No More Learning

,. . .

without ef- purpose to deny him the exercise of his religion ; he
might have his chaplain say prayers to him in his
own chamber, or in some room adjacent, which
served likewise to all other purposes ; but that the
setting a room apart, as this was, for that service,
was upon the matter dedicating it as a chapel for
the exercise of a religion contrary to what was esta-
blished in that kingdom ; which the king of France
would not suffer to be done in a house of his, though
the king should return thither again. He under-
valued all the considerations which were offered of
England, or of a protestant interest, as if he thought
them all, as no doubt he did, of no importance to
the king's restoration, which could never be effected
but by that interest which was quite opposite to it.
When he gave the queen an account of this dis-
course, he prevailed so far with her, that she pro-
mised, in case she should be compelled to take away
that room, as she foresaw she should be, the family
should be permitted to meet in some other room ;
and if the duke of York came, the place that should
be appointed for his devotions, should serve for all
the rest to resort to.

As soon as the chancellor had recovered his
strength, he took leave of the queen, and pursued

The chan- his journey for Flanders. At Brussels he stayed till
k e had an audience of the archduke, to whom he
had letters from the king of Spain and don Lewis ;
by which the king signified his pleasure that he
should reside any where in those provinces he best
liked, until he could conveniently repair to the king



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 283

his master; and that in the mean time he should PART
enjoy all the privileges due to an ambassador : and



so he had his audience in that quality. He spake 165 -

Has an an-

il! Latin ; and the archduke, answering in the same, dience of
assured him of all the respects he could pay him duke.
whilst he stayed in those parts : and thereupon he And resides
went to his family at Antwerp, and kept that cha- mliy at* *
racter till the king's coming into France, and his ^Sac-
return to him ; by means whereof he enjoyed many ^"ado'""
privileges and exemptions in the town ; and had the
freedom of his chapel, not only for his own devo-
tions, but for the resort of all the protestants who
were then in the town ; whereof the marquis of
Newcastle, the earl of Norwich, and sir Charles
Cavendish were the principal ; who came always on
the Sundays, and frequently on the week days, to
the common prayer, to the grief of many English
and Irish Roman catholics ; who used all the mali-
cious artifices they could to procure that liberty to
be restrained ; and which could not have been en-
joyed under any other concession than by the privi-
lege of an ambassador.

Whilst he was preparing to make a journey to the
Hague, to wait upon the duke of York, according to
the promise he had made to the queen, he received
information from the Hague, that his royal highness
would be at Breda such a day ; whereupon he was He goes to

,, , ,. . , ,, . . the duke of

glad to shorten his journey, and at the day to kiss York at Bre-
his hands there ; where he found his highness newly id? him



arrived, and in an inclination enough to return to tumto



r



the queen ; so that the chancellor had no great task
to confirm him in that resolution ; nor in truth did
he know what else to do : however, all about him
were very glad of the chancellor's presence, every



284 THE LIFE OF

PART body hoping to get him to their party, that he might

- be ready to make a fair report of their behaviour to

' the king ; whom they knew the queen would endea-

vour to incense against them.

Someac- Never little family was torn into so many pieces
theduke of and factions. The duke was very young, yet loved



so we ll, that he was too much inclined to
hearken to any men who had the confidence to make
bold propositions to him. The king had appointed
him to remain with the queen, and to obey her in
all things, religion only excepted. The lord Byron
was his governor, ordained to be so by his father,
and very fit for that province; being a very fine
gentleman ; well bred both in France and Italy,
and perfectly versed in both languages ; of great
courage and fidelity ; and in all respects qualified
for the trust ; but his being absent in the king's ser-
vice when the duke made his escape out of England,
and sir John Berkley being then put about him, all
pains had been taken to lessen his esteem of the
lord Byron ; and sir John Berkley, knowing that he
could no longer remain governor when the lord
Byron came thither, and hearing that he was in his
journey, infused into the duke's mind, that it was a
great lessening of his dignity at that age (when he
was not above fourteen years of age, and backward
enough for that age) to be under a governor ; and
so, partly by disesteeming the person, and partly by
reproaching the office, he grew less inclined to
the person of that good lord than he should have
been.

But what title soever any body had, the whole
authority was in the queen, not only by the direc-
tion of the king, but by inevitable necessity ; for



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 285

there was no kind of fund assigned for the support PART
of the duke; but he depended entirely upon the.



queen his mother's bounty, who had no more as-
signed for herself than they, to whom the manage-
ment thereof was committed, knew well how to dis-
pose of, nor was it enough to serve their occasions ;
so that her majesty herself certainly spent less upon
her own person, or in any thing relating to herself,
than ever any queen or lady of a very eminent de-
gree did. This visible and total dependence of the
duke upon his mother made her majesty the less
apprehensive of his doing any thing contrary to her
Uking ; and there was not that care for the general
part of his education, nor that indulgence to his
person, as ought to have been ; and the queen's
own carriage and behaviour towards him was at
least severe enough, as it had been before to the
king, in the time that he was prince; which then
and now gave opportunity to those who were not
themselves at ease, to make many infusions ; which,
how contrary soever to their duties, were not so un-
reasonable as to be easily rejected, or to make no
impression.

The king, at his going from Beauvais in his
voyage for Scotland, had given some recommenda-
tion to the duke his brother of sir George Ratcliff ; to
whose care his father had once designed to commit
him, when he meant to have sent him into Ireland ;
and his majesty had likewise, at the same time at
Beauvais, made some promise to sir George Ratcliff
of some place about his brother, when his family
should be settled, of which there was then little ap-
pearance : however, it was enough to entitle him to
give his frequent attendance upon the duke ; and



286 THE LIFE OF

PART the general reputation he had of having been the
person of the nearest trust with the earl of Strafford,



1650. m jgh we n dispose the duke to think him a wise
man, and the better to esteem any thing he said to
him.

Sir Edward Herbert thought himself the wisest
man that followed the king's fortune, and was al-
ways angry that he had no more to do ; and now
prince Rupert was absent, endeavoured all he could
to get credit with the duke of York; and came
very frequently to him, and held him in long whis-
pers, which the duke easily indulged to him, out of
a real belief that he was a man of great wisdom and
experience. The queen liked neither of these two ;
which they well enough discerning, grew into a
friendship, or rather a familiarity together, though
they were of the most different natures and humours
imaginable : Ratcliff being a man very capable of
business ; and if the prosperity of his former fortune
had not raised in him some fumes of vanity and self-
conceitedness, was very fit to be advised with, being
of a nature constant and sincere ; which the other
was not : yet they agreed well in the design of mak-
ing the duke of York discontented and weary of his
condition ; which was not pleasant enough to be
much delighted in.
The cause ^he news from England, of the state of the king's

of the duke < &

of York's affairs in Scotland, made most men believe that his

having left . . , _

Paris. majesty was irrecoverably lost ; and there was tor
some time a rumour scattered abroad, and by many
believed, that the king was dead. These two gen-
tlemen, upon the fame of this, consulted together,
whether, if the news were or should be true, the
duke of York, who must succeed, were in a good



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 287

place ; and both concluded, that in that case it would PART
not be fit that he should be with his mother. Here- '
upon they persuaded the duke, that it was not fit 163 -
for him to remain idle in France, but to employ him-
self abroad ; whereby his experience might be im-
proved, and he might put himself into a posture to
be able to assist the king his brother ; or if any mis-
fortune should befall him, in some degree to provide
for himself; and proposed to him, that he would re-
solve to make a journey to Brussels, to advise and
consult with the duke of Lorrain, who was a prince
of great wisdom, wealth, and courage ; and being
driven out of his own country by too powerful and
potent a neighbour, had yet, by his own activity and
virtue, made himself so considerable, that Spain de-
pended upon his army, and France itself would be
glad of his friendship; that he was very rich, and
would not be only able to give the duke good coun-
sel, but assistance to make it effectual.

The duke, without further examining the proba-
bility of the design, which he concluded had been
thought upon enough by two such wise men, gave
his full consent to it ; and they having likewise found
credit for so much money as would defray the
charges of the journey, and really believing that the
king was dead, the duke one day told the queen,
that he was resolved to make a journey to Brussels to
see the duke of Lorrain ; with which the queen be-
ing surprised, used both her reason and her autho-
rity to dissuade him from it, but could not prevail
by either ; his highness telling her very obstinately,
that he would begin his journey within two days.
She found that none of his servants were privy to
the design, or were at all acquainted with the pur-



288 THE LIFE OF

PA RT pose ; and quickly discovered the two counsellors ,

! who, having no relation to his service that she knew,

1650. were prepared to wait on him, and had drawn Dr.
Steward (who was dean of the chapel to the king,
and left behind when his majesty went for Scotland,
with direction to be with the duke of York) to be
of their party.

character The doctor was a very honest and learned gen-
stewlrd tleman, and most conversant in that learning which
vindicated the dignity and/ authority of the church ;
upon which his heart was most entirely set ; not
without some prejudice to those who thought there
was any other object to be more carefully pursued.
Sir George Ratcliff seemed to be of his mind, and so
was looked upon by him as one of the best friends of
the church ; which was virtue enough to cover many
defects. He told him of the rumour of the death
of the king, and what conference had been between
him and the attorney general upon it, which they
both believed ; and how necessary they thought it
was for the duke to be out of France when the cer-
tainty of that news should arrive : that they had
spoken with the duke of it, who seemed very well
disposed ; yet they knew not how his mother's au-
thority might prevail over his obedience ; and there-
fore wished that he would speak with the duke,
who had great reverence for him in all matters of
conscience, and remove any scruples which might
arise. The doctor did not think himself so much
regarded by the queen as he expected to be, and did
really believe the case to be such as the other had
informed him ; and confirmed the duke in his reso-
lution, notwithstanding any thing his mother should
say to the contrary; and the queen could neither



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 289

say or do any thing to dissuade him from the PART
. ' vi.
journey.

The lord Byron his governor, and Mr. Bennet his ' ^ 50m
secretary, both well liked by the queen, and of great
confidence in each other, thought it their duty to
attend upon him. Sir John Berkley stayed behind,
as well to avoid the being inferior to another, which
he always abhorred, as to prosecute an amour which
he was newly embarked in ; and sir George Ratcliff,
and sir Edward Herbert, and the good doctor, were
so to improve their interest, that neither the queen
or any who depended on her might have any credit
with the duke. Most of the inferior servants de-
pended upon them, because they saw they had most
interest with their master ; and with these thoughts
and resolutions they all set out for Brussels : and
these wild notions were the true reasons and foun-
dation of that journey, which many sober men so
much wondered at then, and so much censured af-
terwards.

When his highness came to Brussels, he was ac-
commodated in the house of sir Henry de Vic, the
king's resident there : and he was no sooner there,
but they began to model his house and regulate his
family ; towards which sir George Ratcliff was de-
signed to manage all the affairs of money ; the at-
torney contenting himself with having the greatest
power in governing the councils ; and all looking for
other stations upon the arrival of the news from
Scotland. But in a short time the intelligence from
thence was quite contrary to what they expected ;
the king was not only in good health, but his affairs
in no desperate condition ; all factions seemed re-

VOL. i. tr



290 THE LIFE OF

PART conciled, and he was at the head of an army that
looked Cromwell in the face.



1650. Hereupon they were at a great stand in their
councils. The duke of Lorrain had been civil to
the duke, and had at his first coming lent him some
money ; but when he found he was without any de-
sign, and by what persons his counsels were directed,
he grew colder in his respects ; and they who had
gone thus far, took upon them the presumption to
propose a marriage between the duke of York and a
natural daughter of the duke of Lorrain ; his mar-
riage with madame de Cantecroy, the mother of the
said lady, being declared void in the court of Rome :
but the duke of Lorrain was so wise as not to enter-
tain the motion, except it should be made with the
king's privity. So apt are unexperienced men, when
they are once out of the way, to wander into bogs
and precipices, before they will be sensible of their
false conduct. When they found there was nothing
to be done at Brussels, they persuaded the duke to
go to the Hague, with as little design ; and when
they had wearied all people there, they came to
Breda, where the chancellor had met them.
The state The duke himself was so young, that he was ra-

of the duke * &

of York's ther delighted with the journeys he had made, than
Breda. * sensible that he had not entered upon them with
reason enough ; and they had fortified him with a
firm resolution, never to acknowledge that he had
committed any error. But his counsellors had lost
all the pleasure of their combination, and reproached
each other of their follies and presumptions with all
the animosity imaginable. The lord Byron and Mr.
Bennet, who had comforted each other in their suf-



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 291

ferings, were glad enough to see that there was PART

some end put to their peregrinations, and that by !

returning to the queen they were like to find some 1650;
rest again ; and they entertained the chancellor with
many ridiculous relations of the politics of the attor-
ney and sir George Ratcliff, and of the pleasant dis-
courses the duke of Lorrain made of the Latin ora-
tions sir George Ratcliff had entertained him with.

On the other hand, sir George was well pleased
with the grace he had received from the duke of
Lorrain, and with the testimony he had given of
him to some men who had told him of it again, that
he was a very grave and a wise man, and that he
wished he had such another to look after his affairs.
He and Dr. Steward continued their affections to-
wards each other, and concurred in most bitter in-
vectives against sir Edward Herbert, as a madman,
and of that intolerable pride, that it was not possible
for any man to converse with him ; and the attorney
as frankly reproached them all with being men of no
parts, of no understanding, no learning, no principles,
and no resolution ; and was so just to them all, as
to contemn every man alike ; and in truth had ren-
dered himself so grievous to them all, and behaved
himself so insolently towards all, that there was not
a man who desired to be in his company : yet by
the knack of his talk, which was the most like rea-
son, and not it, he retained still great credit with
the duke ; who being still confounded with his posi-
tive discourse, thought him to be wiser than those
who were more easy to be understood.

The duke upon the receipt of the queen's letters,
which the chancellor delivered to him, resolved upon
his journey to Paris without further delay ; and the

u 2



292 THE LIFE OF

PART chancellor waiting upon his highness as far as Ant-
. werp, he prosecuted his journey with the same reti-



1650. nue h e had carr i e( i ^th him ; and was received by
his mother without those expostulations and repre-
hensions which he might have expected ; though her
severity was the same towards all those who she
thought had the credit and power to seduce him.

The chancellor was now at a little rest again with
his own family in Antwerp ; and had time to be
vacant to his own thoughts and books ; and in the
interval to enjoy the conversation of many worthy
persons of his own nation, who had chosen that
place to spend the time of their banishment in.
There was the marquis of Newcastle, who having
married a young lady, confined himself most to her
company ; and lived as retired as his ruined condi-
tion in England obliged him to ; yet with honour,
and decency, and with much respect paid him by all
men, as well foreigners as those of his own country.
The chan- The conversation the chancellor took most delight
friendship in was that of sir Charles Cavendish, brother to the

with, and . . A , , , .

character of, marquis; who was one of the most extraordinary
P ersons f tna * age, in all the noble endowments of
the mind. He had all the disadvantages imaginable
in his person ; which was not only of so small a size
that it drew the eyes of men upon him, but with
such deformity in his little person, and an aspect in
his countenance, that was apter to raise contempt
than application : but in this unhandsome or homely
habitation, there was a mind and a soul lodged that
was very lovely and beautiful ; cultivated and po-
lished by all the knowledge and wisdom that arts
and sciences could supply it with. He was a great
philosopher, in the extent of it ; and an excellent



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 293

mathematician; whose correspondence was very dear PART
to Gassendus and Descartes ; the last of which dedi- .



cated some of his works to him. He had very nota-
ble courage ; and the vigour of his mind so adorned
his body, that being with his brother the marquis in
all the war, he usually went out in all parties, and
was present, and charged the enemy in all battles
with as keen a courage as could dwell in the heart
of man. But then the gentleness of his disposition,
the humility and meekness of his nature, and the
vivacity of his wit was admirable. He was so
modest, that he could hardly be prevailed with to
enlarge himself on subjects he understood better
than other men, except he were pressed by his very
familiar friends ; as if he thought it presumption to
know more than handsomer men use to do. Above
all, his virtue and piety was such, that no tempta-
tion could work upon him to consent to any thing
that swerved in the least degree from the precise
rules of honour, or the most severe rules of con-
science. X?

When he was exceedingly importuned by those
whom he loved best to go into England, and com-
pound for his estate, which was very good, that
thereby he might be enabled to help his friends,
who were reduced into great straits ; he refused it,
out of apprehension that he might be required to
take the covenant or engagement, or to do some-
what else which his conscience would not permit
him to do : and when they endeavoured to under-
value that conscience, and to persuade him not to
be governed by it, that would expose him to famine,
and restrain him from being charitable to his best
friends ; he was so offended with their argumenta-

u 3



294 THE LIFE OF

PART tion, that he would no more admit any discourse

vi *
L__upon the subject. Upon which they applied them-

1650. se i ves t o t ne chancellor; who they thought had
most credit with him ; and desired him to persuade
him to make a journey into England ; the benefit
whereof to him and themselves was very intelligible;
but informed him not of his refusal, and the argu-
ments they had used to convert him.

The chan- The next time they met, which they usually did
suadessir once a day, the chancellor told him, he heard he

Charles Ca- , , .

vendish to had a purpose to make a journey into England ; to
faad! Dg which he suddenly answered, that indeed he was
desired to do so, but that he had positively refused ;
and thereupon, with much warmth and indignation,
related what importunity and what arguments had
been used to him, and what he had answered: and
thereupon said, that his present condition was in no
degree pleasant or easy to him, (as in truth it was
not, he being in very visible want of ordinary con-
veniences,) but, he protested, that he would rather
submit to nakedness, or starving in the street, than
subscribe to the covenant or engagement, or do any
thing else that might trench b upon his honour or
his conscience. To which the chancellor replied,
that his resolution became him, and was worthy of
his wisdom and honesty; and that if he found him
inclined to do any thing that might trench upon
either, he was so much his friend, that he would
put him in mind of his obligations to both ; that in-
deed the arguments which had been used to him
could never prevail upon a virtuous mind : however,
he told him, he thought the motion from his friends
might be a little more considered before it was re-.
b trench] reflect



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 295

jected; and confessed to him, that he was desired PART
to confer with him about it, and to dispose him to



it, without being informed that any attempt had
been already made : and then asked him, whether
he did in truth believe that his journey thither
might probably produce those benefits to himself
and his friends as they imagined ; and then it would
be fit to consider, whether those conveniences were
to be purchased at a dearer price than they were
worth.

He answered, there could be no doubt, but that if
he could go thither with safety, and be admitted to
compound for his estate, as others did, he could then
sell it at so good a price, that he could not only
provide for a competent subsistence for himself,
when he returned, but likewise assist his friends for
their better support; and that he could otherwise,
out of lands that were in trust, and not known to
be his, and so had not been yet sequestered, raise
other sums of money, which would be attended with
many conveniences ; and he confessed nothing of all
this could be done without his own presence. But
then that which deprived him of all this was, in the
first place, the apprehension of imprisonment; which,
he said, his constitution would not bear; but espe-
cially, because by their own ordinance nobody was
capable to compound till he had subscribed to the
covenant and engagement ; which he would not do
to save his life ; and that in what necessity soever
he was, he valued what benefit he could possibly
receive by the journey only as it might consist with
his innocence and liberty to return ; and since he
could not reasonably presume of either, he had no
thought of going.

u 4



296 THE LIFE OF

PART The chancellor told him, that they were both of
vi. .

. the same mind in all things which related to con-



1 650. sc i ence an d honour ; but yet, since the benefits that
might result from this journey were great, and very
probable, and in some degree certain, and the mis-
chiefs he apprehended were not certain, and possibly
might be avoided, he thought he was not to lay
aside all thoughts of the journey, which he was so
importuned to undertake by those who were so dear
to him. That he was of the few who had many
friends, and no enemies ; and therefore had no rea-
son to fear imprisonment, or any other rigour extra-
ordinary; which was seldom used, but to persons
under some notable prejudice. That after he once
came to London, he would not take much pleasure
in going abroad; but might despatch his business
by others, who would repair to him : and that for
the covenant and engagement, they were so con-
trary, that both were rarely offered to the same per-
son ; and they had now so much justled and reviled
each other, that they were neither in so much credit
as they had been, and were not pressed but upon
such persons against whom they had a particular
design ; however, he went well armed, as to that
point, with a resolution not to submit to either;
and the worst that could happen, was to return
without the full effect of his journey. Whereas if
those mischiefs could be avoided, which the skilful
upon the place could only instruct him in, he would
return with great benefit and satisfaction to himself
and his friends ; and if he were subjected to impri-
sonment, (which he ought not to apprehend, and
could be but short,) even in that case his journey
could not be without fruit, by the conference and



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 297

transactions with his friends; though no composi- PART
tion could be made. Upon revolving these con-



siderations, he resolved to undertake the journey; 165 -
and performed it so happily, without those obstruc-
tions he feared, that he finished all he proposed to
himself, and made a competent provision to support
his brother during his distress ; though when he had
despatched it, he lived not to enjoy the repose he
desired, but died before he could return to Ant-
werp : and the marquis ever after publicly acknow-
ledged the benefit he received hereby to the chan-
cellor's advice.

As soon as the chancellor had reposed himself at 1651.
Antwerp, after so much fatigue, he thought it ne-
cessary to give some account of himself to the king ;
and though the prohibition before his going into
Scotland, and the sending away many of the ser-
vants who attended him thither out of the king-
dom, made it unfit for him to repair thither himself,
he resolved to send his secretary, (a man of fidelity,
and well known to the king,) to inform his majesty of
all that had passed, and to bring back his commands ;
but when he was at Amsterdam, ready to embark,
upon a ship bound for Scotland, the news arrived
there of his majesty's being upon his march for Eng-
land ; upon which he returned to Antwerp ; where
he found the spirits of all the English exalted with
the same advertisement.

As soon as the king came to Paris, (after his
wonderful deliverance from the battle of Wor-
cester}) and knew that the chancellor of the exche-
quer was at Antwerp, his majesty sent to him to
repair thither, which he accordingly did; and for
the first four or Jive days after his arrival, the



298 THE LIFE OF

PART king spent many hours with him in private ; and
informed him of many particulars of the treatment



1 65 1 he had met with in Scotland ; of his march into
England ; of the confusion at Worcester ; and all
the circumstances of his happy escape and deliver-
ance. Hist, of the Reb. vo. vol. vi. p. 542.

1652. The chancellor was yet looked upon with no un-

The queen

endeavours gracious eye by her majesty ; only the lord Jermyn
th e a c han- fcnew well he would never resign himself to be dis-



posed of, which was the temper that could only en-
dear any man to him : for besides former experi-
ence, an attempt had been lately made upon him by
sir John Berkley ; who told him, that the queen had
a good opinion of him ; and knew well in how ill a
condition he must be, in respect of his subsistence ;
and that she would assign him such a competent
maintenance, that he should be able to draw his fa-
mily to him out of Flanders to Paris, and to live
comfortably together, if she might be confident of
his service, and that he would always concur with
her in his advice to the king. To which he an-
swered, that he should never fail in performing his
duty to the queen, whom he acknowledged to be his
most gracious mistress, with all possible integrity :
but as he was a servant and counsellor to the king,
so he should always consider what was good for his
service ; and never decline that out of any coriipli-
ance whatsoever ; and that he did not desire to be
supported from any bounty but the king's ; nor
more by his, than in proportion with what his ma-
jesty should be able to do for his other servants.
And shortly after the queen herself speaking with
him, and complaining that she had no credit with
His answer. the king; the chancellor desired her not to think



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 299

so; he knew well the king had great duty for her, PART
which he would still preserve towards her; but as ____! _
it would not be fit for her to affect such an interest J fi52 -
as to be thought to govern, so nothing could be
more disadvantageous to the king, and to his in-
terest, than that the world should believe that he
was absolutely governed by his mother; which he
found (though she seemed to consent to it) was no
acceptable declaration to her. However, she did
often employ him to the king, upon such particulars
as troubled or offended her ; as once, for the re-
moval of a young lady out of the Louvre, who had
procured a lodging there without her majesty's con-
sent ; and with whom her majesty was justly of-
fended, for the little respect she shewed towards her
majesty : and when the chancellor had prevailed so
far with the king, that he obliged the lady to remove
out of the Louvre, to satisfy his mother, the queen
was well content that the lady herself and her friends
should believe, that she had undergone that affront
merely by the malice and credit of the chancellor.

The king remained at Paris till the year 1654 ; '653.
when, in the month of June, he left France ; and 1654.
passing through Flanders, went to Spa ; where he
proposed to spend two or three months with his
sister, the princess royal. His stay at Spa was
not so long as he intended, the smallpox breaking
out there. His majesty and his sister suddenly 1655.
removed to Aix-la-Chapelle. Hist, of the Reb. 8vo.
vol. vii. p. 99. &c.

c At this time there fell out an accident neces-

c The entrance of the chan- in both manuscripts. The fact
cellar's daughter into the family is here retained, as best pre-
of the princess royal is related serving the order of time: the



300 THE LIFE OF

PART sary d to be insertedjn the particular relation of the
. chancellor's life ; which had afterwards an influence



1655. U p On hi s fortune, and a very great one upon the
peace and quiet of his mind, and of his family.
When the king resolved, immediately after the
murder of his father, to send the chancellor his am-
bassador into Spain, the chancellor, being to begin
his journey from the Hague, sent for his wife and
children to meet him at Antwerp ; and had at that
time only four children, one daughter and three
sons ; all of so tender years, that their own discre-
tions could contribute little to their education.
The situ- These children, under the sole direction of a very

ation of the *

chancellor's discreet mother, he left at Antwerp, competently
Antwerp, provided for, for the space of a year or more ; hop-
ing in that time to be able to send them some fur-
ther supply ; and having removed them out of Eng-
land, to prevent any inconvenience that might befall
them there, upon any accident that might result
from his negociation in Spain ; it being in those
times no unusual thing for the parliament, when it
had conceived any notable displeasure against a man
who was out of their reach, to seize upon his wife
and children, and to imprison them in what manner
and for what time seemed reasonable to them ; and
from this hazard he was willing to preserve his.

circumstances preceding it, from ted by him, it has been thought

p. 300. 1. 5. top. 302. I. 14. and better to insert the whole account

the conclusion of it, p. 307. I. as it stands in the manuscript;

15. to 1. 26. are transcribedfrom for which the reader is Yef erred

the manuscript of The Continu- to a note in the early part of The

ation; and therefore the whole Continuation. ']

transaction is omitted in that d an accident necessary] an

part of this work. accident not pertinent to the

[This note was inserted by the public history of that time, but

editor of the fast edition : as necessary
however some portion was omit-



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. SOI

The king was in Scotland when the chancellor re- PART
turned from his embassy to Antwerp, where his fa-.



mily had still remained; his children being grown 1655>
as much as usually attends the space of two years,
which was the time he had been absent. The fatal
success at Worcester about this time had put a pe-
riod to all his majesty's present designs ; and he had
no sooner made his wonderful escape into France,
than he sent for the chancellor ; who left his family,
as he had done formerly, and as meanly supplied,
and made all haste to Paris, where he found the
king ; with whom he remained till his majesty was
even compelled to remove from thence into Germany;
which was above three years.

During that time the princess royal had, out of They re -
her own princely nature and inclination, cultivated
by the civility and offices of the lady Stanhope, con-
ferred a very seasonable obligation upon him, by
assigning a house, that was in her disposal at Breda,
to his wife and children ; who had thereupon left -
Antwerp ; and, without the payment of any house-
rent, were more conveniently, because more frugally,
settled in their new mansion at Breda; where he
got liberty to visit them for four or five days, whilst
the king continued his journey to the Spa, and after
another absence of near four years ; finding his chil-
dren grown and improved after that rate. The
gracious inclination in the princess royal towards
the chancellor's wife and children, (not without some
reprehension from Paris,) and the civilities in the
lady Stanhope, had proceeded much from the good
offices of Daniel O'Neile, of the king's bedchamber ;
who had for many years lived in very good corre-
spondence with the chancellor, and was very accept-



302 THE LIFE OF

PART able in the court of the princess royal, and to those

_J persons who had the greatest influence upon her

1655. counc jig a nd affections.

The princess met the king her brother at the Spa,
rather for the mutual comfort they took in each
other, than for the use either of them had of the
waters ; yet the princess engaged herself to that or^
der and diet that the waters required ; and after
near a month's stay there, they were forced suddenly
to remove from thence, by the sickness of some of
the princess's women of the smallpox, and resided
at Aix-la-Chapelle ; where they had been but one
whole day, when notice came from the Spa, that
Mrs. Killigrew, one of the maids of honour to the
Mr. o'Neiie princess, was dead of the smallpox. O'Neile came
the P chan- t0 m the instant to the chancellor, with very much
*"^J r t s oask kindness, and told him e , that the princess royal had
Kiiiigrew's a verv good opinion of him, and kind purposes to-
daughter. wards his family ; which she knew suffered much for
his fidelity to the king ; and therefore that she was.
much troubled to find that her mother the queen
had less kindness for him than he deserved ; that
by the death of Mrs. Killigrew there was a place
now fallen, which very many would desire ; and that
it would no sooner be known at Paris, than the
queen would undoubtedly recommend some lady ta
the princess ; but he was confident that, if the
chancellor would move the king to recommend his
daughter, who was known to the princess, her high-
ness would willingly receive her. He thanked him

e O'Neile came in the instant by his friendship with the lady

to the chancellor, with very much Stanhope had much credit in

kindness, and told him] Mr. the family of the princess, came

O'Neile, who professed much to him and told him
kindness to the chancellor, and



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 303

for his particular kindness, but conjured him not to PART
use his interest to promote any such pretence; and



told him f , that " himself would not apply the king's' 6 ^ 5 '

* r * & Which the

" favour to such a request ; that he had but one chancellor

declines.

" daughter , who was all the company and comfort
" her mother had in her melancholic retirement,
" and therefore he was resolved not to separate
" them, nor to dispose his daughter to a court life ;"
which he did in truth perfectly detest. O'Neile,
much disappointed with the answer, and believing
that the proposition would have been very grateful
to him, confessed, that the princess had been already
moved in it by the lady Chesterfield; and that it
was her own desire that the king should move it to
her, to the end that she might be thereby sheltered
from the reproach which she expected from the
queen ; but that the princess herself had so much
kindness for his daughter, that she had long resolved
to have her upon the first vacancy. The chancellor
was exceedingly perplexed, and resolved nothing
more, than that his daughter should not live from
her mother ; and therefore renewed his conjurations
to Mr. O'Neile, that he would not further promote
it, since it would never be acceptable to him ; and
concluded, that his making no application, and the
importunity of others who desired the honour, would
put an end to the pretence.

The king had heard of the matter from the The king
princess, and willingly expected when the chan-SmoVthat
cellor would move him for his recommendation ; sub J ect -
which when he saw he forbore to do, he spake him-
self to him of it, and asked him why he did not

f told him] Omitted in MS. he had then no more)
daughter] MS. adds: (for



304 THE LIFE OF

PART make such a suit to him : upon which the chancellor

VI.

told him all that had passed between O'Neile and



1655. jjim ; and that for many reasons he declined the re-
ceiving that obligation from the princess ; and there-
fore he had no use of his majesty's favour in it.
The king told him plainly, that " his sister, upon
" having seen his daughter some days, liked her so
" well, that she desired to have her about her per-
" son ; and had herself spoken to him to move it to
" her, for the reason aforesaid, and to prevent any
*' displeasure from the queen ; and he knew not how
" the chancellor could, or why he should, omit such
" an opportunity of providing for his daughter in so
The chan- " honourable a way. " The chancellor told him,
answer. " he could not dispute the reasons with him ; only
" that he could not give himself leave to deprive his
" wife of her daughter's company, nor believe that
" she could be more advantageously bred than un-
His dis- " der her mother. " Hereupon he went to the
rincess princess, and took notice of the honour she was in-
clined to do him ; but, he told her, the honour was
not fit for him to receive, nor the conjuncture sea-
sonable for her royal highness to confer it ; that she
could not but know his condition, being deprived of
his estate; and if her highness's bounty had not
assigned a house at Breda, where his wife and fa-
mily lived rent free, they had not known how to
have subsisted : but by that her favour, the small
supplies his friends in England secretly sent over to
them sustained them in that private retirement in
which they lived ; so that it was not in his power to
make his daughter such an allowance as would en-
able her to live in her court in that manner as would
become her relation.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 305
The princess would not permit him to enlarge; PART



VI.



but very generously told him, that she knew well

1 f> r

the straitness of his condition, and how it came to
be so low ; and had no thought that he should be at
the charge to maintain his daughter in her service ;
that he should leave that to her : and so used many
expressions of esteem of him, and of kindness and
grace to his daughter. He, foreseeing and ex-
pecting such generosity, replied to her, that since
her goodness disposed her to such an act of charity
and honour, it became his duty and gratitude to
provide, that she should bring no inconvenience
upon herself; that he had the misfortune (with all
the innocence and integrity imaginable) to be more
in the queen her mother's disfavour, than any gen-
tleman who had had the honour to serve the crown
so many years in some trust \ that all the applica-
tion he could make, nor the king's own interposition,
could prevail with her majesty to receive him into
her gracious opinion ; and that he could not but
know, that this unseasonable act of charity, which
her highness would vouchsafe to so ungracious a
family, would produce some resentment and dis-
pleasure from the queen her mother towards her
highness, and increase the weight of her severe in-
dignation against him, which so heavily oppressed
him already ; and therefore he resolved to prevent
that mischief, which would undoubtedly befall her
highness ; and would not submit to the receiving
the fruits of her favourable condescension.

To this the princess answered with some warmth,
that she had always paid that duty to the queen her
mother which was due to her, and would never give
her a just cause to be offended with her : but that

VOL. i. x



306 THE LIFE OF

PART she was mistress of her own family, and might re-
ceive what servants she pleased ; and that she should



I xe t

commit a great fault against the queen, if she should
forbear to do a good and a just action, to which she
was inclined, out of apprehension that her majesty
would be offended at it.
She said, she knew some
ill offices had been done him to her mother, for
which she was sorry; and doubted not, but her
majesty would in due time discern that she had
been misinformed and mistaken; and then she would
like and approve of what her highness should now
do. In the mean time she was resolved to take his
daughter, and would send for her as soon as she
returned into Holland. The chancellor, not in any
degree converted, but confounded with the gracious
and frank discourse of the princess royal, knew not
what more to say ; replied only, that he hoped her
highness would think better of what she seemed to
undervalue, and that he left his daughter to be dis-
posed of by her mother, who he knew would be very
unwilling to part with her ; upon which her high-
ness answered, " I'll warrant you, my lady and I
" will agree upon the matter. " To conclude this
discourse, which, considering what fell out after-
wards, is not impertinent to be remembered; he
knew his wife had no inclination to have her daugh-
ter out of her own company ; and when he had by
letter informed her of all that had passed, he endea-
voured to confirm her in that resolution : but when
the princess, after her return into Holland, sent to
her, and renewed her gracious offer, she, upon con-
sultation with Dr. Morley, (who upon the old friend-
ship between the chancellor, and him, chose in his
banishment, from the murder of the king, to make



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 307

his residence for the most part in his family, and PART
was always perfectly kind to all his interests,) be-.



lieved it might prove for her daughter's benefit, and 1655>
writ to her husband her opinion, and that the doctor
concurred in the same.

The chancellor looked upon the matter itself, and
all the circumstances thereof, as having some marks
of divine Providence, which he would not resist, and
so referred it wholly to his wife ; who when she had
presented her daughter to the princess, came herself His wife ac -

& r > cepts the

to reside with her husband, to his great comfort ; offer, and

presents tier

and which he could not have enjoyed if the other daughter to
separation had not been made; and possibly that thepm
consideration had the more easily disposed her to
consent to the other. We have now set down all
the passages and circumstances which accompanied
or attended that lady's first promotion to the service
of the princess royal ; which the extreme averseness
in her father and mother from embracing that op-
portunity, and the unusual grace and importunity
from them who conferred the honour being consi-
dered, there may appear to many an extraordinary
operation of Providence in giving the first rise to
what afterwards succeeded ; though of a nature so
transcendent, as cannot be thought to have any re-
lation to it.

After an unsuccessful insurrection of some of
the king's friends in England, Cromwell exercised
the utmost severity and cruelty against them ; put-
ting many to death, and transporting others as
slaves to Barbadoes ; and by his own authority,
and that of his council, made an order, that all
persons who had ever borne arms for, or declared
themselves of, the royal party, should be decimated;

x 2



308 THE LIFE OF

PART that is, pay a tenth part of all the estate they had
ty to support the charge of the commonwealth ;



li55. and published a declaration to justify his proceed-
pubiishesa ings, (Hist, of the Reb. 8vo. vol. vii. p. 129 to 162. )
justifying which confidently set down such maxims, as made
decimating r it manifest to all who had ever served the king, or
would not submit to Cromwell's power and govern-
ment, that they had nothing that they could call
their own, but must be disposed of at his pleasure ;
which as much concerned all other parties as the
king's, in the consequence *.

This declaration, as soon as printed, was sent

over to Cologne, where the king then was, and the

TO which chancellor was commanded by the king to write

the chancel-
lor by the some discourse upon it, to awaken the people, and

mand* writes shew them their concernment in it; which he did



an answer.



by way of " a Letter to a Friend ;" which was like-
wise sent into England, and there printed; and
when Cromwell called his next parliament, it was
made great use of to inflame the people, and make
them sensible of the destruction that attended them;
and was thought then to produce many good effects,
conclusion. And so we conclude this part.

Montpelier, May 27, 1670.

1656 The seventh and last part of the manuscript is
1660 dated at Montpelier, August 1, 1670, and con-

' in the consequence] MS. would have given his majesty

adds: though for the present the least assistance, and were

none but that party underwent only reputed to be of the king's

that insupportable burden of party, because they had not as-

the decimation, which brought sisted the rebels to any consi-

in a vast incredible sum of mo- derable" proportion, but had a

ney into his coffers, the greater good mind to have sat neuters,

part whereof was raised upon and not to be at any charge

those who never did, nor ever with reference to either party.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 309

tinues the history from the king's residence at Co- PART
logne, to the restoration of the royal family in



1660; containing the substance of what is printed 1656
in the two last books of The History of the Rebel- jfigo
lion. The only remarkable circumstance of the
author's life during that period is, that in the
year 1657, while the king was at Bruges, his ma-
jesty appointed the chancellor of the exchequer to
be lord high chancellor of England; and delivered
the great seal into his custody, upon the death of
sir Edward Herbert, the last lord keeper thereof .
Hist, of the Reb. 8vo. vol. vii. p. 167506.



X 3



THE

CONTINUATION



OF



THE LIFE

OF

EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON,

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND,

AND

CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD ;



THE RESTORATION IN 1660, TO HIS BANISHMENT
IN 1667.



x4



THE

CONTINUATION

OF

THE LIFE ;

OF

EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON.



Moulins, June 8, 1672.

Reflections upon the most material passages which hap-
pened after the king's restoration to the time of the
chancellor's banishment; out of which his children, for
whose information they are only collected, may add some
important passages to his Life, as the true cause of his
misfortunes.

X HE easy and glorious reception of the king, in 1 660.



the manner that hath been mentioned, without any The au-
other conditions than what had been frankly offered fe c e r . spre
by himself in his declaration and letters from Breda ;
the parliament's casting themselves in a body at his
feet, in the minute of his arrival at Whitehall, with
all the professions of duty and submission imagin-
able ; and no man having authority there, but they
who had either eminently served the late king, or
who were since grown up out of their nonage from
such fathers, and had throughly manifested their
fast fidelity to his present majesty; the rest, who



CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. had been enough criminal, shewing more animosity
~~ towards the severe punishment of those, who having
more power in the late times had exceeded them in
mischief, than care for their own indemnity : this
temper sufficiently evident, and the universal joy of
the people, which was equally visible, for the total
suppression of all those who had so many years ex-
ercised tyranny over them, made most men believe,
both abroad and at home, that God had not only
restored the king miraculously to his throne, but
that he had, as he did in the time of Hezekiah,
" prepared the people, for the thing was done sud-
" denly," (2 Chron. xxix. 36. ) in such a manner that
his authority and greatness would have been more
illustrious than it had been in any of his ancestors.
And it is most true, and must never be denied, that
the people were admirably a disposed and prepared
to pay all the subjection, duty, and obedience, that
a just and prudent king could expect from them,
and had a very sharp aversion and detestation of
all those who had formerly misled and corrupted
them ; so that, except the general, who seemed to
be possessed entirely of the affection of the army,
and whose fidelity was now above any misappre-
hension, there appeared no man whose power and
interest could in any degree shake or endanger the
peace and security the king was in ; the congratu-
lations for his return being so universal from all the
counties of England, as well as from the parliament
and city ; from all those who had most signally dis-
served and disclaimed him, as well as from those of
his own party, and those who were descended from
them : insomuch as the king was wont merrily to
a admirably] so admirably



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 315

say, as hath been mentioned before, " that it could 1660.
" be nobody's fault but his own that he had stayed
" so long abroad, when all mankind wished him so
" heartily at home. " It cannot therefore but be
concluded by the standers-by, and the spectators of
this wonderful change and exclamation of all de-
grees of men, that there must be some wonderful
miscarriages in the state, or some unheard of defect
of understanding in those who were trusted by the
king in the administration of his affairs ; that there
could in so short a time be a new revolution in the
general affections of the people,- that they grew even
weary of that happiness they were possessed of and
had so much valued, and fell into the same discon-
tents and murmurings which had naturally accom-
panied them in the worst times. From what fatal
causes these miserable effects were produced, is the
business of this present disquisition to examine, and
in some degree to discover ; and therefore must be
of such a nature, as must be as tenderly handled,
with reference to things and persons, as the disco-
very of the truth will permit ; and cannot be pre-
sumed to be intended ever for a public view, or for
more than the information of his children of the true
source and grounds from whence their father's mis-
fortunes proceeded, in which nothing can be found
that can make them ashamed of his memory.

The king brought with him from beyond the seas
that council which had always attended him, and
whose advice he had always received in his trans-
actions of greatest importance ; and his small fa-
mily, that consisted of gentlemen who had for the
most part been put about him by his father, and



316 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1 660. constantly waited upon his person in all his distress h ,

"with as much submission and patience undergoing

their part in it, as could reasonably be expected

from such a people; and therefore had the keener

appetites, and the stronger presumption to push on

their fortunes (as they called it) in the infancy of

their master's restoration, that other men might not

be preferred before them, who had not " borne the

" heat of the day," as they had done.

The king's Qf t ne council were the chancellor, the marquis

council at *

the restore- of Ormond, the lord Colepepper, and secretary Ni-
cholas, who lived in great unity and concurrence
in the communication of the most secret counsels.
There had been more of his council abroad with
him, who, according to the motions he made, and
the places he had resided in, were sometimes with
him, but other remained in France, or in some parts
of Holland and Flanders, for their convenience,
ready to repair to his majesty when they should be
called. The four nominated above were they who
constantly attended, were privy to all counsels, and
waited upon him in his return.

Lord chan- T ne chancellor was the highest in place, and

cellorHyde.

thought to be so in trust, because he was most in
private with the king, had managed most of the se-
cret correspondence in England, and all despatches
of importance had passed through his hands ; which
had hitherto been with the less envy, because the
indefatigable pains he took were very visible, and
it was as visible that he gained nothing by it. His
wants and necessities were as great as any man's,
nor was the allowance assigned to him by the king

b distress] distresses



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 317

in the least degree more, or better paid, than every 1 660.
one of the council received. Besides, the friendship
was so entire between the marquis of Ormond and
him, that no arts that were used could dissolve it ;
and it was enough known, that as he had an entire
and full confidence from the king, and a greater
esteem than any man, so, that the chancellor so en-
tirely communicated all particulars with him, that
there was not the least resolution taken without his
privity and approbation. The chancellor had been
employed by the last king in all the affairs of the
greatest trust and secrecy ; had been made privy
counsellor and chancellor of the exchequer in the
very beginning of the troubles ; and had been sent
by that king into the west with his son, when he
thought their interest would be best preserved and
provided for by separating their persons. A greater
testimony and recommendation a servant could not
receive from his master, than the king gave of him
to the prince, who from that time treated him with
as much affection and confidence as any man, and
which (notwithstanding very powerful opposition) he
continued and improved to this time of his restora-
tion ; and even then rejected some intimations ra-
ther than propositions, which were secretly made to
him at the Hague, that the chancellor was a man
very much in the prejudice of the presbyterian
party, as in truth he was, and therefore that his
majesty would do best to leave him behind, till he
should be himself settled in England : which the
king received with that indignation and disdain,
and answered the person, who privately presumed
to give the advice, in such a manner, that he was
troubled no more with the importunity, nor did any



318 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. man ever own the advice. Yet the chancellor had
besought the king, upon some rumours which had
been spread, that if any exception or prejudice to
his person should be so insisted on, as might delay
his return one hour, he would decline giving him
any protection, till he should find it more in his
power, after his arrival in England : which desire of
his, though it found no reception with the king,
proceeded from so much sincerity, that it is well
known the chancellor did positively resolve, that if
any such thing had been urged by any authority, he
would render the king's indulgence and grace of no
inconvenience to his majesty, by his secret and vo-
luntary withdrawing himself, without his privity,
and without the reach of his discovery for some
time : so far he was from being biassed by his own
particular benefit and advantage.
The mar- T ne marquis of Ormond was the person of the

quis of

Ormond. greatest quality, estate, and reputation, who had
frankly engaged his person and his fortune in the
king's service from the first hour of the troubles, and
pursued it with that courage and constancy, that
when the king was murdered, and he deserted by
the Irish, contrary to the articles of the peace which
they had made with him, and when he could make
no longer defence, he refused all the conditions
which Cromwell offered, who would have given him
all his vast estate, if he would have been contented
to have lived quietly in some of his own houses,
without further concerning himself in the quarrel ;
and transported himself, without so much as accept-
ing a pass from his authority, in a little weak vessel
into France, where he found the king, from whom
he never parted till he returned with him into Eng-



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 319

land. And having thus merited as much as a sub- 1660.
ject can do from a prince, he had much more credit "~
and esteem with the king than any other man : and
the lustre the chancellor was in, was no less from
the declared friendship the marquis had for him,
than from the great trust his majesty reposed in
him.

The lord Colepepper was a man of great parts,



. . -I 1 -i Colepepper.

very sharp and present wit, and an universal under-
standing ; so that few men filled a place in council
with more sufficiency, or expressed themselves upon
any subject that occurred with more weight and
vigour. He had been trusted by the late king
(who had a singular opinion of his courage and
other abilities) to wait upon the prince when he left
his father, and continued still afterwards with him,
or in his service, and in a good correspondence with
the chancellor.

Secretary Nicholas was a man of general good Secretary
reputation with all men, of unquestionable integrity
and long experience in the service of the crown ;
whom the late king trusted as much as any man to
his death. He was one of those who were excepted
by the parliament from pardon or composition, and
so was compelled to leave the kingdom shortly after
Oxford was delivered up, when the king was in
the hands of the Scots. The present king con-
tinued him in the office of secretary of state, which
he had so long held under his father. He was a
man of great gravity, and without any ambitious or
private designs ; and had so fast a friendship with
the chancellor for many years, that he was very well
content, and without any jealousy for his making
many despatches and other transactions, which more



320 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. immediately related to his office, and which indeed
"were always made with his privity and concurrence.
This was the state and constitution of the king's
council and his family, when he embarked in Hol-
land, and landed at Dover : the additions and alter-
ations which were after made will be mentioned in
their place.

It will be convenient here, before we descend to
those particulars which had an influence upon the
minds of men, to take a clear view of the temper
and spirit of that time ; of the nature and inclination
of the army ; of the disposition and interest of the
several factions in religion ; all which appeared in
their several colours, without dissembling their prin-
ciples, and with equal confidence demanded the li-
berty of conscience they had enjoyed in and since
the time of Cromwell ; and the humour and the pre-
sent purpose and design of the parliament itself, to
whose judgment and determination the whole settle-
ment of the kingdom, both in church and state,
stood referred by the king's own declaration from
Breda, which by God's inspiration had been the sole
visible motive to that wonderful change that had en-
The tem- sued. And whosoever takes a prospect of all those
rit'oftha? 1 "several passions and appetites and interests, toge-
time. ther w jth t ne divided affections, jealousies, and ani-
mosities of those who had been always looked upon
as the king's party, which, if united, would in that
conjuncture have been powerful enough to have ba-
lanced all the other ; I say, whoever truly and inge-
nuously considers and reflects upon all this com-
position of contradictory wishes and expectations,
must confess that the king was not yet the master
of the kingdom, nor his authority and security such



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 321

as the general noise and acclamation, the bells and
the bonfires, proclaimed it to be; and that there was
in no conjuncture more need, that the virtue and
wisdom and industry of a prince should be evident,
and made manifest in the preservation of his dignity,
and in the application of his mind to the govern-
ment of his affairs ; and that all who were eminently
trusted by him should be men of unquestionable
sincerity, who with industry and dexterity should
first endeavour to compose the public disorders, and
to provide for the peace and settlement of the king-
dom, before they applied themselves to make or im-
prove their own particular fortunes. And there is
little question, but if this good method had been
pursued, and the resolutions of that kind, which the
king had seriously taken beyond the seas, when he
first discerned his good fortune coming towards him,
had been executed and improved; the hearts and
affections of all degrees of men were so prepared by
their own natural inclinations and integrity, by what
they had seen and what they had suffered, by their
observations and experience, by their fears, or by
their hopes ; that they might have been all kneaded
into a firm and constant obedience c and resignation
to the king's authority, and to a lasting establish-
ment of monarchic power, in all the just extents
which the king could expect, or men of any public
or honest affections could wish or submit to.

The first mortification the king met with was as importu-

. . _ . . nate solici-

soon as he arrived at Canterbury, which was within



three hours after he landed at Dover; and where JJ,,'

he found many of those who were justly looked ^'^ b a >'_



ists.



c a firm and constant obedience] as firm and constant an obedience
VOL. I. Y



322 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF
1660. upon, from their own sufferings or those of their



fathers, and their constant adhering to the same
principles, as of the king's party; who with joy
waited to kiss his hand, and were received by him
with those open arms and flowing expressions of
grace, calling all those by their names who were
known to him, that they easily assured themselves
of the accomplishment of all their desires from such
a generous prince. And some of them, that they
might not lose the first opportunity, forced him to
give them present audience, in which they reckoned
up the insupportable losses undergone by themselves
or their fathers, and some services of their own ; and
thereupon demanded the present grant or promise
of such or such an office. Some, for the real small
value of one, though of the first classis, pressed for
two or three with such confidence and importunity,
and with such tedious discourses, that the king was
extremely nauseated with their suits, though his
modesty knew not how to break from them ; that
he no sooner got into his chamber, which for some
hours he was not able to do, than he lamented the
condition to which he found he must be subject ;
and did in truth from that minute contract such a
prejudice against the persons of some of those, though
of the greatest quality, for the indecency and incon-
gruity of their pretences, that he never afterwards
received their addresses with his usual grace or
patience, and rarely granted any thing they desired,
though the matter was more reasonable, and the
manner of asking much more modest.
Monk re- B u t there was another mortification, which im-

commends . .

a list of mediately succeeded this, that gave him much more
Si? ! * the trouble, and in which he knew not how to comport

king.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 323

himself. The general, after he had given all neces- 1 660.
sary orders to his troops, and sent a short despatch ~~
to the parliament of the king's being come to Can-
terbury, and of his purpose to stay there two days,
till the next Sunday was passed, he came to the
king in his chamber, and in a short secret audience,
and without any preamble or apology, as he was not
a man of a graceful elocution, he told him, " that he
" could not do him better service, than by recom-
" mending to him such persons who were most
" grateful to the people, and in respect of their
" parts and interests were best able to serve him;"
and thereupon gave him a large paper full of names,
which the king in disorder enough received, and
without reading put it into his pocket, that he
might not enter into any particular debate upon the
persons ; and told him, " that he would be always
" ready to receive his advice, and willing to gratify
" him in any thing he should desire, and which
" would not be prejudicial to his service. " The .
king, as soon as he could, took an opportunity,
when there remained no more in his chamber, to
inform the chancellor of the first assaults he had
encountered as soon as he alighted out of his coach,
and afterwards of what the general had said to him ;
and thereupon took the paper out of his pocket and
read it. It contained the names of at least three-
score and ten persons, who were thought fittest to
be made privy counsellors; in the whole number
whereof, there were only two who had ever served
the king, or been looked upon as zealously affected
to his service, the marquis of Hertford and the earl
of Southampton ; who were both of so universal
reputation and interest, and so well known to have

Y 2



324 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. the very particular esteem of the king, that they
"needed no such recommendation. All the rest were
either those counsellors who had served the king,
and deserted him by adhering to the parliament ; or
of those who had most eminently disserved him in
the beginning of the rebellion, and in the carrying
it on with all fierceness and animosity, until the new
model, and dismissing the earl of Essex : then, in-
deed, Cromwell had grown terrible to them, and
disposed them to wish the king were again possessed
of his regal power ; and which they did but wish.
There were then the names of the principal persons
of the presbyterian party, to which the general was
thought to be most inclined, at least to satisfy the
foolish and unruly inclinations of his wife. There
were likewise the names of some who were most
notorious in all the other factions ; and of some who,
in respect of their mean qualities and meaner quali-
fications, nobody could imagine how they could come
to be named, except that by the very odd mixture
any sober and wise resolutions and concurrence
might be prevented,
with which The king was in more than ordinary confusion

he is dis-
pleased, with the reading this paper, and knew not well

what to think of the general, in whose absolute
power he now was. However, he resolved in the
entrance upon his government not to consent to
such impositions, which might prove perpetual fet-
ters and chains upon him ever after. He gave the
paper therefore to the chancellor, and bade him
" take the first opportunity to discourse the matter
" with the general," (whom he had not yet saluted,)
" or rather with Mr. Morrice, his most intimate
" friend ;" whom he had newly presented to the



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 325

king, and " with both whom he presumed he would 1660.
" shortly be acquainted," though for the present ~~
both were equally unknown to him. Shortly after,
when mutual visits had passed between them, and
such professions as naturally are made between per-
sons who are like to have much to do with each
other, and Mr. Morrice being in private with him,,
the chancellor told him " how much the king was
" surprised with the paper he had received from the
" general, which at least recommended (and which
" would have always great authority with him) some
" such persons to his trust, in whom he could not
" yet, till they were better known to him, repose
" any confidence. " And thereupon he read many of
their names, and said, " that if such men were made
" privy counsellors, it would either be imputed to
" the king's own election, which would cause a very
" ill measure to be taken of his majesty's nature and
" judgment ; or (which more probably would be the
" case) to the inclination and power of the general,
" which would be attended with as ill effects. " Mr.
Morrice seemed much troubled at the apprehension,,
and said, " the paper was of his handwriting, by the
" general's order, who, he was assured, had no such
" intention ; but that he would presently speak with
" him and return ;" which he did within less than
an hour, and expressed " the trouble the general
"was in upon the king's very just exception; and
" that the truth was, he had been obliged to have
" much communication with men of all humours
" and inclinations, and so had promised to do them
" good offices to the king, and could not therefore
" avoid inserting their names in that paper, without
" any imaginations that the king would accept them;

Y 3



326 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. "that he had done his part, and all that could be
~ " expected from him, and left the king to do what
" he had thought best for his own service, which he
" would always desire him to do, whatever proposi-
" tion he should at any time presume to make to his
" majesty, which he would not promise should be al-
" ways reasonable. However, he did still heartily
" wish that his majesty would make use of some of
" those persons," whom he named, and said, " he
" knew most of them were not his friends, and that
" his service would be more advanced by admitting
" them, than by leaving them out. "

was abundantly pleased with this good



Monk's ex- temper of the general, and less disliked those who
he discerned would be grateful to him than any of
the rest : and so the next day he made the general
knight of the garter, and admitted him of the coun-
cil ; and likewise at the same time gave the signet
to Mr. Morrice, who was sworn of the council, and
secretary of state ; and sir Anthony Ashley Cooper,
who had been presented by the general under a spe-
cial recommendation, was then too sworn of the
council ; and the rather, because having lately mar-
ried the niece of the earl of Southampton, (who was
then likewise present, and received the garter, to
which he had been elected some years before,) it was
believed that his slippery humour would be easily
. restrained and fixed by the uncle. All this was

transacted during his majesty's stay at Canterbury.
SUm'hlnt Upon the 29th of May, which was his majesty's
entry into birthday, and now d the day of his restoration and
triumph, he entered London the highway from Ro-

d now] now again



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 327

Chester to Blackheath, being on both sides so full of 1660.
acclamations of joy, and crowded with such a multi-~
tude of people, that it seemed one continued street
wonderfully inhabited. Upon Blackheath the arm^
was drawn up, consisting of above fifty thousand
men, horse and foot, in excellent order and equi-
page, where the general presented the chief officers
to kiss the king's hands, which grace they seemed to
receive with all humility and cheerfulness. Shortly
after, the lord mayor of London, the sheriffs, and
body of the aldermen, with the whole militia of the
city, appeared with great lustre ; whom the king
received with a most graceful and obliging counte-
nance, and knighted the mayor, and all the alder-
men, and sheriffs, and the principal officers of the
militia : an honour the city had been without near
eighteen years, and therefore abundantly welcome
to the husbands and their wives. With this equi-
page the king was attended through the city of
London, where the streets were railed in on both
sides, that the livery of the e companies of the city
might appear with the more order and decency, till
he came to Whitehall ; the windows all the way be-
ing full of ladies and persons of quality, who were
impatient to fill their eyes with a beloved spectacle,
of which they had been so long deprived. The king
was no sooner at Whitehall, but (as hath been said)
the speakers and both houses of parliament pre-
sented themselves with all possible professions of
duty and obedience at his royal feet, and were even
ravished with the cheerful reception they had from
him. The joy was universal ; and whosoever was

e of the] of all the
Y 4



3528 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1 660. not pleased at heart, took the more care to appear

Excessive as ^ ne was ' an( ^ no v i ce was heard but of the
joy upon highest congratulation, of extolling the person of

the restora- &

tion. the king, admiring his condescensions and affability,
raising his praises to heaven, and cursing and de-
testing the memory of those villains who had so
long excluded so meritorious a prince, and thereby
withheld that happiness from them, which they
should enjoy in the largest measure they could de-
sire or wish. The joy on all sides was with the
greatest excess, so that most men thought, and had
reason enough' to think, that the king was even al-
ready that great and glorious prince which the par-
liament had wantonly and hypocritically promised
to raise his father to be.

Both houses The chancellor took his place in the house of peers

menTmeet. with a general acceptation and respect ; and all those
lords who were alive and had served the king his fa-
ther, and the sons of those who were dead and were
equally excluded from sitting there by ordinances of
parliament, together with all those who had been cre-
ated by this king, took their seats in parliament with-

The charac- out the least murmur or exception. The house of

ter of the , . _, . , , . -

house of commons seemed equally constituted to what could
>ns ' be wished ; for though there were many presbyterian
members, and some of all other factions in religion,
who did all promise themselves some liberty and in-
dulgence for their several parties, yet they all pro-
fessed great zeal for the establishing the king in his
full power. And the major part of the house was of
sober and prudent men, who had been long known
to be very weary of all the late governments, and
heartily to desire and pray for the king's return.
And there were many who had either themselves



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 329

been actual and active malignants and delinquents 1660. .
in the late king's time, or the sons of such, who in-"~
herited their fathers virtues. Both which classes of
men were excluded from being capable of being
elected to serve in parliament, not only by former
ordinances, but by express caution in the very writs
which were sent out to summon this parliament ;
and were notwithstanding made choice of, and re-
turned by the country, and received without any
hesitation in the house, and treated by all men with
the more civility and respect for their known malig-
nity : so that the king, though it was necessary to
have patience in the expectations of their resolu-
tions in all important points, which could not sud-
denly be concluded in such a popular assembly, was
very reasonably assured, that he should have nothing
pressed upon him that should be ungrateful, with
reference to the church or state.

It is true, the presbyterians were very numer- Particularly
ous in the house, and many of them men of good byterian^
parts, and had a great party in the army, and a party 1D ltf
greater in the city, and, except with reference to
episcopacy, were desirous to make themselves grate-
ful to the king in the settling all his interest, and
especially in vindicating themselves from the odious
murder of the king by loud and passionate inveigh-
ing against that monstrous parricide, and with the
highest animosity denouncing the severest judg-
ments not only against those who were immediately
guilty of it, but against those principal persons who
had most notoriously adhered to Cromwell in the
administration of his government, that is, most emi-
nently opposed them and their faction. They took
all occasions to declare, " that the power and in-



330 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1 660- " terest of the party f had been the chief means to
bring home the king;" and used all possible en-
deavours that the king might be persuaded to think
so too, and that the very covenant had at last done
him good and expedited his return, by the causing
it to be hung up -in churches, from whence Crom-
well had cast it out; and their ministers pressing
upon the conscience of all those who had taken it,
" that they were bound by that clause which con-
" cerned the defence of the king's person, to take up
" arms, if need were, on his behalf, and to restore
** him to his rightful government ;" when the very
same ministers had obliged them to take up arms
against the king his father by virtue of that cove-
nant, and to fight against him till they had taken
him prisoner, which produced his murder. This
party was much displeased that the king declared
himself so positively on behalf of episcopacy, and
would hear no , other prayers in his chapel than
those contained in the Book of Common Prayer,
and that all those formalities and solemnities were
now again resumed and practised, which they had
caused to be abolished for so many years past. Yet
the king left all churches to their liberty, to use
such forms of devotion which they liked best ; and
such of their chief preachers who desired it, or were
desired by their friends, were admitted to preach
before him, even without the surplice, or any other
habit than they made choice of. But this conniv-
ance would not do their business; their preaching
made no proselytes who were not so before ; and
the resort of the people to those churches where the

f the party] their party



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 331

Common Prayer was again introduced, was evi- 1660.
dence enough of their inclinations ; and they saw ~~
the king's chapel always full of those who had used
to possess the chief benches in their assemblies ; so
that it was manifest that nothing but the supreme
authority would be able to settle their discipline :
and therefore, with their usual confidence, they were which
very importunate in the house of commons, " that settlement
" the ecclesiastical government might be settled and f j, c ^* ias
" remain according to the covenant, which had been Ternn nt

. according

" practised many years, and so the people generally to the c -
" well devoted to it ; whereas the introducing the
" Common Prayer (with which very few had ever
" been acquainted or heard it read) would very
" much offend the people, and give great interrup-
** tion to the composing the peace of the kingdom. "
This was urged in the house of commons by emi-
nent men of the party, who believed they had the
major part of their mind. And their preachers
were as solicitous and industrious to inculcate the
same doctrine to the principal persons who had re-
turned with the king, and every day resorted to the
court as if they presided there, and had frequent
audiences of the king to persuade him to be of the
same opinion ; from whom they received no other
condescensions than they had formerly had at the
Hague, with the same gracious affability and ex-
pressions to their persons.

That party in the house that was in truth devoted
to the king and to the old principles of church and
of state, which every day increased, thought not fit
so to cross the presbyterians, as to make them despe-
rate in their hopes of satisfaction ; but, with the
concurrence with those who were of contrary fac-



332 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. tions, diverted the argument by proposing other sub-

jects of more immediate relation to the public peace,

(as the act of indemnity, which every man impa-
tiently longed for, and the raising money towards
the payment of the army and the navy, without
which that insupportable charge could not be less-
ened,) to be first considered and despatched ; and
the model for religion to be debated and prepared
by that committee which had been nominated before
his majesty's return to that purpose ; they not doubt-
ing to cross and puzzle any pernicious resolutions
there, till time and their own extravagant follies
should put some end to their destructive designs.

In the mean time there were two particulars
which the king, with much inward impatience,
though with little outward communication, did most
desire ; the disbanding the army, and the settling
the revenue, the course and receipt whereof had
been so broken and perverted, and a great part ex-
tinguished by the sale of all the crown lands, that
the old officers of the exchequer, auditors or re-
ceivers, knew not how to resume their administra-
tions. Besides that the great receipt of excise and
customs was not yet vested in the king ; nor did the
parliament make any haste to assign it, finding it
necessary to reserve it in the old way, and not to
divert it from those assignments which had been
made for the payment of the army and navy ; for
which, until some other provision could be made, it
was to no purpose to mention the disbanding the
one or the other, though the charge of both was so
vast and insupportable, that the kingdom must in a
short time sink under the burden. For what con-
cerned the revenue and raising money, the king



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 333

was less solicitous; and yet there was not so much 1660.
as any assignation made for the support of his~
household, which caused a vast debt to be con-
tracted before taken notice of, the mischief of which
is hardly yet removed. He saw the parliament
every day doing somewhat in it; and it quickly
dissolved all bargains, contracts, and sales, which
had been of any of the crown lands, so that all that
royal revenue (which had been too much wasted and
impaired in those improvident times which had pre-
ceded the troubles) was entirely remitted to those to
whom it belonged, the king and the queen his mo- ^_
ther ; but very little money was returned out of the
same into the exchequer in the space of the first
year: so difficult it was to reduce any payments,
which had been made for so many years irregularly,
into the old channel and order. And every thing
else of this kind was done, how slowly soever, with
as much expedition as from s the nature of the af-
fair, and the crowd in which it was necessary to be
agitated, could h reasonably be expected ; and there-
fore his majesty was less troubled for those incon-
veniences which he foresaw must inevitably flow
from thence.

But the delay in disbanding the army, how una- The nature

111 1*1 1*1 /vi i 11 iilu ' inclina-

voidable soever, did exceedingly afflict him, and the tion of the
more, because for many reasons he could not urge it ari
nor complain of it. He knew well the ill constitu-
tion of the army, the distemper and murmuring that
was in it, and how many diseases and convulsions
their infant loyalty was subject to ; that how united
soever their inclinations and acclamations seemed

8 from] Not in MS. h could] as could



334 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. to be at Blackheath, their affections were not the
same : and the very countenances then of many offi-
cers as well as soldiers did sufficiently manifest, that
they were drawn thither to a service they were not
delighted in. The general, before he had formed
any resolution to himself, and only valued himself
upon the presbyterian interest, had cashiered some
regiments and companies which he knew not to be
devoted to his person and greatness ; and after he
found it necessary to fix his own hopes and depend-
ence upon the king, he had dismissed many officers
who he thought might be willing and able to cross
his designs and purposes when he should think fit to
discover them, and conferred their charges and com-
mands upon those who had been disfavoured by the
late powers ; and after the parliament had declared
for and proclaimed the king, he cashiered others,
and gave their offices to some eminent commanders
who had served the king ; and gave others of the
loyal nobility leave to list volunteers in companies
to appear with them at the reception of the king,
who had all ' l met and joined with the army upon
Blackheath in the head of their regiments and com-
panies : yet, notwithstanding all this providence, the
old soldiers had little regard for their new officers,
at least had no resignation for them ; and it quickly
appeared, by the select and affected mixtures of sul-
len and melancholic parties of officers and soldiers,
that as ill-disposed men of other classes were left as
had been disbanded ; and that much the greater
part so much abounded with ill humours, that it
was not safe to administer a general purgation. It

' who had all] all who had



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 335

is true that Lambert was close prisoner in the 1660.
Tower, and as many of those officers who were" 1
taken and had appeared in arms with him when he
was taken were likewise there, or in some other
prisons, with others of the same complexion, who
were well enough known to have the present settle-
ment that was intended in perfect detestation : but
this leprosy was spread too far to have the conta-
gion quickly or easily extinguished. How close
soever Lambert himself was secured from doing
mischief, his faction was at liberty, and very nu-
merous ; his disbanded officers and soldiers mingled
and conversed with their old friends and compan-
ions, and found too many of them possessed with
the same spirit; they concurred in the same re-
proaches and revilings of the general, as the man
who had treacherously betrayed them, and led them
into an ambuscade from whence they knew not how
to disentangle themselves. They looked upon him
as the sole person who still supported his own model,
and were well assured that if he were removed, the
army would be still the same, and appear in their
old retrenchments ; and therefore they entered into
several combinations to assassinate him, which they
resolved to do with the first opportunity. In a
word, they liked neither the mien nor garb nor
countenance of the court, nor were wrought upon
by the gracious aspect and benignity of the king
himself.

All this was well enough known to his majesty,
and to the general, who was well enough acquainted
and not at all pleased with the temper and disposi-
tion of his army, and therefore no less desired it
should be disbanded than the king did. In the



336 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660. mean time, very diligent endeavours were used to
~~ discover and apprehend some principal persons, who
took as much care to conceal themselves ; and every
day many dangerous or suspected men of all quali-
ties were imprisoned in all counties : spies were em-
ployed, who for the most part had the same affec-
tions which they were to discover in others, and re-
ceived money on both sides to do, and not to do, the
work they were appointed to do. And in this me-
lancholic and perplexed condition the king and all
his hopes stood, when he appeared most gay and ex-
alted, and wore a pleasantness in his face that be-
came him, and looked like as full an assurance of
his security as was possible to be put on.
Disunion of There was yet added to this slippery and uneasy

the king's . . ,. .

friends. posture of affairs, another mortification, which made
a deeper impression upon the king's spirit than all
the rest, and without which the worst of the other
would have been in some degree remediable; that
was, the constitution and disunion of those who
were called and looked upon as his own party,
which without doubt in the whole kingdom was
numerous enough, and capable of being powerful
enough to give the law to all the rest ; which had
been the ground of many unhappy attempts in the
late time ; that if any present force could be drawn
together, and possessed of any such place in which
they might make a stand without being overrun in
a moment, the general concurrence of the kingdom
would in a short time reduce the army, and make
the king superior to all his enemies ; which imagi-
nation was enough confuted, though not enough ex-
tinguished, by the dearbought. experience in the
woful enterprise at Worcester. However, it had



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 337

been now a very justifiable presumption in the king, icco.
to believe as well as hope, that he could not be long ~
in England without such an apparency of his own
party, that wished all that he himself desired, and
such a manifestation of their authority, interest, and
power, that would prevent, or be sufficient to sub-
due, any froward disposition that might grow up in
the parliament, or more extravagant demands in the
army itself. An apparence there was of that people,
great enough, who had all the wishes for the king
which he entertained for himself. But they were A review of
so divided and disunited by private quarrels, fac-thisdis-*
tions, and animosities; or so unacquainted with each ""^ s n t ^," ie
other; or, which was worse, so jealous of each other ; restoration -
the understandings and faculties of many honest
men were so weak and shallow, that they could not
be applied to any great trust; and others, who
wished and meant very well, had a peevishness,
frowardness, and opiniatrety, that they would be
engaged only in what pleased themselves, nor would
join in any thing with such and such men whom
they disliked. The severe and tyrannical govern-
ment of Cromwell and the parliament had so often
banished and imprisoned them upon mere jealousies,
that they were grown strangers to one another,
without any communication between them : and
there had been so frequent betrayings and treach-
eries used, so many discoveries of meetings privately
contrived, and of discourses accidentally entered
into, and words and expressions rashly and unad-
visedly uttered without any design, upon which
multitudes were still imprisoned and many put . to
death ; that k the jealousy was so universal, that

k that] so that
VOL. I. Z



338 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1660.