No More Learning

Twice he was subjected to frightful torments; but not a word
inculpating himself or any other person could be wrung out of him. Some
councillors left the board in horror. But the pious Crawford presided.
He was not much troubled with the weakness of compassion where an
Amalekite was concerned, and forced the executioner to hammer in wedge
after wedge between the knees of the prisoner till the pain was as
great as the human frame can sustain without dissolution. Payne was
then carried to the Castle of Edinburgh, where he long remained, utterly
forgotten, as he touchingly complained, by those for whose sake he had
endured more than the bitterness of death. Yet no ingratitude could damp
the ardour of his fanatical loyalty; and he continued, year after year,
in his cell, to plan insurrections and invasions, [781]

Before Payne's arrest the Estates had been adjourned after a Session
as important as any that had ever been held in Scotland. The nation
generally acquiesced in the new ecclesiastical constitution. The
indifferent, a large portion of every society, were glad that the
anarchy was over, and conformed to the Presbyterian Church as they had
conformed to the Episcopal Church. To the moderate Presbyterians the
settlement which had been made was on the whole satisfactory. Most of
the strict Presbyterians brought themselves to accept it under protest,
as a large instalment of what was due. They missed indeed what they
considered as the perfect beauty and symmetry of that Church which had,
forty years before, been the glory of Scotland. But, though the second
temple was not equal to the first, the chosen people might well rejoice
to think that they were, after a long captivity in Babylon, suffered to
rebuild, though imperfectly, the House of God on the old foundations;
nor could it misbecome them to feel for the latitudinarian William a
grateful affection such as the restored Jews had felt for the heathen
Cyrus.

There were however two parties which regarded the settlement of 1690
with implacable detestation. Those Scotchmen who were Episcopalians on
conviction and with fervour appear to have been few; but among them were
some persons superior, not perhaps in natural parts, but in learning,
in taste, and in the art of composition, to the theologians of the
sect which had now become dominant. It might not have been safe for the
ejected Curates and Professors to give vent in their own country to the
anger which they felt. But the English press was open to them; and they
were sure of the approbation of a large part of the English people.
During several years they continued to torment their enemies and to
amuse the public with a succession of ingenious and spirited pamphlets.
In some of these works the hardships suffered by the rabbled priests of
the western shires are set forth with a skill which irresistibly moves
pity and indignation. In others, the cruelty with which the Covenanters
had been treated during the reigns of the last two kings of the House
of Stuart is extenuated by every artifice of sophistry. There is much
joking on the bad Latin which some Presbyterian teachers had uttered
while seated in academic chairs lately occupied by great scholars. Much
was said about the ignorant contempt which the victorious barbarians
professed for science and literature. They were accused of
anathematizing the modern systems of natural philosophy as damnable
heresies, of condemning geometry as a souldestroying pursuit, of
discouraging even the study of those tongues in which the sacred books
were written. Learning, it was said, would soon be extinct in Scotland.
The Universities, under their new rulers, were languishing and must soon
perish. The booksellers had been half ruined: they found that the whole
profit of their business would not pay the rent of their shops, and were
preparing to emigrate to some country where letters were held in esteem
by those whose office was to instruct the public. Among the ministers
of religion no purchaser of books was left. The Episcopalian divine was
glad to sell for a morsel of bread whatever part of his library had
not been torn to pieces or burned by the Christmas mobs; and the only
library of a Presbyterian divine consisted of an explanation of the
Apocalypse and a commentary on the Song of Songs, [782] The pulpit
oratory of the triumphant party was an inexhaustible subject of mirth.
One little volume, entitled The Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence Displayed,
had an immense success in the South among both High Churchmen and
scoffers, and is not yet quite forgotten. It was indeed a book well
fitted to lie on the hall table of a Squire whose religion consisted in
hating extemporaneous prayer and nasal psalmody. On a rainy day, when
it was impossible to hunt or shoot, neither the card table nor the
backgammon board would have been, in the intervals of the flagon and the
pasty, so agreeable a resource. Nowhere else, perhaps, can be found, in
so small a compass, so large a collection of ludicrous quotations and
anecdotes. Some grave men, however, who bore no love to the Calvinistic
doctrine or discipline, shook their heads over this lively jest book,
and hinted their opinion that the writer, while holding up to derision
the absurd rhetoric by which coarseminded and ignorant men tried to
illustrate dark questions of theology and to excite devotional feeling
among the populace, had sometimes forgotten the reverence due to sacred
things. The effect which tracts of this sort produced on the public mind
of England could not be fully discerned, while England and Scotland were
independent of each other, but manifested itself, very soon after the
union of the kingdoms, in a way which we still have reason, and which
our posterity will probably long have reason to lament.

The extreme Presbyterians were as much out of humour as the extreme
Prelatists, and were as little inclined as the extreme Prelatists to
take the oath of allegiance to William and Mary. Indeed, though the
Jacobite nonjuror and the Cameronian nonjuror were diametrically opposed
to each other in opinion, though they regarded each other with mortal
aversion, though neither of them would have had any scruple about
persecuting the other, they had much in common. They were perhaps the
two most remarkable specimens that the world could show of perverse
absurdity. Each of them considered his darling form of ecclesiastical
polity, not as a means but as an end, as the one thing needful, as the
quintessence of the Christian religion. Each of them childishly fancied
that he had found a theory of civil government in his Bible. Neither
shrank from the frightful consequences to which his theory led. To all
objections both had one answer,--Thus saith the Lord. Both agreed in
boasting that the arguments which to atheistical politicians seemed
unanswerable presented no difficulty to the Saint. It might be perfectly
true that, by relaxing the rigour of his principles, he might save his
country from slavery, anarchy, universal ruin. But his business was not
to save his country, but to save his soul. He obeyed the commands of
God, and left the event to God. One of the two fanatical sects held
that, to the end of time, the nation would be bound to obey the heir of
the Stuarts; the other held that, to the end of time, the nation would
be bound by the Solemn League and Covenant; and thus both agreed in
regarding the new Sovereigns as usurpers.

The Presbyterian nonjurors have scarcely been heard of out of Scotland;
and perhaps it may not now be generally known, even in Scotland, how
long they continued to form a distinct class. They held that their
country was under a precontract to the Most High, and could never,
while the world lasted, enter into any engagement inconsistent with that
precontract. An Erastian, a latitudinarian, a man who knelt to receive
the bread and wine from the hands of bishops, and who bore, though
not very patiently, to hear anthems chaunted by choristers in white
vestments, could not be King of a covenanted kingdom. William had
moreover forfeited all claim to the crown by committing that sin for
which, in the old time, a dynasty preternaturally appointed had been
preternaturally deposed. He had connived at the escape of his father in
law, that idolater, that murderer, that man of Belial, who ought to
have been hewn in pieces before the Lord, like Agag. Nay, the crime of
William had exceeded that of Saul. Saul had spared only one Amalekite,
and had smitten the rest. What Amalekite had William smitten? The pure
Church had been twenty-eight years under persecution. Her children had
been imprisoned, transported, branded, shot, hanged, drowned, tortured.
And yet he who called himself her deliverer had not suffered her to
see her desire upon her enemies, [783] The bloody Claverhouse had been
graciously received at Saint James's. The bloody Mackenzie had found a
secure and luxurious retreat among the malignants of Oxford. The younger
Dalrymple who had prosecuted the Saints, the elder Dalrymple who had
sate in judgment on the Saints, were great and powerful. It was said
by careless Gallios, that there was no choice but between William and
James, and that it was wisdom to choose the less of two evils. Such was
indeed the wisdom of this world. But the wisdom which was from above
taught us that of two things, both of which were evil in the sight of
God, we should choose neither. As soon as James was restored, it would
be a duty to disown and withstand him. The present duty was to disown
and withstand his son in law. Nothing must be said, nothing must be done
that could be construed into a recognition of the authority of the man
from Holland. The godly must pay no duties to him, must hold no offices
under him, must receive no wages from him, must sign no instruments
in which he was styled King. Anne succeeded William; and Anne was
designated, by those who called themselves the remnant of the true
Church, as the pretended Queen, the wicked woman, the Jezebel. George
the First succeeded Anne; and George the First was the pretended King,
the German Beast, [784] George the Second succeeded George the First;
George the Second too was a pretended King, and was accused of having
outdone the wickedness of his wicked predecessors by passing a law
in defiance of that divine law which ordains that no witch shall be
suffered to live, [785] George the Third succeeded George the Second;
and still these men continued, with unabated stedfastness, though in
language less ferocious than before, to disclaim all allegiance to an
uncovenanted Sovereign, [786] So late as the year 1806, they were still
bearing their public testimony against the sin of owning his government
by paying taxes, by taking out excise licenses, by joining the
volunteers, or by labouring on public works, [787] The number of these
zealots went on diminishing till at length they were so thinly scattered
over Scotland that they were nowhere numerous enough to have a meeting
house, and were known by the name of the Nonhearers. They, however,
still assembled and prayed in private dwellings, and still persisted in
considering themselves as the chosen generation, the royal priesthood,
the holy nation, the peculiar people, which, amidst the common
degeneracy, alone preserved the faith of a better age. It is by no means
improbable that this superstition, the most irrational and the most
unsocial into which Protestant Christianity has ever been corrupted
by human prejudices and passions, may still linger in a few obscure
farmhouses.

The King was but half satisfied with the manner in which the
ecclesiastical polity of Scotland had been settled. He thought that the
Episcopalians had been hardly used; and he apprehended that they might
be still more hardly used when the new system was fully organized. He
had been very desirous that the Act which established the Presbyterian
Church should be accompanied by an Act allowing persons who were not
members of that Church to hold their own religious assemblies freely;
and he had particularly directed Melville to look to this, [788] But
some popular preachers harangued so vehemently at Edinburgh against
liberty of conscience, which they called the mystery of iniquity, that
Melville did not venture to obey his master's instructions. A draught of
a Toleration Act was offered to the Parliament by a private member, but
was coldly received and suffered to drop, [789]

William, however, was fully determined to prevent the dominant sect from
indulging in the luxury of persecution; and he took an early opportunity
of announcing his determination. The first General Assembly of the
newly established Church met soon after his return from Ireland. It was
necessary that he should appoint a Commissioner and send a letter. Some
zealous Presbyterians hoped that Crawford would be the Commissioner;
and the ministers of Edinburgh drew up a paper in which they very
intelligibly hinted that this was their wish. William, however, selected
Lord Carmichael, a nobleman distinguished by good sense, humanity and
moderation, [790] The royal letter to the Assembly was eminently wise in
substance and impressive in language. "We expect," the King wrote, "that
your management shall be such that we may have no reason to repent
of what we have done. We never could be of the mind that violence was
suited to the advancing of true religion; nor do we intend that our
authority shall ever be a tool to the irregular passions of any party.
Moderation is what religion enjoins, what neighbouring Churches expect
from you, and what we recommend to you. " The Sixty and their associates
would probably have been glad to reply in language resembling that
which, as some of them could well remember, had been held by the clergy
to Charles the Second during his residence in Scotland. But they had
just been informed that there was in England a strong feeling in favour
of the rabbled curates, and that it would, at such a conjuncture, be
madness in the body which represented the Presbyterian Church to quarrel
with the King, [791] The Assembly therefore returned a grateful and
respectful answer to the royal letter, and assured His Majesty that they
had suffered too much from oppression ever to be oppressors, [792]

Meanwhile the troops all over the Continent were going into winter
quarters. The campaign had everywhere been indecisive. The victory
gained by Luxemburg at Fleurus had produced no important effect. On the
Upper Rhine great armies had eyed each other, month after month, without
exchanging a blow. In Catalonia a few small forts had been taken. In
the cast of Europe the Turks had been successful on some points, the
Christians on other points; and the termination of the contest seemed to
be as remote as ever. The coalition had in the course of the year lost
one valuable member and gained another. The Duke of Lorraine, the ablest
captain in the Imperial service, was no more. He had died, as he had
lived, an exile and a wanderer, and had bequeathed to his children
nothing but his name and his rights. It was popularly said that the
confederacy could better have spared thirty thousand soldiers than such
a general. But scarcely had the allied Courts gone into mourning for him
when they were consoled by learning that another prince, superior to him
in power, and not inferior to him in capacity or courage, had joined the
league against France.

This was Victor Amadeus Duke of Savoy. He was a young man; but he was
already versed in those arts for which the statesmen of Italy had,
ever since the thirteenth century, been celebrated, those arts by which
Castruccio Castracani and Francis Sforza rose to greatness, and which
Machiavel reduced to a system. No sovereign in modern Europe has, with
so small a principality, exercised so great an influence during so long
a period. He had for a time submitted, with a show of cheerfulness, but
with secret reluctance and resentment, to the French ascendency. When
the war broke out, he professed neutrality, but entered into private
negotiations with the House of Austria. He would probably have continued
to dissemble till he found some opportunity of striking an unexpected
blow, had not his crafty schemes been disconcerted by the decision and
vigour of Lewis. A French army commanded by Catinat, an officer of great
skill and valour, marched into Piedmont. The Duke was informed that his
conduct had excited suspicions which he could remove only by admitting
foreign garrisons into Turin and Vercelli. He found that he must
be either the slave or the open enemy of his powerful and imperious
neighbour. His choice was soon made; and a war began which, during seven
years, found employment for some of the best generals and best troops
of Lewis. An Envoy Extraordinary from Savoy went to the Hague, proceeded
thence to London, presented his credentials in the Banqueting House, and
addressed to William a speech which was speedily translated into many
languages and read in every part of Europe. The orator congratulated the
King on the success of that great enterprise which had restored England
to her ancient place among the nations, and had broken the chains of
Europe. "That my master," he said, "can now at length venture to express
feelings which have been long concealed in the recesses of his heart,
is part of the debt which he owes to Your Majesty. You have inspired him
with the hope of freedom after so many years of bondage. " [793]

It had been determined that, during the approaching winter a Congress
of all the powers hostile to France should be held at the Hague. William
was impatient to proceed thither. But it was necessary that he should
first hold a Session of Parliament. Early in October the Houses
reassembled at Westminster. The members had generally come up in
good humour. Those Tories whom it was possible to conciliate had been
conciliated by the Act of Grace, and by the large share which they had
obtained of the favours of the Crown. Those Whigs who were capable of
learning had learned much from the lesson which William had given them,
and had ceased to expect that he would descend from the rank of a
King to that of a party leader. Both Whigs and Tories had, with few
exceptions, been alarmed by the prospect of a French invasion and
cheered by the news of the victory of the Boyne. The Sovereign who had
shed his blood for their nation and their religion stood at this moment
higher in public estimation than at any time since his accession. His
speech from the throne called forth the loud acclamations of Lords and
Commons, [794] Thanks were unanimously voted by both Houses to the King
for his achievements in Ireland, and to the Queen for the prudence
with which she had, during his absence, governed England, [795] Thus
commenced a Session distinguished among the Sessions of that reign by
harmony and tranquillity. No report of the debates has been preserved,
unless a long forgotten lampoon, in which some of the speeches made on
the first day are burlesqued in doggrel rhymes, may be called a report,
[796] The time of the Commons appears to have been chiefly occupied
in discussing questions arising out of the elections of the preceding
spring. The supplies necessary for the war, though large, were granted
with alacrity. The number of regular troops for the next year was
fixed at seventy thousand, of whom twelve thousand were to be horse or
dragoons. The charge of this army, the greatest that England had ever
maintained, amounted to about two million three hundred thousand pounds;
the charge of the navy to about eighteen hundred thousand pounds. The
charge of the ordnance was included in these sums, and was roughly
estimated at one eighth of the naval and one fifth of the military
expenditure, [797] The whole of the extraordinary aid granted to the
King exceeded four millions.

The Commons justly thought that the extraordinary liberality with
which they had provided for the public service entitled them to demand
extraordinary securities against waste and peculation. A bill was
brought in empowering nine Commissioners to examine and state the public
accounts. The nine were named in the bill, and were all members of the
Lower House. The Lords agreed to the bill without amendments; and the
King gave his assent, [798]

The debates on the Ways and Means occupied a considerable part of the
Session. It was resolved that sixteen hundred and fifty thousand pounds
should be raised by a direct monthly assessment on land. The excise
duties on ale and beer were doubled; and the import duties on raw silk,
linen, timber, glass, and some other articles, were increased, [799]
Thus far there was little difference of opinion. But soon the smooth
course of business was disturbed by a proposition which was much more
popular than just or humane. Taxes of unprecedented severity had been
imposed; and yet it might well be doubted whether these taxes would be
sufficient. Why, it was asked, should not the cost of the Irish war be
borne by the Irish insurgents? How those insurgents had acted in their
mock Parliament all the world knew; and nothing could be more reasonable
than to mete to them from their own measure. They ought to be treated
as they had treated the Saxon colony. Every acre which the Act of
Settlement had left them ought to be seized by the state for the purpose
of defraying that expense which their turbulence and perverseness had
made necessary. It is not strange that a plan which at once gratified
national animosity, and held out the hope of pecuniary relief, should
have been welcomed with eager delight. A bill was brought in which bore
but too much resemblance to some of the laws passed by the Jacobite
legislators of Dublin. By this bill it was provided that the property of
every person who had been in rebellion against the King and Queen since
the day on which they were proclaimed should be confiscated, and that
the proceeds should be applied to the support of the war. An exception
was made in favour of such Protestants as had merely submitted to
superior force; but to Papists no indulgence was shown. The royal
prerogative of clemency was limited. The King might indeed, if such were
his pleasure, spare the lives of his vanquished enemies; but he was not
to be permitted to save any part of their estates from the general doom.
He was not to have it in his power to grant a capitulation which should
secure to Irish Roman Catholics the enjoyment of their hereditary lands.
Nay, he was not to be allowed to keep faith with persons whom he had
already received to mercy, who had kissed his hand, and had heard from
his lips the promise of protection. An attempt was made to insert a
proviso in favour of Lord Dover. Dover, who, with all his faults, was
not without some English feelings, had, by defending the interests of
his native country at Dublin, made himself odious to both the Irish and
the French. After the battle of the Boyne his situation was deplorable.
Neither at Limerick nor at Saint Germains could he hope to be welcomed.
In his despair, he threw himself at William's feet, promised to live
peaceably, and was graciously assured that he had nothing to fear.
Though the royal word seemed to be pledged to this unfortunate man,
the Commons resolved, by a hundred and nineteen votes to a hundred
and twelve, that his property should not be exempted from the general
confiscation.

The bill went up to the Peers, but the Peers were not inclined to pass
it without considerable amendments; and such amendments there was
not time to make. Numerous heirs at law, reversioners, and creditors
implored the Upper House to introduce such provisoes as might secure the
innocent against all danger of being involved in the punishment of the
guilty. Some petitioners asked to be heard by counsel. The King had made
all his arrangements for a voyage to the Hague; and the day beyond which
he could not postpone his departure drew near. The bill was therefore,
happily for the honour of English legislation, consigned to that dark
repository in which the abortive statutes of many generations sleep a
sleep rarely disturbed by the historian or the antiquary, [800]

Another question, which slightly and but slightly discomposed the
tranquillity of this short session, arose out of the disastrous and
disgraceful battle of Beachy Head. Torrington had, immediately after
that battle, been sent to the Tower, and had ever since remained there.
A technical difficulty had arisen about the mode of bringing him to
trial. There was no Lord High Admiral; and whether the Commissioners of
the Admiralty were competent to execute martial law was a point which
to some jurists appeared not perfectly clear. The majority of the judges
held that the Commissioners were competent; but, for the purpose of
removing all doubt, a bill was brought into the Upper House; and to this
bill several Lords offered an opposition which seems to have been most
unreasonable. The proposed law, they said, was a retrospective penal
law, and therefore objectionable. If they used this argument in good
faith, they were ignorant of the very rudiments of the science of
legislation. To make a law for punishing that which, at the time when it
was done, was not punishable, is contrary to all sound principle. But
a law which merely alters the criminal procedure may with perfect
propriety be made applicable to past as well as to future offences. It
would have been the grossest injustice to give a retrospective operation
to the law which made slavetrading felony. But there was not the
smallest injustice in enacting that the Central Criminal Court
should try felonies committed long before that Court was in being. In
Torrington's case the substantive law continued to be what it had always
been. The definition of the crime, the amount of the penalty, remained
unaltered. The only change was in the form of procedure; and that change
the legislature was perfectly justified in making retrospectively.

It is indeed hardly possible to believe that some of those who opposed
the bill were duped by the fallacy of which they condescended to make
use. The feeling of caste was strong among the Lords. That one of
themselves should be tried for his life by a court composed of plebeians
seemed to them a degradation of their whole order. If their noble
brother had offended, articles of impeachment ought to be exhibited
against him: Westminster Hall ought to be fitted up: his peers ought
to meet in their robes, and to give in their verdict on their honour;
a Lord High Steward ought to pronounce the sentence and to break the
staff. There was an end of privilege if an Earl was to be doomed to
death by tarpaulins seated round a table in the cabin of a ship. These
feelings had so much influence that the bill passed the Upper House by a
majority of only two, [801] In the Lower House, where the dignities and
immunities of the nobility were regarded with no friendly feeling, there
was little difference of opinion. Torrington requested to be heard at
the bar, and spoke there at great length, but weakly and confusedly. He
boasted of his services, of his sacrifices, and of his wounds. He abused
the Dutch, the Board of Admiralty, and the Secretary of State. The bill,
however, went through all its stages without a division, [802]

Early in December Torrington was sent under a guard down the river to
Sheerness. There the Court Martial met on board of a frigate named the
Kent. The investigation lasted three days; and during those days the
ferment was great in London. Nothing was heard of on the exchange, in
the coffeehouses, nay even at the church doors, but Torrington. Parties
ran high; wagers to an immense amount were depending; rumours were
hourly arriving by land and water, and every rumour was exaggerated and
distorted by the way. From the day on which the news of the ignominious
battle arrived, down to the very eve of the trial, public opinion
had been very unfavourable to the prisoner. His name, we are told by
contemporary pamphleteers, was hardly ever mentioned without a curse.
But, when the crisis of his fate drew nigh, there was, as in our country
there often is, a reaction. All his merits, his courage, his good
nature, his firm adherence to the Protestant religion in the evil times,
were remembered. It was impossible to deny that he was sunk in sloth and
luxury, that he neglected the most important business for his pleasures,
and that he could not say No to a boon companion or to a mistress; but
for these faults excuses and soft names were found. His friends used
without scruple all the arts which could raise a national feeling in his
favour; and these arts were powerfully assisted by the intelligence that
the hatred which was felt towards him in Holland bad vented itself in
indignities to some of his countrymen. The cry was that a bold, jolly,
freehanded English gentleman, of whom the worst that could be said was
that he liked wine and women, was to be shot in order to gratify the
spite of the Dutch. What passed at the trial tended to confirm the
populace in this notion. Most of the witnesses against the prisoner were
Dutch officers. The Dutch real admiral, who took on himself the part of
prosecutor, forgot himself so far as to accuse the judges of partiality.
When at length, on the evening of the third day, Torrington was
pronounced not guilty, many who had recently clamoured for his blood
seemed to be well pleased with his acquittal. He returned to London
free, and with his sword by his side. As his yacht went up the Thames,
every ship which he passed saluted him. He took his seat in the House
of Lords, and even ventured to present himself at court. But most of the
peers looked coldly on him; William would not see him, and ordered him
to be dismissed from the service, [803]

There was another subject about which no vote was passed by either
of the Houses, but about which there is reason to believe that some
acrimonious discussion took place in both. The Whigs, though much less
violent than in the preceding year, could not patiently see Caermarthen
as nearly prime minister as any English subject could be under a prince
of William's character. Though no man had taken a more prominent part in
the Revolution than the Lord President, though no man had more to fear
from a counterrevolution, his old enemies would not believe that he had
from his heart renounced those arbitrary doctrines for which he had
once been zealous, or that he could bear true allegiance to a government
sprung from resistance. Through the last six months of 1690 he was
mercilessly lampooned. Sometimes he was King Thomas and sometimes Tom
the Tyrant, [804] William was adjured not to go to the Continent leaving
his worst enemy close to the ear of the Queen. Halifax, who had, in the
preceding year, been ungenerously and ungratefully persecuted by the
Whigs, was now mentioned by them with respect and regret; for he was the
enemy of their enemy, [805] The face, the figure, the bodily infirmities
of Caermarthen, were ridiculed, [806] Those dealings with the French
Court in which, twelve years before, he had, rather by his misfortune
than by his fault, been implicated, were represented in the most odious
colours. He was reproached with his impeachment and his imprisonment.
Once, it was said, he had escaped; but vengeance might still overtake
him, and London might enjoy the long deferred pleasure of seeing the old
traitor flung off the ladder in the blue riband which he disgraced.
All the members of his family, wife, son, daughters, were assailed with
savage invective and contemptuous sarcasm, [807] All who were supposed
to be closely connected with him by political ties came in for a portion
of this abuse; and none had so large a portion as Lowther. The feeling
indicated by these satires was strong among the Whigs in Parliament.
Several of them deliberated on a plan of attack, and were in hopes that
they should be able to raise such a storm as would make it impossible
for him to remain at the head of affairs. It should seem that, at this
time, his influence in the royal closet was not quite what it had
been. Godolphin, whom he did not love, and could not control, but whose
financial skill had been greatly missed during the summer, was brought
back to the Treasury, and made First Commissioner. Lowther, who was
the Lord President's own man, still sate at the board, but no longer
presided there. It is true that there was not then such a difference as
there now is between the First Lord and his colleagues. Still the change
was important and significant. Marlborough, whom Caermarthen disliked,
was, in military affairs, not less trusted than Godolphin in financial
affairs. The seals which Shrewsbury had resigned in the summer had ever
since been lying in William's secret drawer. The Lord President probably
expected that he should be consulted before they were given away; but he
was disappointed. Sidney was sent for from Ireland; and the seals were
delivered to him. The first intimation which the Lord President received
of this important appointment was not made in a manner likely to soothe
his feelings. "Did you meet the new Secretary of State going out? " said
William. "No, Sir," answered the Lord President; "I met nobody but my
Lord Sidney. " "He is the new Secretary," said William. "He will do till
I find a fit man; and he will be quite willing to resign as soon as I
find a fit man. Any other person that I could put in would think himself
ill used if I were to put him out. " If William had said all that was in
his mind, he would probably have added that Sidney, though not a great
orator or statesman, was one of the very few English politicians who
could be as entirely trusted as Bentinck or Zulestein. Caermarthen
listened with a bitter smile. It was new, he afterwards said, to see a
nobleman placed in the Secretary's office, as a footman was placed in
a box at the theatre, merely in order to keep a seat till his betters
came. But this jest was a cover for serious mortification and alarm. The
situation of the prime minister was unpleasant and even perilous;
and the duration of his power would probably have been short, had
not fortune, just at this moment, put it in his power to confound his
adversaries by rendering a great service to the state, [808]

The Jacobites had seemed in August to be completely crushed. The victory
of the Boyne, and the irresistible explosion of patriotic feeling
produced by the appearance of Tourville's fleet on the coast of
Devonshire, had cowed the boldest champions of hereditary right. Most of
the chief plotters passed some weeks in confinement or in concealment.
But, widely as the ramifications of the conspiracy had extended, only
one traitor suffered the punishment of his crime. This was a man named
Godfrey Cross, who kept an inn on the beach near Rye, and who, when
the French fleet was on the coast of Sussex, had given information
to Tourville. When it appeared that this solitary example was thought
sufficient, when the danger of invasion was over, when the popular
enthusiasm excited by that danger had subsided, when the lenity of the
government had permitted some conspirators to leave their prisons and
had encouraged others to venture out of their hidingplaces, the faction
which had been prostrated and stunned began to give signs of returning
animation. The old traitors again mustered at the old haunts, exchanged
significant looks and eager whispers, and drew from their pockets libels
on the Court of Kensington, and letters in milk and lemon juice from the
Court of Saint Germains. Preston, Dartmouth, Clarendon, Penn, were among
the most busy. With them, was leagued the nonjuring Bishop of Ely, who
was still permitted by the government to reside in the palace, now no
longer his own, and who had, but a short time before, called heaven to
witness that he detested the thought of inviting foreigners to invade
England. One good opportunity had been lost; but another was at hand,
and must not be suffered to escape. The usurper would soon be again out
of England. The administration would soon be again confided to a weak
woman and a divided council. The year which was closing had certainly
been unlucky; but that which was about to commence might be more
auspicious.

In December a meeting of the leading Jacobites was held, [809] The sense
of the assembly, which consisted exclusively of Protestants, was that
something ought to be attempted, but that the difficulties were great.
None ventured to recommend that James should come over unaccompanied
by regular troops. Yet all, taught by the experience of the preceding
summer, dreaded the effect which might be produced by the sight of
French uniforms and standards on English ground. A paper was drawn
up which would, it was hoped, convince both James and Lewis that a
restoration could not be effected without the cordial concurrence of
the nation. France,--such was the substance of this remarkable
document,--might possibly make the island a heap of ruins, but never a
subject province. It was hardly possible for any person, who had not had
an opportunity of observing the temper of the public mind, to imagine
the savage and dogged determination with which men of all classes, sects
and factions were prepared to resist any foreign potentate who should
attempt to conquer the kingdom by force of arms. Nor could England
be governed as a Roman Catholic country. There were five millions of
Protestants in the realm: there were not a hundred thousand Papists:
that such a minority should keep down such a majority was physically
impossible; and to physical impossibility all other considerations
must give way. James would therefore do well to take without delay such
measures as might indicate his resolution to protect the established
religion. Unhappily every letter which arrived from France contained
something tending to irritate feelings which it was most desirable to
soothe. Stories were every where current of slights offered at Saint
Germains to Protestants who had given the highest proof of loyalty by
following into banishment a master zealous for a faith which was not
their own. The edicts which had been issued against the Huguenots might
perhaps have been justified by the anarchical opinions and practices of
those sectaries; but it was the height of injustice and of inhospitality
to put those edicts in force against men who had been driven from their
country solely on account of their attachment to a Roman Catholic
King. Surely sons of the Anglican Church, who had, in obedience to her
teaching, sacrificed all that they most prized on earth to the royal
cause, ought not to be any longer interdicted from assembling in some
modest edifice to celebrate her rites and to receive her consolations.
An announcement that Lewis had, at the request of James, permitted the
English exiles to worship God according to their national forms would
be the best prelude to the great attempt. That attempt ought to be
made early in the spring. A French force must undoubtedly accompany His
Majesty. But he must declare that he brought that force only for the
defence of his person and for the protection of his loving subjects, and
that, as soon as the foreign oppressors had been expelled, the foreign
deliverers should be dismissed. He must also promise to govern according
to law, and must refer all the points which had been in dispute between
him and his people to the decision of a Parliament.

It was determined that Preston should carry to Saint Germains the
resolutions and suggestions of the conspirators, John Ashton, a person
who had been clerk of the closet to Mary of Modena when she was on the
throne, and who was entirely devoted to the interests of the exiled
family, undertook to procure the means of conveyance, and for this
purpose engaged the cooperation of a hotheaded young Jacobite named
Elliot, who only knew in general that a service of some hazard was to be
rendered to the good cause.

It was easy to find in the port of London a vessel the owner of which
was not scrupulous about the use for which it might be wanted. Ashton
and Elliot were introduced to the master of a smack named the James and
Elizabeth. The Jacobite agents pretended to be smugglers, and talked
of the thousands of pounds which might be got by a single lucky trip to
France and back again. A bargain was struck: a sixpence was broken; and
all the arrangements were made for the voyage.

Preston was charged by his friends with a packet containing several
important papers. Among these was a list of the English fleet furnished
by Dartmouth, who was in communication with some of his old companions
in arms, a minute of the resolutions which had been adopted at the
meeting of the conspirators, and the Heads of a Declaration which it
was thought desirable that James should publish at the moment of his
landing. There were also six or seven letters from persons of note in
the Jacobite party. Most of these letters were parables, but parables
which it was not difficult to unriddle. One plotter used the cant of the
law. There was hope that Mr. Jackson would soon recover his estate. The
new landlord was a hard man, and had set the freeholders against him. A
little matter would redeem the whole property. The opinions of the best
counsel were in Mr. Jackson's favour. All that was necessary was that he
should himself appear in Westminster Hall. The final hearing ought to be
before the close of Easter Term. Other writers affected the style of the
Royal Exchange. There was a great demand for a cargo of the right sort.
There was reason to hope that the old firm would soon form profitable
connections with houses with which it had hitherto had no dealings. This
was evidently an allusion to the discontented Whigs. But, it was added,
the shipments must not be delayed. Nothing was so dangerous as to
overstay the market. If the expected goods did not arrive by the tenth
of March, the whole profit of the year would be lost. As to details,
entire reliance might be placed on the excellent factor who was going
over. Clarendon assumed the character of a matchmaker. There was great
hope that the business which he had been negotiating would be brought
to bear, and that the marriage portion would be well secured. "Your
relations," he wrote, in allusion to his recent confinement, "have been
very hard on me this last summer. Yet, as soon as I could go safely
abroad, I pursued the business. " Catharine Sedley entrusted Preston with
a letter in which, without allegory or circumlocution, she complained
that her lover had left her a daughter to support, and begged very
hard for money. But the two most important despatches were from Bishop
Turner. They were directed to Mr. and Mrs. Redding: but the language was
such as it would be thought abject in any gentleman to hold except to
royalty. The Bishop assured their Majesties that he was devoted to their
cause, that he earnestly wished for a great occasion to prove his zeal,
and that he would no more swerve from his duty to them than renounce
his hope of heaven. He added, in phraseology metaphorical indeed, but
perfectly intelligible, that he was the mouthpiece of several of the
nonjuring prelates, and especially of Sancroft. "Sir, I speak in the
plural,"--these are the words of the letter to James,--"because I write
my elder brother's sentiments as well as my own, and the rest of our
family. " The letter to Mary of Modena is to the same effect. "I say this
in behalf of my elder brother, and the rest of my nearest relations, as
well as from myself. " [810]

All the letters with which Preston was charged referred the Court
of Saint Germains to him for fuller information. He carried with him
minutes in his own handwriting of the subjects on which he was to
converse with his master and with the ministers of Lewis. These minutes,
though concise and desultory, can for the most part be interpreted
without difficulty. The vulnerable points of the coast are mentioned.
Gosport is defended only by palisades. The garrison of Portsmouth is
small. The French fleet ought to be out in April, and to fight before
the Dutch are in the Channel. There are a few broken words clearly
importing that some at least of the nonjuring bishops, when they
declared, before God, that they abhorred the thought of inviting the
French over, were dissembling, [811]

Every thing was now ready for Preston's departure. But the owner of the
James and Elizabeth had conceived a suspicion that the expedition for
which his smack had been hired was rather of a political than of
a commercial nature. It occurred to him that more might be made
by informing against his passengers than by conveying them safely.
Intelligence of what was passing was conveyed to the Lord President. No
intelligence could be more welcome to him. He was delighted to find
that it was in his power to give a signal proof of his attachment to the
government which his enemies had accused him of betraying. He took his
measures with his usual energy and dexterity. His eldest son, the Earl
of Danby, a bold, volatile, and somewhat eccentric young man, was fond
of the sea, lived much among sailors, and was the proprietor of a small
yacht of marvellous speed. This vessel, well manned, was placed under
the command of a trusty officer named Billop, and was sent down the
river, as if for the purpose of pressing mariners.

At dead of night, the last night of the year 1690, Preston, Ashton and
Elliot went on board of their smack near the Tower. They were in great
dread lest they should be stopped and searched, either by a frigate
which lay off Woolwich, or by the guard posted at the blockhouse of
Gravesend. But, when they had passed both frigate and blockhouse without
being challenged, their spirits rose: their appetite became keen; they
unpacked a hamper well stored with roast beef, mince pies, and bottles
of wine, and were just sitting down to their Christmas cheer, when the
alarm was given that a vessel from Tilbury was flying through the water
after them. They had scarcely time to hide themselves in a dark hole
among the gravel which was the ballast of their smack, when the chase
was over, and Billop, at the head of an armed party, came on board. The
hatches were taken up: the conspirators were arrested; and their clothes
were strictly examined. Preston, in his agitation, had dropped on the
gravel his official seal and the packet of which he was the bearer. The
seal was discovered where it had fallen. Ashton, aware of the importance
of the papers, snatched them up and tried to conceal them; but they were
soon found in his bosom.

The prisoners then tried to cajole or to corrupt Billop. They called for
wine, pledged him, praised his gentlemanlike demeanour, and assured him
that, if he would accompany them, nay, if he would only let that little
roll of paper fall overboard into the Thames, his fortune would be made.
The tide of affairs, they said, was on the turn, things could not go on
for ever as they had gone on of late and it was in the captain's power
to be as great and as rich as he could desire. Billop, though courteous,
was inflexible. The conspirators became sensible that their necks
were in imminent danger. The emergency brought out strongly the
true characters of all the three, characters which, but for such an
emergency, might have remained for ever unknown. Preston had always been
reputed a highspirited and gallant gentleman; but the near prospect of
a dungeon and a gallows altogether unmanned him. Elliot stormed and
blasphemed, vowed that, if he ever got free, he would be revenged, and,
with horrible imprecations, called on the thunder to strike the yacht,
and on London Bridge to fall in and crush her. Ashton alone behaved with
manly firmness.

Late in the evening the yacht reached Whitehall Stairs; and the
prisoners, strongly guarded, were conducted to the Secretary's office.
The papers which had been found in Ashton's bosom were inspected that
night by Nottingham and Caermarthen, and were, on the following morning,
put by Caermarthen into the hands of the King.

Soon it was known all over London that a plot had been detected, that
the messengers whom the adherents of James had sent to solicit the help
of an invading army from France had been arrested by the agents of the
vigilant and energetic Lord President, and that documentary evidence,
which might affect the lives of some great men, was in the possession
of the government. The Jacobites were terrorstricken; the clamour of the
Whigs against Caermarthen was suddenly hushed; and the Session ended in
perfect harmony. On the fifth of January the King thanked the Houses
for their support, and assured them that he would not grant away any
forfeited property in Ireland till they should reassemble. He alluded to
the plot which had just been discovered, and expressed a hope that the
friends of England would not, at such a moment, be less active or less
firmly united than her enemies. He then signified his pleasure that the
Parliament should adjourn. On the following day he set out, attended by
a splendid train of nobles, for the Congress at the Hague, [812]


*****


[Footnote 1: Letter from Lady Cavendish to Sylvia. Lady Cavendish, like
most of the clever girls of that generation, had Scudery's romances
always in her head. She is Dorinda: her correspondent, supposed to be
her cousin Jane Allington, is Sylvia: William is Ormanzor, and Mary
Phenixana. London Gazette, Feb. 14 1688/9; Narcissus Luttrell's Diary.
Luttrell's Diary, which I shall very often quote, is in the library of
All Souls' College. I am greatly obliged to the Warden for the kindness
with which he allowed me access to this valuable manuscript. ]

[Footnote 2: See the London Gazettes of February and March 1688/9, and
Narcissus Luttrell's Diary. ]

[Footnote 3: Wagenaar, lxi. He quotes the proceedings of the States of
the 2nd of March, 1689. London Gazette, April 11, 1689; Monthly Mercury
for April, 1689. ]

[Footnote 4: "I may be positive," says a writer who had been educated at
Westminster School, "where I heard one sermon of repentance, faith, and
the renewing of the Holy Ghost, I heard three of the other; and 'tis
hard to say whether Jesus Christ or King Charles the First were oftener
mentioned and magnified. " Bisset's Modern Fanatick, 1710. ]

[Footnote 5: Paris Gazette, Jan 26/Feb 5 1689. Orange Gazette, London,
Jan. 10. 1688/9]

[Footnote 6: Grey's Debates; Howe's speech; Feb. 26. 1688/9; Boscawen's
speech, March 1; Narcissus Luttrell's Diary, Feb. 23-27. ]

[Footnote 7: Grey's Debates; Feb. 26. 1688/9]

[Footnote 8: This illustration is repeated to satiety in sermons and
pamphlets of the time of William the Third. There is a poor imitation of
Absalom and Ahitophel entitled the Murmurers. William is Moses; Corah,
Dathan and Abiram, nonjuring Bishops; Balaam, I think, Dryden; and
Phinchas Shrewsbury,]

[Footnote 9: Reresby's Memoirs. ]

[Footnote 10: Here, and in many other places, I abstain from citing
authorities, because my authorities are too numerous to cite. My notions
of the temper and relative position of political and religious parties
in the reign of William the Third, have been derived, not from any
single work, but from thousands of forgotten tracts, sermons, and
satires; in fact, from a whole literature which is mouldering in old
libraries. ]

[Footnote 11: The following passage in a tract of that time expresses
the general opinion. "He has better knowledge of foreign affairs than we
have; but in English business it is no dishonour to him to be told his
relation to us, the nature of it, and what is fit for him to do. "--An
Honest Commoner's Speech. ]

[Footnote 12: London Gazette, Feb. 18. 1688/9]

[Footnote 13: London Gazette, Feb. 18. 1688/9; Sir J. Reresby's
Memoirs. ]

[Footnote 14: London Gazette, Feb. 18. 1688/9; Lords' Journals. ]

[Footnote 15: Burnet, ii. 4. ]

[Footnote 16: These memoirs will be found in a manuscript volume, which
is part of the Harleian Collection, and is numbered 6584. They are in
fact, the first outlines of a great part of Burnet's History of His Own
Times. The dates at which the different portions of this most curious
and interesting book were composed are marked. Almost the whole was
written before the death of Mary. Burnet did not begin to prepare his
History of William's reign for the press till ten years later. By
that time his opinions both of men and of things, had undergone great
changes. The value of the rough draught is therefore very great: for
it contains some facts which he afterwards thought it advisable to
suppress, and some judgments which he afterwards saw cause to alter.
I must own that I generally like his first thoughts best. Whenever
his History is reprinted, it ought to be carefully collated with this
volume.

When I refer to the Burnet MS. Harl. 6584, I wish the reader to
understand that the MS. contains something which is not to be found in
the History.

As to Nottingham's appointment, see Burnet, ii. 8; the London Gazette of
March 7. 1688/9; and Clarendon's Diary of Feb. 15. ]

[Footnote 17: London Gazette, Feb. 18. 1688/9]

[Footnote 18: Don Pedro de Ronquillo makes this objection. ]

[Footnote 19: London Gazette, March 11 1688/9. ]

[Footnote 20: Ibid. ]

[Footnote 21: I have followed what seems to me the most probable story.
But it has been doubted whether Nottingham was invited to be Chancellor,
or only to be First Commissioner of the Great Seal. Compare Burnet ii.