Chapter XIX: Reign of Charles I (2)

Charles was left by his own wild devices to try how his fancied right divine would furnish him funds to discharge his debts at home and his obligations abroad. That he was not insensible to his danger, or to the price which he had paid for the support of his favourite, is made plain to us by Meade, the careful chronicler of the time. "The duke," he says, "being in the bed-chamber private with the king, his majesty was overheard, as they say, to use these words: 'What can I do more? I have engaged mine honour to mine uncle of Denmark and other princes. I have, in a manner, lost the love of my subjects, and what wouldst thou have me do?' Whence some think the duke meant the king to dissolve the Parliament." But however he might feel this, he was in no disposition to take warning; the spirit and the inculcations of his father worked in him victorious over any better instincts. No sooner had he dismissed Parliament, than he seized the Earl of Bristol, and Arundel, the Earl Marshal, and thrust Bristol into the Tower. This bit of petty spite enacted, he set about boldly to do everything that the Commons had been striving against. The Commons had published their remonstrance; he published a counter-declaration, and commanded all persons having that of the Commons to burn it, or expect his resentment. He then issued a warrant, levying duties on all exports and imports; ordered the fines from the Catholics to be rigorously enforced, but offering to compound with rich recusants for an annual sum, so as to procure a fixed income from that source. A Commission was issued to inquire into the proceeds of the Crown lands, and to grant leases, remit feudal services, and convert copyholds into freeholds, on certain charges. Privy seals were again issued to noblemen, gentlemen, and merchants, for the advance of loans, and London was called on to furnish one hundred and twenty thousand pounds; and as if the king already feared that his arbitrary acts might produce disturbance, he ordered the different seaports, under the plea of protecting the coasts, to provide and maintain during three months a certain number of armed vessels, and the lord-lieutenants of counties to muster the people, and train troops to arms to prevent internal riot or foreign invasion.

At the moment that the king was thus daringly setting both Parliament and the country at defiance, came the news that a terrible battle had been fought at Lutter between the Austrians under Tilly, and the Protestant allies under Charles's uncle, the King of Denmark; that the allies were defeated and driven across the Elbe; all their baggage and ammunition lost, and the whole circle of Lower Saxony left exposed to the soldiers of Ferdinand. This was the death-blow to the cause of the Elector Palatine. But Charles seized the occasion to raise money by a fresh forced loan on a large scale, on pretence of the necessity of aiding Protestantism, and as if to make the lawless demand the more intolerable, the Commissioners were armed with the most arbitrary powers. All who refused to comply with this illegal demand, this body was authorised to interrogate on oath, as to their reasons, and who were their advisers, and they were bound by oath never to divulge what passed between them and the Commissioners.

Charles issued a proclamation, excusing his conduct by alleging that the necessities of the State did not admit of waiting for the reassembling of Parliament, and assuring his loving subjects that whatever was now paid would be remitted in the collection of the next subsidy. He also addressed a letter to the clergy, calling on them to exhort their parishioners from the pulpit to obedience and liberality. But such were the relative positions of king and Parliament, that people were not very confident of any speedy grant from that body, and the good faith of both Charles and his favourite had become so dubious, that many refused to pay. The names of these were transmitted to the Council, and the vengeance of the Court was let loose upon them. The rich were fined and imprisoned, the poor were forcibly enrolled in the army or navy, that "they might serve with their bodies, since they refused to serve with their purses." In vain were appeals made to the king against this intolerable tyranny; he would listen to no one. Amongst the names of those who suffered on this occasion, stand those of Sir John Eliot and John Hampden, as well as of Wentworth, soon to become the staunch upholder of Absolutism.

In towns the people did not conceal their indignation at these proceedings. "Six poor tradesmen at Chelmsford stood out stiffly, notwithstanding the many threats and promises made them;" and the Londoners loudly shouted, "A Parliament! a Parliament! No Parliament no money!" Still Charles went on in his mad course; no voice, mortal or immortal, could even for a moment break the spell of his delusion. Those judges and magistrates who were averse from enforcing the detestable orders were summarily dismissed. Sir Randolph Carew, the Chief Justice of the King's Bench, must give way to the more pliant Sir Nicholas Hyde, the adviser of Buckingham. But the lawyers in general were ready enough to break the laws by order of the Court, and the clergy were still more so. Laud was now advanced, for his Absolutist and Popish predilections, to the see of Bath and Wells, and sent forth a circular to the clergy enjoining them to preach up zealously the advance of money to the Crown, as a work meriting salvation. He openly advocated a strict league and confederacy between the Church and State, by which they might trample upon all schism, heresy, and disloyalty. There was no lack of time-servers to second his efforts. Roger Mainwaring, one of the king's chaplains, a true high-priest to the golden calf, with the most shameless prostitution of the pulpit, declared before the king and Court at Whitehall, that the power of the king was above all courts and parliaments; that parliament was but an inferior kind of council, entirely at the king's will; that the king's order was sufficient authority for the raising of money, and that all who refused it were guilty of unutterable sin and liable to damnation. He insulted the Scriptures by dragging them in to prove all this, and would have sold, not his own soul only, but the souls of the whole nation to obtain a bishopric. He had his desire; and the success of such religious toadyism inflamed the clergy in the country with a like abjectness. One Robert Sibthorpe, vicar of Brackley, in an assize sermon preached at Northampton, declared that even if the king commanded people to resist the Law of God, they were to obey him, to show no resistance, no railing, no reviling, to be all passive obedience. To demonstrate the Scriptural soundness of his doctrine, he quoted this verse of the Book of Ecclesiastes (viii. 4.): "Where the word of a king is, there is power: and who may say unto him, What doest thou?"

Abbot, the Archbishop, was applied to, to license the printing of this sermon; but the old man, who had always had a Puritan leaning, which his high post alone prevented him from more fully demonstrating, declined to do it. In vain the king insisted: the archbishop was suspended and sent to his country house; and Laud, who was hankering earnestly after the Primacy, licensed the sermon. Sibthorpe did not fail of his reward; he was appointed chaplain in ordinary, and received a prebend in Peterborough, and the goodly living of Burton Latimer. Andrew Marvell designated these model Churchmen as "exceedingly pragmatical, intolerably ambitious, and so desperately proud that scarcely any gentleman might come near the tails of their mules." The subserviency of the clergy was not one of the least evils which a tyrannic court fostered. The people saw more clearly than ever that the Church under such circumstances would become the staunch ally of despotism; and many even of its own honourable members, in the higher walks of life, shrank away from it and joined the ranks of the Puritans, for no other reason than that they were resolute for the liberty of the subject.

The state of feeling on both sides of the Channel meanwhile hastened an open rupture. The French were highly incensed at the treatment of the queen's retinue, who, having become an intense nuisance, were packed off to Paris. Thereupon the most sinister reports were spread among the people, who eagerly imbibed the idea that their princess was a victim in the hands of her heretic husband; and they were ready to avenge themselves on England or on the Protestants of their own country. On the other hand, Charles ascribed his disasters, the defeat of his brother-in-law's allies in Germany, and his consequent unpopularity at home, to the failure of Louis of France in giving the aid which he had promised. Through this default Charles considered that he had sunk a million of money, ten thousand soldiers, and lost the favour of his people. In these ideas he was strengthened by the emissaries of the French Protestants; and very soon Devic and Montague were despatched by Charles to concert measures with the Huguenots, and Soubise and Brancard were received at London as their envoys. It was finally determined that Charles should send a fleet and army to La Rochelle, which the Duke de Rohan should join with four thousand men. It was rumoured that it was planned for a Protestant state to be established between the Loire and Garonne, at the head of which Buckingham should be placed. That there was some great scheme of the kind is certain, for Charles, in dismissing ambassadors from his uncle the King of Denmark, said that he kept his full design from them; "for," he remarked, "I think it needless, or rather hurtful, to discover my main intent in this business, because divulging it, in my mind, must needs hazard it."

Meanwhile France, on its side, had not been inactive. Richelieu had listened not only to the discontent of the French at the concessions made by Bassompierre, the French ambassador, in the matter of the number of the queen's religious advisers, but to the urgent entreaties of the Pope's nuncio, who had never ceased, since the expulsion of Henrietta's priests, to call on Louis to avenge that insult to the Church, and had concluded a treaty with Spain, for mutual defence and for the punishment of England. They regarded the fleet preparing in the English ports, on the pretence of chastising the Algerines and giving aid to the Palsgrave, as really destined against France and Spain, and they planned not only a defence of their own coasts but a descent on the shores of England. It was agreed that Spanish ships should be received in French ports and French ones in those of Spain.

The English, on their part, swept the ships of all nations from the sea, on the plea that they might contain Spanish goods. Letters of mark were issued, and no nations were spared by the cruisers, not even those in alliance with England. The Hanse Towns, the Dutch States, and even the King of Denmark, had to make zealous remonstrances. Louis of France had not confined himself to remonstrances even before signing the treaty with Spain, but had laid an embargo on all English ships in French harbours. But now orders were issued by both the French and English Courts for the suspension of commercial intercourse between the two nations.

On the 27th of June, 1627, the English fleet sailed out of Portsmouth. It consisted of forty-two ships of war, thirty-four transports, and carried seven regiments of infantry, of nine hundred men each, a squadron of cavalry, and a numerous body of French Protestants, altogether about seven or eight thousand men. That it might this time succeed, the Duke of Buckingham took command of it, for in his self-conceit he attributed former failures to his not being on the spot in person, to give the troops the advantage of his consummate genius and experience; the whole of his military genius, if he had any, being yet to be discovered, and the whole of his experience amounting to having seen soldiers on parade. His plans were kept so secret--even from the friends with whom he was to co-operate--that arriving on the 11th of July before La Rochelle, the inhabitants refused to permit him to land. It was in vain that Sir William Beecher and their own envoy Soubise entreated them to receive those who were come as their allies and defenders: the people distrusted Buckingham, and declared that they would make no hostile demonstration against Louis till they had consulted the other churches and got in their harvest. This displayed a dreadful want of management on the part of the English; and Buckingham, thus shut out by those whom he came to support, turned his attention to the neighbouring isles of Rhé and Oléron, which the Huguenots had some time ago surrendered to their king. He decided to invade Rhé, and made his descent the very next day, on the 12th of July. His sudden diversion in this direction took Toyras, the governor of the island, by surprise; the small force with which he attempted to prevent their landing was defeated; but Buckingham, loitering on the shore for four or five days, in landing the remainder of his troops, allowed Toyras to convey the provisions, wine, and ammunition on the island into the strong citadel of the town of St. Martin. A small fort called La Prée lay in Buckingham's path, but he did not stay to take that, but pushed on to St. Martin. The castle stood on a rock overlooking the town and bay, and experienced officers were struck with great misgivings at the sight of it. Buckingham talked of taking it by a _coup de main_, but Sir John Burroughs, an officer who had acquired a real knowledge of war and sieges in the Netherlands, shook his head and pronounced the place next to impregnable, and that an attempt to storm it would be a useless waste of lives. It was then determined to invest the place in force; but Burroughs was equally dissatisfied with the unscientific construction of the trenches and batteries which were prepared. Buckingham, instead of benefiting by the counsels of this experienced officer, reprimanded him with a sternness which silenced more compliant men. In a few days a shot silenced altogether the honestly officious Burroughs, and the duke went on with his siege only to find that, as that officer had predicted, the fort defied all his efforts.

The news of this attack on France spread consternation amongst the allies of the Palsgrave; the prince himself, the States of Holland, and the King of Denmark, all hastened to express their astonishment and dismay at this rupture between the two great powers who should have enabled them by their united efforts to re-conquer the Palatinate. They would not admit Charles's representation of his obligation to support the French Protestants as of sufficient moment to induce him to destroy the hopes of Protestantism in Germany, and of his own sister and brother-in-law. They begged to be permitted to mediate between the two crowns: Denmark sent ambassadors instantly to Paris, to use its influence for that purpose with the French Court; and the Dutch deprived of their commissions all English officers in their service, who had joined the expedition to La Rochelle.

But they could not move Charles. He wrote to Buckingham, congratulating him on the success of his attempt on Rhé, which was yet no success at all; promising him fresh reinforcements and provisions, and exhorting him to prosecute the war with vigour and to listen to no proposals of peace. He applauded a proclamation which Buckingham had prepared, to assure the French Protestants that the King of England had no intention of conquest, his sole object being to compel the King of France to fulfil his engagements towards the French Protestants into which he had entered with them; that, despite these engagements, he had not dismantled Fort Louis, in the vicinity of La Rochelle; but, on the contrary, had endeavoured to surprise the town and reduce it by force to comply with his own religious demands. Charles, however, ordered Buckingham to make an alteration in the manifesto, so that instead of the defence of the Protestants being the sole cause of his coming, it should be the chief cause, and allow him to put forward other reasons for his hostilities as occasion might require.

With this proclamation in his hand, the Duke de Rohan made a tour amongst the Huguenot churches in the south of France, where the people listened to him with enthusiasm, and all who dissented from the vow to live and die with the English liberators were denounced as traitors. Rohan was empowered to raise forces and advance to the support of La Rochelle; but La Rochelle was in no haste to declare itself, for Richelieu had marched an army into the neighbourhood, and kept it in check. It was the last to hoist the flag of revolt, and it was for the last time.

But all this time Buckingham was experiencing the truth of the warnings of Burroughs: no impression whatever was made on the citadel of St. Martin. Charles's promised reinforcements did not arrive. He wrote to explain the causes of the delay--being the difficulty of obtaining mariners, and the slowness of the Commissioners of the Navy; but he assured him that the Earl of Holland was preparing to bring out fresh forces. On the 12th of August there was a rumour of an attempt to assassinate Buckingham by a Jesuit, with a thick three-edged knife; but a real wound was inflicted on his reputation by a French flotilla bursting the boom which he had drawn across the harbour, despite his fleet, and throwing provisions into Fort St. Martin, in spite of himself. This disaster produced violent altercations between his ill-managed army and fleet. The army charged the misfortune to the sheer negligence of the fleet, and the fleet only answered by loud clamours for pay, having, it appeared, received nothing the whole time.

Under these circumstances Buckingham displayed all the wavering confusion of mind which characterises an inefficient commander. One day he was ready to comply with the written requisition of the officers of the army to abandon the siege; the next, he determined to stay and assault the place. This miserable vacillation was ended by the arrival of the Earl of Holland on the 27th of October, with fifteen hundred men; and the La Rochelle folk sending eight hundred more, it was resolved to make a general assault on the place. On the 6th of November this assault began, but the cannonade produced no effect on the adamantine works and solid walls of the fort; the slaughter of the troops on all sides was terrible, and the attempt was abandoned. Buckingham then wished himself safe on board his fleet; but unfortunately for him and his army, Marshal Schomberg had now posted himself with a strong force on the island between him and his vessels. He had occupied and garrisoned Fort la Prée, which Buckingham had so imprudently left in his rear, and compelled him now to defile his army along a narrow causeway across the marshes, connecting the small island of Oie with that of Rhé. Nothing could demonstrate more forcibly the utter incompetence of Buckingham for military command than thus suffering the enemy to land and lodge in the line of his retreat. Schomberg now attacked the defiling troops in the rear with his ordnance, and the cavalry. The cavalry was thrown into confusion, and the pressure and disorder on the causeway became frightful; the artillery played upon them with dreadful effect, and numbers were pushed off into the bordering bogs and salt pits and suffocated. The destruction soon amounted to twelve hundred men, and twenty pairs of colours were taken. There was no want of bravery exhibited by either Buckingham or his men. Courage, it has been well said, was the sole qualification for a general which he possessed; he was the last to leave the beach; and the men once off the causeway, turned resolutely and offered battle to Schomberg. But that prudent general was satisfied to let them go away, which they prepared to do, to the consternation of the people of La Rochelle, who had risen on the strength of their promises, and were now exposed to a formidable army under the command of Gaston, Duke of Orleans, and Schomberg.

A really good general, though he had suffered serious loss, would still have thrown himself into La Rochelle and, with the sea kept open by his fleet for supplies, might have done signal service in defence of the place. But Buckingham was no such general. He determined to withdraw, contemplating another enterprise equally impossible to him as the taking of the citadel of St. Martin. He had an idea of the glory and popularity of recovering Calais, and communicated this notable project to the king. Charles was charmed with the project, and as he had assured Buckingham that he had done wonders, and almost impossibilities on the island of Rhé, so he anticipated an equally splendid result: this in any other man, except Charles, would have looked like bitter irony. In the eyes of the more sensible officers of the fleet and army, the notion of attempting the surprise of Calais with a reduced and defeated force, and under such a general, was scouted as madness. Buckingham turned the prows of his fleet homewards, and arrived towards the end of November. The fleet and army were indignant at the disgraceful management of the campaign; the people at home were equally so at the waste of public money, and the ruin of national honour; but Charles received Buckingham with undiminished affection, and took to himself the blame of the failure of the expedition, because he had not been able to send sufficient reinforcements and provisions. But he speedily received an impressive reminder of the consequences of this scandalously managed attempt. The people of La Rochelle sent over envoys to represent to him their condition, in consequence of listening to his promises; the French were beleaguering their town, and the most terrible fate awaited them if they were thus deceived and abandoned. Charles gave them comfortable words, and entered into a solemn engagement to stand by them so long as their forts could resist the enemy, and to make no peace without the guarantee of all their ancient liberties.

But how were these grandiloquent words to be redeemed? He had exhausted all the resources of his arbitrary exactions, and had incurred an additional amount of unpopularity by seizing and imprisoning numbers of those who refused to submit to a forced loan; and when they demanded a fair hearing through the exercise of the _Habeas corpus_, they were told that the king's command superseded that. The Crown lawyers, in fact, vaunted the royal will as the supreme law, whilst Selden, Coke, and the constitutional lawyers referred them to Magna Charta, which had been thirty times confirmed by the kings, and thus aroused a wonderful feeling of popular right in the kingdom.

Whilst such was the state of public feeling, the usual pressure for money rendered it necessary to adopt some means of raising it. Besides the requirements of the home government, the proposed aid to the people of La Rochelle made immediate funds necessary. To attempt extorting supplies by the modes which had so exasperated the public, was a course which all reasonable men regarded with repugnance and apprehension. Charles himself would have braved any danger rather than that of meeting Parliament, with all its remonstrances and demands of redress of public grievances; but his Council urged him to make another trial of the Commons, and he consented. The writs were issued on the 29th of January, 1628, for the assembling of Parliament on the 17th of March. Yet in the course of that very week the king proceeded to repeat the conduct which Parliament had so strongly condemned, and which must render its meeting the more formidable. He required one hundred and seventy-three thousand four hundred and eleven pounds for the outfit of the expedition to La Rochelle, and instead of waiting for a grant from Parliament, he ordered the money to be raised by a Commission from the counties, and that within three weeks. With that irritating habit which he had inherited from his father, he added a menace, saying that if they paid this tax cheerfully, he would meet his Parliament; if not, "he would think of some more speedy way."

Conduct so restless and insulting on the very eve of the opening of Parliament raised the wildest ferment in the public: the Commissioners shrank in terror from their task, and Charles hastened to revoke the Commission, saying that "he would rely on the love of his people in Parliament." This was on the 16th of February, but like Pharaoh, Charles repented himself of his momentary concession, and on the 28th he issued an order to raise the money which the counties had refused, by a duty on merchandise. The merchants were, however, not a whit more willing to submit to an illegal imposition, nor more timid than the counties. The ministers trembled before the storm, and anticipated certain impeachment; the judges pronounced the duty illegal, and once more Charles recalled his order.

What rendered the public more sensitive to these acts of royal licence was, that a number of foreign troops were about to be brought into the kingdom, on the plea of employing them against France, but which the people saw might be turned against themselves or their representatives. They were, therefore, worked up to a pitch of extreme excitement, and bestirred themselves to send up to the House of Commons a body of such men as should not be readily intimidated. Never before had Parliament assembled under such favourable circumstances. Daring as had been the king's assaults on the public liberties, this had only served to rouse the nation to a resolute resolve to withstand his contempt of Magna Charta at all hazards. Westminster elected one Bradshaw, a brewer, and Maurice, a grocer. Huntingdon sent up a far more remarkable man, one Oliver Cromwell, the first time that he had been returned to Parliament by any place. There was a general enthusiasm to turn out all such members as had been inert, indifferent, or ready to betray their trusts out of terror or a leaning towards the Court. When the members assembled the House was crowded; there were four hundred such men as had rarely sat in any English Parliament before. Both county and town had selected such brave, patriotic, and substantial freeholders, merchants, and traders, as made sycophants and time-servers tremble. They were no longer the timid Commons who had formerly scarcely dared to look the lords or even the knights in the face; they were well aware of their power, and in wealth itself they were said to be three times superior to the House of Peers. In running his eye over them, a spectator would see such men as Cromwell, Hampden, Selden, Pym, Hollis, Eliot, Dudley Digges, Coke, Wentworth (soon to apostatise), and others, with intellects illumined by the study of the orators, lawgivers, and philosophers of republican Greece, animated with the great principles of Christianity, and with resolutions like iron. Many of these men had been attended to London by trains of their neighbours, sturdy freeholders and substantial shopkeepers, more numerous than the retinues of any lords, such was the intense expectation of what might ensue, and the prompt resolve to stand by their representatives. And they were not deceived, for this third Parliament of Charles I. marked itself out as one of the grand land-marks of English history.

The king was conscious that if he hoped to gain his chief object from them--money--he must curb his haughty temper and assume a conciliating manner. He therefore, just before the opening of the Session, liberated seventy-eight gentlemen who had been imprisoned for refusing to pay the forced loan; he let the Earl of Bristol out of the Tower, though he lay under an impeachment for high treason; accorded the same favour to Bishop Williams, whom Buckingham had caused to be lodged there; and restored Archbishop Abbot, who had been suspended for refusing to license Sibthorpe's base sermon. But when he had made these concessions to popular opinion, Charles could not command his inveterate habit of threatening, and so spoilt all. In his opening speech he said:--"I have called you together, judging a Parliament to be the ancient, speediest, and best way to give such supply as to secure ourselves and save our friends from imminent ruin. Every man must now do according to his conscience; wherefore, if you, which God forbid, should not do your duties in contributing what this State at this time needs, I must, in discharge of my conscience, use those other means which God hath put into my hands, to save that which the follies of other men may otherwise hazard to lose. Take not this as threatening--I scorn to threaten any but my equals--but as an admonition from him that, both out of nature and duty, hath most care of your preservation and properties."

This was followed by an equally impolitic speech from the Lord Keeper Coventry, who informed the Commons that the king had come to Parliament, not because it was at all necessary, not because he was destitute of other means, but because it was more agreeable to the goodness of his most gracious disposition. And then he unwisely enough added, "If this be deferred, necessity and the sword may make way for others. Remember his majesty's admonition; I say, remember it."

Surely if the veriest novices in government had been set to talk to Parliament, they could not have done it in a more insane, blundering style. If the Commons had had as little tact as the king and his minister, there would have been hard words hurled back again, and the Parliament would have not been many days ere it ceased to exist. But the Commons had men as profound as these were shallow. They took all patiently, and set about quietly to determine on the question of Supplies. They came to the resolution to offer ample ones--no less than five subsidies, the whole to be paid within one year--but they tagged this simple condition to them, that the king should give them a guarantee against any further invasion of their rights.

As we have already stated, during the past year many gentlemen had been imprisoned for refusing to pay the demands of the king made without sanction of Parliament. Five of them had been, at their own request, brought before the King's Bench by writ of _Habeas corpus_, and their counsel demanded that, as they were charged with no particular offence, but merely committed at the particular command of the king, they should be discharged or admitted to bail; but both were refused. The question was now discussed by the House, and it was resolved that no subsidy should pass without a remedy granted against this royal licence. "It will in us be wrong done to ourselves," said Sir Francis Seymour, "to our posterity, to our consciences, if we forego this just claim and pretension."

"We must vindicate what?" demanded Wentworth; "new things? No; our ancient, legal, and vital liberties, by enforcing the laws enacted by our ancestors; by setting such a stamp upon them that no licentious spirit shall dare henceforth to invade them." In the repeated debates which followed, Sir Edward Coke particularly distinguished himself, old as he was, by his powerful and undaunted speeches. He called upon the members to stand by the ancient laws, and was seconded by other members, who narrated the breaking of those laws by the abuses of raising money by loans, by benevolences, and privy seals; by billeting soldiers, by imprisonment of men for refusing these illegal demands, and by withholding from them the benefit of _Habeas corpus_. In vain were the speakers warned by the Court party to beware of distrusting the king, who had been driven to these measures by necessity, and by others, who declared that such was the king's goodness that it was next only to that of God. But Coke cried out, "Let us work whilst we have time! I am absolutely for giving supply to his majesty, but yet with some caution. Let us not flatter ourselves. Who will give subsidies if the king may impose what he will? I know he is a religious king, free from personal vices, but he deals with other men's hands, and sees with other men's eyes."

This was approaching the subject of the favourite, which even the boldest were afraid of touching, but which Coke soon after entered upon plainly, and with all courage.

On the 8th of May the House passed the four following resolutions, without a dissentient voice even from the courtiers--1st, That no freeman ought to be restrained or imprisoned, unless some lawful cause of such restraint or imprisonment be expressed; 2nd, That the writ of _Habeas Corpus_ ought to be granted to every man imprisoned or restrained, though it be at the command of the king or Privy Council, if he pray for the same; 3rd, That when the return expresses no cause of commitment or restraint, the party ought to be delivered or bailed; 4th, That it is the ancient and undoubted right of every free man, that he hath a full and absolute property in his goods and estates, and that no tax, loan, or benevolence ought to be levied by the king or his ministers, without common consent by Act of Parliament.

It was clear, from these resolutions, that unless Charles chose to forego his illegal practices of raising money without consent of Parliament, and of imprisoning subjects without any warrant but his own will, he must abandon all idea of the five subsidies; but his necessities were too great, and the difficulties in the way of continuing to plunder people at his pleasure too formidable to allow him lightly to give up the tempting offer. The Lords were less determined than the Commons, and this gave him some encouragement. The matter was argued in the Commons on his behalf by the Attorney-General and the King's Counsel, but they found the leading members of the House too strong in their knowledge of constitutional law to be moved from their grand propositions. In the course of the debate the interference of Buckingham was felt, and the brave Sir John Eliot did not let that pass without criticism. "I know not," he said, "by what fatality or importunity it has crept in, but I observe in the close of Mr. Secretary's relation, mention made of _another_ in addition to his majesty, and that which hath been formerly a matter of complaint, I find here still--a mixture with his majesty, not only in business, but in name. Let me beseech you, sir, let no man hereafter within these walls take this boldness to introduce it."

On the 28th of May the Commons presented to his majesty their celebrated Petition of Right; a document destined to become celebrated, a confirmation of Magna Charta, and the origin of the Bill of Rights secured in 1688, on which rests all the fabric of our present liberties. This Petition was based on the four resolutions. It commenced by reminding the monarch of the great statutes passed by some of the most illustrious of his ancestors, which he had been so long and pertinaciously outraging; that the statute _De Tallagio non concedendo_, made in the reign of Edward I., provided that no tallage nor aid could be levied by the king without consent of Parliament; that by another statute of the 25th year of Edward III., no person could be compelled to make any loan to the king without such sanction; such loans being against reason and the charters of the land. There could be no dispute here--the king stood palpably convicted, and had he acted in ignorance, could do so no longer. It then went on: "And by other laws of this realm, it is provided that none shall be charged by any charge or imposition called a benevolence, nor by such like charge; by which statutes before mentioned, and the other good laws and statutes of the realm, your subjects have inherited this freedom, that they should not be compelled to contribute to any tax, tallage, aid, or other like charge, not set by common consent in Parliament: yet, nevertheless, of late, divers commissions, directed to sundry commissioners, in several counties, with instructions, have issued, by pretext whereof your people have been in divers places assembled, and required to lend certain sums of money unto your majesty; and many of them, upon their refusal to do so, have had an unlawful oath administered unto them, not warrantable by the laws and statutes of this realm, and have been constrained to become bound to make appearance and give attendance before your Privy Council in other places; and others of them have therefore been imprisoned, confined, and sundry other ways molested and disquieted; and divers other charges have been laid and levied upon your people in several counties, by lords-lieutenant, commissioners for musters, justices of peace, and others, by command or direction from your majesty or your Privy Council, against the laws and free customs of this realm."

The Petition next set forth that divers persons refusing to pay these impositions had been imprisoned without cause shown, and on being brought up by _Habeas Corpus_ to have their cause examined, had been sent back to prison without such fair trial and examination. From this it proceeded to the fact that numbers of soldiers had been billeted in private houses, contrary to the law, and persons tried by martial law in cases where they were only amenable to the common law of the land; and moreover, officers and ministers of the king had screened soldiers and sailors who had committed robberies, murders, and other felonies, on the plea that they were only responsible to military tribunals. All these breaches of the statutes, the Petition prayed the king to cause to cease, as being contrary to the rights and liberties of the subject, as secured by the laws of the land.

The Petition was so clear, and the statutes quoted were so undeniable, that Charles was puzzled what to do. To refuse the prayer of the Commons was to forfeit the five tempting subsidies; to admit it simply and fully was to confess that he had hitherto been altogether wrong, and to leave himself no loop-hole of excuse for the future. Instead, therefore, of adopting the established form of saying, in the old Norman words, "_Soit droit fait comme il est désiré_," he wrote at the foot of the petition this loose and most absurd assent--"The king willeth that right be done according to the laws and customs of the realm; and that the statutes be put in due execution, that his subjects may have no cause to complain of any wrongs or oppressions, contrary to their just rights and liberties, to the preservation whereof he holds himself in conscience as well obliged as of his own prerogative."

This left the matter precisely where it was, for the king had always contended that he did nothing but what was warranted by his prerogative. The House felt this, and at once expressed their grievous disappointment. To add to their chagrin, Charles sent a message to them, informing them that he should dissolve Parliament on the 11th of June, it now being the 5th. A deep and melancholy silence pervaded the House, which locked the doors to prevent interruption, and debated the matter in all earnestness. A second message from his majesty, commanding them not to cast or lay aspersions on any minister of his majesty, added greatly to the concern of the House. On the day but one before Sir John Eliot had urged the necessity of a "declaration" to his majesty, showing the decay and contempt of religion, and the insufficiency of his ministers, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster had styled Sir John's speech "strange language," and had declared that if Sir John went on, he would go out; upon which the House told him plainly to take himself off. This had brought down the king's second message. The debate went on amid tears and deep emotion from strong and long-practised men; as if they perceived that the great crisis of the nation was come, and foresaw the bloodshed and misery which were to follow if they stood firm to their knowledge of the right; the slavery and degradation of England if they did not.

Sir Robert Philips, interrupted by sobs and weeping, said:--"I perceive that towards God and towards man there is little hope, after our humble and careful endeavours, seeing our sins are many and so great. I consider my own infirmities, and if ever my passions were wrought upon, it is now. This message stirs me up, especially when I remember with what moderation we have proceeded." These earnest and religious men feared that God was hardening the heart of the king as he had done that of Pharaoh, in order to punish the nation for its backslidings and wickedness. "Our sins," said Sir John Eliot, "are so exceeding great, that unless we speedily turn to God, God will remove Himself farther from us. You know with what affection and integrity we have proceeded hitherto, to gain his majesty's heart; and, out of the necessity of our duty, were brought to that course we were in: I doubt a misrepresentation to his majesty hath drawn this mark of his displeasure upon us. I observe in the message, amongst other sad particulars, it is conceived that we were about to lay some aspersions upon the Government. Give me leave to protest that so clear were our intentions, that we desire only to vindicate these dishonours to our king and country. It is said also as if we cast some aspersions on his majesty's ministers; I am confident no minister, how dear soever, can----"

Eliot was interrupted by Sir John Finch, the Speaker, who had for some time been more and more sidling away to the favour of the king, starting up and exclaiming, "There is a command laid upon me, to interrupt any that shall go about to lay an aspersion on the ministers of State." This was a clear infringement of the privilege of Parliament, which the House was not disposed to pass by. Sir John, thus snubbed, sat down, and there remained a significant silence for some minutes. Then Sir Dudley Digges rose and said, "Unless we may speak of these things, let us arise, and begone, or sit still and do nothing." There was another deep silence, at length broken by Sir Nathaniel Rich, who said, "We must now speak, or for ever hold our peace. For us to be silent when king and kingdom are in this calamity, is not fit. The question is, whether we shall secure ourselves by our silence--yea or no? Let us go to the Lords and show our dangers, that we may then go to the king together with our representation thereof." Prynne, Coke, and others, spoke to the same effect, and Coke was so overwhelmed with his feelings, grown old as he was, at the Bar, on the Bench and in the House, that he was obliged to resume his seat.

The House resolved itself into a committee for more freedom of discussion, and put Mr. Whitly into the chair. Finch, the Speaker, begged leave, as he was quitting the chair, for half an hour's absence. The House knew very well that he only wanted to run off and tell the king what was going on, but they let him go, and away he bustled to Whitehall. The House then passed an order, declaring that no man should leave the House under penalty of being committed to the Tower. Then Mr. Kirton rose, and declaring that the king in himself was as good a prince as ever reigned, said "it was high time to find out the enemies of the Commonwealth, who had so prevailed with him, and then he doubted not but God would send them hearts, hands, and swords, to cut all their throats." He added that the Speaker to desire to leave the House as he had done, was unprecedented, and to his mind ominous. Sir Edward Coke once more endeavoured to say what he had not been able to say before, but which must be said, and none so proper as this veteran statesman to say it. "I now see," he observed, "that God has not accepted our humble and moderate carriages and fair proceedings; and I fear the reason is that we have not dealt sincerely with the king, and made a true representation of the causes of all these miseries. Let us take this to heart. In the time of Edward III. had Parliament any doubt as to naming men that misled the king? They accused John of Gaunt, the king's son, Lord Latimer, and Lord Neville, for misadvising the king; and they went to the Tower for it. And now, when there is such a downfall of the State, shall we hold our tongues? Why," continued he, "may we not name those who are the cause of all our evils?" And he added, "Let us palliate no longer; if we do, God will not prosper us. I think the Duke of Buckingham is the cause, and till the duke be informed thereof, we shall never go out with honour, nor sit with honour here. That man is the grievance of grievances! Let us set down the causes of all our disasters, and they will all reflect upon him. As to going to the Lords, that is not _via regia_; our liberties are now impeached; we are deeply concerned; it is not _via regia_, for the Lords are not participant with our liberties. It is not the king but the duke that saith, 'We require you not to meddle with state affairs, or the ministers thereof.' Did not his majesty, when prince, attend the Upper House in our prosecution of Lord Chancellor Bacon and the Lord Treasurer Middlesex?"

The secret was out; the word was spoken! The name at which Charles and the duke had trembled, lest it should come into discussion, was, in spite of threats and messages, named; and the naming, and the charging with all the disgraces and miseries of the nation, were received with sudden and general acclamation of "Yea! yea! 'Tis he! 'tis he!" The day was come that James had so solemnly warned both Charles and Buckingham of--when they should have their bellyful of impeachments; having, as Coke now reminded them, themselves set the ball rolling. Aldred, in the letter just quoted, says:--"As when one good hound recovers the scent, the rest come in with full cry, so one pursued it, and every one came home and laid the blame where he thought the fault was, on the Duke of Buckingham, to wit." The duke was speedily accused of treachery and incapacity, both as High Admiral and Commander-in-Chief. All the disgraceful failures, at Cadiz, at La Rochelle, on the Isle of Rhé, and even in Germany, were charged upon his evil counsels or worse management.

Selden proposed a declaration to his majesty under four heads, expressive of the dutiful devotion of the House, of the violation of the nation's liberties, of the intentions of the House, and of the interference of the duke to prevent inquiry. He declared that all this time they had been casting a mantle over the accusation made against Buckingham, and that it was time to revert to that. "At this moment," says Aldred, "as we were putting the question, the Speaker, having been, not half an hour, but three hours absent, and with the king, returned, bringing this message--that the House should then rise--being about eleven o'clock--adjourn till the morrow morning, and no committees to sit, or other business to go on in the interim."

The next day the House met, when Finch apologised for his absence, and his going to the king, declaring that he had communicated nothing but what was to the honour of the House; and wishing that his tongue might cleave to the roof of his mouth before he spoke a word to the disparagement of any member. He informed them that his majesty had no desire to fetter their deliberations, so that they did not interfere with his ministers, and added words of courtesy from the king. The Commons observed that they had no intention of charging anything on the king, but must insist on inquiring when necessary into the conduct of his ministers; and the words of Mr. Kirton being found fault with, which intimated a hope that all those found guilty might have their throats cut, the House resolved that "he had said nothing beyond the bounds of duty and allegiance, and that they all concurred with him therein."

On the following day they went into committee, and commenced their labours of inquiry into the proceedings of the executive. They examined Burlemachi, a foreign speculator, as to a commission which he was alleged to have, for engaging and bringing into this kingdom troops of German horse. He confessed to such warrant, and to having received thirty thousand pounds for this purpose; one thousand of these horse being, as he admitted, already raised and armed, and waiting their passage in Holland. "And the intention of bringing over these mercenaries," said one of the members, "is to cut our throats, or to keep us in obedience!" Another member declared that twelve of the commanders were already arrived, and had been seen in St. Paul's. The House next fell upon a new scheme of excise, which it was proposed to levy without consent of Parliament, and voted that any member who had any information regarding this new imposition and did not disclose it, was an enemy to the State, and no true Englishman.

The danger which was obviously approaching Buckingham in the proceedings of this Committee alarmed the king; and the same day, the 7th of June, he commanded the Commons to meet him in the House of Lords, and then observing that he thought he had given a full and specific answer to their Petition of Right, but as they were not satisfied, he desired them to read the Petition again, and he would give them an answer which should satisfy them. Taking his seat on the throne, this was done, and he then ordered the former answer to be cut off, and the following, in the established form, to be inscribed--"Let right be done as is desired." "Now," he added, "I have performed my part; wherefore, if this Parliament have not a happy issue, the sin is yours. I am free of it."

Thus was passed the Petition of Right, the most important document since the acquirement of Magna Charta. The rejoicing for this conquest, this assurance of quieter days and secure firesides, sped through the City, and thence over the kingdom, and was everywhere demonstrated by acclamations, ringing of bells, and bonfires. On the 10th of June, three days afterwards, the king, as if pleased with this public expression of satisfaction, sent Sir Humphrey May to inform the House of Commons that he was graciously pleased that their Petition of Right, with his answer, should be recorded not only on the journals of Parliament, but in those of the courts of Westminster, and should, moreover, be printed for his honour and the content of the people. On the 12th the Commons showed their content by voting the king the five subsidies, and hastening to pass the Bill for five other subsidies granted by the clergy.

But the exultation over this great triumph did not prevent the Commons from pursuing their labours of inquiry into abuses. They obtained a judgment from the Lords against Dr. Mainwaring for his encouragement of kingly absolutism in his sermons, and censured Laud and Neale of Winchester, for licensing similar sermons; they then came to Buckingham himself, and voted a strong remonstrance against his undue influence and unconstitutional doings, which was presented by the Speaker to the king. The House felt itself highly aggrieved by a speech which the favourite was reported to have made at his own table--"Tush! it makes no matter what the Commons or Parliament doth; for without my leave and authority, they shall not be able to touch the hair of a dog." Buckingham protested that he had never uttered such words, and called upon the House of Lords to demand that the members of the Commons who had thus reported it should be called in to prove it; but the duke was forced to content himself with entering his protest on the journals of the Lords.