The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 - Thomas Babington Macaulay (novel books to read TXT) 📗

longer dared to show their faces in the streets, and were

scarcely safe within their own dwellings. Temporary provision was

made for the government: writs were issued for a general

election; and then that memorable Parliament, which had, in the

course of twenty eventful years, experienced every variety of

fortune, which had triumphed over its sovereign, which had been

enslaved and degraded by its servants, which had been twice

ejected and twice restored, solemnly decreed its own dissolution.


The result of the elections was such as might have been expected

from the temper of the nation. The new House of Commons

consisted, with few exceptions, of persons friendly to the royal

family. The Presbyterians formed the majority.


That there would be a restoration now seemed almost certain; but

whether there would be a peaceable restoration was matter of

painful doubt. The soldiers were in a gloomy and savage mood.

They hated the title of King. They hated the name of Stuart. They

hated Presbyterianism much, and Prelacy more. They saw with

bitter indignation that the close of their long domination was

approaching, and that a life of inglorious toil and penury was

before them. They attributed their ill fortune to the weakness of

some generals, and to the treason of others. One hour of their

beloved Oliver might even now restore the glory which had

departed. Betrayed, disunited, and left without any chief in whom

they could confide, they were yet to be dreaded. It was no light

thing to encounter the rage and despair of fifty thousand

fighting men, whose backs no enemy had ever seen. Monk, and those

with whom he acted, were well aware that the crisis was most

perilous. They employed every art to soothe and to divide the

discontented warriors. At the same time vigorous preparation was

made for a conflict. The army of Scotland, now quartered in

London, was kept in good humour by bribes, praises, and promises.

The wealthy citizens grudged nothing to a redcoat, and were

indeed so liberal of their best wine, that warlike saints were

sometimes seen in a condition not very honourable either to their

religious or to their military character. Some refractory

regiments Monk ventured to disband. In the mean time the greatest

exertions were made by the provisional government, with the

strenuous aid of the whole body of the gentry and magistracy, to

organise the militia. In every county the trainbands were held

ready to march; and this force cannot be estimated at less than a

hundred and twenty thousand men. In Hyde Park twenty thousand

citizens, well armed and accoutred, passed in review, and showed

a spirit which justified the hope that, in case of need, they

would fight manfully for their shops and firesides. The fleet was

heartily with the nation. It was a stirring time, a time of

anxiety, yet of hope. The prevailing opinion was that England

would be delivered, but not without a desperate and bloody

struggle, and that the class which had so long ruled by the sword

would perish by the sword.


Happily the dangers of a conflict were averted. There was indeed

one moment of extreme peril. Lambert escaped from his

confinement, and called his comrades to arms. The flame of civil

war was actually rekindled; but by prompt and vigorous exertion

it was trodden out before it had time to spread. The luckless

imitator of Cromwell was again a prisoner. The failure of his

enterprise damped the spirit of the soldiers; and they sullenly

resigned themselves to their fate.


The new Parliament, which, having been called without the royal

writ, is more accurately described as a Convention, met at

Westminster. The Lords repaired to the hall, from which they had,

during more than eleven years, been excluded by force. Both

Houses instantly invited the King to return to his country. He

was proclaimed with pomp never before known. A gallant fleet

convoyed him from Holland to the coast of Kent. When he landed,

the cliffs of Dover were covered by thousands of gazers, among

whom scarcely one could be found who was not weeping with

delight. The journey to London was a continued triumph. The whole

road from Rochester was bordered by booths and tents, and looked

like an interminable fair. Everywhere flags were flying, bells

and music sounding, wine and ale flowing in rivers to the health

of him whose return was the return of peace, of law, and of

freedom. But in the midst of the general joy, one spot presented

a dark and threatening aspect. On Blackheath the army was drawn

up to welcome the sovereign. He smiled, bowed, and extended his

hand graciously to the lips of the colonels and majors. But all

his courtesy was vain. The countenances of the soldiers were sad

and lowering; and had they given way to their feelings, the

festive pageant of which they reluctantly made a part would have

had a mournful and bloody end. But there was no concert among

them. Discord and defection had left them no confidence in their

chiefs or in each other. The whole array of the City of London

was under arms. Numerous companies of militia had assembled from

various parts of the realm, under the command of loyal noblemen

and gentlemen, to welcome the King. That great day closed in

peace; and the restored wanderer reposed safe in the palace of

his ancestors.


CHAPTER II.


THE history of England, during the seventeenth century, is the

history of the transformation of a limited monarchy, constituted

after the fashion of the middle ages, into a limited monarchy

suited to that more advanced state of society in which the public

charges can no longer be borne by the estates of the crown, and

in which the public defence can no longer be entrusted to a

feudal militia. We have seen that the politicians who were at the

head of the Long Parliament made, in 1642, a great effort to

accomplish this change by transferring, directly and formally, to

the estates of the realm the choice of ministers, the command of

the army, and the superintendence of the whole executive

administration. This scheme was, perhaps, the best that could

then be contrived: but it was completely disconcerted by the

course which the civil war took. The Houses triumphed, it is

true; but not till after such a struggle as made it necessary for

them to call into existence a power which they could not control,

and which soon began to domineer over all orders and all parties:

During a few years, the evils inseparable from military

government were, in some degree, mitigated by the wisdom and

magnanimity of the great man who held the supreme command. But,

when the sword, which he had wielded, with energy indeed, but

with energy always guided by good sense and generally tempered by

good nature, had passed to captains who possessed neither his

abilities nor his virtues. it seemed too probable that order and

liberty would perish in one ignominious ruin.


That ruin was happily averted. It has been too much the practice

of writers zealous for freedom to represent the Restoration as a

disastrous event, and to condemn the folly or baseness of that

Convention, which recalled the royal family without exacting new

securities against maladministration. Those who hold this

language do not comprehend the real nature of the crisis which

followed the deposition of Richard Cromwell. England was in

imminent danger of falling under the tyranny of a succession of

small men raised up and pulled down by military caprice. To

deliver the country from the domination of the soldiers was the

first object of every enlightened patriot: but it was an object

which, while the soldiers were united, the most sanguine could

scarcely expect to attain. On a sudden a gleam of hope appeared.

General was opposed to general, army to army. On the use which

might be made of one auspicious moment depended the future

destiny of the nation. Our ancestors used that moment well. They

forgot old injuries, waved petty scruples, adjourned to a more

convenient season all dispute about the reforms which our

institutions needed, and stood together, Cavaliers and

Roundheads, Episcopalians and Presbyterians, in firm union, for

the old laws of the land against military despotism. The exact

partition of power among King, Lords, and Commons might well be

postponed till it had been decided whether England should be

governed by King, Lords, and Commons, or by cuirassiers and

pikemen. Had the statesmen of the Convention taken a different

course, had they held long debates on the principles of

government, had they drawn up a new constitution and sent it to

Charles, had conferences been opened, had couriers been passing

and repassing during some weeks between Westminster and the

Netherlands, with projects and counterprojects, replies by Hyde

and rejoinders by Prynne, the coalition on which the public

safety depended would have been dissolved: the Presbyterians and

Royalists would certainly have quarrelled: the military factions

might possibly have been reconciled; and the misjudging friends

of liberty might long have regretted, under a rule worse than

that of the worst Stuart, the golden opportunity which had been

suffered to escape.


The old civil polity was, therefore, by the general consent of

both the great parties, reestablished. It was again exactly what

it had been when Charles the First, eighteen years before,

withdrew from his capital. All those acts of the Long Parliament

which had received the royal assent were admitted to be still in

full force. One fresh concession, a concession in which the

Cavaliers were even more deeply interested than the Roundheads,

was easily obtained from the restored King. The military tenure

of land had been originally created as a means of national

defence. But in the course of ages whatever was useful in the

institution had disappeared; and nothing was left but ceremonies

and grievances. A landed proprietor who held an estate under the

crown by knight service,-and it was thus that most of the soil

of England was held,-had to pay a large fine on coming to his

property. He could not alienate one acre without purchasing a

license. When he died, if his domains descended to an infant, the

sovereign was guardian, and was not only entitled to great part

of the rents during the minority, but could require the ward,

under heavy penalties, to marry any person of suitable rank. The

chief bait which attracted a needy sycophant to the court was the

hope of obtaining as the reward of servility and flattery, a

royal letter to an heiress. These abuses had perished with the

monarchy. That they should not revive with it was the wish of

every landed gentleman in the kingdom. They were, therefore,

solemnly abolished by statute; and no relic of the ancient

tenures in chivalry was allowed to remain except those honorary