Carta, 1215; the Petition of Right, 1628; and the Bill of Rights, 1689 (including the Act of Settlement to be mentioned presently), sum up the written safeguards of the nation, and constitute, as Lord Chatham said, "The Bible of English Liberty."
[2] See Summary of Constitutional History in the Appendix, p. xxii, S25, and p. xxxi. [3] It should be borne in mind that a large part of the English Constitution is based on ancient customs or unwritten laws, and another part on acts of Parliament passed for specific purposes.
With the passage of the Bill of Rights,[4] the doctrine of the DivineRight of Kings to govern without being accountable to their subjects(SS419, 429), which James I and his descendants had tried so hard toreduce to practice, came to an end forever.
[4] For summary of the bill, see Constitutional Documents in theAppendix, p. xxxi. For the complete text, see Taswell-Langmead's"Constitutional History of England" or Lee's "Source Book of EnglishHistory."
The chief provisions of the Bill of Rights were: (1) That the King should not maintain a standing army in time of peace, except by consent of Parliament. (2) That no money should be taken from the people save by the consent of Parliament. (3) That every subject has the right to petition the Crown for the redress of any grievance. (4) That the election of members of Parliament ought to be free from interference. (5) That Parliament should frequently assemble and enjoy entire freedom of debate. (6) That the King be debarred from interfering in any way with the proper execution of the laws. (7) That a Roman Catholic or a person marrying a Roman Catholic be henceforth incapable of receiving the crown of England.
Late in the reign (1701) Parliament reaffirmed and still further extended the provisions of the Bill of Rightss by the Act of Settlement, which established a new royal line of sovereigns confined exclusively to Protestants.[1] This Act with the preceding one may be said to have introduced that principle of the British Constitution which has been called "The Reign of Law." It practically abolished the principle of a fixed hereditary succession and reestablished in the clearest and most decided manner the right of the nation to choose its own rulers.
[1] Compare S349, note 2. The Act of Settlement (see p. xxxii of Appendix) provided that after Princess Anne (in default of issue by William or Anne) the crown should descend to the Electress Sophia of Hanover, Hermany, and her PROTESTANT DESCENDANTS. The Electress Sophia was the granddaughter of James I. She married Ernest Augustus, Elector (or ruler) of Hanover. As Hallam says, she was "very far removed from any hereditary title," as, aside from James II's son (S490), whose legitimacy no one now doubted, there were several who stood nearer in right of succession.
According to that measure, "an English sovereign is now as much the creature of an act of Parliament as the pettiest taxgatherer in his realm";[2] and he is dependent for his office and power on the will of the people as really, though of course not as directly as the President of the United States.
[2] Green's "Short History of the English People" and Bryce's "American Commonwealth."
Finally, the Bill of Rights and the Act of Settlement, by restricting the royal succession to Protestants, made it henceforth unconstitutional for the Crown to permit or invite the Papal Power to take any recognized part in the government of England. The enactment of these two measures, therefore, effectually put an end to that great conflict between England and Rome which had been going on, in some form, for more than six hundred years (S349, note 2).
To-day entire harmony exists. Catholics and Protestants "work together for good" in Parliament, in the Cabinet, in the Courts of Justice, in the Universities, in the Army and Navy, in the service of the Press, and in private life.[1]
[1] The names of many eminent Catholics might be cited, such as Professor Lingard, the historian (1851), the late Lord Chief Justice Russell, the late Lord Acton, Professor of History at Cambridge, and the late Sir Francis Burnand, editor ofPunch.
498. Further Benefits of the Revolution.
Foremost in the list of other benefits which England gained by the Revolution of 1688 should be placed: 1. The Toleration Act already mentioned (S496), which gave a very large number of people the right of worshiping God according to the dictates of conscience, and which was the stepping-stone to later measures that completed the good work of extending religious liberty in England (SS573, 599). 2. Parliament now established the salutory rule that no money should be voted to the King except for specific purposes, and it also limited the royal revenue to a few years' supply instead of granting it for life, as had been done in the case of Charles II and James. Later the supply was limited to an annual grant. As the Mutiny Act (S496) made the army dependent for its existence on the annual meeting and action of the House of Commons, these two measures practically gave the people full control of the two great powers,—the purse and the sword,—which they have ever since retained. 3. Parliament next enacted that judges should hold office not as heretofore, at his Majesty's pleasure, but during good behavior (or until the death of the reigning sovereign vacated their commissions). This took away that dangerous authority of the King over the courts of justice, which had caused so much oppression and cruelty. 4. But, as Macaulay remarks, of all the reforms produced by the change of government, perhaps none proved more extensively useful than the establishment of the liberty of the press. Up to this time no book or newspaper could be published in England without a license.[2] In the period of the Commonwealth John Milton, the great Puritan poet, had earnestly labored to get this severe law repealed, declaring that "while he who kills a man kills a reasonable creature,…he who destroys a good book [by refusing to let it appear in print] kills reason itself."[3] But under James II, Chief Justice Scroggs had declared it a crime to publish anything whatever concerning the government, whether true or false, without a license. During that reign there were only four places in England—namely, London, Oxford, Cambridge, and York—where any book, pamphlet, or newspaper could be legally issued, and then only with the sanction of a rigid inspector.
[2] See Summary of Constitutional History in the Appendix, p. xxiii, S26. [3] Milton's "Areopagitica," or "Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing."
Under William and Mary this restriction was removed. Henceforth men were free not only to think, but to print and circulate their thought (subject, of course, to the law of libel and sedition). They could thus bring the government more directly before that bar of public opinion which judges all men and all institutions.
499. James II lands in Ireland (1689); Act of Attainder; Siege of Londonderry.
But though William was King of England, and had been accepted as King of Scotland, yet the Irish, like the Scotch Highlanders, refused to recognize him as their lawful sovereign. The great body of Irish population was then, as now, Roman Catholic. But they had been gradually dispossessed of their hold on the land (SS159, 402, 453), and the larger part of the most desirable portion of the island was owned by a few hundred thousand Protestant colonists.
On the other hand, James II had, during his reign, put the civil government and the military power in the hands of the Catholics. The Earl of Tyrconnel (S488) now raised the standard of rebellion in Ireland in the interest of the Catholics, and invited James II to come over from France (S491) and regain his throne. The Protestants of the north stood by William of Orange (S491), and thus got that name of Orangemen which they have ever since retained. James landed in Ireland in the spring (1689) with a small French force lent him by Louis XIV (S491).
He established his headquarters at Dublin. Not long afterwards he issued that great Act of Attainder (1689) which summoned all who were in rebellion against his authority to appear for trial on a given day, or be declared traitors, hanged, drawn, and quartered, and their property confiscated.[1] Next, the Protestant city of Londonderry (S423) was bebesieged (1689). For more than three months it held out against shot and shell, famine and fever.
[1] Attainder (S351): This act contained between two and three thousand names. It embraced all classes, from half the peerage of Ireland to tradesmen, women, and children. If they failed to appear, they could be put to death without trial.
The starving inhabitants, exceeding thirty thousand in number, were finally reduced to the last extremities. Nothing was left to eat but a few miserable horses and some salted hides. As they looked into each other's hollow eyes, the question came, Must we surrender? Then it was that an aged clergyman, the venerable George Walker, one of the governors of the city, pleaded with them, Bible in hand, to remain firm.
That appeal carried the day. They declared that rather than open the gates to the enemy, they would perish of hunger, or, as some voice whispered, that they would fall "first on the horses and the hides,—THEN ON THE PRISONERS,—then—ON EACH OTHER!" But at this moment, when all hope seemed lost, a shout of triumph was heard. An English force had sailed up the river, broken through all obstructions, and the valiant city was saved.
500. Battle of the Boyne, 1690; Treaty of Limerick.
A year later occurred the decisive battle of the Boyne,[1] 1690, at which King William commanded in person on one side, while James II was present on the opposite side. William had a somewhat larger force and by far the greater number of well-armed, veteran troops. The contest ended with the utter defeat of James. He stood on a hill at a safe distance, and when he saw that the battle was going against him, turned and fled to France. William, on the other hand, though suffering from a wound, led his own men. The cowardly behavior of James excited the disgust and scorn of both the French and Irish. "Change kings with us," shouted an Irish officer later, to one of William's men, "change kings with us, and we'll fight you over again."
[1] Fought in the east of Ireland, on the banks of the river of that name. (See map facing p. 358.)
The war was brought to an end by the treaty of Limerick (1691), when about ten thousand Irish soldiers who had fought for James, and who no longer cared to remain in their own country after their defeat, were permitted to go to France. "When the wild cry of the women, who stood watching their departure, was hushed, the silence of death settled down upon Ireland. For a hundred years the country remained at peace, but the peace was that of despair."[1] In violation of that treaty, a severe act was passed against Roman Catholics; they were hunted like wild beasts, and terrible vengeance was now taken for that Act of Attainder (S499) which James had issued. Furthermore, England selfishly closed her own ports and those of her colonies against Irish products; this policy starved the industry of that unfortunate island.
[1] Green's "Short History of the English People."
501. Massacre of Glencoe (1692).
Fighting against William and Mary had also been going on in Scotland; for Claverhouse, or "Bonny Dundee" (S472), was an ardent adherent of James II and vowed, "Ere the King's crown shall fall, there are crowns to be broke."[2] But the Jacobites, or adherents of James (S495), had been conquered, and a proclamation was sent out commanding all the Highland clans to take the oath of allegiance before the beginning of the new year (1692).
[2] Scott's Poems, "Bonny Dundee."
A chief of the clan of the Macdonalds of Glencoe, through no fault of his own, failed to make submission within the appointed time. Scotch enemies of the clan told the King that the chief had refused to take the oath, and urged William "to extirpate that set of thieves." The King signed an order to that effect, without clearly understnading what was intended.
Thereupon the Scotch authorities sent a body of soldiers to Glencoe, who were hospitably received by the Macdonalds. After stopping with them a number of days, they rose before light one winter morning, and, suddenly attacking their friendly hosts, murdered all the men who did not escape, and drove the women and children into the snowdrifts to perish of cold and hunger.
They finished their work of destruction by burning the cabins and driving away the cattle. By this act, Glencoe, or the "Glen of Weeping," was changed into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. The blame which attaches to William is that he did nothing toward punishing those who planned and carried out the horrible massacre.
502. La Hogue; the Peace of Ryswick, 1697.
The English naval commander, Admiral Russell, like many of William's pretended friends and supporters, had been engaged in treasonable correspondence with James II. If the latter succeeded in recovering his crown, the Admiral hoped to bask in the sunshine of royal favor; but he later changed his mind and fought so bravely in the sea fight off La Hogue that the French supporters of James were utterly beaten.
King William, however, continued his Continental wars for the next five years, until, by the Peace of Ryswick, in Holland, 1697, Louis XIV bound himself to recognize William as King of England, the Princess Anne[1] as his successor, to withdraw all support from James, and to place the chief fortresses of the Netherlands, or Low Countries, in the hands of the Dutch garrisons. The Peace of Ryswick marked the end of the conspiracy between Louis and the Stuarts to turn England into a Roman Catholic country dependent on France (SS477, 488). When William went in solemn state to return thanks for the conclusion of the war, it was to the new cathedral of St. Paul's, which Wren had nearly completed (S474), and which was then first used for public worship.
[1] The second (Protestant) daughter of James II. See Genealogical Table, p. 323.
503. The National Debt, 1693; the Bank of England, 1694.
William had now gained, at least temporarily, the object that he had in view when he accepted the English crown. He had succeeded in drawing the English into a close defensive alliance against Lois XIV,[2] who, as we have seen, was bent on destroying both the political and the religious liberty of the Dutch as a Protestant people (S476).
[2] Guizot's "History of Civilization," chap. xiii.
William's wars had compelled him to borrow large sums from the London merchants. Out of these loans sprang the permanent National Debt. That debt was destined to grow from less than a million of pounds to so many hundred millions that all thought of ever paying it has long since been given up. Furthermore, it became necessary to organize a Banking Company, 1694, for the management of this collosal debt; together the two were destined to become more widely known than any of William's victories.
The building erected by that Company covers not far from four acres of land in the very heart of London. In the first room which one enters stands a statue of the King, bearing this inscription: "To the memory of the best of Princes, William of Orange, founder of the Bank of England,"—the largest and most important financial institution in the world.
504. William's Death.
King William hasd a brave soul in a feeble body. All his life he was an invalid, but he learned to conquer disease, or at least to hold it in check, as he conquered his enemies. He was worn out by overwork, sickness, and the cares of office. If he could have been assured of the safety of his beloved Holland, death would have been welcome to one who had so long been stretched "upon the hard rack of this tough world." He was never popular in England, and at one time was kept from returning to his native country only through the earnest protestation of the Lord Chancellor, who refused to stamp the King's resignation with the Great Seal (S145).
There were plots to assassinate him, and many who pretended to be friends were treacherous, and only wanted a good opportunity to go over to the side of James II. Others were eager to hear of his death, and when it occurred, through the stumbling of his horse over a molehill, they drank to "the little gentleman in black velvet," whose work underground caused the fatal accident.
505. Summary.
William's reign was a prolonged struggle for the great Protestant cause and for the maintenance of political liberty in both England and Holland. Invalid as he was, he was yet a man of indomitable resolution as well as indomitable courage.
Though a foreigner by birth, and caring more for Holland than for any other country in the world, yet, through his Irish and Continental wars with James II and Louis XIV, he helped more than any other man of the seventeenth century, Cromwell alone excepted, to make England free.
506. Accession and Character of Anne.
William (S504) left no children, and according to the provisions of the Bill of Rights (S497)[1] the Princess Anne, younger sister of the late Queen Mary, now came to the throne. She was a negative character, with kindly impulses and little intelligence. "When in good humor she was meekly stupid, and when in ill humor, sulkily stupid."[2] But if there was any person duller than her Majesty, that person was her Majesty's husband, Prince George of Denmark. Charles II, who knew him well, said, "I have tried Prince George sober, and I have tried him drunk, and drunk or sober, there is nothing in him."
[1] See the Bill of Rights (third paragraph) on page xxxi of the Appendix. [2] Macaulay's "England"; and compare Stanhope's "Reign of Anne."
Along with the amiable qualities which gained for the new ruler the title of "Good Queen Anne" her Majesty inherited the obstinacy, the prejudices, and the superstitions of the Stuart sovereigns. Though a most zealous Protestant and an ardent upholder of the Church of England, she declared her faith in the Divine Right of Kings (SS419, 429), which had cost her grandfather, Charles I, his head, and she was the last English sovereign who believed that the touch of the royal hand could dispel disease.
The first theory she never openly proclaimed in any offensive way, but the harmless delusion that she could relieve the sick was a favorite notion with her; and we find in the LondonGazette(March 12, 1712) an official announcement, stating that on certain days the Queen would "touch" for the cure of "king's evil," or scrofula.
Among the multitudes who went to test her power was a poor Lichfield bookseller. He carried to her his little half-blind, sickly boy, who, by virtue either of her Majesty's beneficent fingers or from some other and better reason, grew up to be known as the famous author and lexicographer, Dr. Samuel Johnson.[2]
[2] Johnson told Boswell, his biographer, that he remembered the incident, and that "he had a confused, but somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds and a long black hood."—Boswell's "Johnson."
507. Whig and Tory; High Church and Low.
Politically, the government of the country was divided between the two great parties of the Whigs and the Tories (S479), since uscceeded by the Liberals and Conservatives. Though mutually hostile, each believing that its rival's success meant national ruin, yet both were sincerely opposed to despotism on the one hand, and to anarchy on the other. The Whigs (S479), setting Parliament above the throne, were pledged to maintain the Act of Settlement (S497) and the Protestant succession; while the Tories (S479), insisting on a strict, unbroken line of hereditary sovereigns, were anxious to set aside that act and restore the excluded Stuarts (S494).
The Church of England was likewise divided into two parties, known as High Church and Low Church. The first, who were generally Tories, wished to exalt the power of the bishops and were opposed to the toleration of Dissenters (S472); the second, who were Whigs as a rule, believed it best to curtail the authority of the bishops, and to secure to all Trinitarian Protestants entire liberty of worship and all civil and political rights and privileges. Thus to the bitterness of heated political controversy there was added the still more acrid bitterness of theological dispute.
Addison illustrates the feeling that then prevailed by an amusing story of an earlier occurrence. A boy who had lost his way in London was called a "popish cur" by a Whig because he ventured to inquire for Saint Anne's Lane, while he was cuffed for irreverence by a Tory when, correcting himself, he asked bluntly for Anne's Lane.
The Queen, although she owed her crown mainly to the Whigs (S479), sympathized with the Tories (S479) and the High Church, and did all in her power to strengthen both. As for the leaders of the two parties, they seem to have looked out first for themselves, and afterwards— often a long way afterwards—for their country. During the whole reign they were plotting and counterplotting, mining and undermining. Their subtle schemes to secure office and destroy each other become as incomprehensible and fathomless as those of the fallen angels in Milton's vision of the bottomless pit.
508. The War of the Spanish Succession, 1702.
Anne had no sooner come to the throne than war broke out with France. It had its origin in the previous reign. William III had cared little for England compared with his native Holland, whose interests always had the first place in his heart. He had spent his life battling to preserve the independence of the Dutch republic and fighting Louis XIV of France, who was determined, if possible, to annex the Netherlands, including Holland, to his own dominions (S502).
During the latter part of William's reign the French King seemed likely to be able to accomplish his purpose. The King of Spain, who had no children, was in feeble health, and at his death it was probable that Louis XIV's grandson, Philip of Anjou, would receive the crown. If that happened, Louis XIV, who was then the most powerful prince in Europe, would obtain the control of the Spanish dominions, which, besides Spain, comprise a large part of the Netherlands,[1] parts of Italy, and immense provinces in South America. The possession of such an empire would make Louis irresistible in Europe, and the little, free Protestant states of Holland could not hope to stand before him.
[1] The whole of the Netherlands at one time belonged to Spain, but the northern part, or Holland, had succeeded in establishing its independence, and was protected on the southern frontier by a line of fortified towns.
Not long afterwards, the King of Spain died and bequeathed the crown to Philip of Anjou. When Philip left Paris for Madrid, Louis XIV exultingly exclaimed, "The Pyrenees no longer exist." That was simply his short way of saying, Now France and Spain are made one, and FRANCE is that one.[2]
[2] When Philip of Anjou went to Spain, Louis XIV, by letters patent, conditionally reserved the succession to the Spanish throne to France, thus virtually uniting the two countries, so that the Pyrenees Mountains would no longer have any political meaning as a boundary between the two countries.
Louis at once put French garrisons in the border towns of the Spanish Netherlands, and he thus had a force ready at any moment to march across the frontier into Holland. Finally, on the death of the royal refugee, James II (S9491), which occurred shortly before King William's death, Louis XIV publicly acknowledged the exiled monarch's son, James Edward, the so-called "Old Pretender" (SS490, 491), as rightful sovereign of England, Scotland, and Ireland.
This effectually roused the English people; they were prepared for hostilities when William's sudden death occurred (S504). Immediately after Anne came to the throne (1702) war with France was declared, and since it had grown out of Louis's designs on the crown of Spain, it was called the "War of the Spanish Succession."
The contest was begun by England, mainly to prevent the French King from carrying out his threat of placing the so-called "Pretender," son of the late James II, on the English throne and so overturning the Bill of Rights (S497) and the Act of Settlement (S497), and thereby restoring the country to the Roman Catholic Stuarts. Later, the war came to have two other important objects. The first of these was to defend Holland, now a most valuable ally; the second was to protect the colonies of Virginia and New England against the power of France, which threatened, through its own American colonies and through the extensive Spanish possessions it expected to acquire, to get control of the whole of the New World.[1]
[1] At this time England had twelve American colonies extending from New England to South Carolina, inclusive, with part of Newfoundland. France and Spain claimed all the rest of the continent.
Thus England had three objects at stake: (1) The maintenance of Protestant government at home. (2) The maintenance of the Protestant power of Holland. (3) The retention of a large part of the American continent.
For this reason the War of the Spanish Succession may be regarded as the beginning of a second Hundred Years' War between England and France (S237),[2] one destined to decide which was to build up the great empire of the future in the western hemisphere.[3]
[2] During the next eighty years fighting was going on between England and France, directly or indirectly, for a great part of the time. [3] Seeley's "Expansion of England."
509. Marlborough; Blenheim, Gibraltar, and Other Victories (1702-1709).
John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough (S491), commanded the English and Dutch forces, and had for his ally Prince Eugene of Savoy, who led the German armies. The Duke, who was known in the enemy's camps by the flattering name of "the handsome Englishman," had risen from obscurity. He owed the beginning of his success to his good looks and a court intrigue. In politics he sympathized chiefly with the Tories (S479), but his interests in the war led him to support the Whigs (S479).
He was avaricious, unscrupulous, and teacherous. James II trusted him, and he deceived him and went over to William (S491); William trusted him, and he deceived him and opened a treasonable correspondence with the dethroned James; Anne trusted him, and he would undoubtedly have betrayed her if the so-called "Pretender" (SS490, 491) had been able to bid high enough, or if he could have shown him that his cause was likely to be successful. In his greed for money the Duke hesitated at nothing; he took bribes from army contractors, and robbed his soldiers of their pay.[1]
[1] See Hallam, Macaulay; and Thackeray's "Henry Esmond."
As a soldier, Marlborough had no equal. Voltaire says of him with truth that "he never besieged a fortress which he did not take, nor fought a battle which he did not win." This man, at once so able and so false, to whom war was a private speculation rather than a contest for right or principle, now opened the campaign. He captured those fortresses in the Spanish Netherlands which Louis XIV had garrisoned with French troops to menace Holland, but he could not induce the enemy to rish a battle in the open field.
At length, Marlborough, by a brilliant movement (1704), changed the scene of the war from the Netherlands to Bavaria in southern Germany. There, at the little village of Blenheim,[2] he, with Prince Eugene, gained a victory over the French which saved Germany from the power of Louis XIV. (See map opposite.) England, out of gratitude for the humiliation of her powerful enemy, presented the Duke with the ancient royal Park of Woodstock, near Oxford, and built for him the palace of Blenheim, which the architect called "the biggest house for the biggest man in England." It is still occupied by descendants of the Duke's family. A few days before the battle of Blenheim, a powerful English fleet had attacked and taken Gibraltar (1704). England thus gained and still holds the command of the great inland sea of the Mediterranean. In the course of the next five years Marlborough fought three great battles,[3] by which he drove the French out of the Netherlands once for all, and finally beat them on a hotly contested field in northern France. The power of Louis XIV was now so far broken that England no longer felt any fear that he would overcome her colonies in America (S508).
[2] Blenheim: The palace grounds are nearly twelve miles in circumference. The Marlborough family hold Blenheim on condition that they present a flag every year (August 2) to the English sovereign at Windsor Castle. [3] Ramillies (1706); Oudenarde (1708); Malplaquet (1709).
510. The Powers behind the Throne; Jennings against Masham.
But if the Duke of Marlborough was remarkable, so too was his wife. While the war was going on, the real power of the Crown, though it stood in Anne's name, was practically in the hands of Sarah Jennings, Duchess of Marlborough, who held the office of Mistress of the Robes. She and the Queen had long been inseparable, and it was her influence that cause Anne to desert her father (S491) and espouse the cause of William of Orange.
The imperious temper of the Duchess carried all before it, and in her department she won victories which might well be compared with those the Duke, her husband, gained on the field of battle. In time her sway over her royal companion grew to be so absolute that she seemed to decide everything, from questions of state to the cut of a gown or the color of a ribbon. Finally, it became a common saying that "Queen Anne reigns, but Queen Sarah governs."[1]
[1] For years the Queen and the Duchess corresponded almost daily under the names of "Mrs. Morley" (the Queen) and "Mrs. Freeman" (the Duchess), the latter taking that name because, she said, it suited the frank and bold character of her letters.
While the Duchess continued in power, she used her influence to urge forward the war with France undertaken by England to check the designs of Louis XIV on Spain and Holland, and also to punish him for his recognition of the claim of the Pretender to the English crown (S491). Her object was to advance her husband, who, as commander in chief of the English and Dutch forces on the Continent, had won fame and fortune,—the first by his splendid ability, the second by his unscrupulous greed (S509).
After a number of years, the Queen and the Duchess quarreled, and the latter was superseded by her cousin, a Mrs. Masham (1711), who soon got as complete control of Anne as the former favorite had possessed. Mrs. Masham was as sly and supple as the Duchess had been dictatorial and violent. She was cousin to Robert Harley, a prominent Tory politician (S479). Through her influence Harley now became Prime Minister in everything but name. He succeeded in putting a stop to further fighting, and Marlborough was ordered home in disgrace on a charge of having robbed the government. Thus it was, as Hallam remarks, that "the fortunes of Europe were changed by the insolence of one waiting woman and the cunning of another."[1]
511. Dr. Sacheverell (1710).
An incident occurred about this time which greatly helped the Tories (S479) in their schemes. Dr. Sacheverell, a violent Tory and High Churchman (S507), began preaching a series of vehement sermons in London condemning the Whig policy which called for the reopening of the war. He also endeavored to revive the exploding theory of the Divine Right of Kings (S419, 429), and declared that no tyranny on the part of a sovereign could by any possibility justify a subject in resisting the royal will. The Whig leaders brought the preacher to trial for alleged treasonable utterances (1710). He was suspended from his office for three years, and his book of sermons was publicly burned by the common hangman.
This created intense popular excitement; Sacheverell was regarded as a political martyr by all who wished the war ended. A reaction against the Government set in; the Whigs (S479) were driven from power, and the Tories passed two very harsh laws[2] against Dissenters (S472), though they were repealed a few years later. The Duchess of Marlborough had to leave her apartments in the palace of St. James, and in her spite broke down marble mantels and tore off the locks from doors. Mrs. Masham's friends, the Tories (S479), or peace party, who had now triumphed, prepared to put a complete end to the fighting.
[2] These were the Occasional Conformity Act and the Schism Act (S518).
512. The Peace of Utrecht, 1713.
Not long after this change a messenger was privately dispatched to Louis XIV to ask if he wished for peace. "It was," says the French minister, "like asking a dying man whether he would wish to be cured."[3] Later, terms were secretly agreed upon between the Tories (S479) and the French, and in 1713, in the quaint Dutch city of Utrecht, the allies, together with France and Spain, signed the treaty bearing that name.
[2] Morris's "The Age of Anne."
By it Louis XIV bound himself: (1) To acknowledge the right of England to limit the succession to the crown to Protestant sovereigns (S497). (2) To compel Prince James Edward, the so-called "Pretender" (SS490, 491) to quit France. (3) To renounce the union of the crowns of France and Spain; but Philip was to retain the Spanish throne (S508). (4) To cede to England all claims to Newfoundland, Acadia, or Nova Scotia, and that vast region known as the Hudson Bay Company's Possessions.
Next, Spain was to give up: (1) The Spanish Netherlands to Austria, an ally of Holland, and grant to the Dutch a line of forts to defend their frontier against France. (2) England was to have the exclusive right for thirty-three years of supplying the Spanish-American colonists with negro slaves.[1]
[1] This right (called the "Assiento," or Contract) had formerly belonged to France. By its transfer England got the privilege of furnishing 4800 "sound, merchantable negroes "annually," "two thirds to be males" between ten and forty years of age.
This trade had long been coveted by the English, and had been carried on to some extent by them ever since Sir John Hawkins entered upon it in Queen Elizabeth's reign. Sir John grew very rich through his traffic in human flesh, and he set up a coat of arms emblazoned with a slave in fetters, so that all might see how he had won wealth and distinction.
513. Union of England and Scotland, 1707.
Since the accession of James I (1603), England and Scotland had been ruled by one sovereign, but each country retained its own Parliament and its own forms of worship. In 1707 the two countries were finally united under the name of Great Britain.
The Established (Presbyterian) Church of Scotland and the Scottish laws were to be preserved. The independent Parliament of Scotland was given up, and the Scotch were henceforth represented in the English Parliament by sixteen peers chosen by members of the Scottish peerage at the summoning of every Parliament; and by forty-five (now seventy- two) members returned by Scotland to the House of Commons.
With the consummation of the union between the two countries Great Britain adopted a new flag, the Union Jack, which was formed by the junction of the red cross of St. George of England and the white cross of St. Andrew of Scotland.[1]
[1] After Ireland was united to Great Britain (1800) the red cross of St. Patrick was added to the flag (1801). The first Union Jack was the work of James I, whose usual signature was Jacques (hence "Jack"), French for James.
514. Literature of the Period; the First Daily Paper.
The reign of Anne has been characterized as one of corruption in high places and of brutality in low, but in literature it takes rank next to that of Elizabeth (S393). There was indeed no great central luminary like Shakespeare, but a constellation of lesser ones,—such as Addison, Defoe, and Pope. They shone with a splendor of their own. The lurid brilliancy of the half-mad satirist Dean Swift was beginning to command attention; on the other hand, the calm, clear light of the philosopher John Locke was near its setting.
Aside from these great names in letters, it was an age generally of contented dullness, well represented in the good-natured mediocrity of Queen Anne herself. During her reign the first daily newspaper (SS422, 443) appeared in England,—the Daily Courant (1703); it was a dingy, badly printed little sheet, not much bigger than a man's hand. The publisher said he made it so small "to save the Publick at least one half the Impertinences of Ordinary News-Papers."
Perhaps it was well this journal set up no greater pretensions, for it had to compete with swarms of abusive political pamphlets, such as Swift wrote for the Tories and Defoe for the Whigs (S479). It had also to compete with the gossip and scandal of the coffeehouses and the clubs; for this reason the proprietor found it no easy matter either to fill it or to sell it.
A few years later (1711) a periodical appeared, called the Spectator. It was published daily, and Addison, its chief contributor, soon made it famous. Each number consisted of an essay hitting off the follies and foibles of the age, and it was regularly served at the breakfast tables of people of fashion along with their tea and toast.
One of the greatest merits of the Spectator was its happy way of showing that wit and virtue are after all better friends than wit and vice. Neither this little magazine nor the newspapers of that time dared to publish a single line of parliamentary debate. But they marked the humble beginning of that vast organized power, represented by the daily press of London, which discusses everything of interest throughout the world.
515. Death of the Queen.
The ingratitude of public men and the furious quarrels of politicians so teased and vexed the Queen that she at last fell into a fatal illness. Her physician wrote to Dean Swift, "I believe sleep was never more welcome to a weary traveler than death was to her." When she laid down the scepter (1714) she left no heir to the throne, and so the power of the Stuarts (S415) came to an end.
According to the terms of the Act of Settlement (S497) the crown now passed to George, Elector of Hanover, a Protestant descendant of James I of England. (See Table, p. 323.) James Edward, son of James II, believed to the last that his half-sister, Queen Anne, would name him her successor;[1] instead of that it was she who first dubbed him the "Pretender" (S491).
[1] Anne and the so-called "Pretender" were children of James II by different mothers.
516. Summary.
The whole reign of Anne was taken up with the strife of political parties at home, and the War of the Spanish Succession abroad. The Whigs (S479) were always intriguing through the Duchess of Marlborough and other leaders to keep up the war and to keep out the so-called "Pretender"; the Tories (S479), on the other hand, were just as busy through Mrs. Masham and her coadjutors in endeavoring to establish peace, and with it the Divine Right of Kings (SS419, 429).
The extreme Tories hoped for the restoration of the Roman CatholicStuarts in the person of James Edward, the so-called "Pretender." TheWar of the Spanish Succession resulted in the defeat of Louis XIV andthe confirmation of that Act of Settlement (S497) which secured theEnglish crown to a Protestant prince.
1603-1714 (Commonwealth, 1649-1660)
I. Government. II. Religion. III. Military Affairs. IV. Literature andLearning. V. General Industry and Commerce. Vi. Mode of Life,Manners, and Customs
I. Government
517. The Divine Right of Kings; the Civil War; the "Glorious Revolution" of 1688.
The period began with the attempt of James I to carry out his theory that the King derives his right to rule directly from God, and in no wise from the people. Charles I adopted this disastrous theory, and was supported in it by Manwaring and other clergymen, who declared that the King represents God on earth, and that the subject who resists his will, or refuses a tax or loan to him, does so at the everlasting peril of his soul.
Charles I's arbitrary methods of government and levies of illegal taxes, with the imprisonment of those who refused to pay them, led to the meeting of the Long Parliament and the enactment in 1628 of the statue of the Petition of Right, or second great charter of English liberties.
The same Parliament abolished the despotic courts of Star Chamber and High Commission, which had been used by Strafford and Laud to carry out their tyrannical scheme called "Thorough."
Charles I's renewed acts of oppression and open violation of the laws, with his levies of "ship money," led to the Grand Remonstrance, an appeal to the nation to support Parliament in its struggle with the King. The attempt of the King to arrest five members who had taken a prominent part in drawing up the Remonstrance brought on the Civil War and the establishment of the Commonwealth. The new republic was utterly opposed to the doctrine of the Divine Right of Kings. It declared "the People are, under God, the origin of all just power." Eventually Cromwell became Protector of the nation, and ruled by means of a strong military force.
On the restoration of the Stuarts, Feudal Tenure and the Right of Purveyance were abolished by Parliament (1660). Charles II endeavored to rule without Parliament by selling his influence to Louis XIV, by the secret Treaty of Dover. During his reign, the Habeas Corpus Act was passed and feudalism was practically abolished.
James II endeavored to restore the Roman Catholic religion. His treatment of the University of Oxford, and imprisonment of the Seven Bishops, with the birth of a son who would be educated as a Roman Catholic, caused the Revolution of 1688, and placed William and Mary on the throne.
Parliament now, 1689, passed the Bill of Rights, the third great charter for the protection of the English people, and later confirmed it, 1701, by the Act of Settlement, which secured the crown to a line of Protestant sovereigns. The Mutiny Bill, passed at the beginning of William III's reign, made the army dependent on Parliament. These measures practically put the government in the hands of the House of Commons, where it has ever since remained. The Long Parliament had passed a Triennial Act (1641) requiring a new Parliament to be summoned within three years from the dissolution of the last Parliament, which was to sit not longer than three years. This law was repealed in 1664 and reenacted under William III in 1694. William's wars caused the beginning of the National Debt and the establishment of the Bank of England.