j^>3 ^HE BisHOis Committed to the Tower.— An Episode in the Kevolution of 1688, [See Ol )K OF EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. A BOOK OF Wi^moxnhU gavjs ^nA ^otuhU gui^wts. /^'' > ^ JVITJI NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. NEW YORK: W. H. STELLE & COMPANY, 697 BROADWAY COPYRIGHI , l5S3. By H. C. SAKDIFER. 32 103. -?js PREFACE. HE popular narratives embodied in this volume are brief but complete descriptions of the most important events in the history of our own and other countries in later times. No hard and fast line has been followed in the arrangement of these sketches, which are of uniform length and of a most catholic character. The Epochs of History include many stirring scenes and peace- ful records. The successes of arms, the records of political events, the triumphs of industry in the lives of warriors and statesmen of modern times, will be found faithfully recorded and picturesquely treated. Each event has been treated completely in connection with its causes and its consequences, the long succession of word-pictures being studied from separate standpoints, until the best combination of the collected series has been attained. Thus it will be perceived that the Editor has not arrived at producing a volume of history of any particular period, nor has he followed any sequence of events, while each episode will be found linked with its pre- decessors and followers by an almost imperceptible thread of narrative, which completes the value of the collection. From Free Trade to the Temperance Movement — from the Forty-five to the struggle in the Crimea — from the Elizabethan Age to the era of Penny Newspapers and the ii PREFACE. Penny Post, the various events of European and American history will be easily traced amid the varied episodes narrated in this volume. The usefulness of such a work as this can scarcely be over-estimated as a book of reference and a historical record of most of the great events in the history of the civilized world in later times. Written in a cheerful narrative form, with careful references to recognized authorities, and without any of the dry character of mere historical compilation, the Epochs and Episodes which follow will, in their collected form, no doubt find favour with the public. The illustrations and portraits have been carefully selected, so as to add to the attraction and usefulness of the volume. The Editor. CONTENTS PAGE FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION . . • i A Field-Night in the Commons— Important Question — Rumoured change of Policy— Repeated Surprises— A Lion in the Path— Protection in Englaiid — The Corn Laws and their Introduction— Remonstrances of the People ; How Received — Protection to British Sailors and Shipping: How it Worked— Scarcity and its Effects — First Efforts against the Corn Laws — Esta- blishment of the Anti-Corn-Law League— The Free Traders in and out of Parliament— The Penny Post an Auxiliary- to Free Trade — A Pair of Friends — Richard Cobden and his Career — IMr. John Bright — The Melbourne Government : Its Apathy and its Fall — Erection of the Free Trade Hall in iNIanchester — In- dications of Change — The Queen's Speech of 1841 and its Forecast — Sir Robert Peel — Lord George Bentinck and the " Stable jNIind " — Peel's Reservation of Freedom of Action concerning the Corn Laws — Lord John Russell— Enlarged Operations of the League ; The first Free Trade Bazaar ; Its Brilliant Success — Deputations of Free Traders to Parliament ; — The Question pressed upon the House of Commons — Cob- den's Appeal to the Prime Minister — Dismay of the Protectionists — The Heat of the Battle — Zeal and Activity of the League— Important Recruits to the Free Trade Ranks — The Condition of the British Labourer — Remedies Proposed — Mr. Bright's De- scription of the Peasant's Lot — The Irish Famine — Triumph of Free Trade — Famine forcing Peel's Hand • — Summary and Conclusion. " THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS The Crusaders in Sight of Jerusalem— Cruelties In- flicted on Pilgrims to the Holy Land— Appeal of Peter the Hermit — Europe Roused to a Crusade — Capture of Antioch and Massacre by the Crusaders — Siege and Storming of Jerusalem — Horrible Slaughter by Godfrey of Bouillon and his Followers — Wor- shipping in the Church of the Sepulchre — The Latin Kingdom — Origin of the Hospitallers and Templars — The Knighthood of the Temple of Solomon — Insti- tution of the Order of the Knights Templars, and Rules drawn up by Bernard — Visit of the First Grand Master to England — Rapid development and Enor- mous Possessions of the Order — Battles in Palestine — Noureddin and Saladin — The Last Crusade — The Siege of Acre — Persecutions in England and France — Tortures and Executions — Heroic Conduct of the Knights — Horrible Accusations — Suppression of the Order and Confiscation of the Possessions. INDIA'S AGONY A Terrible Example — The "Company's" India; Con- quest and Misrule — Shaking the Pagoda-tree — Mutinies of the Last Century — A Danger Disre- garded — Sir Charles Napier's Opinion — A Policy of Annexation — The First Outbreak — The Greased Cartridges — Meerut — Delhi and the Great Mogul — Spread of the Mutiny — Prompt Action of Lord Can- ning — The Two Lawrences and Outram — Mean Meer — General Anson — Successive Commander.s — Delhi Retaken — Hodson and the Family of the Mogul — Nana Sahib of Bithoor — Cawnpore — The Massacre on the Ganges — The Turn of the Tide — Vengeance of Nana Sahib — Struggle in Oudh — Havelock and Outram — Lucknow — Sir Colin Campbell — Slaughter of the Rebels — " Lucknow" Kavanagh — Final Throes of the Mutiny — Bareilly — Transfer of India to the English Government — End of theEast India Company. THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND ... 49 A Typical Life — A Cambridge Fellow — Black Joan— Re- sult of a Supper Party— An Aged Martyr— Origin of the Revolution- Langland and the Lollards — Burning of Cobham— Printing Press— Dean Colet— The New Learning — The Christian Brethren— Squire Tracy's Will— Passion and Pope— Wolsey's Fall and Prophecy — Its Progress— Henry's Divorce — A Married Priest as Archbishop— Sir Thomas More— England governed by a Blacksmith's Son— A Memorable Parliament — Head of the English Church— The Black Book— Fall of the IMonasteries— Captain Cobbler — Pilgrimage of Grace— John Frith, the Genuine Martyr— The First English Confessions of Faith— English Bible in the Churches — Whip of Six Strings — Martyrdom of Lambert and Anne Askevv' — Progress of Edward's Reign— Book of Common Prayer— Catholic Reaction —The Inquisition— Sir John Cheke— Ihe Martyrs- Rogers, Hooper, Latimer, etc. — Smithfield — Protes- tant Recovery — Cecil and Parker— Catholic Attempts — The I'hirty-nine Articles. OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE 65 The Stuarts at St. Germains and in Italy— The "Old Pretender " in Italy — His Matrimonial Difficulties — "My Dear Clementina "—The so-called Prince of Wales and Duke of York — Their Love of Music- Prince Charles Edward at the Siege of Gaeta— French Encouragement to an Expedition — Collection of a Force at Dunkirk — The Condition of the Scottish Highlands — Paying for Peace — The Clan Act- Jacobite Agents — Departure of the Prince for France, and Narrow Escape— In Hiding at Gravelines — The Expedition to Scotland— Reception by the Highlan- ders — Personal Influence — "Bonnie Prince Charlie" —At Athol, Linlithgow, and Holyrood— The Battle of Prestonpans — Over the Border — To Derby and Back Again — Fatal Culloden — The " Butcher Cum- berland " — A Fugitive — Flora Macdonald— liscape to France — Incognito Visits to England — Death at Florence. •WILKES AND LIBERTY A Great Diplomatist and an Important Meeting — John Wilkes, the Best-abused Public Man of his Time- State of Affairs at the Death of George II.— The New King ; His Ideas of Royal Prerogative— A King's Favourite ; A Singular Prime Minister — A Lesson to Royalty— The Minister and his Novel Policy — A Government Press — The Biitou and the Auditor — Wilkes and his Early Career ; The Medmenham Uonks- The North Briton; The Famous Forty-fifth Num.ber— General Warrant— Wilkes committed to the Tower— Liberation of Wilkes; His First Triumph -Churchill— Lord Temple— Successful Actions — Personal Animosity of the King; Prosecution for a Profligate Book — Culprit and Accusers— '_' Jemmy Twitcher"- A Duel— Expulsion from Parliament — Public Agitation — Rockingham Administration — Middlesex Elections- Wilkes a Popular Hero— Perse- cution and its Consequences— Important Question- Freedom of Election— Release of Wilkes— His Return and Triumphs— His Last Years— Conclusion. THROUGH SLAUGHTER TO A THRONE . . An Important Day— The President's Ride through Paris —A Delusion Dispelled— At the Elyse'e— Who was responsible for the CouJ> d' Etat'i—'Vhe Strasburg Enterprise— The Bologne Expedition and its Conse- quences—Escape from Ham— Residence in London ; CONTENTS. PAGE Return to Paris in 1848 — Louis Napoleon, President — The Oath — " The Nephew of his Uncle " — Bidding for Popularity — De Morn}-, Maupas, Persigny, Fleury, St. Arnaud — Preparations for Striking the Blow ; the Army — The Proclamation of December 2nd — Seizure of Political Chiefs — The Army in Paris — Forcible Closing of the Assembly— Arrest of Members — Closing of the High Court of Justice — The Assembly carried away Captive — State of Paris ; Discouragement ; Committee of Resistance — Failure of the Struggle — Proceedings of the Government — The Cavalry Charge — The Massacre on the Boulevards — Details — Slaugh- ter of Non-Combatants — Success of the Coup d' Etat — Plebiscite — Testimony of an Impartial Witness — Public Feeling in England. METHODISM Great Movements and Reaction — England under George II. — Pioneers of the Revival — The Holy Club at O.xford— George Whitfield's Early Daj^s— Whit- field becomes a Preacher — Whitfield in London — The Countess of Huntingdon — The Wesleys — The Wes- leys become Itinerants — Spread of Methodism, Lay Preachers, Provincial Mobs — Illustrious Allies — Ireland, Scotland, Wales — Methodist Denominations -^General Results — Conclusion. FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL .... Russia in 1852 — The Emperor Nicholas ; His Power and Prosperity — The Czar and Sir Hamilton Seymour — Taking an Observation — Montenegro — The Czar's Protectorate — Mentschikoff's Mission — War between Russia and Turkey — Anglo-French Alliance for the Protection of the Porte — Omar Pasha and Oltenitza — Sinope — Commencement of the Crimean War — The Allied Forces and their Commanders : Raglan, St. Arnaud, Dundas, Lyons — Defeat of Russians on the Danube — Silistria and Giurgevo — The English, French, and Turkish Armies at Gallipoli and Varna ■ — Invasion of the Crimea — Landing at Eupatoria — March towards Sebastopol — The Battle of the Alma — March upon Balaclava — First Attack on Sebastopol — Battle of Balaclava — Charge of the Light Brigade — Newspaper Correspondents — Mr. Russell of "The Times" — Battle of Inkermann — Soldiership and Generalship — A Terrible Winter — An unexpected Event — The Baltic Fleet — Bomarsund and Hango — The Black Sea Fleet — Yenikale — Operations of 1855 — The iSth of June — Renewed Efforts, and Fall of Sebastopol — Conclusion. THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE 145 How the Bubble Rose — The South Sea Company — The Bait held out — John Law in France — The Mississippi Scheme — E.xcitement in Paris — Excesses and Specu- lations — Failure of the Mississippi Scheme — Fate of Law — Reverses — Plan to Pay the English National Debt — The Bank and the South Sea Company — ■ Passing of the Bill — The Race for Wealth — A Cloud of Bubbles — The South Sea Scheme in cxcelsis — The Beginning of the End — Fraud — A Falling off — Ruin and Retribution — Nemesis. WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY" CRY . 161 A Vast Meeting in St. George's Fields — Lord George Gordon — Other " Trojans " — Catholic Relief Bill, 1778 — The London Protestant Association — Coach- maker's Hall— The Mob in Palace Yard ; Their Behaviour — Peers and Bishops Assaulted — Scenes in the Commons — Goi'don Threatened — Friday Night — Chapels Attacked — Saturday's Grim Repose — Proba- ble Influence of the Weather—Sunday — Riot in Moorfields — Monday — Three Divisions of the Mob — Savile House Gutted — Edmund Burke the States- man — Tuesday — Scenes at the House — "Jemmy Twitcher " — Burning of Newgate — Richard Hyde and Barnaby Rud.Lje — BLirning of Mansfield's House — Clerkenwell Prison — Black Wednesday— Flight of Catholics — Dr. Johnson's Stroll — Langdale's Dis- tillery I'nnied — The Prisons Fired— Attacks on the Bank — London under Martial Law— Edward Dennis alias Jack Ketch — Thursday — After the Carnival — Trial of Lord George Gordon. SCOTLAND'S SORROW 177 A Troublous Period — King David and Edward Balliol — The Douglas Family — Accession of the Stuarts ; Chevy Chase — James I., the Royal Poet — James II. ; A Turbulent Vassal— James III.; Archibald Bell-the- Cat— James IV. ; Happy Auspices Unfulfilled— The Barton Family — A Gallant Fight — Causes of Quarrel between England and Scotland — Vigorous Measures of the Scottish King — A Mediajval Story — Hov/ James IV. prepared for War — Obstinacy of the King; The War Continued — The Opponent of James — Position of the Armies — Letter of Surrey to King James— The Plan of the Battle— The Battle of Floclden — The Decisive Moment ; Death of the King — Disastrous Nature of the Defeat — Alexander Stewart, Archbishop of St. Andrews ; Scotland's Day of Sorrow — Conclusion. THE PENNY NEWSPAPER . . . . : The Most Wonderful Pennyworth in the World — How did our Ancestors Exist when Newspapers were Few? — London News in the Country Parts — The Father of English Journalism — Nathaniel Butter Laughed at by Ben Jonson and Fletcher — Royalist and Parlia- mentary "Mercuries" — Origin of the Z^ by immoderate severity. "If any offending- member will not be amended by godly ad- monition and earnest reasoning, but will gO' on more and more lifting himself up with pride, then let him be cast out ; for it is necessary that the dying sheep should be removed from the society of the faithful brothers." Bernard finally thus encouraged the members of the Order : " Under Divine Providence, we do believe, this new kind of religion was introduced by you in the holy places, that is to say, the union of warfare with religion, so that religion, being armed, maketh her way by the sword, and smiteth the enemy without sin." The White and Red Cross Knights. The members of the Order of St. John, the brothers who had the charge of the hospital for the pilgrims, had before this obtained the sanction of Pope Calixtus (the predecessor of Honorius) for remodelling the Order, and thenceforth appear in history as the Knights Hospitallers, or Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, a great association rivalling and surviving the Knights Templars. The Hos- pitallers wore black mantles with white crosses, and Pope Honorius assigned to the- Templars white mantles as their peculiar dress. A few years later, Pope Eugenius III. ordered that they should wear a red cross on the left breast. The red cross was also displayed on their banner, which was formed of cloth striped black and white,, whence it was named Beauseant, an old French term applied to a horse marked with those colours. From this arose the war-cry,. " Beauseant !" raised when the conflict raged fiercely by the Red Cross Knights. The Priory in London. In 1128, De Payens visited London, and was warmly welcomed by Henry I. and the leading nobles. In pursuance of the plant proposed by the heads of the Order to esta- blish branches (to use a modern term) in the principal cities of Europe, the Grand Master obtained permission to found a Priory of the. Temple in the road leading to the Old Bourne, the stream which ran into the Fleet river. Southampton Buildings, in Holborn, now covers the site of the old priory. The journey was extended to Scotland ; and in both countries De Payens was " well received by all good men," and received large donations of gold and silver for the benefit of the.- 23 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Order, The chivalric and religious spirit of the age, which so curiously combined a spirit of adventure with a spirit of devotion, and was ready to derive as great pleasure from kill- ing the Saracens as from saving the Sepulchre, seems to have been fascinated by the idea of a body of gallant Knights binding themselves by vows to support the faith by the force of arms. The Norman romances, founded on De Payens left England, "there went with him and after him," says the writer of the events, "so great a number as never before since the days of Pope Urban," that is, since the departure of the first Crusaders,. Grants of land as well as of money were made, and priors and sub-priors were appointed to manage the estates of the Order and transmit the money to Jerusalem. Peter the Hermit's Call to a Crusadh. the Arthurian legends, the traditionary ex- ploits of doughty champions, who rode hither and thither in search of adventures, rescuing captives, helping the helpless, and slaying oppressors, had prepared the popular mind to welcome the existence of an Order the semi-religious character of which de- manded reverence, while the brilliant prowess of the Knights extorted admiration. When Gifts to the Order. Not only were enormous gifts and bequests made, but wealthy and enthusiastic persons appeared to suppose that a pecuUar sanctity attached to the fraternity, and many distin- guished persons on their death-beds took the vows, that they might be buried in the habit of the Order, and so partake of the blessings 24 THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. believed to be bestowed on the souls of Templars. Sovereign princes and nobles of scarcely inferior rank enrolled themselves as members of the fraternity, and bequeathed vast estates, even entire territories, to the Master and brethren of the Temple. Bernard, whose personal influence was greater than that of any other man in Christendom, already regarded as a saint, whose canonization after by donations of land and money. On his return to Jerusalem he was received with great honour, and for five or six years after- wards, until his death in 1136, continued to hold the office of Grand Master, and to be the leading spirit of the Knights of the Temple. His successor was Robert the Burgundian (son-in-law of William de Cur- bellio, Archbishop of Canterbury), who held Doing Battle with the Infidels. death was a certainty, issued from his cell at Clairvaux a famous discourse on " The New Chivalry,'' and congratulated Jerusalem on the appearance of the Soldiers ot Christ, in the words with which Isaiah prophesied good things for the holy city. Not only in England, but in nearly all the Christian countries of Europe, De Payens established priories of the Order, supported the office nearly ten years, and was followed by Everard des Barres, Prior of the Order in France, and the period of his rule was destined to be marked by great events. NOUREDDIN THE SARACEN. The Saracen Sultan of Egypt and Syria, the famous Zenghis, or Emod-el-Deen, "pillar of religion," and his son, the even more 25 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. famous Nour-ed-Deen, "light of religion," known in popular history as Noureddin, brave warriors animated by that fanatical zeal for propagating their creed by the sword which had subdued the north of Africa and the south- western peninsula of Europe to the sway of the Crescent, determined to attack and, if pos- ' sible, destroy the Latin Kingdom in Palestine. ■ In 1 144 and the following year, Noureddin , had made himself master of important po- ' sitions in Mesopotamia and of the city of Aleppo, and pursuing his victorious course, defeated and killed Raymond, Prince of Antioch, in 1149, and threatened the very existence of the Christian power in Palestine. " The Latin Kingdom shook to its founda- tion," says one historian. The Second Crusade. On the reception in Europe of the intelli- gence of the successes of the Saracen prince, Bernard exerted all his eloquence and influ- ence to arouse the Christian Powers to anew Crusade. The Emperor Conrad IL and Louis VII. of France responded to the call. A chapter of the Order of the Templars was convened at Paris, where they were received by Pope Eugenius III., the King of France, and an assembly of the most distinguished princes, prelates, and nobles from all parts of Christendom. A second Crusade was re- solved on, a large army collected, the pro- tecting rear-guard composed of Knights Templars. Having reached Jerusalem the immense force was reorganised, and then a march was made to Damascus, occupied by Noureddin and his brother Saif-eddin, "sword of the faith." The old city, the scene of so many sieges from the days of the Assyrians downwards, was once more surrounded by a hostile force. The Crusaders were attacked and defeated with tremendous slaughter by the Saracens. Shortly afterwards Des Barres resigned his high office — humiliated, perhaps, at the defeat of the Christian army — and retired to the monastery of Clairvaux, over which Bernard ruled. The new Grand Master was Bernard de Ti^emelay, a member of a very distinguished family of Burgundy, and he soon had an opportunity of displaying his abilities as a military leader. The infidels f had advanced, trampling down all opposition, 1 to the very walls of Jerusalem. The banner of the Crescent waved on the Mount of Olives ; the gardens and villages, so sacred in the eyes of Christian men, visited and wept over by legions of Christian pilgrims, were trampled down and occupied by the fierce legions of the power which the faithful re- garded as Antichrist. If anything could have added to the religious zeal of the warriors of the Temple, if anything could have nerved their arms to strike a blow, it was the sight 1 of the Paynim hosts near the Garden of Gethsemane and the humble homes of Be- thany. Under cover of the night the Templars and their allies passed through the gates of Jerusalem, crossed the ravine, and attacked i the Saracen camp. The Moslems flew to arms, but in the confusion which prevailed were no match for the avenging Knights. They were mercilessly slaughtered; five thousand, it is said, were left dead round and about the camp, and the disorderly host of refugees, a few hours before so insolent and defiant, fled in terror beyond the Jordan. The great patron of the Order, Bernard of Clairvaux, died in 11 53. On his deathbed he wrote a letter, commending the Templars to the spiritual care of the patriarch of Antioch, and another letter to one of the Knights, Andrd de Montbard, expressing his affectionate solicitude for the Order and asking their prayers. The Saracens, though defeated, were not subdued, as the Templars soon found to their . cost. Noureddin and his followers were as brave and as fanatical in their faith as the Knights were. The Mahometan leader was an ascetic as well as a warrior, renouncing the temptations of the world, fasting and praying, and devoted all his energies to the task of recovering Jerusalem from the Christians. That was the sole object for which he lived, and no disaster could lessen his enthusiasm and belief in the promise of the Prophet, " The sword is the key of heaven and of hell ; a drop of blood shed in the cause of God, a night spent in arms, is of more avail than two months of fasting and prayer. Whoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven him." Defeats of the Templars. The Templars were equally eager for the contest, and desired to complete the victory on the slopes of the Mount of Olives by driving the infidels from the land they pol- luted by their presence. The Saracens were strongly posted at Ascalon ; and that town was attacked by the Knights. But disaster awaited them. A breach in the walls was made, and through it the gallant Master, Bernard de Tremelay, with a band of Knights, entered the town. They were surrounded by overpowering numbers, and fell fighting as Templars always fought. Not one was left alive, and their dead bodies were exposed in triumph on the walls. About three years afterwards another disas- ter occurred. The new Master, Bertrand de Blanguefort, a Knight of Guienne, and a large body of the Knights, accompanied by King Baldwin of Jerusalem, were drawn into an ambuscade near the Lake of Tiberias. Three hundred Templars were slain, and the Grand Master and nearly ninety others taken pri- 26 THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. soners. The defeat was partially avenged by a night attack made by a small body of the Knights on the camp of Noureddin, that renowned leader only escaping death or cap- tivity by flying, half-naked and unarmed, from the field of battle. The Grand Master soon afterwards regained his liberty by the media- tion of Manuel Commenus, Emperor of Con- stantinople. Conflicts with Saladin. The most renowned leader of the forces of the Sultan of Egypt, the Saladin of romance — the Salah-ed-deen ("integrity of religion") of Arabic history — attacked the fortified city of Gaza, belonging to the Templars, about 1174. The Knights were at a disadvantage in respect of number, but resolute as ever. They fasted and prayed, and then made an unexpected sally on Saladin's camp, with such success that the Saracens broke up in disorder, and hastily retreated into Egypt. A year after- wards, Saladin, who, on the death of Noured- din, had become Sultan of Egypt and Syria, invaded Palestine with 60,000 men. There was a great battle before Ascalon. The Temp- lars attacked the enemy's lines with such vigour that the Saracens were scattered, and the great leader himself with difficulty escaped. In 1 176 the mihtary Orders erected a strong fort near the Jordan, at the northern limit of the Latin Kingdom. There they were attacked by Saladin, and in a hard- fought battle, the Templars, the Hospi- tallers, and the Christian warriors were disastrously routed. The Grand Master of the Templars fell alive into the hands of the enemy ; the others retreated behind the fortifi- cations, to which Saladin then set fire. Some of the Knights were burned, others dashed to pieces by leaping from the rocks. Some were captured and sawn in two, and others sent in chains to Aleppo as captives, unless ransomed. Influence and Wealth of the Order. While these events were taking place in far-off Palestine, the Order was rising to colossal dimensions in Europe. The priory in London had become too small for the requirements of the establishment, and an- other site was chosen, on the banks of the Thames. A round church — we may visit it to-day if we will — on the model of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, was consecrated, in II 8 5, by Heraclius, the patriarch of Jerusalem. The quadrangular portion of the edifice was not added till more than fifty years after- wards (1240). About the time of the consecration of this church, Geoffrey, the Superior of the Order in England, caused an inquisition to be made of the possessions of the Templars in this country ; and from that and other materials we may form some estimate of the wealth and influence of the Order. Mr. Addison, the modern historian of the Templars, tells us that " the number of manors, farms, churches, advowsons, demesne lands, villages, hamlets, wind-mills and water-mills, rent of assize, right of common and free manors, and the amount of all kinds of property possessed by the Templars in England at the period of the taking of this inquisition are astonishing. Upon the great estates belonging to the Order, prioral houses had been erected, wherein dwelt the procurators or stewards charged with the management of the manors and farms in their neighbourhood, and with the collection of the rents. These prioral houses became regular monastic establish- ments, inhabited chiefly by sick and aged Templars, who retired to them to spend the remainder of their days, after a long period of honourable service against the infidels in Palestine. They were cells to the principal house at London. There were also under these certain smaller administrations esta- blished for the management of the farms, consisting of a Knight Templar, to whom were associated some serving brothers of the Order, and a priest, who acted as almoner. The commissions or mandates directed by the Master of the Temple to the officers at the head of these establishments were called pre- cepts, from the commencement of them, Prcecepimus tibi (we enjoin, or direct, you, etc.) The Knights to whom they were addressed were styled Prceceptores Templi, or Preceptors of the Temple, and the district administered by them Prcsceptoria, or pre- ceptories." At that time there were three hundred Knights and serving brothers in- numerable in the Temple house on Mount Moriah. The wealth of the Order exceeded that of sovereign princes. They had three great Eastern provinces — Palestine (the ruling province), Antioch, and Tripoli^forts, and fortified cities. In Sicily they had many houses, large estates, and many important privileges and immunities. Throughout Italy there were numerous preceptories of the Order, and extensive convents. The arms of the Order are still to be seen at Perugia and Bologna. In Portugal they were also wealthy and powerful, and greatly distin- • guished themselves in fighting against the .> Moors. In Aragon, the Balearic Isles, in Germany and Hungary, they were wealthy , and powerful, and in Greece they possessed lands and establishments, the chief house of this province being at Constantinople. " The preceptories and houses of the Temple in France were so numerous that it would be a wearisomeandendlesstaskto repeat the names of them." The chief house of the Order for France, and .ilso for Holland and the Nether- 27 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. lands, was the Temple at Paris, an extensive and magnificent structure, surrounded by a wall and a ditch. It was ornamented with a great tower, flanked by four smaller towers, erected by brother Herbert, almoner to the King of France, and was one of the strongest edifices in the kingdom. The visitor to Paris may now walk along the Rue de Temple, the Boulevard du Temple, the Faubourg du Temple, the name of the great Order being preserved there, as it is in London, and in the prefix to the name of many places in England, as Temple Rothley in Leicestershire, Temple Cowley in Oxford- shire, and others. Matthew Paris tells us that in his time (about 1240) the Templars possessed nine thousand manors in Christendom, besides a large revenue and immense riches arising from the constant charitable bequests and donations of sums of money from pious persons. The annual income of the Order in Europe has been roughly estimated at six millions sterling. Besides this amount of wealth —an amazing amount, indeed, if we compare the value of money seven centuries ago with what it is at the present time — they had in this country extraordinary legal privileges and immunities, granted not only by the Kings, but by the Popes. Sir Edward Coke, in his " Institute of the Laws of England," says, " The Templars did so overspread throughout Christendom, and so exceedingly increased in possessions,revenues, and wealth, and specially in England, as you will wonder to read in approved histories, and withal obtained so great and large privileges, liberties, and immunities for themselves, their tenants and farmers, etc., as no other Order had the like." The Grand Master of the Temple ranked in Europe as a sovereign prince, and had precedence of all ambassadors and peers in the general councils of the Church. He was elected to his high office by the chapter of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, which was com- posed of all the Knights of the East and of the West who could manage to attend. Richard Cceur de Lion. In 1190, a third Crusade was arranged. The leaders were the three greatest secular potentates of Europe, — Frederick Barbarossa, Emperor of Germany, Philip II. of France, and Richard I. of England, the Coeur-de- Lion of romance, the Achilles of the battles of the Cross. In the two years' campaign against the Saracens, led by the renowned Saladin, the Templars and the two other great military Orders, the Hospitallers and the Teutonic Knights (organised in this Crusade, in imitation of the older Orders), highly distinguished themselves. So great was the reputation of the Templars 28 throughout Europe, that when, in 11 92, Richard desired to return to England pri- vately, he adopted, presumably with the consent of the Grand Master, the habit of the Order, and reached Europe in a vessel belonging to the fraternity. It was while wearing that dress that he was captured by the emissaries of the Emperor of Austria, and lost to the view of Christendom until, if legend may be accepted for history, he was discovered by the minstrel Blondin. The ship in which Coeur-de-Lion had embarked was wrecked on the coast of I stria, and the King was forced to make his way as he could, with one or two attendants, to his own country, and in the course of his wanderings reached the dominion of his personal enemy, Leopold, Duke of Austria. That treacherous potentate, jealous alike of the ascendency and personal prowess of the English King, had some intimation of his movements, but failed to obtain an exact clue. Travelling as a poor Templar, and lodging and faring in the humblest manner, Richard escaped recognition until he reached a little village near Vienna, One of his attendants, a young page, having been sent to purchase provisions, was seen by one of Leopold's followers who had returned from the Crusade. The lad was recognized and questioned ; but as he refused to give satisfactory answers, he was cruelly tortured, and in his agony told where he had left his master. Duke Leopold immediately sent a band of soldiers to the inn, and they searched the place, examining every inmate, but could find none of whom they could say, as Queen Elinor did, in Shakespeare's King John, " He hath a trick of Cceur-de-Lion's face." The host was questioned and threatened; "There is no one here," he protested, "like him whom you seek, unless it be the Templar in the kitchen, turning the fowls which are roasting for dinner." Into the kitchen rushed the emissaries of Leopold, and there found seated a man of mighty thews and sinews, quietly engaged in turning the spit. The Austrian officer, who had served in the Crusades, knew him at once, and exclaimed, " It is he ! seize him." To seize Coeur-de- Lion was not an easy exploit. Springing to his feet, Richard, writes Bernard le Tresorier, " did battle for his liberty right valiantly, but was overpowered by numbers." A Mogul Invasion. For the next fifty years or thereabouts, the martial history of the Templars is the story of the Crusades. They shared in most of the victories and vicissitudes of the soldiers of the Cross, growing in reputation abroad and in wealth at home. Long before 1230, Richard had died, and so had the most THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. chivalrous of the Saracens, Saladin, as poHshed and graceful, but as keen and cruel, as his own scimitar. At the date named, a truce of ten years had been arranged, the Emperor Frederick II. had obtained posses- sion of Jerusalem, and the arms of the , warriors of the Temple might have rusted ' had not a new enemy appeared on the field. In 1242, the Moguls, or Mongols, that race of Scythian descent who, under Genghis or Zenghis Khan, had made themselves masters of the best part of Central Asia, made their appearance in Syria. They were of the same stock as those Turcomans whose oppression of the Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem and the pilgrims had roused Europe to the adventure of the first Crusade. The barbaric Moguls were led by Barbacan, a Kharizmian chief, who had a force of twenty thousand horsemen. Jerusalem was not in a condition to sustain a siege, and the Templars and the other military Orders quitted it, without leav- ing, it would seem, — and their conduct is inexphcable, — any protection against the cruel foe. The Kharizmian warriors entered Jeru- salem, and indiscriminately massacred the inhabitants. Alliance with the Saracens. Christian and Mahometan sanctuaries were alike outraged and pillaged, sepulchres even were violated, and the remains of the dead rifled and searched for hidden orna- ments and treasure. The Christian Knights had learned in the interval of peace to live in something like friendship with the Saracens, once their deadliest foes, and now both made common cause against the fierce invaders. The Knights of Jerusalem united their forces ■with the Moslems of Damascus and Aleppo ; and, urged by the appeal of the Patriarch, hurried rashly into the field. The event proved that they had miscalculated their own strength and undervalued the prowess of the foe, for they were defeated with terrible slaughter. The Grand Masters of the Tem- plars and the Hospitallers were killed, and only thirty-three Templars, twenty-six Hos- pitallers, and three Teutonic Knights of all those engaged, survived the conflict. Tiberias, Ascalon, and other strong places, fell into the hands of the enemy; and the remnant of the Christian chivalry took refuge in Acre, that memorable town which, fifty years before, Coeur-de-Lion had captured, after a two years' siege, at a cost of more than three hundred thousand men. Then the Saracen Sultan of Egypt came to the rescue. The barbarians were defeated ; Bar- bacan, their leader, was killed, and the rem- nant of the horde driven back to the eastern deserts whence they came. Another Crusade. With the end of the common danger came the end of the alliance. To the Christian princes and ecclesiastics of Europe, the Sultan of Egypt, although he had expelled the Moguls, was nearly as objectionable in the capacity of master of Jerusalem. The Holy Sepulchre was still in the custody of infidels; and in 1248, at a great council at Lyons, presided over by Pope Innocent IV., the seventh Crusade was arranged, the most prominent command being taken by Louis IX. (St. Louis) of France, The army reached Lower Egypt, and at the suggestion of the Count d'Artois, brother of the French King, a brave but rash and inexperienced warrior, made an attack on Mansourah, the capital. The assault was repulsed with terrible loss to the Crusaders. The King of France himself was taken pri- soner, the Grand Master of the Templars was killed, and thirty thousand of the Christian force were either slain in the heat of battle, or afterwards massacred in cold blood. Deadly Quarrel with the Knights Hospitallers. A few years afterwards, the jealousy which had been long smouldering between the two great Orders broke out into open flame. Templars and Hospitallers alike believed themselves to be too renowned and powerful to brook a rival. Each Order could claim as i members princes and nobles of the highest rank ; each could boast of a long record of great achievements ; each was enormously wealthy ; and each was proud, arrogant, and defiant. Quarrels broke out in the seaports of Palestine, each Order claiming exclusive privileges and quarters ; words were followed by blows, and even the sanctity of churches was violated by sanguinary struggles within the edifices. At length it was resolved to test the rival pretensions by an appeal to the ordeal of battle. The Masters of the two great Orders arranged, therefore, a formal engagement. The red cross and the white cross mingled in the fray. Knights renowned throughout Christendom for valour, who had fought side by side against the Moslems, now turned their lances against each other. The Templars fought with the valour which always distinguished the Order ; but the Hospitallers prevailed, and scarcely one of the Red Cross Knights escaped with life on that fatal day. Invasion of the Mamelukes. The excitement among the members of the Order at home was intense. From the pre- ceptories and houses of the Temple of all parts of Europe, Knights departed to fill the places of those struck down by the grim war- riors of St. John. A war of extermination would have been the result, but, fortunately for the peace of Christendom — for who could say to what principalities and powers the feud might have extended? — the Mamelukes, under Bon- 29 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. docdar, a renowned chieftain, invaded Pales- tine, and changed the state of affairs. The reinforced Templars and the victorious Hos- pitallers forgot their quarrel, and united against the infidel, setting a noble example of heroism to their allies, and indulging in rivalry only to the extent of bravely competing for the honour of bearing the banner of the Cross triumphantly into the ranks of the warriors of the Crescent. Apostacy or Death? In one of the battles, ninety Templars fell by treachery into the hands of Bibar, the great Mameluke chief. They had capitulated in accordance with a promise of honourable treatment ; but no sooner had they quitted their stronghold, than they were surrounded and secured. Bibar offered the Knights so treacherously captured the choice of Islamism or death. To a man they chose the latter, and were at once slaughtered, meeting death as brave men should. Flushed with victory, the Mamelukes besieged and took Antioch, putting to the sword many thousands of the Christian inhabitants of that large city, and •capturing, it is said, as many as a hundred thousand more, to be sold into slavery. Siege of Acre and End of the Crusades. The eighth and last Crusade, under the leadership of Louis of France and Prince Edward of Engb.nd, was undertaken in 1270. One of the most prominent events was the .siege of Acre by the Mahometans. The city was the last refuge of the Christians, and •was in a state of great internal confusion. Europeans of many nations were crowded there, and there were seventeen independent tribunals, and, of necessity, divided counsels among the leaders. When the besieging army appeared in sight, most of those who could contrive to escape fled from the city, which was left with a garrison of about twelve thousand men, nearly all belonging to the military Orders. The siege lasted thirty-three days, and then a breach was made, through which the Moslems poured into the city. Lusignan, who held the title of the King of Jerusalem, basely fled. Tl;e Hospitallers, led by their Grand Master, cut their way through the beleaguring host, and reached the coast. The Templars maintained the defence, Pierre de Beaujeau, the Grand Master, being killed by a poisoned arrow. The courage displayed by the Knights daunted the other- wise successful foe, and they were offered, and accepted, an honourable passage from the city. Directly they had quitted the for- tress, however, they were attacked, and many were slain. The brave remnant cut their way through, and ultimately reached Cyprus. That gallant band were the last of the Crusaders, and theirs was the last effort for the defence of Palestine. The Templars in England. In England, the Templars were at the summit of wealth and prosperity. In the reign of Henry III., Queen Berangeria, widow f'' of Coeur-de-Lion, was unable to obtain pay- ment of her annuity promised by King John, ^ who had pleaded "the greatness of his adver- sity by reason of the wickedness of his mag- nates and barons," and who, indeed, would as soon have defrauded his sister-in-law as any other person. Berangeria appealed to the Pope to help her to obtain the amount due, ^4,000. The Templars took up her cause, and became guarantees for the pay- ment of the money. When Henry III. died, and was buried in the old coffin which had originally contained the corpse of Edward the Confessor, in Westminster Abbey, the Knights Templars, with the consent of the widowed Queen Eleanor, undertook the care and expense of the funeral, which was very magnificent, and raised a superb monument to his memory, inlaid with precious stones brought from the Holy Land by his son Edward. The wars in Palestine were ended ; the special work of the Templars was no longer to be performed. The temple was in the hands of Mahometans, and Moslem eyes gazed irreverently on the Church of the Sepulchre. The Knights were in Europe potentates even amongst princes, lords of vast estates, masters of untold wealth. Their possessions excited the envy of kings ; their power and military prestige aroused fear and jealousy. Kings wanted money, the Templars had it. These were two propositions in the great logic of events ; the conclusion was soon supplied, and the syllogism completed. Edward I., who had fought by the side of the Knights in Palestine, began by seizing the funds which the Templars had collected for the use of their brethren in Cyprus, but, on the interposition of the Pope,refunded it. On his return from the campaign in Wales, being pressed for money, he sent to the Temple in London, and caused the coffers to be broken open, and ;^ 10,000 to be taken away. His son, Edward II., sent his too ready companion and favourite. Piers Gaveston, to repeat the act of spoliation, and ^50,000, gold, jewels, \ and silver, were taken. 1 Persecution in France. ^ The King of France, Philip, was also in want of money — a common want of kings in those times. He began by confiscating the property of the Jews — an action rather meri- torious than otherwise, according to the prevailing code of morals ; but on attempt- ing to extend the operation to his Christian 30 THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. subjects, and to pay his debts in base coin, while exacting good money in all payments of taxes by his subjects, there was aery about " cruel injustice," and a riot broke out in Paris ; the King himself being threatened by a mob which gathered around his palace. He believed, or affected to believe, that the Templars had fermented the outbreak, and he made that supposition the excuse for a course of action, which perhaps he would not have had the courage to adopt more openly, for among the Templars (who then numbered about fifteen thousand) were members of some of the most powerful families of France. Horrible Charges and Torture. Philip had acquired almost unbounded influence at Rome. The Pope was a French cardinal, and many of the cardinals were also of French birth. In 1307, the King summoned the Grand Master from Cyprus, and he arrived in Paris, in company with sixty Knights. Philip secretly sent letters to all the governors of the provinces in France, accusing the Templars of profanity, infidelity, and the most horrible crimes which a depraved imagination could conceive. The only autho- rity he adduced was the statement of an apostate Templar named De Flore stan. On the night of the 13th of October, every Templar in France was arrested. Monks were appointed to preach against them in the public places, exciting the popular anger by accusing the Knights of worshipping idols ; burning the bodies of their dead brethren, making a powder from their ashes and ad- ministering it to the young Knights ; of roast- ing infants and anointing the idols with the fat ; of celebrating hidden rites and mysteries, and perpetrating abominable debaucheries. After suffering an imprisonment of twelve days, the Knights were delivered over to the tender mercies of the Dominican monks, the most accomplished torturers of the time. A hundred and forty Templars were put to the torture, their feet roasted before slow fires till the flesh dropped off, and submitted to other cruelties too horrible and disgusting to be described in detail. In their agony anany made so-called confessions, really dic- tated by the Dominicans — confessions after- wards retracted by some of the braver spirits. Edward II. and the Pope. Edward of England was not unwilling to iTvail himself of the Templars' wealth, but felt or feigned indignation at the cruelties perpetrated by his brother of France. He addressed letters to the Kings of Portugal, Castile, Aragon, and Sicily, asking them not to punish the Templars unless their guiJt was legally proved ; and also to the Pope, ex- pressing his disbelief in the horrible accusa- tions. The Pope, however, had anticipated him by forwarding a bull requiring the King to seize the persons of all the Templars in his dominions. Edward II. was one of the weakest of men, and abjectly complied. On the 8th of January, 1308, the English Templars were suddenly arrested in all parts of the Kingdom. William de la More, the Master of the Temple in London, and all his Knights, were committed to close castody m Canterbury Castle, but, on the intervention of the Bishop of Durham, admitted to bail. The King began with great promptitude to apply the property of the Order to his own use ; but the Pope (who held very decided views of his own on the matter) wrote to him to the effect that his conduct in doing so " affords us no slight cause of affliction," and that fit and proper persons would be sent to England to take possession of the property and to make an inquisition concerning " the execrable excesses" the members of the Order were said to have committed. The Charges against the English Templars. In September 1309, the Pope's inquisitors arrived ; they were Dieudonn^, abbot of Lagny, and Sicard de Vaury, canon of Nar- bonne and chaplain to the Pope. The Arch- bishop of Canterbury, in obedience to Papal instructions, made public a bull, in which the Pope declared himself perfectly convinced of the guilt of the Templars, and threatening with excommunication all persons who should give " assistance, counsel, or kindness," to the members of the Order. That being the decision arrived at, of course the so-called trial of the accused was a mere absurdity. The tribunal, consisting of the Pope's inqui- sitors and the Bishop of London, assembled in the episcopal palace on the 20th of October, a year and eight months after the Templars had been arrested. Torture had been ap- plied, and confessions, as they were called, extorted. The Master and some of his asso- ciates were brought from the Tower, and eighty-seven articles of indictment were ex- hibited. Among other charges were those of spitting on the cross, and offering even greater indignities to the sacred symbol ; of denying that Christ was very God ; of worship- ping a cat ; of claiming for the Master the power of forgiving sins ; of worshipping an idol with three faces ; and of habitually practising abominations which cannot be de- scribed. Sittings of the inquisitors were also held at Lincoln and York. The witnesses were nearly all monks, Car- melites, Augustinians, and Minorites, aided by a few serving-men and apostates who had been expelled from the Order for miscon- duct. There was scarcely any direct evidence ; but the readiness with which the witnesses deposed to matters they had " heard of," or 31 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. " suspected * to have occurred, was remarka- ble. It is quite possible that the Templars had secret rites of initiation, some vague know- ledge of which had reached the outer world, and so made a shadowy basis for the charges. Indeed, M. Michelet, the French historian, ventures to say, " The forms of reception into the Order were borrowed from the whimsical dramatic rites, the mysteries which the ancient Church did not dread to connect with the most sacred doctrines and objects. The candidate for admission was presented in the character of a sinner, a bad Christian, a renegade. In imitation of St. Peter, he de- nied Christ ; the denial was pantomimically represented by spitting on the cross. The Order undertook to restore this renegade — to lift him to a height as great as the depth to which he had fallen." Worn out by tor- ture, many of the Templars confessed all kinds of crimes, and some were permitted to make public recantation of their offences in St. Paul's and at York, and then reconciled to the Church. The Master, William de la More, died of a broken heart in a dungeon of the Tower of London, and others died in prison, where they languished loaded with chains. On the suppression of the Order, many of the Knights who had confessed the error of their ways were received into different monas- teries, living on small pensions doled out to them. The first Knights of the Order had made a vow of poverty; their successors now gradually realised it. Horrible Cruelties in France, and Abolition of the Order. While these events were transpiring in Eng- land, the proceedings against the Templars in France were of a most sanguinary character. Edward of England, instigated by the Pope, was contented with a moderate amount of torture and robbery; Philip of France, whose creature Pope Clement V. was, determined that the Knights should be extirpated. Fifty- four members of the Order were burned in an open place at Paris, and many others at various places ; and so revolting in its cruelty was the persecution, that the corpse of a dead Templar of renown was dragged from its grave and burned. The Pope abolished the Order by a bull drawn up in a private consistory, and the survivors of the famous Templars were left to the mercies of the King. Edward of Eng- land offered no protection. He had joined in the spoliation, and had, moreover, married Isabella the Fair, the daughter of Philip, who was gifted with a fine dowry from the wealth of the Templars. Heroic Conduct of the Grand Master. On the 1 8th of March, 1313, Jacques de Molay, the Grand Master, and others who had been prisoners for more than five years, appeared, loaded with chains, on a public scaffold, erected before the great church of Notre Dame, in Paris, and the citizens were summoned to hear their confessions. The papal legate called upon them to renew in the hearing of the people the avowals they had previously made of their guilt. De Molay, raising his fettered arms, advanced to the edge of the scaffold, and in a loud voice declared that to say that which was untrue was a crime in the sight of God and man. He added, " I do confess my guilt, which consists in having, to my shame and dishonour, suffered myself, through the pain of torture and the fear of death, to give utterance to falsehoods, imputing scandalous sins and iniquities to an illustrious Order which hath nobly served the cause of Chris- tianity. I disdain to seek a wretched and disgraceful existence by engrafting another lie on the original falsehood." He was forcibly interrupted, and taken, back to prison, whence he and the Grand Preceptor, who also declared his innocence, were taken that same day, by the order of the King, and slowly burned to death over a charcoal fire on a little island of the Seine, near the spot where now stands the statue of Henry IV. A legend, long believed, asserts that De Molay, with his last breath, cited the Pope to appear within forty days, and the King within a year, before the judgment- seat of God. It is a fact that the Pope died within the period mentioned of an attack of dysentery, and that the church in which the coffin was deposited was burnt down, and the body of Clement almost entirely consumed ; and that shortly afterwards Philip died of a lingering and painful disease. A Scramble for the Possessions. In England, the King quarrelled with the Pope about the property of the Order, which was eagerly scrambled for by the Court favourites ; but ultimately, yielding to papal pressure, conferred it upon the Knights of St. John, who, however, did not obtain it for some time, and then only on payment of exorbitant fees. The great house, with its church, by the river-side was afterwards granted to students of law ; and when Henry Vlll. abolished the Order of the Hospitallers, the lawyers became tenants of the Crown. The nine cross-legged effigies ^ ' in the round church do not represent Knights- j Templars, but distinguished Crusaders buried there. There is good reason to suppose that j only one monumental effigy of a Templar exists, and that represents John, Count de Dreux, buried in the church of St. Yvod de Braine, near Soissons, in France. G. R. E. 32 The Meeting of Sir James Outram and General Havelock. INDIA'S AGONY. THE STORY OF THE SEPOY MUTINY OF 1857. " Where ev'ry prospect pleases, and only man is vile." — Heber. A Terrible E.xample — The "Company's" India; Conquest and Misrule — Shaking the Pagoda-tree — Mutinies of the Last Century — A Danger Disregarded — Sir Charles Napier's Opinion — A Policy of Annexation — The First Outbreak— The Greased Cartridges — Meerut — Delhi and the Great Mogul— Spread of the Mutiny — Prompt Action of Lord Canning — The Two Lawrences and Outram — Meean Meer — General Anson — Successive Commanders — Delhi Re- taken — Hodson and the Family of the Mogul — Nana Sahib of Bithoor — Cawnpore — The Massacre on the Ganges^ The Turn of the Tide — Vengeance of Nana Sahib — Struggle in Oudh — Havelock and Outram— Lucknow — Sir Colin Campbell — Slaughter of the Rebels — "Lucknow" Kavanagh— Final Throes of the Mutiny — Bareilly — Transfer of India to the English Government — End of the East India Company. A Terrible Example. HE time is close upon five o'clock on the afternoon of the 13th of October, 1857; the place is the general parade ground of Fort George, at Bombay. Since noon it has been known in the Government Offices that there is to be a military exe- cution; and the first rumours have been corroborated by the circulation, through- out the island of Bombay, of a garrison order that has come like a shock upon the whole community. For this is no ordinary military execution ; the fatal paper announces that recourse is to be had to a proceeding so unusual that only a few white-beai-ded men can remember that similar scenes were enacted in their youth. For the garrison order sets forth that Drill Havildar Syed Hoossein, of the Marine Battalion Native Infantry, and Private Mungul Guddrea, of the loth Regiment N.I., having been pro- nounced guilty at an European general court- martial of having on the night of the 3rd ot 33 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the same month attended a seditious meet- ing, and there made use of highly seditious language, evincing a traitorous disposition towards the Government, tending to promote rebellion agai-nst the State, and to subvert the authority of the British Government, the said Syed Hoossein and Mungul Guddrea are to suffer death by being blown away from the muzzle of a cannon. As the time for the terrible spectacle ap- proaches, hundreds of Europeans are seen wending their way to the parade ground ; while from the alleys and lanes of the Black town thousands upon thousands of the dark- skinned population come pouring forth. The stranger is at once struck by the feature that impresses every new-comer in India, — the immense contrast between the swarming masses of natives and the mere handful of the resolute, inflexible, dominant race by whom they are held in subjection. The neighbouring city, whose inhabitants are pouring forth to the esplanade, numbers eight hundred thousand inhabitants ; and the proportion of Europeans is exceedingly small, — for the sway of the East India Com- pany is not yet a thing of the past on this October afternoon in 1857; and the system which discourages by every means the esta- blishment of "uncovenanted" Europeans and interlopers is, with various other extra- ordinary rules and customs of " Company Bahadoor,'' still in full operation. The pre- vailing expression on the dark faces is one of apathy and indifference ; but who shall tell what volcanic fires of rage and hatred may be smouldering in the bosoms of those undemonstrative men, and how suddenly the flames may burst forth, and the stolid mask may be rent and blown away into atoms, like the bodies of the unhappy traitors, the hour of whose doom has come suddenly upon them ? And now the troops in garrison come marching out to take up the positions marked out for them on the parade ground. They are drawn up on the parade so as to form three sides of a hollow square ; but the com- ponent parts of these sides are very different. The base consists of about five hundred men of the 95th Regiment, and the same number of sailors in the Company's service ; while at the sides are drawn up three Sepoy regiments, the loth Native Infantry, to which the con- demned culprit, Mungul Guddrea belonged, being one of them. All this was regular enough, and according to routine, that the whole garrison should be summoned to witness so important an act as a military execution. But now came a startling and unusual detail. Besides the two guns pointed forward from the base line, and intended for the execution of the two cri- minals, six others were accurately planted in the square, three being turned against each of the two opposite sides. These were served by men of the Royal Artillery, who stood by them, lighted match in hand. They were loaded to the muzzle with grape and canister^ and pointed full against the Sepoy regiments. At the same time the 95th Queen's Regiment and the Company's sailors loaded their Enfields, ready at a moment's notice to fire into the Sepoy ranks ; and then, amid a death-like silence, the two culprits were marched forward. The artillery men stripped them of their regimental jackets, bound them to the guns. Then, after an instant of terrible suspense, the word " fire " was given. A thunderous explosion shook the ground ; and, amid thick wreaths of smoke, a horrible shov/er of crimson morsels came down like a red hail, — the remnants of the two unhappy culprits blown out of the world. And all this while the Sepoys stood in their ranks, and moved not hand or foot. In silence they looked on while their comrades were blown to fragments ; in silence they marched back to their quarters when the sweepers had collected, with brooms and baskets, the relics of the two culprits, and the tragedy was played out. And yet there was not an European pre- sent who did not breathe more freely, and feel that a crisis of supreme danger was past, when the dusky, sullen forces disappeared under the archways leading to the barracks, and the. grim order of the day had been successfully carried out. For the crime for which such swift and exemplary punishment had descended upon those two guilty men had been nothing less than an organised conspiracy, the fourth within a few months, to seize the island of Bombay, and murder every European, with- out distinction of age or sex ; and this dia- bolical scheme was planned at the time when India was passing through the great agony of the mutiny that was destined to mark on the page of history, in letters of blood, the centenary of British rule in the peninsula of India. The story of that mutiny, of the tremen- dous struggle it entailed, and of the manner in which British valour and endurance at last triumphed over the enormous perils and difficulties of " India's agony," we here pur- pose briefly to tell. The Company's India ; Conquest and Misrule. The whole history of our Anglo-Indian Empire is full of surprises, and in many re- spects reads like a wild romance rather than like sober reality. The unexampled spectacle of a company of merchants, a trading cor- poration, converted within a few years into the rulers of a hundred millions of human beings, with almost irresponsible power, tc 34 INDIA'S AGONY. rule justly or tyrannically as their own in- clination or interests prompted, was in itself sufficiently startling ; but the wonder was greatly increased by the manner in which the Company was permitted, year after year, to exercise the utterly anomalous and ex- ceptional authority with which it was in- vested. " It's such a long way off," is in many instances equal to " It happened such a long time ago ;" and India has always ■ been looked upon, oddly enough, as beyond the ordinary ken, and exempt from ordinary rules. One of the most graphic of our writers on India, Dr. Russell, has remarked on the indifference manifested in England on the abuse of power thousands of miles away ; how, in spite of the marvellous eloquence of Burke and his colleagues, the accusations against Warren Hastings, though of the gravest kind, were received with indifference by the people because the acts referred to were perpetrated in such a far country ; whereas, had they been done in the Channel Islands, in Ireland, or in Scotland, the in- teUigence would have been received with a general burst of indignation. " To-night I hear," says the same writer, — it is in 1858, — ■ "that the menagerie of the King of Oude, as much his private property as his watch or turban, . were sold under discreditable circumstances, and his jewels seized and impounded, though we had no more claim on them than on the Crown diamonds of Russia. Do the English people care for those things ? Do they know them .'' The hundred millions of Hindostan know them well, and care for them too." How deeply the natives of India cared, the events of 1857 and 1858 sufficiently testified. " Shaking the Pagoda-tree" ; Native Hatred to Foreign Rule. . With "all its glories, conquests, triumphs, spoils," the government of the East India Company in India was tainted from the very first with mighty vices ; and these became more flagrant as time gave to the various abuses the impunity and even the authority •derived from prescription. For generation after generation, the great aim and object of the servants of the Company, from the high civil and military functionaries downwards, was to squeeze as large as possible a fortune out of the country as quickly as might be, and to turn their backs upon it for ever, so soon as that object had been attained, and the last golden harvest had been shaken down from the pagoda tree. With perfect truth has it been said that if the native rulers chastised the people with whips, the European masters chastised them with scorpions, and that the subjugated race found the little finger of the Company thicker than the loins of the worst and most dissolute of their native princes. Hindoos and Ma" hometans were sufficiently acute to submit to the inevitable, and to crouch beneath a despotism upheld by the sword, wielded in the hands of masters whom they never met in the field without a .certainty of defeat and of swift and terrible punishment. But none but the wilfully blind could assert or even affect to believe that the English rute in India was popular among the inhabitants, and that anything but the conviction of the uselessness of resistance induced them to remain quiet under it, or to refrain from attempts to pull it down. Whenever the English arms received even a temporary check, the excitement and restlessness among the natives, their eager expectation of de- liverance from the foreign yoke, became unmistakable ; and to those capable of dis- cerning the signs of the times, the likelihood of a tremendous outbreak sooner or later, must have now and then been present, like the skeleton at the Egyptian feast. And, indeed, tlie most pressing and terrible form in which danger to the foreign rule could offer itself, had been brought before them more than once, though at long intervals, and the lesson had passed unheeded. There had repeatedly been great and formidable mihtary mutinies. Mutinies in India during the Last Century. Already in Clive's time, when the Company had not long emerged from the position of a trading corporation holding certain lands for which rent was paid to the native govern- ments, there were occasional outbreaks of insubordination in the army, that threatened to overthrow the newly erected power. One of the most formidable of these occurred during Clive's third visit to India, v.'hen the conqueror of Plassy came to Calcutta as governor, with the avowed intention of putting down the great and growing evils that had taken root in the administration, " or perishing in the attempt." The Sepoys were at that time in such a state of chronic insubordination that they are described as being only kept in check by wholesale execu- tions. But it was among the European officers that the mutiny broke out. Indig- nant at some restrictive regulations intro- duced by the Governor, they refused obedience ; and a great number of theni struck against him, resigning their commis- sions on the same day. Clive put them down with an energy and decision that astonisl'ied them into rapid and abject sub- mission ; but an evil example had been set, which was followed by the native troops. On various occasions outbreaks occurred, which should have served as warnings to the authorities, but passed unheeded. 35 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. A DANGER Disregarded, and a Lesson Left Unread. One of the most dangerous of these was the rising at Vellore, in the Madras Presi- dency, in 1856; where two Sepoy battaUons attacked the European soldiers, murdering 113 of them, and were themselves attacked with a loss of 800 of their number by the 19th Dragoons, under Colonel Gillespie. Other outbreaks had been planned by the native soldiery ; and the European officers and officials, who by their energy and fore- sight prevented these attempts from being carried out, received scant thanks and no reward for their services ; on the contrary they were stigmatised as alarmists, and the government completely failed to realise the gravity and extent of the danger, or to note the significant fact that the immediate causes of the disaffection were to be found in regulations concerning dress, accoutrements, shaving, the wearing of marks of caste, and other matters that had to do with the religious feelings and prejudices of the native sol- diery. In 1824, at the breaking out of the Bur- mese war, insubordination, carried, indeed, to an outrageous extent on parade, again appeared ; various regiments declaring that to cross the " Black water " would be a violation of the precepts of their religion. On one occasion it became absolutely neces- sary to open with a fire of artillery upon the insurgents. In 1844, there was a mutiny of Bengal regiments at Ferozepore, who refused to march to occupy the conquered territory of Scinde, unless increased allowances were granted to them. In 1849 ^'^^ 185O5 there were again mutinies among the 13th, 22nd, and 66th Bengal Native Infantry. Conces- sion and remonstrance in some instances, firmness and severity in others, got over the difficulties for the time ; but still the authori- ties refused to read the lesson that stared them in the face, or to remember that the pitcher goes to the well until it is broken. Each time the difficulty was for the moment averted, they treated it as permanently over- come ; like the debtor who, on signing a bill at three months for a liability he was unable to meet, rejoicingly rubbed his hands, declar- ing that '■that matter was settled." Sir Charles Napier's Opinion; Changed Feeling of the Sepoys. One far-seeing and sagacious man there was who read the signs of the times aright, and lifted up his voice in warning persis- tently, honestly, and vainly ; this was the conqueror of Scinde, the gallant and good Sir Charles Napier. That strenuous and experienced officer was utterly astounded at the state in which he found the Sepoy regi- 36 ments, and at the want of discipline and subordination everywhere apparent. He roundly asserted that India was in danger, and declared that swift, combined, and energetic action was necessary, if the whole country were not to be lost to British rule. But his outspoken frankness drew upon hirf , the censure of the viceroy. Lord Dalhousie, | and a lamentable conflict ensued between, j the Governor-General and the Commander- | in-Chief, until the latter threw up his office in well-grounded anger and disgust. With the volcano of disaffection rumbling beneath them, the authorities pursued the path of false security until it led them to ruin. The feeling of the Sepoys towards the English had greatly changed since those days when, during the defence of Arcot, the native soldiers came to Clive, who was in command, not to complain of the privations they were suffering, but to propose that all the rice should be given to the European portion of the garrison, while they, who required less nourishment, would content themselves with the thin gruel that was strained from the boiled grain. The Sepoy ' of a hundred years later was a proud, stubborn, and obstinate being, exceedingly tenacious of what he considered his rights, and above all things punctilious on ques- tions affecting his caste. The mutiny at Vellore had been in a great measure due to a rumour that, the Sepoys were to be com- pelled " to wear the leather stock, supposed to have been manufactured from the hide of the contaminating hog, and to don the garb of infidels who daily indulged in the blasphe- mous and revolting practice of devouring the flesh of their holy cow." Among the causes of the great mutiny of 1857, religious fanati- cism was certainly the chief; and it is astonishing that this danger should have been so long disregarded. A Policy of Annexation. Lord Dalhousie's policy in India was one of annexation, and under his rule an immense amount of territory was added to the British possessions in India. That the transfer of authority from native princes to the English was in many respects of advantage to the native population is undeniable ; but it was difficult to persuade men to look with com- placency upon new masters, especially where those masters were of a foreign race, and were known to entertain a feeling of contempt for " niggers," under which contemptuous epithet they included every class of the dark-skinned race from the Brahmin to the Pariah. " These are boys, but they are going out to govern India, to be wigless judges, sediles, and pro- consuls," writes the astute Dr. Russell in his journal on his passage to Madras, astonished at hearing the "nigger" spoken of generi- INDIA'S AGONY. cally in terms of the, most uncompromising scorn, by a couple of beardless " grift's," over their cards and brandy pawnee. That a keen, quick-witted race like the Hindoos should not be thoroughly aware of all this, is incredible. The same acute ob- server has left on record the impression made upon him by the aspect of the natives as he travelled through Bengal from Calcutta to- wards Lucknow ; nor did he for a moment misinterpret the true meaning of the cringing salaams wherewith, as an Englishman, he was greeted, or mistake the nature of the homage "which the faint heart would fain deny but dare not.'' Mr. Trevelyan, in his " Cawnpore," has given, in graphic language, his idea of the opinion of the natives con- cerning the English. " We should not," he writes, " be far wrong if we are content to allow that we are regarded by the natives of Hindostan as a species of quaint and some- what objectionable demons, with a rare apti- tude for fighting and administration. Foul and degraded in our habits, though with reference to those habits not to lae judged by the same standard as ordinary men ; not altogether malevolent, but entirely wayward and unac- countable, — a race of demidevils, neither quite human nor quite supernatural ; not wholly bad, yet far from perfectly good ; who have been settled down in the country by the will of fate." This queer creed needed but little to transform it into active hatred ; and far more than that little was supplied by the increased estrangement between the Sepoys and the white officers, consequent upon the greater communication kept up with Europe, that led the latter, " instead of identifying themselves with those under them, to seek for interests, pleasures, and society in impor- tations from home." Such was the state of feeling at the be- ginning of the eventful year 1857, the year that shook the English power in India more rudely than it had ever been shaken, since the time of Warren Hastings and Hyder Ali, The Mysterious Cakes. There had long been a tradition, repeated with bated breath in many an Indian hut, that the dominion of the infidels in India should last no more than a century ; and in 1857, the centenary of Clive's victory at Plassey, whereby the government of Bengal had been wrested from Surajah Dowlah and bestowed on Meer Jaffier, the puppet set up by the East India Company, the time was considered as accomplished. For many months of 1856 a strange kind of secret Free- masonry was noticed among the various stations. From village to village small cakes of bread, called chuputties, were carried to the head man of each place, who received orders to forward similar tokens to the next village. But although this went on under the very eyes of the British functionaries, no notice was taken of it. Some, indeed, considered that these mysterious chuputties were merely distributed as a charm against impending calamity; but the very fact that they were not sent to any territory governed by native princes, but only circulated in villages undef British rule, should have awakened the autho' rities to a sense of the danger. Amid all the doubt that still hangs over this eventful period, and amid the contraiy statements of various witnesses and writers, one thing may be con- sidered abundantly proved, namely, that there existed throughout India a vast conspiracy — a conspiracy in which Hindoo and Mussul- man, forgetting their ancient feuds, were acting in concert, and that its object was utterly to subvert the rule of the foreign masters of Hindostan. Discontent op the Army. It was in the army that the universal dis- content first broke into a flame. In the five years of Lord Dalhousie's rule as Governor- General, Nagpore, Suttara, Berar Jhansi, and Oude had been annexed ; and it was the avowed wish of that statesman, to whom India is indebted for many benefits in the way of cheap postage, telegraphy, railways, and increased facilities for commerce, to take all power of government out of native hands, that the English might be all in all in the peninsula. "We are lords paramount of India," he declared, " and our policy is to acquire as direct a dominion over the territories in the possession of the native princes, as we already hold over the other half of India." These annexations, necessary and justifiable no doubt in some cases, excited deep and bitter emotions in the breasts of the natives, and especially of mem- bers of the annexed states serving in the army. Hatred of foreign domination seems an inextinguishable principle inhuman nature, and the dissolute tyranny of their own rulers seemed to these men preferable to the juster rule imposed on them by strangers. The First Outbreak ; The Greased Cartridges ; Meerut. And now the belief in the invincibility of the Enghsh had been rudely shaken. Such disasters as the defeat of Gough at Chillian- wallah lingered in the memory of men only too ready to rejoice in any check received by their masters ; and the story of the disasters and blunders of the Crimean War, then just concluded, — a story narrated with wonderful frankness by English newspaper correspon- dents, — had increased the impression that the star of Britain was waning. " I am struck by the scowling, hostile look of the people," writes Dr. Russell shortly after this time; 37 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. "the bunniahs bow with their necks and salaam with their hands, but not with their eyes." In the army, the treatment of native officers, who were tabooed by the Enghsh, and to whom only the lowest grades were open after long service, made them more likely to side with their men than with the white officers ; and their influence could rather be counted on to widen than to heal any misunderstanding that might arise. The immediate cause Of the breaking out of the mutiny was the well-known incident of the greased cartridges. The introduction of the Enfield rifle into the army had brought with it an altei^ation in the cartridge, which, it must be remembered, was at that time bitten open before use, and not twisted or torn with the fingers. A rumour, spreading with the marvellous rapidity with which such things spread among an ignorant and fana- tical race, was borne abroad far and wide among the Sepoys, that animal fat, and especially hog's lard and cow's fat, had been used in lubricating these cartridges, and that their introduction was a trick to deprive the natives of high caste of their standing, and degrade all to a common level, by making them take the accursed thing in their mouths, and thus " break their caste." And they were furious. Efforts made by a proclamation of the ■ Governor-General, declaring the absence of any such material from the cartridges, iand by the withdrawal of the cartridges i them selves from circulation, failed to allay the ferment. At Dumdum, Barrackpore, • and other places, acts of such mutinous insu- ibordination occurred, that executions and Uhe disbanding of various regiments had to , be resorted to, to restore even the appearance ] of order ; and the repeated refusals of the ] troops to receive the cartridges served out to 1 them, and in which the lubrication did in \ some instances contain cow's fat, at last ,' awakened the apprehension of the authorities ; ■ but the measures to suppress the discontent • were taken too late. On the 23rd of April, 1857, the 3rd Bengal Cavalry being drawn up on parade at Meerut, for instruction in platoon exercise, eighty- five troopers refused to receive the ammunition served out to them. They were arrested, tried by court-martial, and sentenced to ten years' imprisonment. On the 9th of May the i sentence was read out in the presence of the 1 whole garrison, Europeans and native regi- "^ments, and the eighty-five prisoners were • loaded with chains in the presence of their • comrades, and in spite of their tears and pro- ' testations of many old soldiers among them, ■ were marched off to a jail two miles distant. On parade the native regiments, overawed by the presence of a battalion of the 60th , Rifles, the Carbineers, and men of the Royal Artillery, had moved neither hand nor foot, but here the prisoners were left entirely in the custody of their countrymen. A rescue was accordingly planned, and speedily effected. The next day a number of the 3rd Bengal Cavalry rode over to the jail, broke into the cells, and released the prisoners, whose manacles were struck off by smiths brought with them by the rioters. Hereupon the two native infantry regiments at once rose in rebellion, seized their arms, killed Colonel Finnis, who thus became the first victim of the mutiny, and massacred a number of the English inhabitants of Meerut, being joined in this outbreak by the rabble and scum of the city. The English portion of the garrison, under General Hewett and Brigadier Wilson, opened upon the mutineers with a fire of artillery and musketry ; where- upon the latter at once broke and fled, leaving the English masters of the field. Delhi and the Great Mogul; The Hidden and Unsuspected Danger. And now came the event that converted a local, though dangerous, outbreak into a national revolt, that shook the English Empire in India to its very foundations, and brought the ruling people face to face with dangers such as might have appalled the iron heart of Clive himself. Driven from their cantonments, the insurgents betook them- selves in headlong haste to Delhi, situate on the Ganges and the Jumna, some forty miles away. This great city had for centuries been the capital of India, the metropolis of that mighty Mogul Empire which had retained amid a rapid internal decay the outward semblance of strength and prosperity, even under the sway of the degenerate successors of Aurungzebe, the last really great emperor of the house of Timour. At Delhi, in the precincts of the palace, there lived, in a con- dition of degraded and impotent dependence, an old man between eighty and ninety years of age, in receipt of a pension from the East India Company, and keeping up with his sons and grandsons the semblance and shadow of a royal state. This man was the Mogul, the descendant of Aurungzebe, whose power had long since departed, but who, in the eyes of many of the natives, was still the rightful ruler of Hindostan. A quarter of a century before, Macaulay, writing of the foundation of the British Empire in India, had mentioned how "there was still a Mogul,"apensioner of the Company, who was allowed to play at holding courts and receiv- ing petitions within the confines of the palace of Delhi, where he might boast of possessing some of the outward attributes of royalty, but who had less power to help or to harm than the youngest official in the Com- 38 INDIA'S AGONY. pany's service. The brilliant essayist little dreamt what mighty power for harm was destined to be placed in the hands of the effete old man. The mutineers, who by an unaccount- able fatality were allowed to proceed to Delhi unpursued, at once made their way to the palace, and rattled the old king out ot his repose. They thronged with shouts and clamours round his palace ; they insisted that he should accept their homage and services ; they proclaimed him Emperor of India, and set upon the battlements of the palace of Delhi the standard of a national revolutionary war, whose object was to be nothing less than the restoration of the royal house of Tamerlane. Not a soul of the accursed race of Feringhees, " who proposed to destroy caste, and to rob the natives of India of their religion," was to remain alive. A cause and a cry and a king had all been found at once. Here was the result ot allowing the mutineers of Meerut to betake themselves unpursued to Delhi : a military riot turned into a national revolt. The Spread of the Mutiny ; Massacre AT Delhi. Two centuries and a half before, that pro- found historian and philosopher, Lord Bacon, had remarked : '• The causes and motives for sedition are innovations in relig- ion, taxes, alterations of laws and customs, breaking of privileges, general oppression, advancement ofunworthy persons, strangers, deaths, disbanded soldiers, factions grown desperate, and whatever in offending people joineth and knitteth them in a common cause." Wonderfully close is the application of those words of wisdom to the events ot 1857. Every one of the "causes of sedition" enumerated by the great Lord Chancellor, was at work in India in that year ; and the result was "to knit men together in a com- mon cause " to an extent undreamt of and unparalleled in India until then. For the great city of Delhi made common cause, promptly and decidedly, with the mutineers. The regiments in garrison then rose against their officers, many of whom were at once put to death. The English bungalows in the neighbourhood of Delhi were looted and fired, a rabble of Hindoo gipsies, de- lighted at the opportunity for mischief and plunder, lying in wait on the roads to kill the Europeans as they fled from their burning homes. In the town itself a massacre of the white residents began ; hundreds fell and the rest of the white population — merchants, officers, and officials, clergymen, and traders, men, women, and children — fled from the revolted city, many perishing by the way before they reached Meerut and other havens of refuge. The heroic resolution of Lieu- tenant Willoughby and a few brave com- panions, who, by firing a magazine, deprived the rebels of at least a part of the great stores of war material piled up in Delhi, was of immense importance in this moment of supreme danger ; but for the time all was lost in Delhi. About fifty prisoners, men, women, and children, were kept for five days in an underground apartment of the palace, and then ruthlessly slaughtered. Prompt Measures of Lord Canning; The Two Lawrences and Outraim. When the news of the calamities in the North-West Provinces reached Calcutta, the feeling was one of mingled rage and alarm. It was a most unfortunate moment for such an outbreak ; lor the proportion of native troops in the Company's service was out of all calculation greater than that of the English soldiers, on whom reliance could be placed — being 200,000 Sepoys as against 38,000 Europeans, the Bengal forces being composed of 118,000 natives and 22,000 Europeans. Moreover, the Eui'opean troops were mostly posted either on the Afghan or the Pegu frontier ; and the 1,200 miles between Calcutta and the Sutlej was occupied almost entirely by the native army. The action of Lord Canning, the Governor-General, was prompt and vigorous. With admirable decision, and an assumption of responsibility worthy of a Wellington or a Nelson, he at once wrote to Lord Elgin and Lord Ashburnham, and pre- vailed on them to call back the troops des- tined for the China expedition to the rescue of India. One very fortunate circumstance must be chronicled, in a time when almost all the chances seemed against the English in India. A war in which we had been in- volved with Persia had just been brought to a conclusion ; and the expeditionary force, under Sir James Outram, having inflicted a crushing defeat on the Persians before it was known that the peace for which the latter sued had been signed at Paris, his army and his services were available for combating the dangers in India. Every man whose fidelity could be relied on — every musket and bayonet that could be made available for the service — was urgently required ; for the insurrection spread like a bush fire in Australia, or a conflagration on an American prairie. At Indur and at Azimghur, at Jelanpore and Allahabad, there were fierce and dangerous outbreaks, the example of Meerut and Delhi being followed ; and there seemed an immediate prospect of the in- surrection spreading over the whole of northern India, and that it would soon embrace the Bombay and Madras Pre- sidencies. To the great good fortune of the British rule >" India, never in such imminent peril 39 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. as at that awful moment, Lord Canning proved equal to the occasion. That statesman, a son of the great George Canning, shared with his illustrious father the disadvantage of being misunderstood during his hfe, and had but scant justice done to his memory after his death. Because he refused to acquiesce in the frantic demand for indiscriminate ven- geance upon all the "nigger" soldiery, and heard and weighed dispassionately every piece of intelhgence brought to him, re- serving to himself the right of forming his own judgment and acting upon it, he was somewhat sneeringly dubbed, " Clemency Canning," and twitted by newspapers for having had more regard for the revolted Sepoys than for his massacred countrymen and their wives and children ; but when the excitement and the frenzy for vengeance had given place to more moderate counsels, the man who during the crisis had never lost his head was reluctantly acknowledged by many of his former opponents to have been in the right. He at once saw the necessity of re- capturing Delhi at all hazards, well knowing the moral effect the fall of the head- quarters and chief centre of the rebellion would have upon the insurgents ; and accordingly took measures for the siege. One very fortunate circumstance was the presence in the newly annexed Punjaub of two of the most splendid soldiers and administrators who ever wielded power in India — the brothers Sir John and Sir Henry Lawrence, the former destined to become Viceroy of the country he helped to save, the latter to die a soldier's death _ in the performance of his duty. By unflinching firmness he stamped out the rebellion in the Punjaub before it had taken firm hold. By the holding of the Punjaub by the Queen's troops, the mutiny was not only prevented from spreading to the Bombay Presidency, but was, as it were, shut in by definite barriers, until two avenging armies from opposite quarters came to crush it out. Judicious Measures at Meean Meer; General Anson and his Command. The story of the disarming of the native regiments at Meean Meer, who were on the eve of a rebellious outbreak, will give an idea of the union of astuteness and firmness with which the Lawrences and other officers, civil and military, met the danger that had so suddenly come upon them. \ historian of our own day has thus summarised one of the most important events of a year of sur- prises : — " A parade was ordered for day- break at Meean Meer (in the Punjaub), and on the parade ground an order was given for a military movement which brought the heads of four columns of the native troops in front of twelve guns charged with grape, the t!\rtillery-men, with their port-fires lighted, and the soldiers of one of the Queen's regiments standing behind with loaded muskets. A command was given to the Sepoys to pile arms. They had immediate death before them if they disobeyed. They stood literally at the cannons' mouth. They piled their arms, which were borne away at once in carts by European soldiers, and all chances of a rebellious movement were over in that province, and the Punjaub was saved." At Mooltan the native troops were disarmed in similar fashion. And not only was the Pun- jaub preserved to British rule by having a. statesman and a hero at its head, but became a basis of operations against the rebels in the revolted provinces, and a means for isolating the disaffected districts. At the head of the forces who marched to. the siege of Delhi was General Anson, the Commander-in-Chief. This General had no opportunity of trying conclusions with the rebels, for he fell a victim to cholera — one of the foes with whom the armies had to contend during that terrible year — on the 27th of May. Not unnaturally impatient for the recapture of Delhi, on which such mighty issues depended, the British public, and especially a portion of the press, were inclined to do scant justice to him. Those were the days of family influence and political jobbery, and the appointment of General Anson was severely criticised. The leading journal de- scribed the Commander-in-Chief as a holiday soldier, who had never seen service either in peace or in war, and as one whom a shame- less job had sent at one step from Tattersall's and Newmarket to the command of an army in one of the Presidencies. When a vacancy occurred in the chief command of 300,000' men, the authorities at home at once re- cognised the claims of family and personal acquaintance in the disposal of the post. Successive Commanders ; the Re-taking OF Delhi. General Anson appears to have done his best. Be that as it may, he died on the march ; and shortly afterwards his successor. Sir Henry Barnard, followed him, his mind giving way under the strain suddenly put upon him ; his very anxiety to fulfil his task hastened his end. He died of cholera early in July, after an illness of only six or seven hours, — so swiftly does that dread disease claim its victims in the burning climate of India. Captain, afterwards General, KnollySy Sir Hope Grant's aide-de-camp, who has left us a graphic account of the events of that time, tells us that, like General Anson,, Barnard suffered little pain, " and had wasted away at the last, quite unconscious." After he was taken ill, his mind wandered, and he continually repeated, "Tell Grant to take 40 INDIA'S AGONY. 4.1 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. out all the cavalry. Tell Reed I have sent up the 6oth to support him." General Reed, who succeeded to the command, suffered so much from ill health that he had to return to the Punjaub; and to Brigadier- General Wil- son, an energetic, sound-headed officer, who knew his work, was allotted the task of taking Delhi from the rebels. He accomplished it with great gallantry, but not without the loss of many brave officers and men, Brigadier Nicholson being among the slain. It was not until the middle of September that he was so far reinforced by the arrival of Sikhs and Goorkas that an assault of the enormous place, with its immense stretch of walls and its large host of desperate Sepoy defenders, fighting with ropes round their necks, became possible. The scenes at the taking of Delhi were appalling ; the shrieking, yelling Sepoys, knowing they had no mercy to expect from their assailants, fought from street to street and from house to house. They numbered at least 30,000, while the attacking force could not muster 7,000. No quarter was given, and the unhappy city was deluged with blood. To such a pitch of fury were the besiegers worked up by the massacres that had taken place, of peaceful citizens, women, and chil- dren, that many were with difficulty deterred from laying Delhi even with the dust, as an expiatory offering to murdered innocence. Captain Hodson, of "Hodson's Horse," AND THE Princes of Delhi. One event so tragic in character as to stand prominently forth even in those days of horror, was numbered among the deplorable incidents of the war, when the first fury of vindictive passion had subsided. Captain Hodson, the commander of an irregular body of cavalry known as " Hodson's horse," undertook the capture of the King of Delhi and his family. The wretched old potentate, the last of the Moguls, who at nearly ninety years of age had been set up as a puppet, to give the rebellion a name and a character, had taken refuge with some followers in a place known as the Hummayoon's tomb, about five miles from Delhi. Thither Captain Hodson rode out, with a party of his Sowars, or horsemen ; and imperatively ordering the natives in the courtyard to lay down their arms, a command which they, presuming from his confident manner that a considera- ble force was at hand, sulkily obeyed, he sent a message to the king, desiring him to surrender, and promising that his life should be spared. Accordingly the last of the Moguls came forth, and was at once placed in a small bullock waggon and conveyed to the town, where he was securely lodged as a prisoner in the palace. He remained in close captivity until his death. So far there was nothing to be objected to in a daring and well-timed exploit that had delivered into the power of the British a feeble old man who, as a puppet in the hands of rebel chiefs, might be made dangerous. But Captain Hodson's next exploit was of a more ambitious kind. Next day, hearing that several relatives of the Mogul were still in the tombs, he rode forth again, and by means of the treacherous native he had employed to communicate with the king, two younger sons of the Mogul and a grandson, the Shah- zada, or heir-apparent, were induced to come forth and surrender themselves uncondition- ally. It is idle to assert that they did not do this on an implied supposition that their lives, too, would be spared. The remainder of the narrative may be given as Hodson himself told it to Sir Hope Grant, who entered it in his journal within a few hours. After long persusaion from the man sent to them, the princes came forth, and were at once driven away in a bullock gharry, or small covered coach, Hodson following them. When within a couple of miles of Delhi, "where no one could interfere," this officer in the British service halted the gharry, called forth the captives, and after reproach- ing them with their guilt, which they strenu- ously denied, declaring that they had had no hand in the massacre at Delhi, he constituted himself judge, jury, and executioner, by shooting them dead one after another ; and this when they were not men captured in fight, but who had surrendered certainly with the idea that they were to be delivered into the hands of the British, to be protected at least until they could suffer lawful censure for such faults as could be proved upon them. The brave officer who took down this narrative from the lips of Sir Hope Grant, deplores this slaying of the princes as a " sad act that was most uncalled for ; " yet there were many in England who at that time were ready to laud it as a piece of good service. So much can war and passion blunt the feelings of justice and humanity. The unhappy King is described by an officer who visited him in his prison as an old man, said by one of his servants to be ninety years of age, short in stature, slight, very fair for a native, and with.a high-bred, delicate-looking cast of features. All the dignity of the great Mogul had departed. "It might have been supposed that death would have been prefe- rable to such humiliation," says the writer ; " but it is wonderful how we all cling to the shreds of life. When I saw the poor old man, he was seated on a wretched charpoy, or native bed, with his legs crossed before him, and swinging his body backwards and forwards with an unconscious, dreamy look." It appears almost absurd to tax such a wreck with the atrocities of Delhi. 42 INDIA'S AGONY. Nana Sahib of Bithoor ; The Darkest Scene of the Tragedy. We now come to the most ghastly of all the tragic events of the mutiny, — a crime that stands out in its exceptional atrocity even among the sanguinary events of the terrible chronicle of India in the fatal year 1857. The whole page of Indian history of that time is stained with blood ; but the story of Cawnpore and Nana Sahib shows a black- ness of crime and treachery that marks it as infinitely more horrible than even the massa- cre of the Black Hole at Calcutta. The whole transaction is an illustration of the old axiom that "injured men will turn and hate;" and Oriental hatred is of the deadly, long- enduring, sullen kind, unmitigated by any touch of Christian feeling or pity ; lying in wait for years, if need be, but finding an opportunity to satiate itself in the blood of an enemy at last. The great and important military station •of Cawnpore, situated about fifty miles from Lucknow, on the high road to Oude, and numbering about 1,000 European and Eur- asian inhabitants to a native population of some 60,000, was occupied at the breaking out of the mutiny by a garrison chiefly of native soldiers, with 300 English officers and soldiers, under the command of a veteran general, Sir Hugh Wheeler. A few miles higher up the river Ganges is situated the small town of Bithoor ; and Bithoor had been appointed years before as the residence of the Peishwa of Poonah, Bagee Rao, whose territory had been annexed by the East India Company, and to whom a consider- able pension had been awarded on his deprivation. Bagee Rao, the last of a powerful Mahratta house, had adopted as his son and heir, Seereck Dhoordoo Punth, who afterwards gained a tragic celebrity as the Nana Sahib of Bithoor ; and on the death of Bagee Rao, the adopted son ex- pected, according to Oriental usage, that the pension accorded to the Peishwa would be continued to him. But the Company and Lord Dalhousie could sometimes be econo- mical in the wrong place ; and the pension was cut off at Bagee Rao's death. Nana Sahib, aghast at such a decrease in his revenues, though he was still a wealthy man, in 1854 sent as an agent to London, to advocate his claim, a young Mahometan, originally of low birth, a certain Azimoolah Khan, who became a kind of "lion" for a season in London, like Rammun Loll in Thackeray's " New- comes," who, according to the description of that acute observer, Barnes Newcome, had some of the elite of the ladies of Vanity Fair " snuggling up to his indiarubber face." Azimoolah Khan returned to his master un- successful so far as his mission was con- cerned ; but it was the time of the Crimean war and its disasters, and he brought back highly coloured stories of the calamities the English were enduring, and of the alleged decline of their influence and power ; and appears to have inflamed the black heart of Nana Sahib with the hope of gratifying at once his ambition and his revenge. Mean- while, however, he maintained an outward appearance of friendliness to the English, to whom, indeed, he often displayed an ostenta- tious and splendid hospitality ; and when the mutiny spread from Meerut to Cawnpore, and poor Sir Hugh Wheeler was in dire straits and waited in vain for reinforcements, while Sir Henry Lawrence, who_, straining every nerve to hold his own against the rebels at Lucknow, could not spare him a single man. Sir Hugh turned for assistance to his good neighbour the Rajah of Bithoor ; for he had been obliged to take refuge with the Europeans in an old military hospital whose defences were in as bad a state as those of Arcot a century before, when Clive and his handful of troops undertook the defence of the place against the 10,000 assailants brought against him by Rajah Sahib. The Nana responded to the appeal ; but on his arrival the mutineers pressed him to make common cause with them ; and whatever may have been his intentions on his arrival, he acceded to their proposal, and ranged himself on the side of the foe, who swarm.ed round the wretched mud-wall be- hind which were huddled, in the direst dis- tress, about a thousand persons, men, women, and children ; the number of combatants being under four hundred. The Massacre on the Ganges. Even in this extremity the high courage and skill of the dominant race asserted itself in an unmistakable manner. An attempt to storm the place failed ; and an urgent mes- sage was sent to Sir Henry Lawrence, who, however, could do nothing. Exposed to every hardship, straitened for provisions, and only able to procure water at the direst peril, the heroic garrison still held out, though its numbers were wofuUy thinned ; and when a renewed assault by a large body of Oudh mutineers upon the entrenchments was repulsed. Nana Sahib's heart began to fail him, and he understood that if reinforce- ments arrived, he was a ruined man. Accordingly he entered into negociations with the beleagured garrison, promising quar- ter to all " who had not been implicated in the actions of Lord Dalhousie ; " and it was arranged that the garrison should evacuate the place, and be conveyed in the great thatched boats used on the Ganges to Allahabad, it being stipulated that the boats should be adequately provisioned for the 43 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. journey. There was rejoicing among the poor survivors of that dismal siege, at the prospect of rehef from the horrors that had so long environed them ; the women and children especially were glad to get away >^ from Cawnpore on any terms : and a long •' procession moved down towards the boats, « carefully leading or carrying the numerous ,; sick and wounded. But at a given signal, the r blowing of a bugle, the native rowers set fire ''- to the thatched roofs of the boats, and then sprang overboard and made for the shore ; while from the banks of the river a shower of bullets poured upon the unhappy passen- gers . The greater number were killed then and there ; Tantia Topee, the lieutenant of Nana Sahib, superintending the work. The women and children who survived the mur- derous fire of musketry were relanded, and marched back, a melancholy, dismal train, to Cawnpore ; the men whom the bullets had spared were put to death at once ; with the exception of four who, after incredible hard- ships and dangers, managed to effect their escape to the English forces. The women and children, 125 in number, were confined in a small building, afterwards distinguished by a sinister celebrity as the yellow house, where they had hardly room to move. A fifth of their number were soon dead of cholera or dysentery ; the rest remained from day to day with the fear of death on them. The Turn of the Tide ; The Vengeance OF A Baffled Tiger. Meanwhile Nana Sahib began to realise that the mutiny had failed. The defeat of the Oudh men, in spite of the favourable circumstances under which their assault was made, was a heavy blow and surprise to him ; and with every fiendish propensity in his black heart intensified by the prospect of approaching retribution, — for he knew the British, under Havelock, were advancing victoriously towards the rebellious city, — he seems to have determined, at least, to enjoy the satisfaction of a complete revenge. Accordingly it was announced to the captives that their doom was death. The manner in which that doom was inflicted has no parallel for horrors, except perhaps in the massacre of September 1792, in the days of the great French Revolution. Five men were sent one evening to the house where the unhappy prisoners were immured. Two of them were butchers by trade, two Hindoo peasants, and the fifth wore the Nana's uni- form. These wretches slaughtered the English women and children, as they would have slaughtered cattle ; one of them appearing at the door twice, to exchange his broken sword for a new weapon. When the last shriek from within the building had died away, and all was still in the charnel house, the executors of the Nana's orders emerged from the horrible scene of the atrocity, lock- ing the door behind them. Next day the bodies of the murdered victims were flung into a dry well, where they were found, a ghastly heap, when Cawnpore was taken by j the English force." When the house of the f massacre itself was entered, its floor and its walls told with terrible plainness of the scene k they had witnessed. The plaster of the walls ';,\ was scored and seamed with sword slashes x low down and in the corners, as if the poor women had crouched down in their mortal fright, vdth some wild hope of escaping the blows. The floor was strewn with scraps of dresses, women's faded, ragged finery, frilling, underclothing, broken combs, shoes, and tresses of hair. Among the most sorrowful of these mementos were a quantity of broken toys, stained with blood. But one part of the hideous story, as at first circulated among the horror-stricken English, is happily un- true. An inscription, in which some unhappy captive is represented as calling upon her countrymen for revenge for unutterable wrong inflicted upon the prisoners, was shown to be a forgery, written up long after- wards, probably to stimulate still further the thirst for vengeance that these things naturally excited. What became of the fiendish Rajah of Bithoor was never known. When Cawnpore was taken by the English he fled first to Bithoor and then in the direction of Nepaul ; and though more than once the memory of these things was revived by a rumour of his capture, the rumour always proved untrue, and in this world the fate of Nana Sahib will probably always remain a mystery. The Struggle in Oudh ; Sir Henry Lawrence, " who endeavoured to do HIS Duty." In Oudh, Sir Henry Lawrence, the Governor, struggled against the mutineers with equal valour and judgment. The over- whelming numbers against him compelled him to retreat to the Residency at Lucknow, which he fortified to the utmost of his power, as a tower of refuge for the Europeans of the district. In this stronghold he was quickly besieged ; and after a few weeks of heroic struggle, he was mortally wounded by the explosion of a shell. " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty," was the epitaph the grand, simple-hearted soldiers desired to have erected over his tomb. With him died one of the noblest men who ever drew the sword for the defence of the English in India. Meanwhile, great efforts were being made to relieve Lucknow. General Havelock was marching to raise the siege, and in a series of engagements with the rebels, beat them 44 INDIA'S AGONY. time after time under circumstances of such disadvantage as plainly showed that the days when the English in India had ceased to reckon the number of the foe had not passed away. Indeed, in the time of the mutiny, a general thought himself well off if the odds against him were not more than four or five to one. Henry Havelock— A Christian Hero : His Exploits and Services. Among the great and remarkable names of that memorable year, none shines with gayer spirits, especially as his strong cha- racter influenced many around him, and " Havelock's saints" and their camp-services became a noted feature in the army. It was quickly found, however, that as with Cromwell's pikemen and troopers two cen- turies before, so with Havelock's " saints," piety in no way interfered with military efficiency. If they feared God, "they un- doubtedly also kept their powder dry," and fought their way through hordes of rebels with a determined persistency and a splendid valour that aroused the admiration even of ll!|i'r ■' Mr. Ka\ THROUGH THE REBEL ArMY AT LUCKNOW. a purer lustre than that of Henry Havelock. A quiet, modest man, and without the ad- vantage of influential connections, he was little known beyond his immediate circle, though his career had been long and honourable, dating from before the Burmese war of 1824. A grave, studious character, he had been known already in his boyish days at the Charterhouse School as " Old Phlos," or philosopher, while his serious and religious turn of mind — he belonged to the Baptist community — had drawn a good deal of attention, and occasionally a little satire upon him, among the wilder and far-off Europe ; and among his countrymen in England the name of Havelock became a household word during that troublous autumn. Sir James Outram had been appointed Chief Commissioner in Oudh, and hastened to join his force to Havelock's little army. With splendid generosity he declined to take the position of commander, to which his seniority and his official rank entitled him, and declared he would appear merely in his civil capacity as Commissioner, and would place himself and his men at Havelock's disposal, for that the general who had made 45 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. such gallant and strenuous efforts to relieve j Lucknow should have the honour of com- pleting the work. It was indeed a tremendous march from Calcutta to Lucknow, through a country swarming with enemies, in the burning summer heat. After a short rest at Allahabad, Havelock had pushed on with about 1,400 men, and his brilliant victory over the rebels at Futtipoor formed an epoch in the great achievements of the year. On the 13th of July, Havelock and his men were before Cawnpore ; and here it was that Nana Sahib came out against him with his whole force, only to be completely defeated, and vanish into the darkness from which he never afterwards emerged. A tremendous vengeance was wreaked on the Sepoys and on Cawnpore for the murder of the English women and children. The sight of the terrible well, and ghastly relics found in the prison-house, had for a time driven all feel- ings of mercy from the hearts of the British ; and public opinion in England, as exhibited in the press, was all on the side of revenge, and no quarter to the enemy ; until at length Mr. Disraeli asked in Parliament whether the standard of morality of Nana Sahib was to be chosen for imitation by Englishmen in India. Vengeance on the Sepoys ; Wholesale Slaughter and Executions. What kind of retribution was exercised on the rebels who fell into the hands of the avengers of blood is shown by the report of the English General Cooper, at a period shortly subsequent to that of which we are writing. The General tells a plain, unvarnished tale of the fate of the rebel Sepoys v/ho fell into his hands ; — how he had them bound together in batches of ten, and thus shot down on the place of execution, where firing parties awaited their arrival, — how, when about 150 had been shot, one of the oldest executioners of the prison fainted away, over- come by the horrible din, the yells, shrieks, and frantic struggles of the captives, as mad- dened with rage and terror they were dragged lo the place of execution, and a pause had pen'orce to be made in the proceedings, — now, the work of death being presently re- sumed, and when 237 corpses lay stretched upon the plain, it was reported that the prisoners refused to quit their prison, where- upon orders were given to burst open the door ; and then it was found that the tragedy of the Black Hole of Calcutta had been repeated, and forty-five corpses of suffo- cated men were dragged from the loathsome dungeon, — how the corpses of the suffocated men, and of those who had been shot, were flung by the sweepers into a common pit, — how forty fugitive Sepoys, captured on the road to Lahore, were blown away from the muzzles of cannons at one time, in the pre- sence of disaffected native regiments,— and how 500 were thus speedily despatched. It it a gruesome report, that of General Cooper, and hardly seems to belong to civilization and the nineteenth century. Help in Need ; Arrival of Sir Colin Campbell ; Outram and Havelock at Lucknow. With an energy taxed to the utmost by the consciousness that the lives of the garrison of Lucknow depended upon speedy succour, and that a second Cawnpore massacre would but too probably be the termination of the de- fence unless they arrived in time, Havelock and his men pressed on, in spite of hardship, want, and disease, towards the gates of Lucknow. After beating the enemy in nine battles, Havelock at length reached Luck- now towards the end of September. But even with the reinforcement of Outram, the army amounted only to 5,600 men ; while the enemy numbered 50,000. It was not without heavy loss that they fought their way through the rebels into the citadel, where they were received by their countrymen with transports of joy and thankfulness. But Havelock's force, combined with that of Colonel Inglis, on whom the defence of Lucknow had devolved after Sir Henry Law- rence's death, was too feeble to transport the sick and wounded, with the women and children, to Cawnpore, as had been intended. In the hard fighting between the 19th and the 25th of September, 535 men had been lost — more than a fifth of the whole army ; all that could be done, therefore, was to reinforce the exhausted garrison, and wait until fresh help should come ; the enemy meanwhile resum- ing the siege with renewed vigour, swarming in their thousands around the beleagured city, and harassing the besieged day and night ; while scarcity of provisions increased their woes by the imminent prospect of famine. Help was sorely needed, and it was coming in the most effectual shape. General Sir Colin Campbell, the Hero of the Alma, was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the troops in India, and ordered to proceed at once from London to the seat of his com- mand. On the very next day the stout old soldier was already on his way to the East. Napoleon's officers were accustomed to say that they could scent the Emperor's approach in the air, and the same might almost be said of Sir Colin Campbell. His arrival gave fresh courage to the sorely tried troops ; and from the day of his landing in India with his gallant little army, it was seen that the fate of the mutiny was sealed. Sir Colin reached Lucknow on the 14th of November, and re- lieved the little garrison of Alum Bagh, a cluster of buildings with an enclosed garden 46 INDIA'S AGONY, to the south of Lucknow, where Havelock on his arrival at Lucknow had established 400 men with his sick and wounded, not anticipa- ting that he himself would be shut up within the city. Sir Colin's force now numbered some 5,000 men. and he was compelled to act with caution. He knew, moreover, the effect a check to his troops might have upon the rebels, who were becoming demoralised at the steady and resistless advance of the scanty bands of avengers who came upon them like fate, not to be turned back ; and he could not therefore afford to make any mistake that might weaken this impression. Accordingly, when Outram and Havelock had been set free, and the enemy dislodged, he removed the women and the sick and wounded to the Dilkoosha, a palace about five miles from the Residency, which, like the Alum Bagh, he had taken before entering Lucknow. Thereupon he established his troops at the Alum Bagh, for a time evacu- ating Lucknow. And here, a few days afterwards, the illustrious career of Havelock came to a close. Worn out by the incessant toils of the last months, by bodily and mental labour, and by care and sleepless nights, the old hero was attacked by dysentery at the Alum Bagh, and died quietly and calmly in the consciousness of duty well fulfilled, and a life work nobly accomplished. The news of his achievements had reached England, and ex- cited a glow of pride and sympathy in every breast. The Clubs rang with his praises, and the Queen acknowledged his services by apension, a baronetcy, and the K.C.B. But on the day when the baronetcy was conferred in London, the hero was already sleeping in a soldier's grave, in the garden of the Alum Ba^h, beneath a tree, on which the single letter "H." sufficed to show where Havelock was laid. A general outburst of regret arose in London at the news of his death. Even Punch, the jester of the press, recorded in some noble lines the loss England had sus- tained, telling how — '' He is gone : Heaven's will is best ; Indian turf o'erlies his breast. Ghoule in black, nor fool in gold, Laid him in that hallowed mould ; Borne unto a soldier's rest By the bravest and the best," etc. The Exploit of Mr. Kavan^gh of Luck- now ; Heroism among the Civilians. In connection with the defence of Lucknow, as with all the episodes of that troublous time, many individual deeds of daring and heroism are recorded ; but none surpasses the achievement of a civil functionary, Mr. Kavanagh, who, disguised as a native, made his way from Lucknow through the lines of the beleaguring rebel army, to carry in- telligence to Sir Colin Campbell of the state of things within the Residency. " How he could ever have made himselflook like a native I know not," says Dr. Russell, the Times correspondent, who met Kavanagh afterwards at Lucknow. " He is a square-shouldered, large-limbed, muscular man, a good deal over the middle height, with decided European features ; a large head, covered with hair of— a reddish auburn, shall 1 say? moustaches and beard still lighter ; and features and eyes such as no native that ever I saw possessed. He has made himself famous by an act of remarkable courage— not in the heat of battle or in a moment of impulse or excitement, but performed after deliberation, and sustained continuously through a long trial." The achievement was certainly a wonderful one ; for if any sharp-witted Hindoo or Mussul- man had got an inkling of the nationality of the stranger, his death would have been speedy and certain. The Final Throes of the Mutiny? Restoration of Order ; The End of the East India Company. Leaving Sir James Outram in command at Alum Bagh, with orders to watch the rebels in Lucknow, Sir Colin Campbell advanced to the relief of General Windham at Cawnpore. Sir Colin was censured in some quarters for evacuating Lucknow, and many spoke of the moral effect that would have been produced had he held that place at all hazards ; but as the Tz'wz^j judiciously observed: "The Com- mander-in-Chief had to consider the whole plan of the campaign, as well as the circum- stances at Lucknow, and he was compelled also to take into consideration the political objects of the Government." And the sequel showed how true had been the judgment of the gallant chief, and how fairly he earned the peerage that was at this time awarded him. During the time he waited at Cawnpore, the reinforcements that had been despatched from Calcutta and elsewhere had time to come forward, so that operations could be undertaken on a large scale and with a view to a result as a whole. The " moral effect " produced by the 'arrival of new troops in discouraging the rebels, and in impressing upon them the fact that their resistance was useless, was of far greater importance than the holding of a place that the Commander could retake at any time. The year 185S began under favourable auspices. The neck of the mutiny had been broken, and there was full confidence that Sir Colin Campbell, or as he must now be called, Lord Clyde, would successfully terminate his task. New reinforcements arrived at the Upper Ganges, from the Punjaub and Calcutta. Sir Hugh Rose took Kalperand Jhansi from the rebels, upon whom a terrible vengeance was inflicted. 47 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. On the 19th of June he recaptured Gwahor, and the last hope of the insurgents was gone. Meanwhile, on the 5th of March, 1858, Lucknow finally fell into the hands of the English, under Lord Clyde. The slaughter of the rebels was great, and the plunder found in the city immense. The English soldiers rushed to and fro, offering jewels of enormous size and great value to who- soever would purchase them for a few gold pieces. Dr. Russell, who was present at the capture, relates how an excited Irish- man offered him a splendid necklace for a hundred rupees, which, alas ! the Tunes correspondent had not in his pocket ; and the soldier, though he reduced his demand to two mohurs and a bottle of rum, would not hear of sending to the camp for the money, and would entertain nothing but "ready-money" offers, on the reasonable ground that he himself might be dead with a bullet through his heart before evening. The necklace, it seems, fell into the hands of an officer, who sold it to a jeweller for £7,Soo. On May 5th, in the battle of Bareilly, another victory was scored for Lord Clyde ; and after that time the resistance was merely sporadic, though in many instances the in- surgents, who expected no mercy, fought desperately. Among the most determined of those who braved the EngUsh in the open field was the Ranee of Jhansi, who fought like a Boadicea at the head of her troops, and everywhere showed remarkable heroism. Tantia Topee, Nana Sahib's villainous lieu- tenant, was hunted down, captured, and most justly hanged. A proclamation was issued by the Governor- General granting an amnesty to those rebels who had not taken immediate part in the murder of British subjects, and who returned to their allegiance by January, 1859. At the same time it was announced to the people of India that Queen Victoria had thought fit, by the advice of her Parliament, to annul the charter of the East India Company, and that henceforth Hindo- stan would be governed as a direct possession of the British Crown, with a Viceroy in place of a Governor-General. This change had been brought about by the India Bill of August 2nd, 1858. Thus ended the rule of the East India Company as the governing power in India, — a dominion unexampled in the history of the world. In many respects that rule had been faulty, and in some even criminal. It is impossible to look without shame upon some pages in the history even of such men as Clive and Warren Hastings ; but on the other hand there had been numberless in- stances of the truest valour, the loftiest heroism, and the wisest statesmanship ; and at no time had these appeared more con- spicuously than in the period of India's agony, in the great Sepoy Mutiny of 1857. H. W. D. "The Well at Caunj)ore 48 Ridley and Latimer at the Place of Execution. THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND THE STORY OF ENGLISH PROTESTANTISM. A Typical Life— A Cambridge Fellow— Black Joan — Result of a Supper Party— An Aged Martyr — Origin of the Revolution — Langland and the Lollards — Burning of Cobham — Printing Press — Dean Colet — The New Learning — The Christian Brethren — Squire Tracy's Will— Passion and Pope -Wolsey's Fall and Prophecy — Its Progress — Henry's Divorce — A Married Priest as Archbishop — Sir Thomas More — England Governed by a Blacksmith's Son— A Memorable Parliament — Head of the English Church — The Black Book — Fall of the Monasteries — Captain Cobbler — Pilgrimage of Grace — John Frith, the Genuine Martyr — The First English Confessions of Faith — English Bible in the Churches — Whip of Six Strings — Martyrdom of Lambert and Anne Askew — Progress of Edward's Reign — Book of Common Prayer — Catholic Reaction— The Inquisition— Sir John Cheke — The Martyrs — Rogers, Hooper, Latimer, etc. — Smithfield— Protestant Recovery— Cecil and Parker— Catholic Attempts — ^The Thirty-nine Articles. Black Joan. |OUBTLESS, had he been alive, the Squire of Aslacton, in the famous hunting county of Notts, would have been sadly vexed on hearing that his son Thomas, who held a fellowship in the Uni- versity of Cambridge, had plunged into marriage with Black Joan, a niece of the landlady of the "Dolphin Inn," where he had probably been accustomed to "take his ease." It was a very foolish action of the law student, Thomas Cranmer, for he was compelled to resign his fellowship, and had thenceforth to depend upon the slender and precarious income derived from his thankless labours as a college tutor. But follies and accidents go to make up a great many of the greatest chapters in the volume of history. Had he remained a fellow and a bachelor, his name might have floated un- noticed down the stream of time, only turning up, like thousands of others, as a microscopic object before the eyes of some grubbing anti- quary. As it happened, the young wife died within a year in giving birth to her first child ; and in the deep and sanctified sorrow of his loss, Thomas Cranmer threw away ambition. 49 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. entering the priesthood when nearly forty years of age. He was by no means one of the lights of the University in those its palmy days of European fame, and his twenty-five years of residence passed away in a monotonous lowliness. Although inspired by the leaven of the New Learning, he could not boast of intimacy with the famous Erasmus, who lived close by. This is disappointing, for we should have liiced to graft upon our English apostle the poetry of a close friendship with the Dutch humourist, who did so much by the thrusts of his bright rapier to kill the Papal power. We need not doubt, however, that Thomas Cranmer had a copy of the New Testament of Erasmus, double-columned for the Greek original and Erasmus' Latin version, and that he had well thumbed the bold and brilliant preface which said, " I wish that even the weakest woman should read the Gospels, should read the Epistles of Paul ; and I wish that they were translated into all languages, so that they might be read and understood not only by Scots and Irishmen, but also by Turks and Saracens. I long that the hus- bandman should sing portions of them to himself as he follows the plough, that the weaver should hum them to the tune of his shuttle, that the traveller should beguile with their stories the tedium of his journey." It is perhaps as true of Cranmer as of the Wittenberg Reformer, that Erasmus laid the Ggg, and Cranmer hatched it. A Supper Party. He was now forty-four years of age (1528), when the plague, or sweating-sickness, which flourished like a vigorous toadstool on medi- aeval dirt, proceeded to decimate the students by the banks of the sluggish Cam. Cranmer fled with his two kinsmen and pupils, settling down at Romeland, near Waltham Abbey, the residence of their father, Mr. Cressey. Close by, at Tytynhanger, King Henry had taken up his sanitary refuge. One evening the obscure and timid tutor had the honour of supping at Mr. Cressey's in the company of two great statesmen and churchmen, — Dr. Gardiner, in after days his opponent and a notorious persecutor, and Dr. Fox, Lord High Almoner. Henry and his statesmen were in the heart and worry of a huge trouble, spring- ing out of the King's determination to sever his marriage to Catharine of Arragon, — a de- ) termination that arose partly from his blinding ' passion for a sprightly maid of honour at the Court, partly from a superstition that the marriage had brought the curse of Heaven upon the fruits of the nuptial bed. The pro- posed "divorce" naturally formed the heavy subject of conversation at the supper table. The tutor was enlisted in the warm debate, and with his clear legal mind he expressed his private opinion in a manner that left a strong impression of his power upon the puzzled statesmen. "If the marriage of Henry with Katharine," is the burden of his statement as given by Dean Hook, " was a marriage contrary to the divine law, it was, in point of fact, no marriage at all. ... If there were no marriage at all, then the King was a bachelor ; if the King were a'bachelor, he might marry whom and when he pleased, without any reference to Rome, provided it were not within the forbidden degrees. The fact might be decided by the ordinary ecclesiastical courts of the National Church. Let then the canonists and universities declare that for a man to marry his deceased brother's wife is contrary to the divine law, let the evidence be produced before the ecclesiastical court that Katharine had been married to the King's brother, and the King's cause would be gained." While Thomas Cranmer, who had the peaceful instincts of a Saxon gentleman, was hunting or hawking — his favourite pastimes through life — and doing his little duty to his pupils in the retreat of Essex, thinking himself forgotten, and never dreaming of any big results from his pot-luck conversation at the pleasant supper party, his suggestion was reported to the King, who, with keen sagacity, called for the presence of the hidden genius. "Who is this Dr. Cranmer?" he exclaimed, | "where is he? Is he still at Waltham? \ Marry, I will speak to him ; let him be sent for out of hand. This man, I trow, has got the right sow by the ear." The Aged Martyr. Twenty-eight most memorable years have sunk into the womb of time ; the Bible has been translated, the English liturgy has been read in the churches of the land ; the mass has been doomed and abolished, monks and popery have been robbed and crushed ; Thomas Cranmer has risen to be primate of the English Church ; " bloody Mary " has ascended her father's throne, is undoing all her father's work, and sending the best men among the five millions of England to the scaffold and the fire. In the pelting rain a venerable priest, with long white beard, clad in a black and tattered gown, and wearing an old square cap on his bald but noble head, is walking from his prison to St. Mary's Church through the streets of Oxford, behind the magistrates of the learned city. Thou- p- sands have their eyes fixed upon his worn li, and fated form, and armed soldiers guard || I the streets and watch the crowds. The step \ of the old man is firm. The very image of sorrow, the tears of a child roll down his fatherly face, as he sits in church and hears the preacher denounce him as an heresiarch, and with a touch of ribald humour declares that his life should go as a makeweight to that of three others, so as to balance the death of Bishop Fisher, the S<^ THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. Catholic martyr of King Henry's reign. We look at him again, as he rises from the plat- form before the pulpit, denies the truth of the six recantations he had made of the Protestant faith, while shouts are heard from the astounded audience, " Traitor, dissembler, liar ! " — others weep for joy at the grace and courage of his last hour. And now he walks with smiling face and steady step towards the scaffold ; he strips off his tattered garments till nothing is left upon him but a long white shirt ; crowds press forward to press the hand that had waved many a benediction and done so many kindly deeds ; that right hand which had sinned is held steadily over the crackling flames, except when in a moment of awful agony it is raised to wipe the sweat from his heavenly brow ; steady as a rock stands his frame, and with the peace of an angel his spirit passes to the throne of Eternal Justice, while the last brave words are left behind him to spread through the crowd and England, and to live for ever as a sad and noble monument to the first Pro- testant Archbishop of the English Church, — a sad and noble sermon to England for ever : " Oh ! this unworthy hand ! " Langland and the Lollards. More than a hundred years before the birth of Cranmer, a gaunt, crazy-looking clerk from Shropshire, who sang for a pittance at the gorgeous funerals of London, had his "vision of Piers Plowman" by a burnside among the Malvern Hills. It was a biting satire on the priests and nobles, the friars who " preached the people for profit of their bellies," the jesters, the gluttonous beggars, and other "children of Judas," who preyed upon the poor toilers, such as the farmer who had only two green cheeses, a few curds and cream, a loaf of beans and bran for his children, a cow and a calf, and a cart mare, some parsley and kail, but " no salt bacon, nor no cockneys [lean chickens], by Christ, to make coUops." But at that time there also went through England the mightier voice of John de Wycliffe, a keen, bold, and stubborn Yorkshireman, the greatest contemporary of Geoffrey Chaucer. The persecuted Master (n Balliol College, Oxford, and priest of Luiierworth, hurled forth terrible denuncia- tions against the corruptions of the time, lucidly denied the Popish doctrine of the Eucharist, called for the return of the Church to the poverty of its Divine Founder, and sent forth his Poor Priests in russet garb to plant his heresies over the whole field of England. For rough times he used rough words ; his sentences were fired with a sage fury. Against the magic virtue of monastic robes he declared that " Pilate might have been damned in Christ's clothes ;" he in- veighed against prelates that were "dead to the world and the vanity thereof," for riding with fourscore horses harnessed with silver and gold, and against " Rome runners," who drained the wealth of England by a perpetual stream of unjust appeals. The year of his death was 1384 ; the birth of Thomas Cranmer took place just one hun- dred years later. He left behind him an English version of the Bible, a multitude of vehement tracts, and a vast rebellious host of Lollards. From Cobham to Colet. The Lollards are commonly supposed to have been stamped out by the brutal perse- cution of Henry IV., when Lord Cobham was hung alive in chains and murdered by a slow fire kindled under his feet (141 7). Cer- tainly the fierce organized communism of the Peasants was broken up, because the wrong of serfage — unpaid slavery — was gradually abolished ; but the religious root remained, with fibres struck deep and wide throughout the nation. It had its martyrs during the whole century of time, from the days of Badbie till those of bluff King Hal ; the furious tracts of Wycliffe were spread abroad in manuscript ; and when the printing press came they were the first leaves of " heresy " that flew across the land. It was a living force at the dawn of Henry's reign. ; In 1510, Colet, the great Humanist, had founded St. Paul's School with the wealth of his father, a Lord Mayor of London ; but the old fossil bishops looked askance at his ' " temple of idolatry," and More jested to his 1 friend on its resemblance to the woodeti horse filled with armed Greeks for the destruction of barbarian Troy. When ; preaching at this time before Convocation, Ijy invitation of Archbishop Warham, the friend and patron of Erasmus, he sorely wounded his reverend hearers by declaring that their wicked and worldly life was a worse heresy than that of the two Lollards who had recently been burned by the Bishop of London . He was luckier than Cobham ; though driven into retirement, he died peacefully in 1519. Lollardism lay subdued till a royal des- potism emerged from the Wars of the Roses, and stood above the ruins of the old baron- age, which had thrust itself into the move- ment, not to help the poor, but to grasp the booty of the rotten- Church, — a welcome despotism, a cat (to use the homely mediaeval adage) that would keep down the rats which preyed upon the mice ; and till there crept forth the printing press, established by WiUiam Caxton, who by some peculiar chance was born in the very year in which John Badbie, who denied the Popish dogma of the Eucharist, was burned to death, in the presence of the Prince of Wales, in 141 1. 51 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. WolSey's Dream and Tyndale's Tracts. The English Reformation sprang from no grand moral or intellectual impulse of the self-willed and sensual King Henry VIII. He lived and died professing to be the best of Catholics. The clergy of those times, says the great French humourist, came "from the other world, — part from a marvellous country called Breadless-Day, and part from another called Too-Many-Of-Them." The Church was the common bosom into which were thrown the younger sons and dowerless ■daughters of the great. Children were born with a mitre on their head. Such was the destination of Henry, the second son of the first Tudor sovereign ; he was to ^ become Archbishop of Canterbury, a second A Becket, certainly a cardinal, and probably a pope. He was a friend of the New Learning that liad sailed from Greece after the Turkish capture of Constantinople, and crossing the Alps from Italy had raised in England a Colet, a Linacre, a Fisher, and a More. All his children were educated to the liighest standard ; and it is well known that Queen Elizabeth was one of the most learned and accomplished women of her time. But it was not within his wildest ; dream to depart from the old Faith, and to separate himself from Rome. Had he not — in part against Sir Thomas More's protest as to its dangerous cringing — written a book in reply to the "Babylonian Captivity" of ' Luther, and received as guerdon from the ' Pope the title " Defender of the Faith," so that he stood forth in Europe on a pious level with the sovereigns of France and Spain, •who wore the dignities of " Most Christian " and " Catholic " Kings ? Neither the able, passionate, and ambitious Henry, nor the calm and noble More, nor the learned and unscrupulous Wolsey, had any thought of creating a religious disruption. Their drift was towards culture, and Wolsey actually founded Cardinal (now Christchurch) College, in Oxford, with the spoils of monas- teries. The masses of the people, on the other hand, were being fast leavened by a stronger ferment, by the firstfruits of the printing press, circulated by the " Christian Brethren," a secret society, composed of monks like Bayfield, " printers, booksellers, pedlers, wandering clerks, broken merchants, and other adventurers," who defied the man- dates of Wolsey and his government. They sowed broadcast, especially in London and ithe seaport towns, the tracts of Wyclifife, his disciple Huss, Luther, and Zwingle, and the ferocious onslaughts of "runagate friars" like the noble erelong martyr William Tyndale, ^ho propagated such heresies as that " we are damned of nature, and so conceived and born as a serpent is a serpent, and a toad a toad," etc., that " Christ in all His deeds did not deserve heaven ; " and such alarming socialism, then perhaps politically dangerous, as that " among Christian men love maketh all things common." A more decided action was taken by Henry in 1529 for the suppres- sion of these often scurrilous sheets, Warham, More, Tunstall, Gardiner, and Latimer (what a conglomerate !) being appointed with others to report upon the books deserving of stern condemnation. As result, the King pro- claimed that his most learned men had ad- vised the imprudence of a translation of the Scriptures, as only tending to an increase of error, but he held out the hope that, if the people behaved well by departing from their perverse and seditious opinions and the cor- rupt translations were exterminated, the Holy Scriptures — if his Grace so pleased — "should be by great, learned, and Catholic persons translated into the English tongue." To Henry this proclamation was perhaps a joke, for the merry King laughed in private at the scandalously clever " Book of Beggars ;" while within six months of the "unanimous" report of the Commission, the eloquent and earnest Latimer, who himself indulged in the reproved versions, urged the King with jest and plea to provide a translation of the Scrip- tures, and charged the mischief of the con- demned books to the sloth, ignorance, and " Banbury glosses"of the priests. The bishops and clergy, however, did not let the procla- mation fall as a dead letter, although the hunt had to be paid for out of their own purses. Among those who suffered a cruel death was Richard Bayfield, a former monk at Bury St. Edmunds, " taken at his bookbinder's in Mark Lane, and finally burnt at Smithfield in November, 1531." Even the dead were not allowed to sleep in peace. The most shameless spectacle in this clerical tragi- comedy of persecution was that of raising the body of a Gloucestershire squire named Tracy, which had lain for two years in the grave, and burning it at the stake. This indecent act was the wretched outcome of a verdict by Convocation that his will contained heresy, paid no flattery, and left no money to the Church ; but in spite of the sacred shield that covered the enormity, the natior. was shocked, and the dignitary who had per- petrated it was fined by the King in the goodly sum of three hundred pounds. Passion and Pope. Already, in 1527, Henry had commenced his manoeuvres for a divorce from his " true and loyal wife," who had loved him almost to superstition for eighteen years. Wolsey, who was eager for the divorce, in order to bind Henry to France by another marriage, had the same idea with Pope Clement, that 52 THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. the passion for the maid of honour was only a transient humour, and that the cure for this affliction lay in its degradation into an illicit amour. But Wolsey had only raised a despotic monster that was destined to smite himself, and crown his last days with disgrace and sorrow. When Henry first announced to the Cardinal his intention of marrying Anne Boleyn, Wolsey fell upon his knees with horror ; but his earnest pleadings not only broke in vain upon the firm determina- tion of the King, but fell back upon himself in the complete ruin of his influence. The Pope, in fear that Henry should turn Pro- testant if he did not give way to his demand for a divorce, in fear of the strong Imperial army if he should do so, was at last driven so far in his hesitating game as to appoint Wolsey and another cardinal as his repre- sentatives to hear the case in England. When they had failed to coax the noble and fond wife into a nunnery, and were convinced that nothing but death would " divorce her from her dignities," they opened their court at Blackfiriars after six months of delay. She flung herself at the feet of her lord, who twice tried vainly to raise her up. In broken English she addressed him with a pathos that stirs the heart even at this far distance, in language that has been drawn out and weakened in its force by Shakespeare. " Sire," said the kneeling daughter of the mighty King of Spain, " I beseech you to pity me, a woman and a stranger, without an assured friend and without an indifferent counsellor. I take God to witness that I have always been to you a true and loyal wife, that I have made it my constant duty to seek your pleasure, that I have loved all whom you loved, whether I have reason or not, whether they are friends or foes. I have been your wife for years, I have brought you many children. God knows that when I came to your bed I was a virgin, and I put it to your own conscience to say whether it was not so. If there be any offence which can be alleged against me, I consent to depart with infamy ; if not, then I pray you to do me justice." The puzzled cardinals threw back the burden of decision upon the Pope. Wolsey's stupendous efforts for peace had failed ; his years of mighty toil for raising Henry to the pedestal of a despot were forgotten in view of the witching face and tempting coy- ness of Anne Boleyn. The courts which he had held as legate, with Henry's own consent, were now denounced by the despot as trea- sonable to his own supremacy ; and Wolsey, who had been his most loyal slave, was shorn of his dignities. The maid of honour won from her royal lover a promise that he would see Wolsey's face no more. The Cardinal's cheeks rapidly became hollow with sadness. The King sent him the present of a ring as a little consolation. Within a year the great old statesman, the most loyal of Englishmen the foremost man in Europe, was conducted on a charge of treason, towards the Tower of London. By the way he died, teUing the monks of Leicester that he had come to lay his bones among them. The words uttered on his deathbed are historic. " He is a prince," said he of the idol of brass, gold, and clay that he had raised, "of a most royal courage : sooner than miss any part of his will, he will endanger one half of his kingdom ; and I do assure you I have often kneeled before him, sometimes for three hours together, ,to persuade him from his appetite, and could not prevail. . . . Had I but served God as diligently as I have served the King, He would not have given me over in my grey hairs." Wolsey had discerned, with the prophetic vision of a true statesman, that England stood upon the brink of a popular revolution. By the study of comparative politics, he heard in the rebellious murmurs against the riches of Churchmen the voice of the re-awakened corpse of Lollard socialism ; he knew that religious change was but the herald of a wider revolution, that the sickle of popular freedom would not pause at cutting down the ridge of ecclesiastical power, but would sweep mercilessly over the whole field of despotisin and injustice. " Say furthermore," said the dying statesman, " that I request his Grace,, in God's name, that he have a vigilant eye to depress this new pernicious sect of Lutherans. ... In the history of King Richard the Second, which lived in that same time of Wickliffe's seditious opinions, did not the Commons, I pray you, rise against the king; and the nobles of the realm of England ; whereof some they apprehended, whom they without mercy or justice put to death ? and did they not fall to spoiling and robbery, to the intent they might bring all things in common ? " Our trades-unions and our Land Bills are the historic proofs of the far-reaching vision of the Tudor statesman. Meanwhile the sparkling maid of honour carried matters at Court with a high hand. She and her family were ennobled and en- riched. In November (1529) the Queen was privileged to dine with her long-estranged husband. She complained of her cruel sepa- ration from his bed and board ; to which he surlily replied that she was not his wife, and left the room suddenly in deep dejection. | Clever, selfish Anne, sitting by his side at supper, rallied him with the following delicate reproach : — "Did I not tell you that whenever you disputed with the Queen she was sure to have the upper hand .? I see that some fine morning you will succumb to her reasoning, and that you will cast me off. I have been 53 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. waiting long, and might in the meanwhile have contracted some advantageous marriage, out of which I might have had issue, which is the greatest consolation in the world ; but alas ! farewell to my time and youth, spent to no purpose at all ! " In this deplorable selfishness and dextrous self-control we see the true mother of Eliza- beth, "The Maiden Queen." Protestants ; or Cathohcs, none of us can well bow to the \ eulogy of Gray, that — ' ' Love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel light first dawned from BuUen's eyes."' Cranmer as a Tool, The reluctant tutor of the Cressey boys was brought down from Waltham and installed in the splendid library of Boleyn's father, in i Derham Place (the modern Adelphi), over- looking the ceaseless traffic of the Thames. i.There he composed a book on the King's love .business. Henry's bribery and Cranmer's ■clear and earnest eloquence obtained a de- cision of the universities that the marriage was void ab initio; but the matrons of .England were not to be conquered by spe- cious arguments that only lay like gossamer over the heartless passion of a monster. I Then Cranmer had a roving commission- first to the Pope, who deferred the hearing of the plea, but made him " Grand Penitentiary ^ of England," a sop to Cerberus ; and then to i Italy, France, the Princes of Germany, and finally to the Emperor. But the right and the truth remained with the women of England, with gentlemen whose hearts were touched with any spirit ofchivalry, and with old Luther, who declared that " separation after so many years of cohabitation would be an enormity greater than any marriage could have been, however improper that marriage might have been in the first instance." And once again Thomas Cranmer did a most foolish thing, for on the way he not only talked with the learned Osiander, but, unambitious Catholic priest that he was, made love to Osiander's niece, married her, and sent her across the sea to England to make a home for her and him and the children that were to be. Strange days those were : wife she was, and wife she might be privately to him, but in the cere- . . monies of the outer world she could be looked ' upon in Catholic England as only the con- cubine of Cranmer. In 1533, Henry secretly \ married Anne Boleyn ; Catharine's doom was } sealed by the Act for the restraint of Appeals, which severed England cleanly from the Pope ; and to crown all, Thomas Cranmer, a married priest, was placed on the throne of Canterbury, to the scandal of all Catholic Christendom. For be it remembered the English Church was still thoroughly Catholic. This great man, this " quivering mass of indecision," was simply the honest tool of Henry's iniquity ; he was raised to the lofti- est pinnacle of ecclesiastical power that the semblance of loftiest authority might be thrown over the divorce of Catharine. Acting on an im.perious mandate of Henry, he held an ecclesiastical court (May 1533), at which the Queen did not appear ; but the case went on, Cranmer piously hoping that " her absence might be made up for to the full by the Divine presence ; " and on the first day of the leafy month of June, Anne Boleyn was crowned with gorgeous splendour. There is no apology for Henry's crinie ; he knew that there was no valid reason why Catharine should not have become his wife. All this was wretched enough as motive of a Protestant revolution, and we shall now de- scend into the plain to find the constitutional steps and the righteousness of the religious change. A Memorable Parliament; More and Cromwell. In 1529 there opened "the most memo- " rable Parliament that ever sat. It was the assembly," says Canon Dixon, "which transformed old England — the England of • Chaucer and Lydgate — into modern England. \ ... A full generation at least of the fiercest hacking and hewing followed, ere the ancient system was spread upon the ground." The robes of Lord Chancellor never clothed a greater spirit than that of him who now succeeded Wolsey. This was Sir Thomas More, whose wisdom, wit, and gentleness have been household words for almost four hundred years. His " Utopia " was the first great book issued from the press by a living Englishman ; his name was the foremost among the thinkers of Europe. The friend of Erasmus, he had furnished the King with wisdom and wit for twenty years, and on many a starry night the merry More had walked the palace leads with the gay King Hal. But although a Humanist, he was yet a Catholic. His open nature, the very mirror of nobility, made him unfit to play the base game Henry had settled down to fight. The Cardinal was to him "a great scabbed wether;" and in his romance of "Utopia," the kingdom of Nowhere, to which the world is still only advancing, our English Socrates struck at the new despotism which rose from Wolsey's hands, by announcing that in his happy, far-off land a sovereign was " re- movable on suspicion of a design to enslave his people." He imprisoned heretics with mild severity ; and understanding that the pen was mightier than the prison and the sword, he met Barnes and Tyndale with their own weapons sharpened by his inimi- table ridicule ; but he was not the man who could now stand at the helm of the State. 54 THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. Alarmed at the pace of Parliament, he soon resigned his office, and retired with spotless honour into poverty and study in his Chelsea home, to jeer at heretics, and soon, too, to lay his venerable head upon the block — yes, even he, of whom the sorrowing Erasmus wrote when he heard of the terrible iniquity, that be was " a soul purer than snow." Let there be no mistake, however, as to the fact that this noblest and wittiest of Englishmen died for the Catholic Church, — for that Church where even the doctrine of Justification by Faith was not a heresy, but not for the " Roman Catholic Church " which arose with its narrowness and its Inquisition from the fiery debates of the Council of Trent and the triumph of the Society of Jesus (1545-55). And now Thomas Cromwell, the political Reformer, our English Robespierre, com- menced the Reign of Terror. This son of a Putney blacksmith, by his own confession a " ruffian " in youth, who had roamed abroad as an adventurer, and by turns had been soldier, cook, clerk, and money-lender, stepped to the front to fight the battle of Henry with the Church and heretics. He never halted in his course ; relentless as Fate itself, he struck down all opposition with the brawny arm of a political blacksmith and the delicate deftness of a State cook. Like his master, Wolsey, the student of Machiavelli sought to make Henry supreme in Church and State, mowing down all obstacles with an iron hand and an iron heart, fearless of Pope, fearless of every human being, possessed, in spite of his genial aspect, of that Titanic energy and will which might have served for the original of Massinger's mighty lines, — " I'll make a bridge arched with the bones of men, But I wiU reach my aims." And the knives of assassins glanced aside when aimed at his charmed life. Like Wolsey, he only fell before the frown of his despot idol. Then his head went to the block amid a harvest of rejoicing. Protestants and Papists shouted at the fall of Jaganatha. England, said Cromwell to the King, before whom he had at last been privileged to kneel, and who had heard of him as the fittest man in broad England to do his work, — " England is a monster with two heads. Let the King strike off one, the Pontiff, and stand alone supreme." Beginning of the Deluge. The very first act of this memorable Par- liament struck a blow at the Spiritual Courts by fixing reasonable charges for wills and funeral fees ; and one member of the Com- mons retorted to the argument from usage, that it was also the usage of thieves to rob on Shooter's Hill, and that the greedy priests took the dead man's only cow from his beggared orphans. This was followed by the Act against Plurality and Non-residence, " the first outburst of the noble indignation of the English laity against corruption, ra- pacity, and fraud," which aimed at the wealth and sloth of priests who, fattening on a dozen benefices, lounged about the Court, who held farms, owned tanneries, and dealt in wool, suffering their poor parishioners " to lack refreshing to the peril of their souls." For pretended insubordina- tion to the Crown (Statutes of Provisions and Prsemunire), the clergy were subjected to a penalty which drew a sum' of money nearly equal to two millions of our day ints the purse of the royal gambler ; and after a determined conflict they" were forced to acknowledge him — an ancient right of English sovereigng — as Supreme Head of the Church. The Commons charged the bishops with a Ions catalogue of sins ; among others with reckless persecution of heretics, who were increasing through " frantic seditious books contrary to the very true Catholic and Christian faith." The freedom of the clergy from civil trial was limited. In order to bully the Pope into consent to Henry's divorce, a secret Act was passed, abolishing the first fruits of all bene- fices paid to the Apostolic See ; and the Papal power was finally cut off by the Act for Re- straint of Appeals. The Church, through its bishops, was then called upon to give a formal renunciation of the Pope, binding itself never to speak of him as Pope or Universal Bishop, but simply as Bishop of Rome or Brother (1535). The first great wave of the deluge was the passing of the Act of Succession, in consequence of which the Franciscan monks and Carthusians were cmshed, some of their pious and peaceful members sent to martyr- dom, and two of the brightest luminaries of the time. Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More, despatched upon the scaffold. Tough old Fisher, by a strange irony just exalted to the dignity of a cardinal, refused to take the oath that Anne was Henry's lawful wife, although he was ready to acknowledge her children as lawful successors to the throne, and perished by the axe in the bright summer sunshine which beat on Tower Hill (June 1535) > liis long, lean body lay all day naked on the scaffold, and people thronged to London Bridge to see his head, which, " by a miracle," looked fresher every day. ^A^he^ it had been thrown into the river, its place was taken by the still nobler one of More, the gentle father who had given his children " kisses enough but stripes hardly ever." On the eve of the fatal blow he raised his head for an instant from the block to move his beard aside. With " a touch of the old sad irony" he was heard to mutter, "Pity that should be cut that has never committed treason." A shudder ran through Europe 55 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. at the deed, to which the condemnation of Socrates is the only parallel in history. The Monasteries Dissolved. When the Commons authorized the King (1534) to have the title of Supreme Head of the Church of England, they armed him with authority "to visit and reform errors, heresies, contempts, and offences," in consequence of ■which Cromwell, as his " Vicar-General," at once proceeded to the ruin of the monasteries, and the acquisition of ample funds for the wasteful pockets of his despot lord. The " visitation " carried out by his unscrupulous agents, of whom Layton was the liveliest, was of terrible enormities called forth from some members the cry of " Down with them ! * yet the Bill which conferred upon the King all religious houses witli a revenue less than ^200 a year, was only complied with by the Commons after Henry had threatened that he would have some of their heads if they did not pass it. Three hundred and seventy monasteries fell by this single blow ; 10,000 persons were thrown upon the world ; weep- ing nuns returned to the homes of their mothers, and honest labourers betook them- selves in hundreds to the trade of beggars, or even worse, of highwaymen. Although many were glad to escape from the bars of The Disgrace of Cardinal Wolsey. indeed a visitation in a double sense. The leaves of the great scholastic hair-splitter, Duns Scotus, were soon seen blowing about the quadrangles of Oxford, and his portly tomes, which had been supposed to reveal the deepest mysteries of the Faith, were put to the most ignoble andunnameable uses. The notes which were taken of the morals and moneys of the monks and nuns throughout the whole breadth of England, were laid in four months before Parliament, in the form of a " Black Book," which set forth by innumerable instances that the "hooded hypocrites"— monks and nuns alike — were as abominably vile as the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomor- rah. Although the reading of this Doomsd ay 56 the monastic cage, yet it was a sad spectacle that of monks and nuns, whose bounty had fed the poor, themselves reduced to beggary or the penury of a pitiable pension. How did Henry consume his immense spoils ? We can well imagine, when we know that the tuneful bells of a London steeple fell at a. single throw of the dice. Catholic Reaction, Catholic England shuddered, and the throne shook. At Louth, in Lincolnshire, the com- missioners of the "base-born" Cromwell were placed in the stocks ; a vast multitude rose under a shoemaker, nicknamed Captain Cobbler, one of whose associates was Dr. THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAJMJ. Mackerel, an abbot, who marched forth in A more formidable rebellion burst forth m full armour ; and one of the commissioners the northern counties, at the head of which was murdered. Henry issued his thunderous \ stood Robert Aske, a country gentleman. Burning a Protestakt Marytr. voice, and the "rude commons of a most brute and beastly shire" dwindled away in a fortnight. with a following of 30,000 men, over whom floated a banner on which was worked the Five Wounds of Christ. Perhaps Henry 57 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. would have been driven from the throne had the Pilgrimage of Grace found a more am- bitious leader ; but from the moment it com- jnenced negotiations with the petty force of Henry, and Aske and others retired to their homes with a fair promise and a feigned par- don, the Catholic reaction was doomed, only to be opened in the reign of Mary. Cromwell struck them as only he knew how. Many of the northern rebels, even honest Aske, with others from among the Lincoln rebels, were sent to the scaffold, the stake, and the worse starvation of the Newgate den. Abbots and nobles swung upon the gallows ; butchers and priests were mercilessly hanged ; Lady Bulmer was burned alive in Smithfield. It remained for one of the Pilgrims, Lord Darcy, who perished on Tower Hill, to fulminate a prophecy against the ruthless maker of these tragedies : " Thou, Cromwell, art the very special and chief causer of all this releellion and mischief. . . . but though thou shouldest procure all the noblemen's heads within the realm to be stricken off, yet I trust that there shall one head remain that shall strike off thy head." By-and-by the empty Treasury was refilled by the dissolution of the larger monasteries. Yet although the greater part went to the greedy courtiers and the gambling table, some was righteously spent on ships and forts and new cathedrals. John Frith the Martyr. So far as Government was concerned, the Reformation in England — as the German Protestants alleged — was purely political ; and when it served his purpose, Cromwell, whose own leanings were in favour of the new faith, encouraged the heretics or hanged them. Chief among those who fought with sharp tongue and sharp pen in the early days of the great struggle shine forth the names of Tyndale, who from beyond the sea shot his rankling arrows against the clergy ; Latimer, the bold and honest and fervid, but coarse and indiscreet, who for a short time held a bishopric, had joined the early Cam- bridge Gospellers in their war with Popish mummeries, and had seen his comrade Bilney sent to martyrdom ; and the youthful Frith, "the most genuine martyr of the English Reformation." A pupil of Gardiner at Cambridge, a favourite of Wolsey because of his brilliant promise, he had fallen at Oxford into the evil way of studying the forbidden Lutheran books. For this crime he and others lay for months in a nasty cellar where the salt fish of the college was stored, with little food but that for their sub- sistence. Three of them died in the impure den. On his release, Frith made his way to London, formed a dangerous intimacy with Tyndale, and after many strange adventures 58 in Flanders and England, was betrayed by one of his associates among the Christian Brethren, and thrown into the Tower. He had published a work on Purgatory, which taught (said More) " in a few leaves, shortly, all the poison that Wickliffe, CEcolampadius, Huskin, Tyndale, and Zwinglius have taught in all their books before." In prison he courted death by issuing a powerful attack on the Romish dogma of the Eucharist, which may claim to be "the beginning, in this age, of the terrific controversy on the nature of the Presence in the Sacrament, which was already convulsing the Continent, and was destined to fill all Europe with blood and flame for a century to come." This youth of twenty-five stood unmoved before the King, clergy, and laymen who met at Lambeth to convert or condemn him; he had all the moral stubbornness of his great antagonist. Sir Thomas More, and was un- touched by the gentle persuasions of Cranmer or the friendship of Gardiner. Yet he was no bigot : he did not even maintain that a belief in Purgatory and the Real Presence laid a man under the "jeopardy of damnation." He perished at the stake, showing the most unshaken patience while a London parson attacked him with vile ribaldry, and the wind, sweeping the flames from him, prolonged his sufferings ; and by his side there fell a hum- bler martyr, a simple London tailor, who had no better reply to the puzzling questions of those who condemned him, than that " he thoughtas Frith thought." This was in (1533). First Confessions : Engish Bible IN Church. In July 1535, Bishop Fox produced and read a tiny book in Convocation, which was listened to and thereafter signed by Cromwell as Vicar- General, Cranmer as Archbishop, and the clergy at large. This little treasure was the first-born of modern Uniformity. It was the "Ten Articles," our first English Confession of Faith ; no minute and tedious document like those of Germany and Scot- land, but a true literary bud of Henry's compromising policy, a rebuke and a com- fort at once to Catholics and heretics ; containing the Protestant Melancthon's definition of Justification, and while it re- tained a multitude of ceremonies, yet ex- plaining them as " things good and laudable, to put us in remembrance . . . but none of these . . . have power to remit sin, but only to stir and lift up our minds unto God, by whom only our sins are forgiven." No ser- mons, however, were to be preached for three months until the Articles were divulged, so that seditious persons might be prevented from expounding them "according to their fantastic appetite." At the close of this period of "secret silence," the clergy received THE REFORM A TION IN ENGLAND. orders from Cromwell to recite the Creed, the Paternoster, and the Ten Command- ments in their sermons, till the whole was learned by their young parishioners. Two years, later, while the plague was raging at the very gate of Lambeth Palace and sweep- ing its victims to the other world, the second English Confession (" Institution of a Chris- ' tiaii Man"), commonly known as the Bishops' i Book, was prepared ; and several years after ' (1543), the third Confession, or King's Book, appeared, the last of Henry's reign. A later step towards uniformity (1545) abolished the Latin and English litanies in use, substi- tuting an English translation of a Latin litany. In 1536, an order was issued commanding " every parson and proprietary of any parish church within the realm to place the entire Bible in the choir, both in Latin and English," the translation referred to being that of Miles Coverdale, the fellow-labourer of Tyndale and a former friend of Cromwell. " Matthew's Bible," a composite of Tyndale and Cover- dale, received Cromwell's license in the fol- lowing year, at the suggestion of the primate, a compliment which gave Cranmer more delight than if he had received " a thousand pound." But the year 1538 presented one of the bravest sights ever witnessed in England, certainly the most attractive of all this terrible period of struggle and terror and debate, when an injunction came down to all the clergy to provide within a certain period one book of the whole Bible, of the largest volume in England, and to set it up in some convenient place in the churches, where the parishioners could most easily reach it. The previous command had fallen as a dead letter. It was no idle offer and order now. Crowds of unlearned men and women thronged the churches hour after hour, listening with rapture to the accents of those who had sufficient learning to spell out the words of the Great Bible ; and aged persons, who had longed for the blessed day, set themselves with diligence to learn to read, content to do the tasks of children, so that they might learn in their own heart and conscience the very truth of God before they were called away from the troubles of earth to meet Him face to face. And good old Cranmer, with whom this was a life-long hope, bargained with the printers that they should charge no more than ten shillings, and should state " in the end of their Bibles the price thereof, to the end the King's liege people shall not henceforth be deceived of their price." Cranmer's Bible continued in use till 1568. Whip with Six Strings. Unfortunately the Protestants, thus given an inch, began to take an ell, and Henry's policy of moderation and compromise fell with terrible severity upon the triumph he had actually placed within their hands. "Fresh orders," says Mr. Green, "were given to fling all relics from their reliquaries, and to level every shrine with the ground. The bones of St. Thomas of Canterbury were torn from the stately shrine . . . and his name erased from the service booki as that of a traitor. The introduction of , rtae English Bible into churches gave a new opening for the zeal of the Protestants. In spite of Royal injunctions that it should be read decently and with- out comment, the young zealots of the party prided themselves on shouting it out to a circle of excited hearers during the service, and accompanied their reading with violent expositions. ... A fiery outburst of popular discussion compensated for the silence of the pulpits. The new Scriptures, in Henry's bitter words of complaint, were ' disputed rhymed, sung, and jangled, in every tavern and ale- house. ' . . . Above all, the Sacrament of the Mass, the centre of the Catholic system of faith and worship, and which still remained sacred to the bulk of Englishmen, was attacked with a scurrility and profaneness which passes belief. The doctrine of Transubstantiation, which was as yet recognised by law, was held up to scorn in ballads and mystery plays. In one church a Protestant lawyer raised a dog in his hands when the priest elevated the host. The most sacred words of the old worship, the words of consecration, 'Hoc est corpus,' were travestied into a nickname for jugglery, as ' Hocus-pocus.' " Then (1539) came the "Bloody Statute," or "Whip with Six Strings," as the Puritans termed it, in sorrowful allusion to the Six Articles of which it was composed, sentencing to the flames and forfeiture any persons who by word or writing defended the Protestant doctrines openly : in fact, it showed so decided a reaction towards an extreme Catholic posi- tion that Cranmer and five bishops strenuously opposed the passing of the Act. Hundreds of Protestants were thrown into prison ; Latimer was also imprisoned and deprived of his see ; the primate himself trembled with fear, and was only saved from the bitter assault of his enemies through the personal friendship of the King, in whose heart the attempt upon Cranmer "roused the best passion of which it was capable." In fact, however, it was only a political move, not meant to be put in force except as a measure of intimidation against the extreme party of reform ; it was indeed passed almost alongside of that which appropriated the revenues of the larger monasteries. This seeming outbreak of Cromwell's wrath against the Protestants was only temporary ; the prisons were soon emptied of their booty, the " Word was powerfully preached, and books of every kind safely exposed for sale." In this " killing time," two noble examples of heroic death stand forth in brilliant relief. The first was William Lambert, the friend of the martyred Frith and Tyndale. Returning from the Continent to his native country, he settled in London as a teacher in a humble way, and was latterly engaged in trade. 59 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Having indulged in the expression of his opinions in a manner that was considered dangerous to the peace of the pubhc, he was apprehended at the instigation of a Lutheran preacher. Refusing to save his hfe by sub- scribing to the dogma of Transubstantiation, as Cranmer and Latimer advised him, he appealed to the King; and, accordingly, a gorgeous display of royal luxury and theo- logical skill took place in the palace of Whitehall, the King (if we may credit Foxe, whose authority is most questionable in this matter) showing much higher capacity for bullying than for controversy. As night fell over the scene, and the torches were being lit, the wearied despot exclaimed, " Art thou not yet satisfied ? Wilt thou live or die 1 What sayest thou?" Lambert's submission to the royal clemency was promptly met with the emphatic sentence : "Then die you must ; for a patron of heretics I will never be." On the morning of his exe- cution, says the "Book of Martyrs," " Lam- bert being admonished that the hour of his death was at hand, he was greatly comforted and cheered ; and being brought out of the chamber into the hall, he saluted the gentle- men, and sat down to breakfast with them, showing no manner or sign of fear. When the breakfast was ended, he was carried straightway to the place of execu- tion. ... Of all who have been burned and offered up at Smith- field, there was yet none so cruelly and piteously handled as he ; yet in the midst of his torments, lifting up his mangled and burning hands, he cried to the people : ' None but Christ, none but Christ ! '" It is possible that Henry, in all his zeal to prove himself a splendid Catholic, was far from anxious to have a flood of determined Protestants streaming towards him for judg- ment. The infamous " Whip '' failed in its purpose "to abolish diversity of opinions;" and about a year before his death, the Supreme Head of the Church addressed the Parliament in the true spirit of moderation and compromise, urging them to greater charity, and to cease from the dangerous freeness with which they bandied about mutual accusations of heresy and Popery. Henry must have known how perilous to the peace of the State, which still rocked John Foxe the Martyrologist. uncertain on the troubled waters, was the execution of women, even though they were assharp-tongued as Anne Askew, — a clever lady who had separated from her husband because of her religious creed, and who boldly declared in Newgate that "her God will not be eaten with teeth." Not that Henry troubled himself about religion in itself, or took pleasure in the slaughter of his subjects— that was left for the reign of his eldest daughter; but he must have learned and thought of the sympathy that gathered round a woman who was tortured into lameness, and was borne in a chair to Smithfield ; and it may have crossed his fancy that the spectacle of the vast crowd v/hich pressed against the rails within which the fagots blazed around her, would live for ever as a scandal to his reign so long as one spark of chivalry lived in the hearts of Englishmen. Protector Somerset : His Weakness. Great but mild re- forms had been crad- ling in the calm mind of Cranmer, before he was summoned to the death-bed of the King whom he had served with humility for almost twenty years, who had regarded him with a veneration that almost verged on friendship, who had been influ- enced by the candour and truthfulness of his nature, and who had felt in the support of his honest primate "the touch of greatness which was all there was to give an ideal character to a sordid revolu- tion." The dying despot pressed the hand of the aged priest, gave him one last look with his glazed eye, and passed away from the mighty troubles of his heart and country. The sickle of progress was now to take a wider sweep. Henry's power, but not his policy, was seized by the maternal uncle of the young King, Edward VI., an impetuous Protestant, whose religious tendencies, how- ever, did not prevent him from enriching him- self with the spoils of the monasteries, from converting the famous Abbey of Glastonbury into a factory for worsted thread, from blow- ing up one cliurch in London, and with its stones erecting upon the site of another the magnificent palace still known to us as Somerset House. The bones of the dead who lay in St. Paul's Churchyard were used 60 THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. as manure, and Westminster Abbey, though fortunately saved, had also been doomed to destruction. The spirit of compromise which guided the policy of Henry, and of his daughter Elizabeth in after years, was now changed into the spirit of faction ; and the worship of the people, of whom by far the greater portion still clung with veneration to the ancient Church, was treated with a con- tempt which culminated in serious rebellion. Had the Government been clean-handed, — had it gained the confidence of the toiling masses by scrupulous integrity, the danger would have been lessened ; but the enclosure of lands for rearing sheep was a measure of dire injury to the labouring people who had found employment in ploughing and sowing ; while the dissolution of colleges and chantries (chapels, etc., where masses were said for the repose of souls), put forth on the pretence that they were the cause of " a great part of superstition and error in Christian religion," served only to glut the greedy appetites of courtiers with the name of God upon their lips. Nor was this all : the suppression of one see, and the seizure of half the revenue of every other, although supposed to be done for "godly uses," were nothing more than acts of spoliation perpetrated by a weak Government, so as to gain support from un- just and unscrupulous magnates. But we must not ignore that England had still some true and fearless preachers of righteousness, such as Ridley and Latimer, who told these robbers in high places that they should blush for very shame at their iniquity, and demanded that they should restore what they had stolen by trickery or violence. The Real Progress ; Common Prayer. A cordial friendship could not possibly exist between the noble primate and the plundering Somerset, much less between him and Somerset's successor, Northumber- land, who was simply a rabid hypocrite, and who, Cranmer himself declared, had com- passed his destruction. Amid the roar of discontent from the masses, and the sacri- legious pretensions of the nobles, real Chris- tian courage was doubly needed by men of candour, truth, and nobleness, like Latimer , and Cranmer ; but the movement was ^ steadily and faithfully maintained by these !| and other spiritual chiefs, who were soon to find their reward in the blaze of fagots i and the crown of martyrdom. In the main, however, the reforms of the Church were carried on in deference to the cautious gentleness of Cranmer and his friends : and the imprudent conduct of many preachers, the tumultuous manner in which images and pictures were removed and defaced, the abominable sacrilege of patrons in present- ing livings to their gamekeepers, and pocket- ing the stipends, — these scandals must not be charged on the souls of Cranmer and the old and tried Reformers, but on the blinking im- potence of the Government. Wooden tables were placed in the centre of the churches, as a substitute for the stately altars of stone to which the eyes of the people had been accus- tomed. But great reforms took place in spite of the heartlessness by which the leaders were environed, although they were far indeed from satisfying the demand of Calvin. Anabaptists, it is true, were still burned, even under Cranmer's notice, for instance, poor Joan Bocher, the Maid of Kent, who reviled the preacher at her death ; but the Whip of the Six Strings and other persecuting Acts were instantly repealed. Cranmer, after long doubt about the Real Presence, and much earnest talk with Ridley, mingled with the pastime of the chase, had at last renounced the Popish doctrine. A Great Bible was ordered to be provided within three months in every church, and also, as a compromise (a pleasant memory of Henry's time and Cranmer's early days of humble tutorship), the " Paraphrase of the Gospels " by one who had lived and died a Catholic, the strange but great Erasmus. Portions of the English Bible were to be read regularly at the services, and the "Book of Homilies" — a series of twelve sermons edited by Cran- mer — was to be used where there was no preacher. After a "thorough sifting," the celibacy of the clergy was abandoned, and the loving primate could at last bring back from Germany his dear wife and children ; the Book of Common Prayer, although it was assailed by Catholics, and on the other hand by Calvin and the English Calvinists, was welcomed with impatient joy by thou- sands ; and finally (1552) a second Prayer Book appeared, with further reforms, such as the excision of prayers for the dead. Our present liturgy, formally established in 1662, is substantially the same as that which issued from the pens of our old Reformers. The following year produced the Forty-two Articles, afterwards slightly altered into the Thirty-nine Articles, which need no intro- duction to any of our readers, for they still form the broad, moderate, compromising Confession of the English Church. The middle party of England, the lineal repre- sentatives of Henry's policy, now stood upon the modern platform of English orthodoxy. But we must read with sorrow in the canons of the Reformatio Legum Ecclesi- asticarum, happily prepared too late to receive the sanction of the boy-king, that even these men of moderation had not yet learned in their hearts St. Paul's last and greatest doctrine, charity, freedom of religious thought, but deemed it right to curse and punish all who held " heretical " opinions, 61 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and to send the opponents of the doctrine of the Trinity to the lambent mercy of the flames. A Prince's Death-bed. The young King lay dying of consumption. With one exception the whole Council had consented to the signature of Edward's will, when the old primate, who had sworn to the succession of Mary, according to the testa- ment of Henry, was summoned to the bed- side of his godson. " I cannot set my hand," said he to the intimidated judges and the crafty Northumberland, when they requested him to sign the document by which the young sovereign willed away the crown from his sisters, — " I cannot set my hand to this instrument without committing perjury, for I have sworn to the succession of the Lady Mary." He was summoned again into the royal presence. "The dying boy, pale and cada- verous, lay before him, — the royal boy, his godson, whom he had loved as his own child, — the son of his benefactor and friend, whom he had crowned and faithfully served, there he lay on his death-bed, too ill to argue, but resolute, determined, regarding this his last act as an act of duty to his God, his country, and himself" In Cranmer's eyes his godson was a saint ; and when almost the last breath of Henry's only boy was spent in urging upon him the justice of an act which his own conscience refused to look at in this light, what could he do in the presence of that death-like face, under the touch of that fervid prayer of an eye bright with the last flame of life, but in pitying love put forth his hand and sign the fatal deed ? Was the Reformation, then, firmly and finally fixed in England by this "device"? Alas ! no fault of Cranmer's, but the religious progress of these last years had only come commended by tyranny, spoliation, and bloodshed, by spiritual wickedness in high places ; and worse than that, soldiers from Germany and Italy had been hired to stamp out the discontent of Englishmen. Had Edward lived, and succeeded in maintaining his seat upon the throne of England, the Calvinism of Oliver Cromwell would have been thrust on England a century before the great Revolution by his determined will. It was not to be so. Our Reformation was destined to be as English as ourselves, — a plain and steady growth out of the free and freedom-giving hearts of England. How could the work of Edward's reign be other than abortive, since Cecil himself declared that " the greater part of the people is not in favour of defending this cause, but of aiding its adversaries, the greater part of the nobles who absent themselves from Court, all the bishops save three or four, almost all the judges and lawyers, almost all the justices of the peace, the priests who can move their flocks any way, for the whole of the commonalty is in such a state of irritation that it will easily follow any stir towards change " .'' MARY; CATHOLIC REACTION. A once kindly woman ascended the throne with an embittered heart ; a narrow spirit, quite incompetent to grasp the struggle of her age. Her condemnation is written in that last sentence of the great Elizabethan statesman, in the frantic cheers and mirth which welcomed her, and in the terrible con- tempt with which the Te Deicin was sung upon her death. There is no excuse for her but that she was a persecuted woman ; and if that be any apology, John Knox's " Monstrous Blast" is amply justified ; her reign was simply a blunder and a scandal, and no Englishman can read its annals without a thrill of horror and a blush of shame. It is unnecessary that we should track out one by one the steps which hurried England backward, not only from the religious position she had aspired to in the reign of young " Josiah," but beyond the memorable Parlia- ment of 1529, into the arms of the Papacy, and into the profession of Roman Catholic sectarianism. Brutality marked from first to last the reign of the " heaven-sent dove," and its spirit is completely defined by the logic with which the vulgar and im- moral prolocutor. Dr. Weston, wound up the discussion of Convocation in October 1553, on that awful topic, Transubstantiation : " Ye are well enough already ; ye have the word, and ive the sword." This seems a very strange expression, when we compare it with the hope entertained by Cranmer and other Reformers, that although some of the more recent measures of progress should be annulled, yet the independence of the English Church would be maintained, and the spread of gospel truth be still possible to earnest and honest men ; and more especially when we view it in the light of a speech delivered by the Queen a few weeks after her accession, declaring that " she meaned graciously not to compel or strain other men's consciences, otherwise than God should, as she trusted, put in their hearts a persuasion of the truth, through the opening of His Word unto them." This promise of liberty soon showed itself in the terror of a savage despotism. The only points which Mary did not succeed in winning from the votes of Parliament were the abolition of her title of Supreme Head of the Church, and the restoration of the lands and houses of which the monasteries had been robbed ; and these points were held to by the determination of the nobles that, let religion 62 THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. swing from side to side with every storm that blew, they at least would never part, for the best or worst doctrine in Christendom, with their riches and estates. The Bible and Book of Common Prayer were abolished; the Statute of Heretics was revived; Cardinal Pole returned to England in a Catholic triumph, and both Houses of Parliament bent upon the knee before him and received the absolution of the Pope ; a Bill for the reconciliation of England to the Holy See swept away every reform of Cranmer under her father's and her brother's reign ; married priests were placed in the dilemma of re- nouncing their wives or their livings ; and now, instead of the milder persecution of More and Cranmer in the reign of Henry, which only asked for silence, and did not seek for victims, the very spirit of the Spanish Inquisition found a home in this freedom- loving England. Persecution ceased to be political, and became the offspring of reli- gious fanaticism. When Thomas Cranmer, the old friend of King Henry, the author of all the moderate reforms of the last twenty years, the noblest and most truthful of priests, the venerable representative of all that was best or safest in the Church of England, the man whose figure was known in every country parish as that which had its place with those of Cromwell and the mighty King on the frontispiece of the English Bible, — when he fell at the stake in Oxford, the hearts of thousands were embittered by the iniquity, and on every hand humble men and women, and even children, were eager to win the crown of martyrdom. When the trial of their faith came, the Protestants were divided into five classes : those like Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, who felt it their duty to God and to the nation to stand on English ground, and meekly suffer the consequences of the work they had chiefly promoted ; the exiles ; the political Reformers, such as Cecil, who could " bide their time ; " the zealots, who rushed furiously upon the officers who carried out the commands of their superiors, and often hindered the Christian cause by ribaldry and violence ; lastly, those avaricious and un- scrupulous statesmen, — the Arundels, the Russells,the Pembrokes, — who had no certain creed but their own interest. It is to these last, and to the "bloody Mary," more than to the learned Gardiner and the vulgar Bonner, that we must charge the abominable wrongs and murders of this the blackest period of English history. Sir John Cheke. One of the saddest stories is that of the learned tutor of Queen Elizabeth, the brother- in-law of the more renowned Cecil. Having obtained his release by the sacrifice of all his landed property, he received permission 63 to travel for a few years. He was tempted to Rome because of its classical associations,, but far from its religious atmosphere exerting any influence upon his faith, he wrote tc^ Cecil, on his way homeward, to " take heed how he did in the least warp or strain his conscience by any compliance for his worldly security." Fine advice in the fair weather of exile ! Soon after penning this epistle, he was seized by King Philip's orders, between Brussels and Antwerp, when on his way to England, bound hand and foot, thrown into a cart, conveyed across the Channel in a sail- ing vessel, and sent to the Tower. He had either to comply or burn. It was not suffi- cient that the timid man of learning should subscribe his assent to the doctrine of the Real Presence and the whole list of Romish articles, but with that refined spirit of cruelty which demanded not only profession but evidence of siticerity, he was compelled to pronounce two recantations, one before the Queen, and one before the Cardinal. Even after he had undergone several acts of penance, he was not yet released ; and when this mercy was granted, it was only to set him on the bench with Bonner to assist at the trial of the martyrs. His heart was broken, and in a few months he died in the hospitable home of an old friend, " a prey to shame, remorse, and melancholy." Rogers, Ridley, Latimer, Etc. It is scarcely necessary, even for the youngest, that we should recite the many and monotonous stories of the Marian martyrs, for are they not a.l written in that famous book by John Foxe, himself an exile,, entitled " The Book of Martyrs"? There we read how good John Rogers, known as the proto-martyr, was lodged in Newgate among thieves, how on the way to Smithfield he met his wife and eleven children,—" one sucking on her breast," — and yet died constantly and cheerfully, unmoved by this " sorrowful sight of his own flesh and blood ; " how Miles Coverdale, to whom England owed a trans- lation of the Bible, was begged from the jaws of the lions by the King of Denmark ; how good Rowland Taylor knelt in the dark morn- ing with his wife and children on the unlit streets of London, walked to the quiet Suffolk parish where he had often preached with faith and fervour, saying at the stake, " I am even at home," and gently replying to a wretch who threw a faggot at his face, " O friend, I have harm enough, what needed that ? " One of the first among the men who fell when the persecution began in deadly earnest in 1555, was the Puritanic bishop, John Hooper, taunted by two opponents on the bishops' bench as "hypocrite" and "beast." The latter he was not, although a married priest, like the sage Cranmer, for he was EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. " spare of diet, sparer of words, and sparest of time/' and his life was " so pure and good that no kind of slander could fasten any fault upon him." He was condemned to execution for having a wife and rejecting the Romish doctrine of the Real Presence. At Oxford there perished, within sight of Cranmer, who rushed to the housetop to catch a glimpse of his beloved fellow-labourers, the two bishops, meek Ridley and vehement Latimer. " Be of good comfort, Master Ridley," cried Latimer, as the flames scorched his aged frame ; " play the man ; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out." The light was not extinguished. From bishops the Inquisition descended to humbler victims, — to men like the old lame painter, Hugh Laverock, of Barking, who when he was chained, cast away his crutch, exclaiming to the blind martyr beside him, " My Lord of London is our good physician ; he will heal «s both shortly ; " to women like those of Guernsey, one of whom gave birth to an infant at the stake, which was tossed into the flames, and like brave Mrs. Cicely Ormes, of Norwich, who kissed the stake with the words, ^' Welcome the sweet Cross of Christ," and perished waving her arms till the sinews were stiffened with the flames. Cambridge and Canterbury, Lewes and Lichfield, Rochester and Stratford-le-Bow, and many other spots, have their hallowed ' memories of the heroic men, women, and children who gladly laid their lives down at the stake for what they held to be the truth of God ; but there is no place more sadly dear in England than the market-square of Smithfield, London. We forget the horse- fair and the noisy mirth and "ruffian" duels of the days of Shakespeare, and think only of the grim tragedies enacted opposite the en- trance to the church of St. Bartholomew, where some strong oak posts and martyrs' bones were discovered a little over thirty years ago. It was there that Bayfield and Baynham fell ; that the noble Frith smiled at the brutal parson who declared he was no more worth praying for than a dog ; that John Lambert raised his mangled hands and shouted to the people "None but Christ!" In that often mirthful mart, Barnes, Rogers, the Scottish exile Rough — group after group of plain, "godly, and innocent" men and women from the fields of Islington and other places — were sacrificed like cattle to the insane fanaticism of the " Bloody Mary" and the cowardly submission of Gardiner, Bonner, and other weak-kneed priests. It is true the Protestants of London hanged a cat in Cheapside "apparelled like a priest to say mass," that they decapitated the image of A Becket in that same thoroughfare, and that Marian exiles like Bale sent provoking slanders from their Continental bowers of peace ; but no plea on earth will suffice to wipe away the horror of Mary's hand, or lessen our indignation against her monstrous instruments — such as that Dr. Stover, who boasted in the first parliament of Good Queen Bess : " I wish that I had done more than I did .... I threw a faggot in the face of an earwig at Uxbridge as he was singing a psalm, and set a bushel of thorns under his feet." The Recovery. This wholesale butchery carried in itself the death of the policy of Mary. The fierceness of its barbarism begot universal hate ; the exiles of Geneva and Frankfort boldly re- turned to defy the flames ; and when Mary died, it was no wonder that the passion of the people kicked priests in the kennels of Lon- don, and made her death a subject of triumph. In the Maiden Queen, who had not herself escaped from the heart-searching tyranny of Mary, the people found a sovereign abso- lutely untouched by the religious passion of Edward and her sister, eager in the truly English spirit of her father to raise the love of country above the persecuting zeal of creeds. She restored the royal supremacy, and the hateful Statutes of Heresy were abolished. The first Parliament of Elizabeth (1559) may be regarded as having really closed the door for ever against the hope of establishing the supremacy of Rome on Eng- lish soil, and this result was greatly due to the moderation of its enactments and the temperate prudence with which the Act of Uniformity was carried out. Gradually the work of reconciliation pro- gressed until the peace and unity of Eng- land was firmly established ; not, indeed, without much serious rebellion among the Catholics, not without a bold attack from Rome by the Bull of Deposition, not without a vigorous repression of the Jesuit priests who crossed from the Continent and laboured hard and boldly to create a Catholic re- action. But before this last attempt the work of the Reformation was practically accompHshed. The Bible had been again set free ; and in the reign of Good Queen Bess, in the year of our Lord 1563, the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England were established by Convocation. M. M. 64 ' Bonnie Prince Charlie." OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE: THE STORY OF CHARLES EDWARD, THE YOUNG PRETENDER. The Stuarts at St. Germains and in Italy — The "Old Pretender" in Italy— His Matrimonial Difficulties — "My Dear Clementina" — The so-called Prince of Wales and Duke of York— Their Love of Music — Prince Charles Edward at the Siege of Gaeta — French Encouragement to an Expedition — Collection of a Force at Dunkirk — The Condition of the Scottish Highlands — Paying for Peace — The Clan Act — Jacohite Agents — Departure of the Prince for France, and Narrow Escape— In Hiding at Gravelines — The Expedition to Scotland — Reception by the Highlanders— Personal Influence — "Bonnie Prince Charlie" — At Athol, Linlithgow, and Holyrood — The Battle of Prestonpans Over the Border — To Derby and Back Again — Fatal CuUoden — The " Butcher Cumberland" — A Fugitive — Flora Macdon — Escape to France — Incognito Visits to England — Death at Florence. Macdonald The Exiled Stuarts. E have heard of a year they call the Forty-five, young gentleman, when the Southron heads made their last acquaintance with Scottish clay- mores," said Pate Maxwell, better known as Pate-in-Peril, Laird of Summertrees,to young Alan Fairford, in Scott's " Redgauntlet." It was, indeed, a memorable year, — a great chapter in that record of the Stuart race in 65 which History and Romance appear to be twin sisters. Since the memorable flight of James II. in December 1688, no Stuart had, in England,, been permitted to wear the " round and top of sovereignty." James made a desperate effort to retrieve his fortunes in Ireland, was de- feated at the battle of the Boyne, and after- wards, by gracious permission of Louis XIV. of France, the Grand Monarque, held a little court of his own at St. Germains, where he EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. died on Sept. i6th, 1701. When he quitted England, his son, James Francis Edward was about six months old. History and romance know that son as the Chevalier de St. George and as the Old Pretender, and his son, James Philip Louis Casimir Thomas Silvester Maria 'Charles Edward, as Prince Charles Edward (he laid aside the heavy load of the six pre- ceding names), the Young Pretender, "Bonnie Prince Charlie." There had been desperate ifighting on behalf of the Old Pretender in Scotland in 171 5, and an abortive attempt to excite an insurrection in that country by the Duke of Ormond in 1719 ; and afterwards there were intrigues and private missions, spies and multitudinous correspondence, double traitors working for each side, Hano- verian and Jacobite, swearing fidelity to each and deceiving both. Men of brilhant talents and high position like BolingbrokeandAtter- bury, who had sworn allegiance to the new dynasty, reconciled it with their conscience to correspond with the Stuart exiles, and afterwards to take refuge at their court. The Old Pretender. Believing in his divine right to the crown of Britain, the son of James W. waited with patience for the time to come when the English should be weary of the Hanoverians, and ready to welcome the Stuart as their rightful king. He knev/ that his uncle Charles had been recalled after long exile, that there had been a great reaction in the public mind then, and he hoped, indeed con- fidently expected, that a second restoration was fore-ordained. He possessed many of the Stuart characteristics, but not of the worst sort. Had he been king de facto, as he believed himself to be dejicre^ he might probably have more nearly resembled his grandfather Charles I., than his own father or his profligatebutgenial-mannereduncle the second Charles. He lived fora time at Urbino, and afterwards at Rome, in the Palazzo Muti (now the Palazzo Savorelli), in the Piazza di Sant' Apostoli, keeping up a little court, and assuming the style of James 111., King of Great Britain and Ireland. President de Brosses (the French historian and antiquary), writing in 1740, in Eltalie il y a Cent Ans, describes James as tall and thin, with quite the air of the Stuart family, and very like his flllegitimate elder brother, James Fitzjames, Duke of Berwick, whose mother was Arabella Churchill, sister of the great Duke of Marl- borough. One point of difference between (the brothers is rather unkindly noticed by De Brosses — they were much alike, " except (that the Marshal's countenance was sad and severe, while that of the Pretender was sad and silly." This may be explained by the consciousness that he was playing a part, and found it difficult to reconcile his actual surroundings with the assumption of regal state. He was, we are told, graceful and noble, with dignified manners, very devout, and of moderate talents ; " when he sits down to dinner, his two sons, before taking their places, go and kneel before him and ask his blessing. To them he usually speaks in English ; to others, in Italian or French." The household in the Palazzo Muti was dull and decorous, but unhappy. James, with Stuart weakness andobstinacy,hadbeen ruled by favourites. At first the Earl of Mar, who had led the expedition of 171 5, was pre- dominant ; but the English Ministers found means to gain him over, and he deserted his master. Then came Colonel John Hay, elevated by James to the phantom dignities of Earl of Inverness and Seci-etary of State, and his wife and her brother, James Murray. It has been insinuated (with perhaps but little reason) that the influence of the Countess of Inverness was based on more than political considerations ; and it is certain that the ascendency of this family was so objectionable to James's wife, Maria Cle- mentina, a daughter of the family of Sobieski, that in 1725, seven years after their marriage, she left her husband and retired to the Con- vent of St. Cecilia at Rome. There are state- ments in existence as to the causes of the separation, according to which the wife accused her husband of infidelity, and he retorted by charging her with ill-temper. The marriage had been one of inclination, and there is a letter extant, written shortly after Clementina (the first name was disused) had left him, in which there is a curious outburst of natural affection, disturbing the formal style which James had thought it his duty con- sistently with regal dignity to assume. At the commencement he addresses his wife as " Madam," and he proceeds to say that he is " aware from experience that you are so prejudiced against whatever originates with me as not to listen tome patiently." He reminds her that " we have often experi- enced anxieties and difficulties, but these I should always have endured with greater equa- nimity had I not observed them to be oc- casioned less by the vivacity of your disposition than by your overreadiness to listen to petty complaints and insinuations, and to fancy yourself hurt in the persons of those who have retailed them ; and you cannot but recollect with what patience I have for two years submitted to your sullen humours, and h-ow, when you scarcely would speak to me or look at me, I had recourse only to silence.'' He assures her that she had at all times possessed his undivided affection, and went on in a formal strain, with abundant " Madams," to complain of her conduct in endeavour- ing to intimidate him to dismiss an " able, faithful, and laborious minister ;" but in the 66 OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE. 2ast paragraph his dignity breaks down, he addresses her as " my dear Clementina," and conjures her not to " resist the last efforts of my tenderness, which only awaits your return to rekindle, never again to relax or cease." The Young Princes at Rome. The titular Queen seems to have preferred the "Madam" to the more affectionate style of address, and persisted in her determina- tion to remain in the convent ; and for about forty years (he died in 1766), James led a solitary and saddened life. There were two children of this ill-assorted union, — Charles Edward, styled Prince of Wales by his father and his father's friends, born December 31st, 1720; and Henry Benedict, born March 5th, 1725 (shortly before the separation of his parents), who became the Cardinal York of later history, and the last survivor of the direct line of the royal house of Stuart. Of these two young men De Brosses says, in the work already quoted, " The elder is called the Prince of Wales, the younger the Duke of York. Both have a family look. They are amiable and graceful in their manners, both showing but a moderate un- derstanding, and less cultivated than princes should have been at their age. They are both passionately fond of music, and understand it well ; the eldest plays the violoncello with much skill, the youngest sings Italian airs in very good taste. Once a week they give an excellent concert, which is the best music in Rome. I hear from those who know them both thoroughly, that the eldest is much beloved by his friends ; that he has a kind heart and a high courage ; that he feels warmly for his family and misfortunes, and that if some day he does not retrieve them, it will not be for want of intrepidity. They tell me that, having been taken, when quite a stripling, to the siege of Gaeta by the Spaniards, one day during the voyage his hat blew off into the sea. The people round him wished to recover it ; but ' No ! ' cried he, ' do not take that trouble ; I will some day go the same way my hat has gone, if things remain as they are.'" He was at that time but fourteen years of age, — old enough to be well acquainted with the his- tory and expectations of his family, and to desire above all things to be the means of restoring its fortunes. As the Jesuit Giulio Cordara— a priest of noble birth and high attainments, who wrote a narrative of the expedition of 1745 — informs us, the young Prince " was reared from his infancy never to forego the desire or hope of recovering the crown, and even in early youth it was his aim to discipline to every kingly art those talents and regal endowments with which nature had furnished him." As a 67 boy he studied the theory of the military art, took deliglit in athletic and other manly exercises, as a preparation for a military hfe, and " urgently besought his father not to keep him lounging at home, but to send him where he could learn the art of war, as it surely was the duty of one born and bred in the expectancy of a crown to be a soldier ere he became a king, since that was the only path that could lead him to substantial sovereignty." According to some accounts he seems to have been troubled with very little education, except such as would fit him for a military career. Sir Thomas Sheridan, an Irish Roman Catholic, usually styled the Chevalier Sheridan, was nominally his tutor ; but either he was very neglectful or Charles Edward was a very careless pupil, so far, at least, as the English language was con- cerned ; for the Young Pretender astonished his Scottish friends of later times by spelling " sword " without the " w," and writing his father's Christian name " Gems." It is only fair, however, to say that Cordara, probably a very partial witness, credits him with a good knowledge of the Italian, Latin, English, and French languages, and a considei'able acquaintance with ancient and modern his- tory. His military taste was gratified by the permission to accompany to the siege of Gaeta iiis uncle, the Duke of Berwick, com- mander of the Spanish army, one of the most famous generals of the age, and in that respect worthy of his relationship to his mother's brother, the great Marlborough. The impetuous youth was delighted by the opportunity of witnessing the operations of actual war. " He flew to the lines," says Cordara, " and there so entirely devoted himself to the duties of a soldier, that, though but a novice in his fifteenth year, he set an example to the most steady ofScers and experienced veterans. Amid heat and dust, he galloped about the camp', reconnoitred the trenches, mines, and outworks, or, rush- ing where the shot fell thickest, was the foremost with voice and example to repel the enemy's saUies. Although all this somewhat disconcerted the Duke, to whom the youth's safety had been especially committed, and who blamed him for so rashly exposing him- self, he could not refrain from admiring such gallantry, and holding it up as an example to others." The Young Pretender. As the young Prince approached the years of manhood his character developed, and his martial tastes ripened. A great stake was to be played, no less than a crown and he knew that the task of winning it, if it were to be won, must devolve on him. His father, cold, pedantic, and unadventurous, and over fifty years of age, was little likely to EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. expose his own person to the chances of war, and Charles felt instinctively that the enthusiasm of Scotland and the less excita- ble partisanship of England, must be roused by an individual appeal. " Come on," not "go on," were the words to reach the hearts of the people of both countries. The time, too, was becoming propitious for an adventure. France and England were at war. Old Cardinal Fleury, the French minister, who had long endeavoured to maintain peace, died, in the ninetieth year of his age, in January 1743, and his successors were Count d'Argenson and Cardinal Tencin, both disposed to active measures. Tencin owed his Cardinal's hat to the influence of the Stuarts, and was devoted to their cause. George II. was pledged to support the Queen of Hungary, and was preparing to lead in person an allied army of English, Hanoverian, and Hessian troops across the Rhine against France. The French minis- ters conceived that an active revival of the Stuart claims would embarrass England, and that if a descent were made on Scotland, or if any part of the English coast were threatened, a diversion might be effected which would materially affect the position of affairs on the Continent ; for King George would be little likely to withdraw an army from England when his crown was threatened. Preparations for an Expedition. Early in 1743, Tencin privately communi- cated with James Stuart at Rome, urging that Prince Charles should set out at once for France, so as to be ready to take the command of the intended expedition when it should be prepared ; but James decided that his son's journey should be deferred till the preparations were completed, as otherwise the British Government would be put upon its guard, and. preparations be made for defence. The battle of Dettingen, fought on the i6th of June, 1743, in which George II. defeated the French under Marshal Nouailles and the Duke de Gramont, — a victory now best remembered as the occasion of Handel's magnificent Dettingen Te Deum, — hastened the preparations for aiding the Stuarts. A force of 15,000 veteran troops was assembled at Dunkirk, intended to be placed under the command of Marshal Saxe, an illegitimate son of the late Frederick Augustus, King of Poland, by the Countess Von Konigsmark, and at that time the most skilful and successful general in the French service. Transport ships were collected in the Channel, and eighteen sail of the line were got ready at Rochefort and Brest to act as convoys. On the 23rd of December the Old Pretender at Rome received information that the expedition was in readiness, and signed a proclamation to the British people, to be issued immediately on the landing of the troops on the British shore, and a com- mission appointing his son Prince Regent, with full power, in the absence of James himself. The State of the Highlands. It may be well, at this point of the narra- • tive, to glance at the position of affairs in this country, the state of which may be supposed to have encouraged the Jacobites to make another attempt to restore the Stuarts. Their expectations of success were mainly based on the loyalty to the old ideas of the Lowland gentry and Highland chiefs of Scotland. In 17 1 5 there had been no lack of followers of the Stuart standard, or of brave gentlemen ready to risk property and life for the old cause. But the Highlanders were themselves divided. The chiefs had their private jealousies and quarrels, which not unfre- quently were considered of greater importance than any national object. When one Mac was affronted by another Mac, or fancied he was thought more or less of, the private quarrel must be adjusted to the satisfaction of the chiefs, dhuniwassels, and all the men of the rival clans, even if the " king over the water " had to wait awhile. In England the Stuarts had many friends open and concealed. The Hanoverian kings had certainly not made themselves attractive or popular. The first would not take the trouble to learn to speak the English language, was coarse and brutal in his manner, and took little trouble to conceal his dislike for the people he had been called on to rule ; but he was a consti- tutional king, and fairly observed his engage- ments, however surly he might be. The second George was a strutting, fussy, plucky little man, a stout soldier at Dettingen, and ruled by his wife, who did not ask too many questions about Lady Yarmouth or Lady Suffolk, and by Sir Robert Walpole and other ministers. The shrewd and witty Earl of Chesterfield is credited by Horace Walpole with the suggestion, " If we have a mind effectually to prevent the Pretender from ever obtaining this crown, we should make him Elector of Hanover, for the people of England will never fetch another king from thence." The great majority of the English, however, were fairly satisfied with things as they were, and not disposed to risk a civil war for the sake of placing, probably, another James II. on the throne. There were old people who could well remember the great western assize and the terror inspired by Jeffreys, the faith- lessness of the last Stuart king, and the shouts which greeted the arrival of William of Orange. There was a stronger disposition to support King Log in possession than King Stork in exile with bad family antece- 6S OUT IN TH'E FORTY-FIVE. dents. The Hanoverians were little liked but the Stuarts less. Still less disposed were the mercantile and industrious classes to see a rabble of half- naked barbarians (for such the Highlanders were popularly supposed to be) acting as the escort of the Pretender to the throne-room at St. James's. The Lowland Scotch were not liked in England, and the country beyond the Forth was to most Englishmen an unknown land. A writer in an early number of the Quarterly Review, easily identified as Walter Scott, tells us that, " In England the know- ledge of the very existence of the Highlanders was, prior to 1745, faint and forgotten, and not even the recollections of the civil wars which they had undertaken in the years 1689, 1715, government by appeals to many motives of action ; and some of the chiefs of inferior power had been dextrously dealt with, as Breadalbane and Stair, and afterwards Wal- pole, knew how to deal with simple natures whom it was advisable to keep quiet. Some of the chiefs had been partially educated in France, had become acquainted with the ways of the world, and a liking for political intrigue was as natural to them as physical courage. The exiled Stuarts could promise titles and high offices to their adherents, and those promises attracted some, but English ministers could do more than promise, and were ready with hard cash. WiUiam HI. entrusted the Earl of Breadalbane with ^20,000 to be dis- tributed among the Highland chiefs. It was Preston Tower, near the Field of Prestonpans. and 17 19, had made much impression on the British public. Tlie more intelligent, when they thought of them by any chance, con- sidered them as complete barbarians ; and the mass of the people cared no more about them than the merchants of New York about the Indians who dwelt beyond the Alleghany Mountains." Statesmen and officials, of course, knew more about the real condition of the High- land men, their warlike propensities, their organization, their clan quarrels, their in- domitable courage, their loyalty to old traditions, and at the same time their weak- ness. The chiefs were proud, but many of them were poor. The very great men, the dukes and earls of Highland race, had been mostly attracted to the support of the existing not an easy task to satisfy all. Some asked for more ; and, says Scott in the QHarterly3x\\z\Q. already quoted, " It has always been supposed that the atrocity well-known by the name of the massacre of Glencoe, was devised and executed to gratify at once an ancient quarrel, to silence an intractable chief who had been clamorous about the division of the peace-offering, and to serve as a measure of intimidation to all others." Breadalbane's plan was to take the money, do with it what he would, and answer no questions. The English minister asked him to account for the expenditure, and he curtly answered, " My lord, the money is spent, the Highlands are quiet, and this is the only way of accounting between friends." So well had the work of pacification, by 69 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY means chiefly of a judicious distribution of hard cash, been performed, that when, in 17 14, the Elector of Hanover was proclaimed King of Great Britain as George I., more than a hundred " chief heritors and heads of clans " in the Highlands prepared, after much deliberation, an address to the King, which, however, by some court intrigue was prevented from being delivered to him ; and that fact so irritated many of the chiefs who had signed the document, that a year after- wards they took part in the rising of 17 15. This address, we are assured, expressed "the joy of our hearts at Your Majesty's happy accession to the Crown of Great Britain. . . . Your Majesty's princely virtues and the happy prospect we have in your royal family of an uninterrupted succession of kings to sway the British sceptre, must extinguish those divisions and contests which in former times too much prevailed, and unite all who have the happiness to live under your Majestyinto a firm olaedience and loyalty. . . . Pardon us, great Sir, to implore your royal protection against any who labour to mis- represent us, and who rather use their endea- vours to create misunderstandings than to engage the hearts of subjects to that loyalty and cheerful obedience which we owe and are happy to testify towards Your Majesty, . . Our mountains, though undervalued by some, ai-e nevertheless acknowledged to have at all times been fruitful in providing hardy and gallant men, and such, we hope, shall never be wanting amongst us, who shall be ready to undergo all dangers in defence of Your Majesty and your royal posterity's only right to the crown of Great Britain." These were fair words ; but within twelve months the Highlands were in a blaze of rebellion. The Highland Clans. Then other means were tried, and the loyalty of clansmen to their chiefs tampered with. Devotion to the head of the clan, the hereditary chief, was almost a sacred senti- ment. The great clans, or septs, mostly traced their origin to some renowned warrior, whose character and achievements were in the course of ages magnified to stupendous proportions by an enthusiastic and imaginative people, having Httle intercourse with the outer world. The names of these almost mythical heroes, whose praises were chanted by bards, their exploits growing in picturesqueness and mag- nitude with the record of every generation, were adopted with additions by the chiefs of the clans ; the Highland title of the Argyle family, for instance, the heads of the Camp- bells, being MacCallum More, "the son of the great Colin." The chief of a clan was, in virtue of his regular descent, looked upon as a father with veneration and in a spirit of almost blind obedience. "The clansman, who scrupled to save his chief's life at the expense of his own was regarded as a coward who fled from his father's side in the hour of peril. A word would call the Highlandman from his cabin and his little patch of land on the hill-side, or the tacksman (tenant farmer) from his holding, to the side of his chief, and neither danger nor death could daunt him. In a few hours a chief, or even petty chieftain, the head of a branch of the main sept, if excited by a political sentiment, or offended because some other " Highland gentleman" had cocked his bonnet a little higher, could assemble a band of bare-legged warriors who feared nothing and hesitated at nothing. Scott scarcely exaggerated when he made a host of armed men spring from the ground in reply to the whistle of RoderickDhu. This spirit of ready obedience, this power of rapidly collecting bands of fierce marauders, constituted the real danger of the Highlands to the English authority. Half- savage hordes of desperate men would appear no one exactly knew whence, and if defeated would scatter no one knew whither, and pursuit was hopeless. The Clan Act of 171 5 endeavoured to break this bond of feudal union by providing that whenever a vassal took part in a rebellion his property was to devolve on his liege lord, provided the liege lord himself remained quiet; and, on the other hand, that a loyal vassal was to receive the freehold of his lands from a rebellious lord. When, in 1744, the English Government had an inkling of the prepara- tions going on abroad, the Highlanders were ordered to deliver up their arms to General Wade, the English commander in Scotland. The disaffected clans came forward with a numberof rusty firelocks and other unservice- able weapons, having carefully hidden those likely to be useful, and the well-aftected gave up all, so that when the war broke out in 1745 the latter were defenceless and the former well armed. Another Act of Parlia- ment relieved vassals from personal atten- dance on their chief when summoned for purposes of sport, battle, or garrisoning their houses ; this duty being substituted by the payment of a money rent. Few of the chiefs objected to receive the rent ; but when they wanted the men summoned them as before; and tlie men " did come when they did call them," so firmly fixed in their minds was the traditionary duty of obedience. A more practical measure on the part of the English authorities was the construction, with great labour and expense, of military roads over the Grampians and through the Highlands, known as Wade's roads. Some of the chiefs were as treacherous as they were influential. One whose name is familiar to all readers of the history of the 70 OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE. times, Simon, Lord Lovat, is perhaps an extreme specimen of the class. Eai'ly in hfe he was accused not only of high treason, but of a terrible outrage perpetrated on an elderly woman, daughter of the Duke of Athol, and mother of a young lady whose hand Lovat had sought in marriage. He absconded ; and after skulking for some time in the hiding-places of the Highlands, contrived to reach St. Germains. Thence he was sent to England to prepare the Jacobites for a rising ; but he played false, and was conse- quently taken into favour by the English government, on whose behalf he headed his clan in the outbreak of 171 5, and afterwards was entrusted with the command of one division of the force raised to preserve order in the Highlands, known as the Black Watch, the origin of the famous Forty-second Regi- ment. He was an old man in 1744, but had found it convenient again to change his principles, and he maintained his callous effrontery when he stood on the scaffold on Tower Hill. Jacobite Agents. There were agents of the Stuarts, of many kinds and in many disguises, employed in England and Scotland to obtain information respecting the inclinations and means of the Jacobites, to forward confidential reports to head-quarters, and act generally as mediums of communication with adherents of the cause. One of these was Allan Cameron, who, after having been so employed in the Highlands, had the boldness to proceed to Edinburgh, to communicate with the Duke of Hamilton, Mr. Lockhart, and other agents of James in the south of Scotland. Cameron remained some time in Edinburgh, and al- though suspected, visited the taverns and other places of public resort. He possessed a pecu- liar talent, highly appreciated in those days, being able to outdrink all he met with, and never quitting a tavern till all his boon com- panions were dead drunk, so that " he was safe going home." From the information he obtained he was able to assure James at Rome that his friends had not fallen off in zeal, and that the people were ripe for another attempt ; but it should be made with a foreign force, which ought to land in Eng- land, and as near London as possible. Nothing more could be expected from the people of Scotland than a diversion to pre- vent the troops stationed there being called to England, or to intercept them if they marched. To assist them in doing so, a small body of foreign troops would be useful, and they would be quickly joined by the clans. The Old Pretender was not very willing that the expedition should be undertaken. He had almost outgrown ambition, and was tolerably happy at Rome. His little state, his visits to card-parties, his formal dinner- parties, were agreeable to him, and he had arrived at a time of life when danger ap- pears more dangerous, and peace and quiet- ness more acceptable, than when the hot blood of youth courses through the veins. Besides, he had learned not to trust too implicitly to the influence of his name on the turbulent chiefs of the Highlands, or of the traditions of his family on the spirit of the landed gentry ef England ; and had enjoyed some experience of the character of his selfish and profligate " dear ally," Louis XV. of France. After some hesitation he weakly released himself from the difficulty by throwing the responsibility upon his son, and Charles Edward was delighted to accept it. Departure of Charles Edward from Rome. Two English gentlemen, agents of the Jacobite party, had reached Rome, one to arrange the plan of action, the other provided with false passports to facilitate the move- ments of the young Prince. One of these gentlemen was sent back to France to inform Louis of the speedy arrival of Charles Edward^ the other to prepare for the journey through Genoese territory. On the 9th of January, 1744, a great hunting party in the Pontine Marshes was announced. The two young Princes, both distinguished for their love of sport, arranged to meet their friends at Caserta, about thirty miles from Rome, and provisions and material for a fifteen days' ^//^zj'j'^ were forwarded to that place, with many huntsmen and servants. Very early in the morning the Prince arose, and ordered his carriage to be got ready, and rode in it through the gate of San Giovanni, when he professed a sudden desire to mount a horse which his servant had brought with him, and to ride by the Albano road to Cisterna, whither the cari'iage was to proceed, saying in a laughing manner to Sheridan, who remained in it, "Let us see who will arrive there first." Away rode the Prince, accompanied by his first equerry, Chevalier Stafford, and a Scotch servant, both in the secret, and both eminently trustworthy. As soon as they were out of sight, Stafford was dismissed, and Charles Edward and his groom retraced their steps, skirted the walls of the city under cover of the darkness, and took the road to Florence. Shortly after the other party had arrived at Caserta, Stafford joined them, and told them that the Prince had fallen from his horse, and being slightly bruised, would rest for two or three days at Abano. The Duke of York and Sheridan acted their parts well ; the latter protested against leaving the Prince, and declared he would ride back and take 7' EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. care of him, roundly abusing Stafford for coming away. But the simulated anger soon cooled when he was told with admirable gravity that nothing serious need be appre- hended from so slight an accident, and that to make a fuss about it might greatly alarm JCing James. Meanwhile the Prince had reached the Villa Farnese at Caprarola, the residence of iCardinalAcquaviva,the Spanish ambassador, who was in the secret, and there he was dis- .guised as a courier in the Cardinal's service, and then by travelling day and night he .reached the Genoese territory. The farce was admirably kept up by Stafford, Sheridan, and the Duke of York. Stafford returned to Albano, and transmitted fictitious messages A Narrow Escape. Charles Edward, who had joined the Eng- lish agent sent in advance, reached Genoa (a distance of about 330 miles) at noon on the fifth day, having ridden about eighty miles a day, no slight feat of endurance, not having changed his dress or slept since he quitted Rome, nor eaten more than a few eggs hastily swallowed by the way Having rested for three or four hours, he started in a hired carriage for Savona, where he hoped to find a small vessel to carry him to Antibes, in France, which was impossible to reach by land, the Liguarian passes being strongly guarded by the King of Sardinia, who was in alliance with England, and the coast being Carlisle Castle. as to the state of the Prince's health, and the ^'hunt proceeded. Means were taken to inter- ■ cept letters which might allude to the Prince's ..absence; the fishermen of Fogliano (the place 1 to which the hunting party had moved) were 5'bribed to say nothing about it when they .attended the market at Rome ; and presents of game were sent to various persons in the -Prince's name. When the Prince was fairly ■on his way, and beyond the reach of inter- ference, his departure was made known, and, we are told, "great was the bustle, infinite the surprise, endless the speculations of the R onian public ; but a warm interest in his suc- cess, fervent wishes and devout prayers, were the veiling tribute of all classes to one whom they regarded as the pride and ornament of the city." watched by a British fleet under Admiral Matthews. A great storm prevented the arrival of the little vessel, and nothing was left for the Prince but to make his way to the little seaside village, Finale, to which the boat belonged. Having accomplished this, he went on board, and succeeded in passing Villafranca, where the British fleet was lying ; but as he was crossing the bay from Monaco to Antibes, his little vessel was observed from the mast-head of one of the ships, and an armed cutter was despatched in pursuit. We find the remainder of the adventure so well told that we quote the words :—'■'■ The chase was continued into the port of Antibes, which they reached together, the English insisting that if the Finale boat were admitted, they also should be, on pretext 72 OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE. of victualling. To get rid of the dilemma, the commandant ordered both off, saying that he could not give pratique to any boat from the Italian coast. Thus repulsed into the very jaws of the enemy, Charles with difficulty obtained that the English should start first, and when they were gone, dis- covered himself to the harbour-master, who, with many apologies, took him out of the Finale boat ere he sent it off again for Monaco, whither it was hotly pursued by the English cutter. It was not before dusk that Charles ventured to leave the harbour, and after a few hours' halt, he hurried to Avignon by land, whence, after a long consultation with the Duke of Ormond, he resumed his route to Paris." made for the great expedition. The French Admiral, Roquefeuille, assumed the command of the united Rochefort and Brest squadrons, and sailed up the British Channel, with the view of ascertaining whether it would be safe for the transport ships to venture on the passage. With fifteen ships of the line, and five frigates, he reached the Isle of Wight, and actually came within view of Spithead, where, strange to say, they was not an English ship lying at the time. Roquefeuille immediately sent a swift little vessel to Dunkirk, advising Marshal Saxe to embark his troops at once. Seven thousand men went on board; the Prince hurried from Gravelines, and he and Saxe embarked together. Roquefeuille sailed round the south coast of England to Tkf. Earl of Exeter's House, Derbv, where Chari.ks Euward Lodged. The Expedition in the Channel. The French capital was reached on the 20th of January, and the Prince naturally expected that he would receive a cordial welcome. Louis XV., however, did not find it convenient openly to adopt his cause, and refused to see him. Lord Elcho, Drummond of Bochaldy, and other Scotch refugees, warmly received him, and after living in concealment for a short time, the Prince departed quietly with Drummond for Gravelines, from the downs of which he for the first time gained a glimpse of the white cliffs of England. There he assumed the name of the Chevalier Douglas, and remained un- recognised. He vvas soon joined by the exiled Earl Marshal, and the preparations were Dun^ieness, in Kent, where he cast anchor; and no sooner had he done so than the English Channel fleet, of the whereabouts of which he had had no knowledge, appeared in sight. The English Admiral, Sir John Norris, who had been in the Downs for the purpose of adding some ships from the Medway to his fleet, was a good sailor and brave man, but too slow and methodical for great enterprises. He anchored within a short distance of the French fleet, thinking that, from, the state of the tide and the ap- proach of night, it would be better to defer the attack until the morning. The French Admiral possessed a full share of the prudence which Fal staff considered to be "the better part of valour," and not caring to encounter a force greatly superior to his own, slipped his cables. 73 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and — while Norris was enjoying his supper and grog, or sleeping to recruit his strength for the business of the morrow — bore away to the French coast. When the morrow cam-e there were the waves and the white cliffs only to be seen ; the French fleet had departed as mysteriously as the "Flying Dutchman" of the sailor's legend. A stiff breeze, which favoured Roquefeuille, drove back the transports ; some of the ships were sunk, others got on the coast among rocks and sandbanks, and those fortunate enough to get back to Dunkirk, suffered considerably in masts and rigging. The Prince returned, disappointed but not discouraged, to Grave- lines. The French Ministers found better employment for Saxe, their best general, in Flanders, and the troops were recalled. The "Chevalier Douglas." There was nothing to be done but to wait for another chance, " Chevalier Douglas " wrote from Gravelines to his father at Rome. " Nobody knows where I am, or what is be- come of me, so that I am entirely buried as to the public, and cannot but say that it is a very great constraint upon me, for I am obliged very often not to stir out of my room for fear of somebody noticing my face. I very often think that you would laugh very heartily if you saw me going about with a single servant, buying fish and other things, and squabbling for a penny more or less. Eveiybody is wondering where the Prince is ; some put him in one place, some in another, but nobody knows where he is really, and sometimes he is told news of himself face to face, which is very diverting." He was chafing with impatience, and offered to join the French army in Flanders, and fight against the English ; but Louis would not permit him, and Earl Marshal sagaciously reminded him that the worst means he could adopt to ingratiate himself with the English people would be fighting against them side by side with the French. That was an obvious truth, but the Prince would not see it, and com- plained bitterly to his father of the restraint placed on him. He shortly afterwards re- turned to Paris, in obedience to the wish of Louis, and lived for about a year in conceal- ment in a small house some distance from the capital. Departure from Franxe. His friends in Scotland and England were not idle. There was a secret association, having head-quarters at Edinburgh, of Scotch Jacobites of rank and influence. Lord James Drummond (commonly called Duke of Perth) ; his uncle. Lord John Drummond ; Lord Traquair ; Sir James Campbell, of Auchinbreck ; John Stuart, brother to Lord Traquair ; Cameron of Lochiel ; and as able and daring as any, if far less reputable, old Simon, Lord Lovat. English sympathisers^ too, were watching opportunity. The oppor- tunity came. The English got the worst of the fight at Fontenoy, near Tournay, in. Flanders, on the 30th of April, 1745, and the French had gained other, if small, successes. Charles Edward hastened to Paris, hoping to obtain funds ; but although the Ministers were quite willing to countenance his schemes, cash was not forthcoming. A diversion in Scotland might be favourable to French plans, but would not be worth any great sacrifices. The Prince was told by his Scotch friends that it would be useless for him to attempt the adventure unless he could bring with him 6,000 good troops, 10,000. stands of arms, and some money. He replied that come he would ; he had no troops, but he could borrow about ^13,000, and that he would send to Rome for his jewels and pawn them. " For our object," he said, — and perhaps he thought some value attached to the resolve,—" I would even pawn my shirt. " To his father he wrote, " Your Majesty can- not disapprove a son's following the example of his father. Let what will happen, the stroke is struck ; and I have taken a firm resolution to conquer or die." He asked for help from Spain, but with no result. Then he left Paris, where he had ceased to assume any incognito, and took up his residence at the Chateau de Navarre, near Evreux, the seat of one of his warmest friends, the young Duke de Bouillon. His great object was ta obtain a vessel, which the French govern- ment declined to furnish him with ; and he was fortunate enough to meet with two persons, named Rutledge and Walsh, of Irish extraction and the sons of refugees, who had added to the more legitimate occupation of trading as West Indian mer- chants the lucrative business of privateering. By their aid a passage was arranged. Rutledge had obtained from the French Court the grant of a man-of-war, the Elizabeth, to cruise on the coast of Scotland ; and on board that vessel the Prince placed all the war material he had been able to. accumulate, — 1,500 fusils, eighteen broad- swords, twenty small field pieces, and some powder, ball, and flints. This armament was small indeed for the purpose — that pur- pose being no less than the conquest of a powerful kingdom; but it was "his all." His friend Walsh provided a fast-sailing brig, the Dojitelle, carrying eighteen guns,, which went round to the mouth of the Loire ; and there, on the 2nd of July, received the Prince, who wore the dress of a student of the Scotch College at Paris, and allowed his beard to grow, the better to conceal his identity from the crew, who were led to believe that they were about to engage in an 1 74 OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE. ordinary privateering expedition. All the money Charles Edward possessed amounted to about ^3,000. A Naval Combat. The two ships sailed together from Belle Isle ; and in a very short time the Prince was prostrated by sea-sickness. He believed he could rule Britannia, but was little qualified to rule the waves. They had been at sea about four days, when they en- countered an English vessel of fifty-eight guns, the Lion, commanded by Captain Brett, who, in true EngHsh fashion, did not stay to reckon odds, but at once attacked the French ships. The Danielle left the Elisabeth to do the fighting, and made sail for Scotland. For about six hours the two ships pounded away at each other, and then both were so disabled that the fight ceased, leaving victory an open question. The French commander judged that the best course he could adopt was to return to France, and so he did as speedily as the shattered condition of his ship would permit, taking with him, however, the guns, the dozen and a half broadswords, the field pieces and ammunition provided for the expedition. "The Seven Men of Moidart." The Doutelle did not proceed unquestioned. Two days after she had quitted her com- panion and champion, she was pursued by an English ship of superior force, but was saved by her quicker sailing, and reached the Hebrides, casting anchor off the little island of Erisca, between Barra and South Uist. An eagle hovered over the ship (eagles were no novelty in western Scotland and the isles), and the Marquis of TuUibardine, one of the seven personal friends who accom- panied the Prince, exclaimed, " Here is the king of birds come to welcome your Royal Highness to old Scotland ! " The seven faithful adherents were TuUibardine (who would have been Duke of Athol, but for the bar of attainder consequent on his taking part in the rising of 1715, and was generally known by that title in the Highlands) ; Sir Thomas Sheridan ; Sir John Macdonald, an officer in the Spanish service ; Buchanan, who had been employed by Cardinal Tencin in the secret negotiation with the Pretender's family at Rome ; Eneas Macdonald, a banker of Paris, and brother of Kinloch of Moidart, a local chief; an English gentleman named Francis Strickland ; and Kelly, a nonjuring clergyman, who had been mixed up in the plots in which Bishop Atterbury engaged. This little band were afterwards widely known as "the seven men of Moidart." The Prince went on shore on the rocky island Erisca, assuming in the presence of the tacksman, or agent, the character of an Irish priest, and sent a message to MacDonald of Boudale, uncle of the MacDonald of Clan- ronald, the lord of the little group of islands. The shrewd old Scotchman at once declared that it was nothing short of madness for the Prince to persevere in the expedition, being so entirely unprovided, and flatly told him that Sir Alexander MacDonald and Mac- Leod, of MacLeod, twoleadingmenofthelsle of Skye, and on whose assistance the Prince had depended, had both declared they would not join him unless he brought with him a body of regular troops. Nothing discouraged, Charles Edward crossed to the mainland, and the Doutelle came to anchor in the bay of Lochnanaugh, between Moidart and Arisaig. MacDonald of Clanronald, and a kinsman, MacDonald of Kinloch Moidart, waited on him, and while professing their loyalty, endeavoured to impress on him a sense of the imprudence he was committing. The Prince noticed that a younger brother of Kinloch Moidart was listening eagerly to what passed, and exhibiting traces of emotion and nervous excitement, and with ready tact addressed himself to him : " You, at least, will assist me ? " The young man answered with eagerness, " I will, I will ; though no other man in the Highlands should draw a sword, I am ready to die for you!" His words sounded the first note of that marvellous outburst of enthusiasm and devotion which has scarcely a parallel in history. The other MacDonalds forgot the prudent counsel, and excitedly vowedthatthey wouid take up arms instantly and endeavor to engage every man who wore the tartan to do the same. The Young Chevalier in Scotland. The Prince remained on board th.Q Doutelle for three days ; and then, on the 25th of July, he set his foot for the first time on the main- land of Scotland. The Skye chiefs still held back; but the Glengarries and others hurried to the shore to greet him. Rapidly indeed, the enthusiastic feeling spread ; and very many years afterwards a word about the Prince would lighten the eyes and loose the tongues of Highlanders and Lowlanders alike. It must have been nearly fifty years afterwards when Caroline, Baroness Nairne, one of the most charming of Scotch poetesses, caught up the strain, and sang, — " The news from Moidart cam' yestreen, Will soon gar mony ferlic, For ships of war have just come in, And lanr'^id royal Charlie. Come thro .lie heather, around him gather, Ye'r a' the weleomer early ; Around him cling wi' a' your kin, For wha'U be king but Charlie ? Come thro' the heather, around him gather, Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegether. And crown your rightfu', lawfu' king 1 For wha'll be king but Cnarlie ?" 75 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Letters and messengers were despatched in every direction to summon the chiefs to meet the Prince, who took up his quarters at Borodale, a farm-house belonging to young Clanronald. Cameron, of Lochiel, — " the gentle Lochiel," the Bayard of the Highlands, — the Lochiel who, according to Campbell, was bidden by the wizard to " beware of the day when the foeman shouldmeet him in battle array," — was one of those who responded to the call, and, like others, at first considered the entei'prise most rash and ill-advised ; but the Prince was resolute, and his gallant bearing and handsome mien exercised an almost magnetic influence. Lochiel, whom he had been taught to consider one of his firmest friends, might if he chose stay at home, and " learn from the newspapers the fate of his Prince ; " but," said Charles Edward, " in a few days, with the few friends I have, I will erect the royal standard, and proclaim to the people of Great Britain that Charles Stuart is come over to claim the crown of his ancestors, or perish in the attempt." Lochiel was mastered, his chival- rous nature responded to the brave words, and he exclaimed, " No ! I will share the fate of my prince, and so shall every man over whom nature or fortune hath given me any power ! " The Prince then invited all who had gathered around him to a feast. The food was neither very rich nor very abundant, little more than frugal farm-house fare ; but it was enjoyed as if the occasion were a veritable symposium. Men, women, and children, we are told, crowded round the place to catch a glimpse of the Prince, and the chiefs drank cups of wine to the Gaelic toast, DeocJis laint ati Reogh I " God save the King!" "Charlie is My Darling." Doubtless some of the extraordinary per- sonal influence exercised by the Prince was due to his charm of manner and striking ap- pearance. Physical qualities were always highly appreciated by the Highlanders. " The Young Chevalier " was tall and well-formed, athletic and active. Manly amusements had developed his frame. He was a good shot, dextrous at martial exercises, a good fencer and dancer, and a walker of exceptional powers. The Highland chiefs found in him a leader who could march over the mountains and moorlands with a step as elastic as their own, and whose high bearing gave a warrant of the manly courage so de?r to the race. His features were strikingly handsome, his face oval, and his complexion ruddy. He did not, as the fashion was, wear a wig ; but his fair hair fell in curls about his neck. Added to these graces of body was a fine courtesy of manner, dignified, but yet familiar and kindly, which won all hearts. The Highland bards compared him to one of the Ossianic heroes ; the chiefs pronounced him to be "a pretty man," giving the Highland meaning of strong and active to the epithet ; the women, young and old, fell in love with M him. Who originated the verse, — fl| "Oh ! Charlie is my darling, My darling, my darling. Oh ! Charlie is my darling, The Young Chevalier," will never perhaps be known ; but the verse rang in Scotch ears for half-a-century or more, and was the refrain of verses by several poets. Burns supplied a version which he picked up somewhere — if he wrote it it does not appear in his collected works ; the Baroness Nairne, the Ettrick Shepherd, and Captain Charles Gray, wrote verses full of life and enthusiasm on the old theme. News of the arrival of the Prince soon reached the English authorities. Two com- panies of infantry were sent to reinforce the garrison at Fort William, but were attacked by a party of the Glengarry Highlanders and others, and taken prisoners. The general rendezvous of the clans who hurried to join the Prince was at Glenfinnan, a narrow valley between lofty mountains. There, in a shepherd's hut, the Prince awaited his friends. On the 19th of August, Lochiel arrived with about 600 followers, fine men, well armed ; a standard made of white, blue, and red silk (" the red, white, and blue," is not, it will be seen, averymodern combination) was unfurled by Tullibardine; and a manifesto from James and his commission of regency were read. Then Charles addressed the chiefs, and the clansmen, who probably did not understand a word he said, but could understand the expression of his face and his gestures, shouted and threw up their bonnets. A marble column now marks the spot where the stan- dard was raised. Before the day closed, Mac- Donald of Keppoch arrived with 300 men, and a detachment of the MacLeods followed ; and on the morrow the little but gradually increasing force moved southward. Before a couple of days had elapsed, the Prince was at the head of about 1,600 men, all ready to respond with Highland vigour to the question, " Wha wad na fecht for Charlie ? " English Preparations. When the news reached London, Ministers took measures to meet the danger, which did not seem to be very alarming. As a first step a reward of ^30,000 was offered for the Prince's apprehension ; but they hesitated, as the King was in Hanover, to send more troops to Scotland, although Sir John Cope, the English commander there, asked for re- inforcements. Cope concentrated his forces near Stirling ; and then the Marquis of Tweeddale, Secretary of State for Scotland, 76 OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE. and the Lords of the Regency, ordered him to march into the Highlands. With about 1,500 infantry and four field-pieces, Cope set out from Stirling for Crieff, intending to reach Fort Augustus, one of the three forts built to curb the Highlands. He left his cavalry, the dragoons commanded by Gardiner and Hamilton, behind, the country to be traversed being almost inpracticable to horsemen. The General thought that he would be joined by a considerable force of loyal subjects at Crieff, but none appeared. He received information that the Prince's forces intended to oppose him at Corryarrak, an immense mountain, Highlanders would have pursued, but the cooler leaders saw the advantage that had been gained. Cope had gone northwards, and the road to Stirling and Edinburgh was open. Highlanders continued to join the Prince's standard — not the less eagerly, some said, because there was now a prospect of a profitable raid on the Lowlands. Blair Castle was reached on the 30th of August, and the Whig Duke having fled, Tullibardine took possession as rightful owner, and grandly feasted the Prince and his friends. James Hogg, the Ettrick shepherd, — one of those who inherited the poetic traditions of the Flora Macdonald. traversed by a steep and extremely difficult military road, between him and Fort Augustus. His most experienced officers warned him of the danger of attempting to cross the moun- tain, when even a very small force of High- landers could bar his way and inflict great damage ; and the astute President Duncan Forbes advised him, from his knowledge of the locality, that disaster awaited him. Cope was either amazingly obstinate or afraid to dis- obey Tweeddale's orders. At Dalwhinnie the Highlanders were seen on the hills, and then Cope, realizing the difficulties of his situation, abandoned the zig-zag military road, and directed his march towards Inverness. The Jacobite times — has commemorated the gathering at Athol in memorable verses : — ' ' Cam' ye by Athol, lad wi' the philabcg, Down by the Tummel or banks of the Garry, Saw ye our lads wi' their bonnets and white cockades, Leaving their mountains to follow Prince Charlie? Follow thee ? follow thee ? who wadna follow thee ? Long hast thou loved and trusted us fairly ! Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee. King of the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie? " On the 4th of September the Prince arrived at Perth. His money was spent. It is stated that he had only one Lonis-d'or left ; but he gaily remarked he would soon get more. Armed parties were sent through Angus and 77 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Fife, and having proclaimed King James, the English public money was seized and taxes levied. The city of Perth gave ^500 ; and some ardent adherents in Edinburgh and other places advanced money, to be repaid when the " King should come to his own again." A ball was given to the ladies in a large old mansionbelongingto Lord Stormont, and there the handsome young Prince showed that he could dance admirably, and the " bonnie Charlie" was bonnier than ever. James Drummond, known to the Jacobites as the Duke of Perth, joined the Chevalier, and so did a much more important adherent, Lord George Murray, a brother of Tulli- bardine, who had "been out" in 1715, — a soldier of great experience and ability, who, although he had been pardoned by the English Government and allowed to live peaceably on his estates, could not resist the call to support "the cause;" but who soon quarrelled with Sheridan and others, for whom he expressed, with little reserve, great contempt. A printing press was set up at Perth, and a burlescfue reward of ^30 offered for " the apprehension of the Elector of Hanover." On the nth of September the Highland army left Perth, and on the next day pushed on to Dunblane, and thence to the Firth of Forth, which they prepared to cross at Frew, where the river is fordable at low water. About eight miles above Stirling, Gardiner's dra- goons were on the opposite bank ; but at the sight of the Highlanders they retreated to- wards Leith. The river was crossed, Stirling Castle passed,the famous field of Bannockburn traversed, and Falkirk reached, the Prince passing the night at Callendar, the seat of the Earl of Kilmarnock. Lord George Murray, with a thousand Highlanders made a rapid march to Linlithgow, hoping to come up with the dragoons, but the valiant horsemen preferred to hurry away when they heaid John Highlandman was coming. At Linlithgow and Edinburgh. On the evening of Sunday the TJth of September, the Prince took up his quarters in the old royal palace so intimately associ- ated with his ancestors of the kingly house of Stuart, within sixteen miles of Edinburgh, where a panic reigned. Volunteers were enrolled, mostly tradesmen and young students, animated by the best intentions, but extremely deficient in military knowledge. Some efforts were hurriedlymade tostrengthen the walls, and application was made to General Guest, the commandant at the Castle, for assistance ; but the garrison was small, and he could not spare a man. The Highlanders were the " bogies " of the peaceful Edinboro' folk, and the most terrible consequences were predicted to follow should they enter the town. The Prince sent a messenger to the city to tell the people that, if they admitted him peaceably all would be well, but other- wise, they must make up their minds for the worst. At Colt's Bridge, on the road to Corstorphine, now almost a suburb of Edin- burgh, Gardiner had posted a detachment of dragoons, but they retreated, at first leisurely, but afterwards with great rapidity, and the " canter of Colt's Bridge" was for long after- wards a popular jocular reference. Very ex- aggerated estimates of the Prince's force were made, and the Provost resolved to send a de- putation which could only bring back a reply that the Prince demanded to be received into the city as the representative of his father the lawful king, and that he would only wait a few hours for their answer. A second' deputation was sent, but the Prince would not see the messenger, who returned in a desponding state. Some of the Highlanders reached Edinburgh before them, and when the old gate of the Netherbow was opened to allow their coach to pass, Lochiel and 800 High- landers rushed in. Edinburgh was won, and the officials were compelled to proclaim, in high state, with heralds in their showy dresses, King James, at the Market Cross, to read the commission from James, and the manifesto of the young Prince. Chiefly through the exertions of Lochiel, the Highlanders were kept from plundering, and even, it is said, from drinking whisky. In the evening Holyrood was lighted up, and in the long gallery, adorned with that wonderful collection of manufactured portraits of a hundred Scottish kings (the hundred a very unhistorical number), " each and every one painted with a nose like the knocker of a door,'' according to Scott, the Prince gave a ball, well attended, for there was a strong latent element of Jacobitism in the old city, and the ladies were delighted with the gracious manners and graceful dancing of the young Chevalier. Cope had landed with his troops, artillery, and stores, at Dunbar, and on the 19th of September, started for Edinburgh, moving slowly along the main road, and encountering no opposition. He and his officers appear to have thought that the Pretender's forces would advance and meet them ; but the High- landers liked to fight in their own fashion. While Cope was advancing in regular military order, the Highlanders were making their way over the hills ; and when the English general had reached Prestonpans, near Seaton, and about ten miles from Edinburgh, the hostile forces came in sight of each other. The Prince had been joined by the Earl of Kellie, Lord Balmerino, Sir Stewart Threip- land. Sir David Murray, and some other Lowland gentlemen. More Highlanders had arrived in hot haste ; and Sir Walter Scott 78 OUT IN THE FORTY-FIVE. relates how one of the chiefs, Grant of Glen- moriston, rushed into the Prince's presence at Holyrood with unceremonious speed, without having attended to the duties of his toilet. The Prince, who was disposed to insist a little on etiquette in a royal palace, received him kindly, but not without a hint that a previous interview with the barber would have been advantageous. " It is not beardless boys," answered the displeased chief, " who are to do your Royal Highness's turn." The Battle of Prestonpans. Between the Prince's army and Cope's was a swamp, which did not appear to be passable, and for the remainder of the day both sides were inactive. But in the night, Robert Anderson, a Jacobite livinginthe neighbour- hood, undertook to show a way by which the morass could be crossed. The passage was accomplished before daylight ; and then followed the battle of Prestonpans, the defeat of Cope, and the death of the pious and brave Colonel Gardiner. The fight was short, but the victory was complete. The dragoons displayed their customary talent at running away. The infantry, appalled by the tremendous onslaught of the Highlanders with their clay- mores, surrendered by hundreds ; eighty officers were taken prisoners, and the tents, baggage, and military chests fell into the hands of the Prince's troops, whose loss was very slight. The Prince remained on the field till mid-day, giving orders for the relief of the wounded on both sides, and slept that night at Pinkie House. He found ^1,500 in Cope's military chest ; and as his troops had shown con- siderable alacrity in obtaining money, pro- visions, stores, and arms, from the towns- people and others, he was fairly well provided. The castle held out, and the commandant. Guest, even fired into the town, and did some damage. On his return from Pinkie, the Prince made a triumphant entry into Edinburgh, Highlanders firing into the air to show their joy ; and night after night there were gay doings at Holyrood. Parliament met on the i8th of October, and there was, of course, great excitement in England. The merchants of London sub- scribed large sums for the equipment of troops, and regiments were raised in various parts of the country. Dutch and Danish troops came over, and the Duke of Cumber- land (" the butcher," as he was afterwards called) arrived from Flanders to take the chief command. On his part, the Prince issued proclamations denouncing the English " pretended Parliament," and declaring that the Act of Union was abolished. A French ship arrived with money, experienced officers, about 5,000 stands of arms, and M. de Boyer, who brought letters of congratulation from Louis XV. The Prince formed a regular Council of State ; he was joined by other Highland chiefs, a.nd by the end of October was at the head of nearly 6,000 men, tolerably well appointed. White Cockades over the Border. On the 1st of November began the march to England. Nearly a thousand more High- landers joined the standard, and the army was divided into two columns — the first, with the baggage, artillery, etc., to move upon Carlisle ; the second, headed by Charles himself, to enter England by way of North- umberland, and meet General Wade, the English commander, who was posted at Newcastle. Many Highlanders deserted before the border was reached, but the greater number were faithful and enthu- siastic. Fifty years afterwards, the "screed" of the bagpipes seems to have rung in the ears of Baroness Nairne, who caught the tone of the wild music, and Avrote as if she had seen the white cockades on the march, and the gallant Charlie himself with all his brave surrounding : — " Wi' a hundred pipers, an a', an a,' Wi' a hundred pipers, an a', an a,' We'll up, and we'll gi'e them a blaw, a blaw, Wi' a hundred pipers, an a', an a'. " It is ower the border, awa', awa', It is ower the border, awa', awa'. Oh, we'll on, an' we'll march to Carlisle Ha ! Wi' its getts, its castel, an' a', an a'. " Oh, wha is the foremaist o' a', an' a' ? Who is it first follows the blaw, the blaw ? — Bonnie Charlie, the King o' us a', an" a', Wi' his hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'." The border was crossed, Carlisle was taken with little difficulty, and the Prince entered in triumph, but received rather a cold wel- come. Already dissensions and jealousies were breaking out in his army, and there were divided counsels. Some of the leaders advocated a direct march southwards, in assurance that the Lancashire men would join the standard ; others thought that General Wade should be attacked at New- castle ; and not a few advised a return to Scotland, as there were no signs of assistance from France. The last course would be attended with difficulties. Edinburgh had been reinforced ; the Highland Whigs were mustering their forces ; Glasgow, Paisley, Dumfries, Dundee, and other great towns declared for King George. Marshal Wade had collected a strong force and was march- ing against Carlisle, and the Duke of Cumber- land was at Lichfield, Liverpool and Chester were arming, and the former town furnished a very important addition to Cumberland's forces. Back Again ! 79 It is not necessary to relate all the move- ments of the Princes' divided, quarrelsome EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and partially despondent army. Preston, Wigan, and Manchester were reached, and at Derby the southward march was ended. The leaders saw that the expedition had failed, and a retreat was decided on. Cumberland was advancing with a large army, including many veterans of Dettingen and Fontenoy, and Marshal Wade was on the move. The retreat began with some appearance of order, but soon assumed the character of a disas- trous flight. The Highlanders robbed vil- lages and farmhouses, and there were many small fights between them and the country people. Major-General Oglethorpe, with a detachment of Wade's army, harassed the fugitives ; and Cumberland was in full pur- suit. On the 2oth of December, the Prince, with a fragment of his army, a mere rabble, crossed tlie Esk and was once more in Scotland. Then followed the light at Falkirk,— the Prince's troops having been strengthened and probably re-organized, — in which General Hawley, the English commander, was shame- fully defeated— " ran away," say the Jacobite song writers and anecdotists ; the retreat from Stirling, and at length the culminating disaster. The resolute, pitiless Cumberland was on the trail ; and at Drummossie Moor, better known as CuUoden, near Inverness, on the i6th of April, struck a blow which ended the rebellion. Of the friends of Charles there perished on that terrible day, either in action or in the pell-mell retreat, nearly 2,500. The fugitives were hunted down like wild beasts, the wounded were massacred in cold blood, women and children were killed, and for three months there was a "war of extermination." The Young Chevalier a Fugitive. Charles Edward himself, no more a gallant Prince at the head of an enthusiastic army, but a miserable fugitive, wandered for five months, trusting to the fidelity of his friends for concealment and safety. He hid for some time amid the little islands of the Hebrides, at times almost starved, and suffering terrible privations ; and when English ships appeared off the islands, and English soldiers landed to search for the fugitive, he escaped, disguised in woman's clothes, with the aid of a brave young lady. Flora Macdonald, whose name lives in legend and song. He reached Skye in safety, but the generous Flora was captured and taken prisoner to London. The Prince reached the mainland, was hidden for a time in a cave on the great mountain of Corado, between Kintail and Glenmoriston, protected by Highland " sheep-lifters," thieves by pro- fession, but not one unfaithful to his trust. Escape to France. At length, on the 13th of September, Charles Edward left the cave, having received a message to the effect that two French frigates were off the coast. Several of his old friends had also been communicated with ; and on the 20th of the month, he, with Lochiel, and about a hundred others, em- barked at Lochnanaugh, the very spot where fourteen months before he had landed so full of ambition and hope. He reached Paris and was well received ; but the cause of the Stuarts had received its deathblow. Some of his adherents were beheaded on Tower Hill, others of meaner sort were hanged. Feeble attempts to revive the Stuart cause were made from time to time, but the gallant young Chevalier soon became almost a legendary hero. Stuart selfishness, Stuart duplicity, Stuart profligacy, developed in his character. His friends fell away. English gentlemen would not risk their lives for a man who would not dismiss a mistress who had intimate relations with the Court of King George. It is believed that he more than once visited London secretly ; indeed, Dr. King, a warm adherent of the Stuarts, has left it on record that he met him in private at the house of a lady of rank. Some writers have averred that he was present at the coronation of George III. ; and the King himself was able to inform his Ministers, some years afterwards, that the young Pre- tender was in London. " Leave him to himself," added the monarch, " and when he tires he will go back again." " Let us," wrote Scott in the Quarterly, "be just to the memory of the unfortunate. Without courage, he had never made the attempt ; without address and military talent, he had never kept together his own desultory bands, or discomfited the more experienced soldiers of his enemy ; and finally, without patience, resolution, and fortitude, he could never have supported his cause so long under successive disappointments, or fallen at last with honour, by an accumulated and over- whelming pressure." The story of Charles Edward has almost created a literature. The Jacobite songs, unsurpassed for fire and en- thusiasm, form a volume in themselves ; and to "The Forty-five," we owe the Waverley Novels. There died at Florence, on the 31st of January, 1788, in his 68th year, a bloated, brutal, profligate man, an habitual drunkard, who had beaten and ill-treated his young wife, a Princess of Stolberg Guendern, and who seemed capable only of exhibiting affec- tion for one person, his illegitimate daughter, whom he styled Duchess of Albany. That unhappy man, who attracted no friends, a reprobate and a sot, was the last Stuart who chiimed the throne of England — " Bonnie Prince Charlie." G. R. E. %o Old London Bridge in the Eighteenth Century. WILKES AND LIBERTY THE STORY OF A POPULAR VICTORY. A Great Diplomatist and an Important Meeting— John Wilkes, the Best-abused Public Man of his Time— State of Affairs at the Death of George II. — The New King; His Ideas of Royal Prerogative— A King's Favourite; A Singular Prime Minister— A Lesson to Royalty— The Minister and his Novel Policy— A Government Press— The Briton and the Auditor^-^Wk&'i and his Early Career; The Medmenham Monks— TA^ North Briton; The Famous Forty-fifth Number— General Warrant— Wilkes Committed to the Tower— Liberation of Wilkes; His First Triumph— Churchill — Lord Temple— Successful Actions— Personal Animosity of the King; Prosecution for a Profligate Book— Culprit and Accusers— "Jemmy Twitcher"— A Duel— Expulsion from Parliament— Public Agitation — Rockingham Ad- ministration—Middlesex Elections — Wilkes a Popular Hero— Persecution and its Consequences— Important Questiori. —Freedom of Election- Release of Wilkes— His Return and Triumphs— His Last Years— Conclusion. A Great Diplomatist and an Important Meeting. jHAT fussiest and most indefatigable of men in the managing of small affairs, Tames Boswell, Esq., of Auchinleck, devotes a number of pages of his " Life of Johnson" to the relation of a piece of diplomacy on which the good- natured follower of " My illustrious friend " evidently prided himself not a little, and the success of which he seems to regard as the Machiavellian triumph of his life. Boswell, who ran after every one who was famous or even notorious, and was equally proud of being "the friend" of Paoli and ''the friend'' I of Johnson, had conceived the idea that the | Doctor, monarchist and high churchman as he was, and given to declare in thunderous i tones, " The Crown has not power enough, sir," might yet be induced to find some- thing congenial in the man who was, or at least had been, considered the chief dema- 8i gogue of his time, and the most formidable opponent of the Crown, — Mr. John Wilkes, or- as the Doctor was accustomed less cere- moniously to dub him, "Jack Wilkes." He according devised a notable scheme to bring the two men together. First, by in- sinuating a doubt whether Johnson would not be offended at being asked to meet people he disliked at the table of a friend, he artfully entrapped the Doctor into a boister- ous declaration that a man had a right to invite anyone he pleased to his table, and that he, Johnson, would never question that right or call his host to account for using it ; then he went off and proposed to Mr. Dilly, the bookseller of the Poultry, that he should ask Johnson and Wilkes to dinner on the same day. " Dr. Johnson would never for- give me," cried the startled bibliopole. But Boswell persevered, and magnanimously offered to take all the consequences on him- self. He conveyed a respectful invitation EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HIS 7 OR Y. from Mr. Dilly to the sage, who complacently replied : " Sir, I am obliged to Mr. Dilly. I will wait upon him." But when the day came, Johnson had forgotten all about Dilly and his dinner, and Boswell calling for him, found him literally in the clouds, for he was vigorously dusting his books ; and on being reminded of his engagement, replied doubt- fully that he had promised to dine at home with blind Mrs. Williams. But Boswell was not to be put off. He boldly promised to win over the lady to consent ; and by piteously pleading the disgrace he should suffer if the chief guest did not put in an appearance at Mr. Dilly's dinner, he softened Mrs. WiUiams into yielding ; whereupon the sage, not ill-pleased, perhaps, with the change in the day's programme, roared out to Frank Barber for a clean shirt, and was presently carried off by Boswell, who describes his own elation as equal to that of a fortune- hunter who had secured an heiress to make a trip with him to Gretna Green. He then tells how disturbed Johnson was when, on arriving at Mr. Dilly's, he found that a certain gentleman in lace "was no other than Mr. Wilkes ; " and how he was fain to take up a book and pretend to read, to hide his discomfiture ; but, mindful probably of his own words a few days before, said nothing ; how the announcement of dinner came as a welcome relief to the awkwardness of the situation ; how the artful Mr. Wilkes, boldly taking his seat near Johnson, was assiduously bent on attacking him through one of the Doctor's weak points, his appre- ciation of his dinner ; perseveringly pressing upon him an especially good dish of veal with a dash of lemon or orange — until the sage, who had intended to wrap himself up in " surly virtue," was induced to respond with, " Sir, sir, you are very obliging, sir ; " and the ice having been once broken, they got on remarkably well together, and sepa- rated mutually pleased with each other, to the delight and triumph of diplomatic Boswell. John Wilkes, the Best- abused Public Man of his Time. The person who managed to conquer the sage of Bolt Court was certainly during a part of his career, and even to some extent after his death, the best-abused man in England. Macaulay, while acknowledging the illegality and foolishness of the persecu- tion to which he was subjected at the hands of George III. and His Majesty's Ministers, yet speaks of him as "that worthless demagogue, Wilkes." Lord Brougham has treated him with no more courtesy or con- sideration ; and Earl Russell has cast the heaviest of stones at his memory. The terrible caricature by Hogarth, in which he is depicted in squinting hideousness, has dwelt in men's memory, and has caused him to be set down as a monster whose external ugliness was a true indication of his mind ; and very few have been disposed to give him any credit for the real and meritorious ser- vice he did to the nation at large, in standing up for personal freedom and the liberty of the press at a time when both were seriously jeopardised. The homely proverb concern- ing giving a dog a bad name and hanging him, never had a truer illustration than in the case of this man, whose strange fate it was to be successively a borough member, High Sheriff of Buckinghamshire and colonel of militia, a prisoner in the Tower, an out- law, a prisoner again, alderman of the ward of Farringdon-without, Lord Mayor of London, sheriff, knight of the shire for Middlesex, and chamberlain of the City, Time, that effaces many prejudices, and puts forward men and things in their true colours at last, has done something towards award- ing justice to Wilkes ; and it may not be uninteresting to our readers, if we put before them briefly the facts that rendered the ex- member for Aylesbury for a series of years one of the most conspicuous men in the country ; his name being so much in every- body's mouth, that Horace Walpole records how a member of a mercantile firm inadver- tently began a business letter with the extraordinary exordium, "We take the Wilkes and liberty of informing you," etc., instead of the usual opening sentence. State of Affairs at the End of the Reign of George 11. The reign of George II. closed in a blaze of triumph in England. William Pitt, " the Great Commoner," as the people affection- ately called him, who had won the foremost place in the councils of his country without the aid of high birth or strong family connec- tion, was at the height of his power and popu- larity. The armies and fleets of England had been everywhere successful, and the misfortunes and tragic death of poor Byng had been forgotten, effaced in the glorious successes of army and navy in Canada, and on the French coast, and in distant India. " May our commanders have the eye of a Hawke and the heart of a Wolfe T'' was a favourite toast, in punning allusion to the names of two of the greatest leaders. The nation was more than content, and cheerfully paid even the annual subsidy for the army of the great Frederick of Prussia, who was then in the very midst of the gigantic struggle of the " Seven Years' War.'' Prosperous in commerce, and successful in war, with an old king who wisely " let well alone," and left the popular ministry to do its best, all went well till the death of George II. placed his 82 WILKES AND LIBERTY. grandson on the throne, and a new epoch began in the history of England. For the first time since the Revolution of 1688, royal prerogative began to assert itself against popular liberty in England. With the exception of Queen Anne, who, though at heart a Tory, was compelled by her position to govern chiefly with a Whig Ministry and on Whig principles, every monarch in England since 1688 had been a foreigner, and as such compelled scrupulously to keep within the strict limits traced by the the Constitution and the Declaration of Rights. The first and second Georges had preferred Hanover to The New King and his Ideas of Royal Prerogative. But when George III. came to the throne, his position was very different. He was able to announce to the nation immedi- ately after his accession that "he gloried in the name of a Briton," and to point to the fact that he had been born and bred in England. Since his father's death, nine years before, he had been brought up in almost entire seclusion, under the care of his mother, the Princess Dowager of Wales, who has been credited, rightly or wrongly, with instil. William Hogarth, one of the Detractors of Wilkes. England, got away when they could from St. James's to Herrenhausen, and let things take their course. The sarcastic mock epitaph written on the second George, that represents the monarch as saying, — " I neither had manners, nor morals, nor wit, I was not much missed when I died in a fit," — had some truth in its scurrility ; for the first two Georges never had any great hold upon the respect or affection of their English subjects. They had been accepted to avoid the dismal alternative of a son of James II. ; and they fully understood the state of affairs in England. ling into her son those aspirations towards arbitrary power which he began to display almost from the day of his accession. His hostility towards the Ministry began to mani- fest itself from the very first ; and one by one the members of that Ministry were compelled to resign their positions, the great Commoner himself forming no exception ; though in his case his fall was softened by expressions of appreciation on the part of the young king for the great things he had done, and by substantial marks of the royal favour, such at the bestowal of a peerage on the wife of the retiring minister. The Duke of New- castle, the nominal head of the administra- ^l EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tion, clung to office with the tenacity of servile, all-enduring ambition, — a persistence that re- calls Dickens's picture of one of the Barnacle family "sticking to a post." He endured mortification and humiliation of various kinds from which the haughty spirit of Pitt would have instinctively shrunk, allowed himself to be insultingly reminded of the days " when he had the power " to promote a supporter, and to the great detriment of his self-respect put off the evil day of resignation to the very last, — with no result, however, but that of lengthening out his mortification and grief; he had to acknowledge at last that the game was lost, and to retire from a position that even to the most meek-spirited of men would have been unendurable. For the King had determined that none but his own " friends," men raised by his favour to power and dependent upon his good-will for the continuance of their offices, should hold great places in the Government. He was the resolved to emancipate himself from the thraldom in which he considered his grand- father and great grandfather to have been held ; and especially put forward a favourite of his own for the position of First Lord of the Treasury. A King's Favourite ; An Unusual Prime Minister. This favourite was John, Earl of Bute, a Scottish nobleman, who had been groom of the stole in the service of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and had continued to occupy a high place in the confidence, indeed, scandal said, the highest place in the affection, of the Princess Dowager after her husband's death. Lord Waldegrave, in his "Memoirs," has placed on record the sarcasm quoted by Macaulay, in which the Prince pronounced his opinon that Bute was the very man to be minister at some German Court, where there was no business to transact ; — hardly the man, one would think, to take the foremost place in an English government. And yet to the fore- most place was Bute promoted ; for, on the fall of Newcastle, he was made Prime Minister. The appointment seemed at first like a jest, and a very sorry one ; and the public, in its amazement, could scarcely believe the news to be true. Of experience in parlia- mentary life, Bute had actually none. He delivered his maiden speech from the Trea- sury bench as Prime Minister, acquitting him- self, indeed, with more dignity and self-pos- session than his hearers had expected, though his utterances were marred by the pomposity which Lord Waldegrave describes as characteristic of him on every occasion important or unimportant ; and a wit, amused by the long theatrical pauses he made in his sentences, called out, " Minute guns !" The 84 amazement was soon converted to indigna- tion by the system adopted, in deference to his master's wishes, by the new Prime Minister. George IIL had already given undoubted proofs of that hatred of the Whigs which continued to be his prevailing characteristic so long as life and reason remained to him. A system of persecution began, which after a time extended to all of that party — from the Duke of Devonshire, to whom the King sent so insulting a message by a page, that the indignant nobleman tore off the golden key he wore as chamberlain, and flung it on the ground, down to the custom-house officers, messengers, and housekeepers who had been appointed by his predecessors. It was wittily observ^ed that Bute turned out every- body who owed his place to the Whigs, except the King. It quickly became mani- fest that High Tory principles were indispen- sable for the securing of court favour and patronage ; and when it appeared that, in addition to this qualification, unbounded servihty was required, and that Scottish extraction was almost as necessary, the public indignation against the Minister became intense, and Bute could hardly appear in the streets for fear of insult or even personal injury. A Lesson to Royalty ; The Minister AND HIS Novel Policy. One instance is particularly recorded, in which George III. received an unmistakable indication of the direction public opinion was taking. Not long after the dismissal of Pitt, the King, who had recently married, came with the Queen to dine with the city magnates at Guildhall. The people took this opportunity to give the Court apiece of its mind in the shape of a tremendous ovation to Pitt, the fallen minister ; while Bute was hooted as his carriage passed through the streets, and the King and Queen were almost unnoticed. The policy of the Prime Minister, too, was not calculated to win confidence and good-will. He hastened to undo, with most injudicious promptitude, all that his predecessors in office had done. The subsidy paid to the King of Prussia was suddenly withdrawn, and Frederick was aban- doned to his fate, in the very midst of his struggle with Austria and the Powers in league with her. Peace was to be made with France and Spain, though Canada wonfromtheformer, and Havannah and the Philippines wrested from the latter, Power, had made the war a most popular one in England ; but these '\ successes had been gained under a Whig administration, and the war was a part of the Whig policy, and consequently distasteful at court. Pitt had declared that while he was in power England should never make a treaty WILKES AND LIBERTY. of Utrecht, that is, a peace in \rhich an ally should be abandoned, as the Archduke, or rather the Emperor, Charles had been abandoned in 1713 ; but the King was determined to carry out this peace, in which some of the most valuable acquisitions of the British crown were given up. Henry Fox, the able and unscrupulous, was induced to lend his powerful aid towards this object. Sixty thousand pounds was spent in bribing members of the House of Commons ; and in spite of the strenuous opposition of Pitt, who though suffering ci-uelly from gout, came down to the House, and spoke long and vehemently against the peace, the measure was carried by a large majority ; and great was the triumph of the King, the Prime Minister, and the Princess Dowager of Wales. The popular excitement and ferment caused by these events is amusingly illustrated in a passage from a letter by Mrs. Scott, a sister of Mrs. Montagu, quoted by Mr. Rae in his ■*' Lives of the Opposi- tion Leaders under George HI." "If you order a mason to build an oven," this lady writes, " he immediately inquires about the pro- gress of the peace, and descants on the prelimi- naries. A carpenter, instead of putting up a cupboard, talks of the Princess Dowager, of Lord Treasurers, and of Secretaries of State. Neglected lie the trowel and the chisel, the mortar dries, and the John Wilkes. glue hardens,"— here the lady becomes poetical, — " while the persons who should use them are busy with disserta- tions on the Government." A Government Press; The "Briton" AND THE "Auditor." Since the death of Queen Anne, the various Ministeries had cared little for the support of writers in the public press ; the ascendency of the Whigs for a long series of years had been too complete to render such assistance necessary ; and as Lord Macaulay observes, Walpole would have considered as wasted any part of the fund of corruption turned aside from the direct business of buying votes to the payment of pamphleteers. But Bute was fain to call in assistance of this kind ; and Dr. Tobias Smollett, the author of *' Roderick Random" and other coarse and clever novels, and Murphy, the dramatist, 85 were called in to uphold the views and pro- ceedings of the Government in the Briton and the Auditor; and if thoroughness ol assertion and vehemence are to be considered as merits, both these gentlemen earned their money well. They had certainly a difficult task to perform ; for, added to Bute's personal unpopularity, the Ministry had to bear the odium of the vagaries of Sir Francis Dash- wood, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who imposed the detested Cider Tax, and who, Horace Walpole tells us, " with the familiarity and phrase of a fish-wife, introduced the humours of Wapping behind the veil of the Treasury." With a Prime Minister who could not spell, and a Finance Minister who could not cast up a column of figures, the country was strangely served ; and, indeed, Sir Francis was conscious of his deficiencies, and declared, with a ludicrous assumption of distress, that he would be pointed at by the street-boys as the worst Chancellor of the Exche- quer that ever was. Thus the Briton and the Auditor had to bol- ster up a very bad case ; and to add to their diffi- culties they had not even the ground to them- selves. For presently there appeared on the field an opponent, under the title of the North Briton, a paper written with considerable ability and still greater impu- dence,— confident, volu- ble in assertion, amus- ing and smart in style, and putting unpleasant truths concerning the Government in the plainest language, and heaping merciless ridicule upon the Ministry and all its works. The audacious new-comer also took a step in advance of its predecessors by scorning the half-concealment of initials, and printing every name, from that of the King downwards, in full. And great was the wrath of the King and the Ministry at the audacity of this graceless North Briton, whose course they endeavoured in vain to stop by threaten- ing an action for libel, which threat the pro- prietor turned into a convenient advertisement by informing his readers of it; whereupon the circulation of the paper increased at this practical proof of the annoyance it was causing to the Government. Wilkes and his early Career; The Medmenham Monks. The proprietor who contrived so deeply to EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. interest his readers, and to exasperate the Ministry, was John Wilkes, Member of Parhament for Aylesbury. He was born in 1727, the second son of Israel Wilkes, a wealthy distiller of London ; and having from an early age shown considerable ability, had been well educated ; beginning his course at a school at Hertford, then being removed to Aylesbury, and completing his studies at the university of Leyden, in Holland. After travelling some time on the Continent, he returned to England ; and at the persuasions of his father, who seems to have had a con- siderable care for the main chance, he married, at the age of twenty-two, a Miss Mead, a young lady who had a fortune, and was his senior by more than ten years. Wilkes himself afterwards spoke of this union as "a sacrifice to Plutus, not to Venus." A daughter was born to him, of whom he appears to have been devotedly fond, main- taining a correspondence with her to the end of his life : she survived him five years. His marriage, as might have been expected, was not a happy one. It was a profligate age, and the young man was rather disposed to go in advance of the evil fashion of the day, than to lag behind it. After a short residence in the house of his wife's mother, in Red Lion Court, in London, he took up his abode with Mrs. Wilkes in Great George Street, West- minster, and there shocked his wife and the proprietors by becoming the associate of about as "fast" a set of demireps as even London could produce in those days when hard drinking, gambling, and the vices generally were considered desirable and even essential qualifications for a man of fashion. Among his chosen companions was Sir Francis Dashwood, before mentioned, the founder of a delectable society of so-called " Monks of St. Francis," at Medmenham, near Marlow on the Thames, an old Cistercian abbey, which he restored for the purpose ; and where a chosen company of profligates of fashion made blackguards of themselves to their hearts' content, singing blasphemous songs, and practising wickedness generally, on a scale that excited the envy of less daring spirits who longed in vain to be admitted to the orgies of the " Hellfire Club," and to join in the parody of religious rites and observ- ances which formed one of the chief attrac- tions at its feasts. Other members of this precious fraternity were Lord Sandwich, after- , wards First Lord of the Admiralty, and Mr. Thomas Potter, son of the Archbishop of Canterbury, a Member for Aylesbury, and soon afterwards Vice-Treasurer for Ireland. These companions, it may be supposed, were not to the taste of Mrs. Wilkes ; and before er husband joined the Medmenham brother- hood, the ill-assorted couple had already agreed to part, — the best thing under the cir- cumstances ; and thenceforth their lives were separated. The " North Briton " ; The Famous Forty-fifth Number. Wilkes endeavoured to find an opening for a parliamentary career ; and after an un- successful attempt at Berwick-on-Tweed, in 1754, he succeeded in getting elected as Member for Aylesbury, in 1757. He must have been looked upon as a person of some consideration in the county of Buckingham, for he became high sheriff, and when the Bucks regiment of militia was formed, he was appointed lieutenant-colonel. He was also a Fellow of the Royal Society. He declared himself an admirer and supporter of William Pitt, the great Commoner ; and soon made himself conspicuous by hostility to the favourite. Lord Bute, — a sentiment in which the great majority of Englishmen very heartily joined. When the North Briton had reached its forty-fourth number, not without bringing considerable danger to author, publisher, and printer, he suspended the issue of it for a time, intending to bring it out in volumes as a complete work. Just at that time, to the great surprise of the public, the news had been suddenly spread abroad that the Prime Minister had resigned. Various conjectures were naturally made as to the reason for this totally unexpected and apparently inex- plicable step. The retiring minister himself alleged the wantof support from his colleagues. The theory put forward by Lord Macaulay, in his essay on the " Earl of Chatham," probably comes near the truth. He suggests that Bute, who had not gone through the regular parliamentary routine that hardens a politician, and enables him to bear with equanimity the obloquy that follows the foot- steps of an unpopular statesman, — coming late into the turmoil of political strife, probably considered the sweets of office an inadequate compensation for its disagreeables and restraints, and was glad to get rid of the responsibility he had unwisely assumed. It has been thought also that the King was disappointed in him, and gave him but little support, and that the popular idea of the in- fluence he possessed over George III. was much exaggerated. Be this as it may, it is certain that he retired ; and his successor in office was George Grenville, the brother- in-law of Lord Temple and of William Pitt. It was on the occasion of the speech from the throne in the middle of April, 1763, that the famous forty-fifth number of the North Briton appeared ; and in this number the writer denounced the Ministers as having put into the mouth of their royal master words that were not true and were calculated to mislead the public. Compared with many of the WILKES AND LIBERTY. utterances in earlier issues of the North Briton, the strongest passages in the famous No. 45 are not especially objection- able. The writer vents his sarcasm on the Ministers, whom he represents as duping the King ; but had not George III. been spoilt by the crawling flatter}' of the mean- spirited sycophants known as " The King's friends " ? it is difficult to understand what he could have seen in the words to awaken the burning and long enduring hatred cherished towards the writer, and the per- sistent malignity with which he endeavoured to ruin him. The words selected for prose- cution were these : — " The King's speech has always been considered by the legislature and by the public at large as the speech of the Minister. It has regularly, at the beginning of every session of Parliament, been referred by both Houses to the consideration of a committee, and has been generally canvassed with the utmost freedom when the Minister of the Crown has been obnoxious to the nation." The following passages contained the framework of the offence : — " This week has given the public the most abandoned instance of ministerial effrontery ever at- tempted to be imposed on mankind. The Minister's speech of last Tuesday is not to be paralleled in the annals of this country. I am in doubt whether the imposition is greater on the Sovereign or on the nation. Every friend of his country must lament that a prince of so many great and amiable qualities, whom England truly reveres, can be brought to give the sanction of his sacred name to the most odious measures, and to the most unjustifiable public declarations from a throne ever renowned for truth, honour, and unsullied virtue." The General Warrant ; Committal of Wilkes to the Tower. Upon this measures were taken to arrest the obnoxious pamphleteer, who it was thought had now laid himself open to an indictment ; and the King gave orders that the law officers of the Crown should be desired to give an opinion on the case. They returned a reply in due course, charac- terising the offending No. 45 as a most infamous and seditious libel, " tending to inflame the minds and alienate the affections of the people from His Majesty, and to excite them to traitorous insurrections against the government," and that the offence committed was one punishable in due course of law as a misdemeanour. They were quite clear, evidently, that John Wilkes had '• laid himself open to an indictment." But His Majesty's servants were a little too i hasty in their method of proceeding. "Above I all things, no zeal," was the injunction given I by the astute Talleyrand to a subordinate ; 87 and it would have been well had a similar caution been given to His Majesty's Secre- taries of State in the matter of Wilkes and and his paper. A httle indiscreet zeal involved them in very awkward conse- quences. Lord Halifax hastily issued a general warrant for the apprehension of " the authors, printers, and publishers of a seditious and treasonable paper, entitled the North Briton, No. 45, to search for them and their papers, and bring them before him for ex- amination. Upon this, Kearsley and Balfe, the printer and publisher of the incriminated number, were apprehended by a king's messenger ; and being examined before Lord Halifax and his fellow secretary. Lord Egremont, gave up the name of Mr. Wilkes and Charles Churchill as the authors of th-e North Briton generally. This Churchill was the clergyman, known by his dramatic satire, " The Rosciad," and by political satires, " London," etc., in the style of Juvenal, — a talented, disreputable cleric, who did little honour to his cloth. The manuscript of No. 45 of the North Briton was found among th^ papers of the printer Kearsley ; and Wilkes was apprehended near his house in Great George Street, protesting against the proceedings, claiming his privilege as a Member of Parliament, and yielding only to superior force. Being brought at once before Lord Halifax and Egremont, he assumed a very firm, determined tone ; protested once more against his forcible apprehension, declined to answer any questions whatever ; refused to state whether he was the author of No. 45 or not ; professed the greatest loyalty and attachment to the throne ; but avowed his detestation of the Ministry ; and declared that he would bring the matter before Parliament from his place in the House of Commons on the first day of the coming session ; whereupon he was com- mitted to the Tower. Liberation of Wilkes ; His First Triumph. It is difficult to understand how the Secretaries of State could have seen their way to so strong a measure upon what they had then before them, except on the assump- tion that they wished to please the King, and trusted that His Majesty's influence would bear them harmless in any steps they might take for gratifying his known wishes in this matter. Wilkes is said to have told them plainly that they were doing more than they could justify in arresting him ; and the sequel proved that he was right. The paper they relied on as seditious cei'tainly imputed de- ception to tfce ministers of the King, but could hardly be said to go beyond the legal bounds of criticism, however much it might sin against politeness and urbanity. Various EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. reported speeches of Pitt contain passages quite as strong as, or even stronger than, those for which the writer was here called forcibly to his answer ; for instance, the celebrated answer to the sneer of Horace Walpole, in which, after sarcastically apolo- gizing for "the atrocious crime of being a young man," which he declares he will not attempt either to paUiate or to justify, the orator proceeds to make charges of pro- fligacy and dishonesty against his opponents ; and at a later period, in the House of Lords, was searched for evidence against him ; his desk and drawers were broken open, and his private papers, letters, and memoranda carried away, to furnish proof that he was the author of the libel for which he was in custody. These proceedings naturally ex- cited profound indignation ; and even mode- rate men, who had little liking for the Mem- ber for Aylesbury, were disposed to adopt the words of honest Dogberry, and pronounce the seizure to be " flat burglary as ever was committed." The Tower of London from the Thames. in his celebrated speech against the conduct of the war with America and against the employment of the Red Indians in the struggle, he used language stronger than any expressions that can be found in No. 45, and plainly accused the King's Ministers of dishonesty, declaring that the smooth- ness of flattery cannot avail them in " this rugged and awful crisis," and that the Crown must be instructed in the language of truth. The issuing of the general warrant was a blunder ; but the Secretaries now followed it up by a greater one. The house of Wilkes Meanwhile Wilkes was detained in the Tower ; being kept, as he declared, in solitary confinement during part of the time. He applied to the Court of Common Pleas for a writ of Habeas Corpus, which was ob- tained and served upon the messengers of the Secretary of State ; but he was no longer in their custody, and accordingly they could not produce him before the Court. When on the 6th of May the case was argued before the Court, the prisoner's claim to immunity from arrest, as a Member of Parlia- ment, was at once admitted, and he was set free 88 WILKES AND LIBERTY. Churchill ; Lord Temple's Support of Wilkes ; Successful Actions. There is no doubt that he made the most of the opportunity affoi'ded him by the inju- dicious haste of his enemies, and took full advantage of the position they had given him as the champion of liberty and the hero of the hour. He made a speech, setting forth the somewhat trite proposition, that liberty was the precious birthright of an Englishman. His speech was evidently an oration ad captandum vtilgiis, and as such was a success. The great crowd in the streets around Westminster Hall testified their approval of him " with shouts and clamours." His enemies had foolishly shown a spiteful disposition, and the crowd rejoiced greatly in their discomfiture. The Reverend Mr. Churchill would have been arrested at the same time with Wilkes, but that he consulted his safety by leaving town. His career was a melancholy record of talents misdirected and wasted oppor- tunities. With undoubted genius and an energetic spirit, he was entirely incapable of self-control ; his excesses scandalised ever that free-living age ; and his ill-spent life came to a premature end in a foreign town, when, by his own fault, he became an exile from his country. Lord Temple, the brother-in-law of the great William Pitt and of the Prime Minis- ter, George Grenville, with the latter of whom he was on bad terms, was a restless, busy, and, according to various accounts of him, a mischievous politician. He is de- scribed as having led the great Commoner himself into various indiscretions. An eminent writer compares him to a mole, declaring that where a heap of dirt was found thrown up, it might be taken as a sign that he had been at work under- ground. Whatever may have been his motive, — the desire to annoy Grenville, the idea that the Member for Aylesbury was an ill-used man, the pleasure of thwarting the King, or the mere love of mischief, — certain it is that he openly aided Wilkes at this juncture with his countenance and with his purse ; — the latter kind of help was particularly useful, as the Government spent money freely in the endeavour to procure a triumph for the King. Wilkes brought actions against those who had been engaged in executing the general warrant, and against Lord Halifax for issuing it. He commenced operations by writing to the two Secretaries of State, informing them that his hoicse had beeji 7-obbed while he was a prisoner in the Tower ; and that their Lordships had been designated to him as being in possession of the stolen goods ; the restoration of which he peremptorily demanded. The indig- nation of the King, when these very extraor- dinary and somewhat insolent letters were put before him, may be imagined. They were at once sent, like No. 45 of the North Briton, to the law advisers of the Crown, "by the express command of His Majesty," to ascertain whether they did not contain matter laying the writer open to prosecution and punishment ; and now the King's Ministers seem to have become aware of the fact that " the dog Wilkes," as Johnson called him, was an ugly dog to tackle. The expenses for the defendants in the various actions brought by Wilkes were, by the King's command, defrayed by the Crown, to the extent, as was afterwards elicited from Lord North, of ;!^ioo,ooo ; but the irrepressible plaintiff gained his point, and obtained ^ 1,000 damages from Mr. Wood the sheriff, for the carrying off of his papers. This was at the end of 1763. At a later period, in 1769, a much larger sum, ;^4,ooo, was awarded to him as damages against Lord Halifax. As a Treasury minute had pro- vided " that all expenses incurred, or to be incurred, in consequence of actions brought against the Earl of Halifax, one of His Majesty's principal Secretaries of State, the Under-Secretary, and messengers, and the so- licitor of this office, for proceedings incurred by them in executing the business of their respective offices, against the publishers of several scandalous and seditious libels, should be defrayed by the Crown," the zealous Secretary of State and his subor- dinates were none the worse for the verdicts against them. Personal Animosity of the King ; Pro- secution FOR A Profligate Book. While these proceedings were still pending, the King took away from Wilkes his office of colonel of the Bucks militia, and from Lord Temple the lord-lieutenancy of Buckinghamshire. It was an unhappy trait in the character of George III., that he was accustomed to show personal animosity in this way against many who asserted their independence, or did anything which he could not reconcile with the idea of complete subservience to himself; as, for instance, when he struck the names of Charles James Fox and Richard Brinsley Sheridan off the roll of the Privy Council, because at a meet- ing at the Crowtt and Anchor they had drunk the toast, " Our Sovereign — the Majesty of the People ; " and notably when he wrote to Mr. Grenville concerning that brave, honest soldier General Conway, whose only offence was a conscientious vote in the matter of general warrants, that "he could not trust his army in the hands of a man who voted against him." No wonder that the party known as the " King's friends," knowing 89 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. what was required of them, became notorious for thorough-going sycophancy. Though Wilkes had gained a signal victory in the matter of the general warrants, and Chief Justice Pratt, in discharging him from custody, had boldly declared that upon the maturest consideration he considered such instruments illegal, and that if they were maintained it would be as "a rod for the chastisement of the people," earning great credit with the nation for his noble impar- tiality, the Member for Aylesbury did not come off so well in the House of Commons. There the King and the Ministry were strong enough to command a majority; and by a vote passed on the i6th of November the famous No. 45 was declared to be a scanda- lous and seditious libel, and was ordered to be burnt by the common hangman. The resolution pronounced that the paper contained " expressions of the most unexampled insolence and contumely towards His Majesty the grosse?t aspersions upon both Houses of Parlia- ment, and the most au- dacious defiance of the authority of the v/hole Legislature," with a great deal more to the same effect. It was an in- stance of what a late great novelist, in writing of a criticism on a little book he had published, once happily designated as "thunder and small beer,"— a great deal of sound and fury wasted upon a very insignificant subject. The people showed their apprecia- tion of the whole proceeding by vehemently cheering Wilkes on every opportunity, and making a riot when the hangman attempted to bum the obnoxious number; a mob ga- thered, and amid derisive yells and laughter, committed to the flames a jack boot (a pun- ning symbol on the name of the late Prime Minister) and a petticoat, as indicative of the occult influence of the Princess Dowager of Wales. If the Government had wished to render Wilkes thoroughly popular, no better means could have been adopted. Baffled in one direction, the Government determined to ruin Wilkes in another. The difficulty of finding a printer willing to risk his liberty, and perhaps run the chance of the pillory by reprinting the North Briton, had induced Wilkes to establish a printing press in his own house; and at this press was Admiral Hawke. privately printed a portion of a scurrilous and immoral poem. This work was a parody on Pope's " Essay on Man," and was entitled an " Essay on Woman." It was the kind of production whose wit would have been appreciated by the precious fraternity at Medmenham. The printing was never* com- pleted, much less was the work ever published. But the Ministry, over-eager to demolish the man of the North Briton, here found matter for a fresh accusation. Some of the sheets of the poem were stolen by one Curry, the printer ; and at the instigation of the Ministry, the same individual afterwards abstracted a complete copy, which was deposited in the hands of a Secretary of State, Lord Sandwich. This nobleman was as notorious for profligacy as Sir Francis Dashwood himself, or as Lord March, afterwards Duke of Oueensberry (the notori- o'us "Old O.," who at a great age was pointed at as one of the wickedest old men in London) . This exemplary person took an active part in getting the copy of the poem, which was to form the basis of a new indictment against Wilkes ; for some notes which formed part of the parody were represented as being by Warburton, Bishop of Gloucester, the friend of Pope; and the use of the Bishop's name in this manner was said to be a breach of privilege. Culprit and Accus- ers ; "Jemmy Twit- cher"; a Duel. The whole proceeding was glaringly inconsis- tent. Never had a queerer set of defenders stood up in the cause of morality. Warburton, himself a scurrilous man, had used the name of the illustrious scholar Bentley in an intro- duction and notes to Pope's "Dunciad," in exactly the manner in which his own was used in the "Essay on Woman;" with this notable difference, that while the latter book was kept strictly private, the "Dunciad" had been circulated far and wide. As Lord Macaulay observes, "Pope had given his ribaldry to the world," which cannot be said of Wilkes. But Lord Sandwich read the poem surreptitiously obtained to the House of Lords, who declared its publication to be a breach of privilege, and that Wilkes was the author. Of this latter allegation there was no valid evidence brought forward ; and, indeed, in our own time, Mr. Dilke and Mr. W. 90 WILKES AND LIBERTY F. Rae, the authors of the "Life of Wilkes," have shown that the author was not Wilkes but Mr. Potter, son of the Archbishop of Canterbury. "The evidence," says Mr. Rae, "is overwhelming." Lord North introduced the subject into the House of Commons, and it was soon understood that the King took the strongest personal interest in the proceed- ings, and that every influence would be set to work to reverse by conviction in this second case the defeat the Government had notoriously sustained in the first. What the public thought of the prosecution, and of the sincerity of those by whom it was promoted, was shown by an incident at a London theatre. The " Beggar's Opera," that St. Giles's Lampoon, as Byron called it, was being performed. In one scene, Captain Macheath the highwayman, laid by the heels in Newgate, expresses his astonishment that a fellow robber should have turned against him. " That Jemmy Twitcher should peach, I own sur- prises me," he says. By a kind of sudden inspir- ation the whole audience applied the situation to that of Sandwich and Wilkes ; and the house shook with a tremend- ous roar of laughter from boxes, pit, and gallery. From that day '' Jemmy Twitcher" became the acknowledged nickname of Lord Sandwich. The question had not yet been decided in the House of Commons, when a Mr. Martin, whom Wilkes had treated somewhat roughly in the North Briton, provoked a duel with the proprietor of that publication by publicly denouncing him as a malignant and infamous scoundrel, and one who stabbed in the dark. In the encounter Wilkes was dangerously,it was at first thought fatally, wounded ; and on his partial recovery proceeded to France to complete the cure. To his constituents at Aylesbury he wrote an explanation, in which he seems to state his case fairly enough. After pointing out the distinction between the private opinions which every man is entitled to hold, and the public utterances which might give offence, he proceeds to the pith of the matter. " The fact is," he says, " that after the affair of the North Briton, the Government bribed one of my servants to steal a part of the ' Essay on Woman ' and the other pieces out of my house. Not quite a fourth part of the volume had been printed at my own private press. The work had been discontinued for several General Wolfe, months before I had the least knowledge of the theft. Of that fourth part only twelve copies were worked off, and I never gave one of those copies to any friend. In this in- famous manner did Government get possession of this new subject of accusation ; and, except in the case of Algernon Sidney, of this new species of crime." Expulsion from Parliament; Public Agitation. During his absence. Parliament took up the affair of Wilkes. He was unable to return on account of a relapse, and duly sent medical certificates of the fact ; but the House proceeded to try the question in his absence ; and on the 19th of January, 1764, he was expelled from the Commons, as the author of a scandalous and seditious libel, and a month afterwards was tried and found ... guilty on similar terms I in the Court of King's Bench in his absence, and outlawed for non- appearance. Sentence was deferred, as the prisoner was not pre- sent; but from the known subserviency of Lord Chief Justice Mansfield to the King, Wilkes knew that no mercy would be shown him, and accordingly deter- mined to remain abroad. He undertook a journey into Italy ; and those friends who still re- mained faithful to him in his adversity, among whom may be mentioned two very different men, Lord Temple and Sir Joshua Reynolds, con- sidered he had exercised a very sound discre- tion ; and as his pecuniary affairs were in a bad state, he received substantial assistance from them, without which he would have starved. It seemed that the Court party had completely gained their object. But the public mind had been deeply stirred on the subject of general warrants ; and it was felt that so long as the use of such weapons was allowed, no man's liberty was safe, and that what Pratt had designated as a rod for the chastisement of Englishmen might fall on the shoulders of any one who offended the Court. A member ot the House, Sir William Meredith, moved a resolution that general warrants were illegal, and in spite of the violent opposition of the Court party, found such strong support, that the Ministry, anticipating a defeat, were glad to get the question postponed for four months, to gain time, and even in this they barely 9^ EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. succeeded. Soon after, George Grenville, whom the King never liked, and whose long harangues and prosy lectures were an abomi- nation to him, went out of office, and was succeeded by the Marquis of Rockingham. The Rockingham Administration ; The Middlesex Elections. Under the new administration, the ques- tion of the legality of general warrants was brought forward again, and those instru- ments, and all acts done on the strength of them, were declared invalid. But the Marquis of Rockingham did not remain long in office. The compact phalanx of the King's friends broke up his Ministry, and any hopes Wilkes may have cherished from the change of government failed. Pitt, now Earl of Chatham, came into power, with the Duke of Grafton, who succeeded on the retirement of his chief, who lost his popu- larity from the day when he ceased to be " the great Commoner." The Ministers would now have been glad to get a pardon for Wilkes from the King; but George III, was inexorable, and could not bear to hear the subject named. After vainly petitioning the King, Wilkes astonished and amazed his enemies, on the dissolution of Parliament, by offering himself as a candidate for the City of London, and was welcomed so warmly that it appeared as if he would be returned. Though he did not succeed in this, nearly 1,250 votes were recorded in his favour ; and encouraged by this proof of his continued popularity, he immediately came forward as a candidate for the county of Middlesex. Supported by the influence of the Vicar of Brentford, Parson Home, after- wards widely known as Home Tooke, and backed by the Duke of Portland and Lord Temple, Wilkes was returned by a great majority, polling nearly 1,300 votes, while the next candidate had only 827. The enthusiasm of the public, and the excitement for "Wilkes and Liberty," now reached a higher point than ever. The significance of the election was fully under- stood, and the general rejoicing was quite as much due to the discomfiture of the King as to the triumph of the candidate. The Ministers would have been only too glad to have buried the whole affair of No. 45 and the disgraceful prosecutions in oblivion, and knew that the general attention would be drawn away from Wilkes as soon as he received a pardon. But the King would not listen to reason, and insisted that Wilkes should be expelled from Parliament. He was the more determined on this point, from the fact that the man he pursued with such pertinacity of haired had succeeded in obtaining from Lord Mansfield a reversal of the decree of outlawry. He then sur- rendered to the Court of King's Bench to receive sentence for the libels in the North Briton and the poem ; maintaining with regard to the latter work that it could not properly be held to have ever been published at all. Wilkes a Popular Hero ; Persecution AND ITS Consequences. The sentence certainly did not err on the side of lenity. A fine of j^ 1,000, and im- prisonment of a year and eight months, and security for good behaviour for seven years afterwards, constituted a heavy penalty for the offences of which he had been convicted. The mob of London took his part as before, would have rescued him from cus- tody, and made a riot on the occasion of the meeting of Parliament. The soldiers were called out, fired upon the people, and by mistake bayoneted a man who had taken no part in the disturbance. The King took the opportunity of thanking the soldiers in a general order for their conduct during the riot, and promising them ample protection "in case any disagreeable circumstances should happen in the execution of their duty," — such a disagreeable circumstance, for instance, as the killing of innocent men. It appears that three weeks before that loth of May, on which the military had acted with such fatal efficiency, an official letter had been written by Lord Weymouth, a Secretary of State, to the chairman of the quarter sessions at Lambeth, stating that the soldiers would be in readiness to quell an expected riot, and indicating that he should make use of them. Wilkes procured a copy of this letter some months afterwards, and had it inserted in a London newspaper, with a strong introductory sentence, declaring that the letter showed how long beforehand the " horrid massacre in St. George's Fields had been planned," and " how long a heUish project can be brooded over by some infernal spirits without a moment's remorse." Here was libel No. 3, a manifest strengthening of the hands of the Court party. Summoned to the bar of the House of Commons, the undaunted and indomitable prisoner declared that whenever a Secretary of State should dare to write such a letter, he would dare to write such prefatory remarks, and to appeal to the nation. Thereupon it was moved that he should be expelled the House, and the second expulsion of Wilkes accordingly took place, by a majority of 219 to 137 votes, on February 3rd, 1769. The natural sequel to this proceeding was to declare the election of Wilkes for Middle- sex null and void ; for having been expelled from the House, the Ministry argued that he was "ineligible for being elected a member 92 WILKES AND LIBERTY. to serve in the present Parliament." Here was another question on which the outside public could join issue with the Court, and the temper of the Middlesex electors was shown by the immediate re-election of Wilkes. This election, which was unopposed, was immediately declared null and void ; and now three candidates came forward, — Colonel Luttrell, who was oacked by all the influence of the Government and the Court ; Mr. Sergeant Whittaker ; and Captain Roache. An Important Question; Freedom of Election. The quarrel had now assumed very diffe- rent proportions. It affected the parliament- ary privileges of the whole nation, and it was felt that in his endeavour to crush an oppo- nent he hated the King had struck a blow at the Constitution. Many who had cared very little as to the rights of the case with regard to No. 45 of the North Briton, or whether The Mansion House. But it was impossible to get a majority for Colonel Luttrell, and Mr. Roache polled no votes at all. Wilkes obtained nearly four times as many voices. In the face of all this the House of Commons, with its majority subservient to the King, though it allowed a deputation of Middlesex freeholders to be heard at the bar in support of the election of Wilkes, declared " Henry Lawes Luttrell, Esq., duly elected to serve in the present Parlia- ment for the county of Middlesex." the disreputable poem had been really " pub- lished " or not, looked upon this open attempt to interfere with the constitutional right of electors to choose their representatives as a matter deeply affecting the welfare of the whole state ; and the cry of " Wilkes and Liberty ! " had now an altogether new signifi- cance. With a sagacity that did him honour, the great Lord Chatham protested against the question being argued on the narrow ground of the personal character of an indi- 93 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. vidual. To him it mattered little, lie said, whether those who lauded John Wilkes as a patriot, or those who denounced him as a profligate incendiary, were in the right ; what he contended for was the upholding of the civil rights of Enghsh subjects, which he contended should be measured by no power whatever, "or by any other rule than the fixed laws of the land." At a later period he finely declared that he considered this Mid- dlesex business " the alarm bell of liberty," which he intended to ring incessantly in the ears of the , people. Colonel Luttrell, he contended, with incontrovertible truth, was no representative of the people, but a mere nominee of a faction inimical to the Consti- tution. The whole principle of freedom of election, one of the great stipulations of the Declaration of Rights, was violated in this glaring attempt to thrust upon the electors of Middlesex a man who was not their repre- sentative, not having been chosen by a majority of them. Sir George Savile went farther still, openly declaring from his place in Parliament that the House of Commons, by passing an illegal vote, had betrayed their country, and professing himself ready to stand by his words, and to endure any punish- ment that might be inflicted on him for utter- ing them. Release of Wilkes ; Popular Rejoicings AND Civic Honours. The natural consequence of all this was that the country clamoured for the dissolu- tion of this Parliament, that had proved false to its trust, and wrested law and justice to please the King. The city of London stood forth foremost among the remonstrants against the proceedings of the majority in the House of Commons ; and then it was that Lord Mayor Beckford spoke those words to George III. that were after- wards inscribed upon a monument raised in his honour by the citizens of London, in which he boldly warned the angry monarch that the men who were alienating the affections of his loyal subjects from him by the course they were urging him to take, were not his true friends, but, on the contrary, enemies alike to His Majesty, the Royal Family, and the British Consti- tution. Meanwhile the prisoner in the King's Bench had the great advantage that all this struggle for the maintenance of popular rights and privileges was identified with his name. "Wilkes" and "liberty" were still coupled together, the more firmly as the importance of the issues involved became deeper ; and his popularity increased in proportion to the iniquitous injustice with which, not only he, but every man who voted for him, was treated. Of the public sympathy he received very substantial proofs in the shape of large supplies of money during his imprisonment ; and one sum significantly subscribed by one of the Ameri- can colonies, where discontent was fast gravitating towards rebellion, amounted to no less than ^1,500. The ward of Farring- don-without elected him alderman ; and when his sentence expired in 1770, his fortunes were far more promising than in the days when he had only the rabble to shout for him, — the many-headed monster who might applaud him one week, and hoot him the next. In several towns the houses were illuminated in honour of his release, and his debts were paid by a society calling itself by the significant name of " Supporters of the Bill of Rights." Dr. Johnson's Opinion of "Jack Wilkes." Dr. Johnson, in 1770, wrote a pamphlet, " The False Alarm," vehemently upholding the action of the Ministry in declaring Colonel Luttrell duly elected as member for Middlesex, in spite of the repeated majorities obtained by Wilkes. He maintained that the apprehensions of the country were un- founded. But even Boswell thinks him wrong ; for that arch-admirer says : " That it endeavoured to infuse a narcotic indif- ference as to pubhc concerns into the minds of the people, and that it broke out some- times into an extreme coarseness of con- temptuous abuse, is but too evident." At a later period he considerably modified his opinion concerning Wilkes, as is seen in his letter, in 1780, on the celebrated, "No Popery " note of Lord George Gordon ; for writing of the attack of the rabble on the Bank of England, and the fact that they acted, like other thieves, with no great resolution, the Doctor gives a little gruff praise. He says: "Jack Wilkes headed the party that drove them away. It is agreed that if they had seized the Bank on Tuesday, at the height of the panic, when no resistance had been prepared, they might have carried irrecoverably away whatever they found ; " and then the Doctor becomes slightly sarcastic ; " Jack," he says, " who was always zealous for order and decency, declares that if he be trusted with power, he will not leave a rioter alive." In spite of their former antagonism, Johnson seems to have had, in his great, rough, honest heart, something resembhng a liking for Wilkes, if only for his indomitable energy and his fascinating wit. " Did we not hear so much said of Jack Wilkes," he remarked, "we should think more highly of his conversation. Jack has a great variety of talk. Jack is a scholar, and Jack has the manners of a gentleman. But after hearing his name 94 WILKES AND LIBERTY. sounded from pole to pole, as the phoenix of convivial felicity, we are disappointed in his company. He has always been at me j but I would do Jack a kindness, rather than not. The contest is now over." Wilkes in the Sunshine. From that time the career of Wilkes may be considered a prosperous one. As an alderman he was energetic and efficient, and won the confidence of many who had before been opposed to him. He soon gave proof that the old spirit of opposition was as strong within him as ever by his conduct in the matter of the disputed right to publish a parliamentary report. The House of Com- mons had long shown itself very sensitive with regard to any publication of its proceed- ings out of doors. And indeed, in those days of unblushing bargain and sale, it was sometimes wo- fally inconvenient to mem- bers to have too much known out of doors con- cerning speeches, pledges, and measures. The House, finding that its doings were being reported to the public by the newspapers passed a resolution declar- ing the writing, printing, and publishing of any ac- count of its proceedings a breach of privilege, and threatening to proceed with the utmost severity against all offenders. The newspapers continuing to publish reports, in spite of this threat, the Speaker sent the deputy Sergeant- at arms into the city to execute a warrant issued against a persistent offender, Mr. Miller, of the Evening Post. Mr. Wilkes, acting in conjunction with the Lord Mayor and one of his colleagues, caused the officer himself to be arrested ; and so sturdily main- tained the rights alike of the city and of the newspaper press, that he obtained a victory over the Court for both. And when summoned to appear at the bar of the House to answer for his audacity, he boldly replied that not having been summoned as a member to attend in his place he should disregard the document altogether ; and though the sum- mons was twice repeated, he remained firm to his resolution, and no steps were taken to compel his appearance. From that time the right of reporting the proceedings in parha- ment was assumed as a foregone conclusion, nor was it ever called in question. " As for Wilkes, he is below the notice of the House," Charles James Fox. wrote the King ; but His Majesty deigned to bestow very particular notice on the contest that arose some-time later, when Wilkes, having served the office of sheriff, was put in nomination for the dignity of chief magistrate of the city ; and even exerted his influence to the utmost to prevent the return of his old enemy. At first Wilkes was baffled, and '-A was thought that the Court had scored a victory against him at last ; but the civic Antseus rose up again stronger from each successive fall ; and at length, in 1774, attained the dignity of Lord Mayor of London. " Thus," writes sententious Horace Walpole, "after so much persecution by the Court, after so many attempts on his life, after a long imprison- ment in a gaol, after all his own crimes and indiscretions, did this ex- traordinary man of more extraordinary fortunes at- tain the highest office in so grave and important a city as the capital of Eng- land. Always reviving, the more opposed and op- pressed, and unable to shock Fortune, and make her laugh at him, who laughed at everybody and everything. . . . All the power of the Crown, all the malice of the Scots, all the abilities of Lord Mansfield, all the violence of Alderman Townshend, all the want of policy and parts in the opposition, all the treachery of his own friends, could not demolish him. He equally baffled the King and Parson Home, though both neg- lected no latitude to com- pass his ruin. It is in this tenth year of his war on the Court that he gained so signal a victory." Horace Walpole, though an un- doubted fribble, was a keen and vigilant ob- server ; and this declaration of his comes very near the truth of the matter. A far greater triumph, however, was in store for him, when after being elected for Middlesex for the fifth time he took his seat unopposed in the House from which he had been twice expelled. Never was there a greater instance of the triumph of persever- ance. Even George the Third had become awake to the fact that nothing was to be gained by any further persecution of the indomitable " demagogue," and that it would be far best to leave him to himself. In fact His Majesty had predicted the impending ruin of Wilkes so often, and the prediction had so often failed of accomplishment, 95 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. that he had become somewhat tired of the subject. The epithet "demagogue," indeed, had been so persistently applied to him through- out his career, and, as has been noticed, was repeated long after his death by Macaulay and others, that it was taken for granted he must be a man who thirsted to subvert all existing institutions, and overturn those "landmarks" and "safeguards" of the con- stitution, of which at times we hear so much. But in real fact the reverse seems to have been the case. The struggle with which his name has become inseparably connected arose out of an endeavour not to overturn but to uphold those constitutional principles which were being unscrupulously assailed; and that even grave judges, while they might dislike him personally, could not deny that the course he was taking had the sanction of both law and justice. One of his best traits was certainly his placable temper, and his readiness to forget old grievances. " Stop, you old fool ! That's over long ago ! " was his blunt reproof to an enthusiastic old market woman of Covent Garden, who tried to revive the old cry in his later days. Directly the cause he stood up for was gained, all the acrimony that had been imported into the contest was by him cast away. It should not be forgotten, moreover, by " readers " in the British Museum that he was the first to advocate the establishment of that admirable institution the reading-room. Speaking of the Vatican and of the Paris Library in his place in Parliament, he said : " They are both open at stated times with every proper accommodation, to all strangers. London has no large public library .... I wish, Sir, a sum were allowed by Parlia- ment for the purchase of the most valuable editions of the best authors, and an act passed to oblige every printer, under a certain penalty, to send a copy bound of every publi- cation he made to the British Museum." He died, a prosperous man, in the year 1799. Lheapside in 1750. 96 Place de la Concorde, Paris. THROUGH SLAUGHTER TO A THRONE: THE STORY OF THE COUP D'ETAT OF THE 2ND DECEMBER, 1851. An Important Day — The President's Ride through Paris — A Dehision Dispelled — At the Elysee — Who was responsible for the Coup d' Etat^ — The Strasburg Enterprise — The Boulogne Expedition and its Consequences — Escape from Ham — Residence in London: Return to Paris in 1S48 — Louis Napoleon President — The Oath — "The Nephew of his "Uncle" — Bidding for Popularity — De Morny, Maupas, Persigny, Fleury, St. Arnaud — Preparations for Striking the Blow ; the Army — The Proclamation of December 2nQ — Seizure of Political Chiefs — The Army in Paris — Forcible Closing of the Assembly — Arrest of Members — Closing of the High Court of Justice — The Assembly Carried Away Captive — State of Paris ; Discouragement ; Committee of Resistance — Failure of the Struggle— Proceedings of the Government — The Cavalry Charge — The Massacre on the Boulevards — Details — Slaughter of Non-Combatants — Success of the CouJ> d'Eiai — Plebiscite — Testimony of an Impartial Witness — Public Feeling in England. An Important Day. HE 2nd of December is as memorable a date in the history of P>ance, as the 14th of October, which witnessed, at an interval of more than half a century, the disasters of Hochkirchen and Jena, is fateful in the annals of the Prussian monarchy. It was on a 2nd of December that the great Napoleon was crowned in the cathedral of Notre Dame by Pope Pius VII. as Emperor of the French; it was on a 2nd of December that he shattered the power of Austria, and crippled Prussia, by the tremendous victory he gained at Austerlitz. It was on the 2nd of December, again, that the first act of the drama was played out, which led to the establishment of that second French Empire, destined to expire in a sea of blood, after running its fever- ish and fitful course ; one of those memorable series of events in which the superficial ob- server sees only the fortune of war, while the 97 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tlioughtful student claims to recognise the truth, that no more in modern times than at earlier epochs of the world's history can men gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles ; and that while "things bad begun make strong themselves by ill," the day of retribu- tion will surely come upon the evil-doer, that, as the homely old German proverb has it, — "Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all." On that 2nd of December, 1851, there sat in an inner chamber of the palace of the Elysee at Paris a man who knew that he was at the very crisis of his fate, as surely as any criminal who sits in the dock waiting until the twelve men shall reappear who are to pronounce the " guilty " or " not guilty " that will restore him to liberty or consign him to the scaffold. It was the third time in a life of little more than forty years that Louis Napoleon Bona- parte, then President of the French Republic, had conspired to overthrow the government of his country. Good fortune, the associa- tions connected in every Frenchman's mind with the great name he bore, and an almost inexplicable lenity on the part of the autho- rities whose captive he became, had enabled him to escape almost unpunished on the first occasion, and had spared his life on the second ; but this time the game was evidently one of life or death. In case of failure the conspirator and his accomplices would have to reckon not with an offended government but with an outraged and exasperated nation; and therefore it was above all things necessary to screw the courage to the sticking point " that this day the enterprise might thrive." The President's Ride through Paris Streets. For a blow had just been struck at the liberties of France, and the nation had been insulted in the persons of its representatives, in a way no king since the days of Louis XIV. would have ventured upon. What this blow was, ho\v it was struck, and how it was followed up, we shall have presently to relate. In the course of the day the President had ridden abroad through the streets of Paris, attended by a numerous staff, and accompanied by his uncle, Prince Jerome Bonaparte, the only survivor of the three puppet kings set up, in the insolence of ambition, by the Great Napoleon, on three European thrones. Old Jerome, ex-King of Westphalia, though he gave his nephew the countenance of his presence on that memo- rable ride through streets lined with troops, behind whom peered forth faces scowling with angry surprise, gravely disapproved of the course the President was taking ; and. indeed, two days later, he wrote him a manly letter, reminding him that there was no guar- antee for liberty if an assembly did not con- tribute to the constitution of the republic, — that the army was acting in a high-handed manner, — and that what a government could not do when it was beaten, it was bound to do when it was victorious ; conjuring him, in conclusion, in the name of the great founder of their house, and by their common horror of civil war, to listen to the experience of an aged inan, and to remember that France, Europe, and posterity would pass their judg- ment upon the President's actions, A Delusion Dispelled ; The President AT the Elysee, The ride through the Paris streets must have dispelled one delusion, at least, which Louis Napoleon Bonaparte was supposed to entertain. It furnished abundant proof that there was no enthusiasm for the Presi- dent among the Parisians, and that they were disposed to look upon him with a kind of contemptuous surprise ; that they were not at all anxious to accept him as the repre- sentativeand successor of the Great Napoleon, or to hail him as Emperor. For the third time he had presented himself for their suffrages in that character, and for the third time he had encountered looks of scorn, disdain, or at best indifference. The theatri- cal scene of the progress of a hero through his capital had been attempted, and had fallen wofuUy flat. The expected acclama- tions had been conspicuously absent ; and so it was that the chief actor in the farce so soon to be turned into a tragedy rode home and ensconced himself gloomily in the apart- ments of his official residence, while the blood of thousands was soon poured out like water in the streets of Paris, and a gallant nation's liberty was trampled beneath the heels of a ruthless soldiery, Mr, Kinglake, in his masterly "History of the War in the Crimea," describes him as returning from this ride, and " going in out of sight," " Thenceforth," he says, " for the most part he remained close shut up in the Elysee. There, in an inner room, still decked in red trousers, but with his back to the daylight, they say he sat bent over a fireplace for hours and hours together, resting his elbows on his knees, and burying his face in his hands." Victor Hugo, himself an eye-witness and an actor in the scenes which followed, says : " Louis Bonaparte had not quitted the Elysee. He remained in a cabi- net on the groundfloor, next to that splendid gilded saloon in which, in 181 5, he had been present, as a child, at the second abdication of Napoleon, He was there alone ; the order had been given to admit no one to his presence. From time to time the door was partly opened, and the grey head of his aide- Q ifetat, who complacently adds that " a good number of them remained on the field ; it was the affair of an instant." This affair of an instant was the follow- ing: — When the first regiment of Lancers, under the command of Colonel Rochefort, came on the scene, a number of the inhabi- tants of the quarter,— -merchants, artists, journalists, men and women, some of the latter leading young children by the hand, — covered the asphalte of the Boulevard. As the regiment went by, cries were raised of " Vive la Constitution / Vive la loi / Vive la Repnblique J " and at this entirely legal cry from the crowd — the narrator tells us, and he is confirmed by Captain Mauduit — the Colonel rode into the middle of the group, across the chairs placed on the pave- ment ; the lancers followed him, and men, women, and children were sabred indis- criminately. Such was Captain Mauduit's " affair of an instant," — a sinister token of the greater calamity that was immediately to happen. The Massacre on thk Boulevards. Near the Gymnase the.itre a little barri- cade, formed chiefly of planks and scenery taken from the theatre, and occupied by some twenty men, had been erected. The head of the column of troops was turned towards this little barricade. The vast mass of troops stretched away westward along the Boulevard to the Madeleine ; and on the southern pavement a great crowd had assembled, a very ordinary crowd of men, women, and children, looking at the military spectacle, and many of them no doubt won- dering what so imposing a display of forces could mean ; for though a few languid shots were exchanged with the barricade at the Gymnase, all along the western line there was no sign of an enemy against whom the troops could have to contend. Accordingly not only was the Boulevard itself covered with spectators, but all the windows of the houses were crowded with heads, looking down at the strange spectacle. Suddenly, at a little after three o'clock, a shot was fiyed near the corner of the Rue du Sentier. Some witnesses declare it came from a soldier, who fired straight up into the 109 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. air, aivd that it was a signal ; others affirm that it was a pistol shot from one of the houses. Be this as it may, so much is certain, that at the firing of this shot the whole line of soldiers along the entire length of the Boulevard faced towards the south, — infantry, cavalry, and artillery, — and com- menced firing furiously upon the unarmed crowd who thronged the pavement; "and i 4th of December stands alone, even in the history of Parisian revolutions. A horrible fury of drunkenness and slaugh- ter seemed to have taken possession of the soldiers. They fired and loaded and fired again on the crowd that fled in wild terror ; they pointed their guns at the windows, and fired into the houses killing numbers within the rooms, — people who had never even gone C\I DU \L OB JNOII C JJ^ n, i:* VI IS thus," says a contemporary account, " sud- denly, without a motive, without sitmnioHs, as the atrocious placards of the morning had announced, from the Gymnase to the Chinese baths, along the whole length of the richest, and liveliest, and most joyous boulevard of Paris, a butchery began.'' In its utter want of cause, its fierce brutality, and its prolonga- tion, where not a shadow of resistance was to be overcome, this Boulevard massacre of the out from their homes ; as is attested by the evidence of an English officer who, with his wife, narrowly escaped death in this manner. Among the heaps of dead were found young- men with cigars in their mouths and light walking canes in their hands, ladies in velvet dresses, clerks carrying business letters, checiues, and bills. A passer-by, who rushed with about fifty others into a wineshop for refuge when the firing first began, states THROUGH SLAUGHTER TO A THRONE. some particulars concerning his companions in misfortune, which will give an idea of the kind of crowd upon which the troops con- tinued to pour a hail of bullets for half an hour, until the last wretch who failed to gain a harbour of refuge had ceased to move or groan. There were v^^omen among the horri- fied group in the wineshop, two of whom had just been purchasing provisions for their dinner ; a little clerk despatched on an errand by his master ; some speculators from the Exchange and other men of business ; some workmen, hardly any of them in their working blouses. One of those poor fellows was almost mad with grief; he had been returning with his wife to dine with his family at the Faubourg Montmartre, when at the first discharge both he and his wife fell. The husband contrived to pick himself up, and was dragged by pitying hands into the wineshop ; but the poor wife was killed. The despair of the husband was terrible, and he could hardly be withheld from rushing out into the hail of bullets in the street in search of her. He was afterwards arrested and transported to Cayenne for uttering threats against the President. Details of the Massacre ; Slaughter of non-combatants. Various witnesses have given particulars as to the extent and duration of the massacre. The testimony of all of them coincides in certain particulars, namely, as to the entirely unexpected nature of the attack, the long extent of the line of boulevards on which it was effected, and its completely indiscri- minate nature. " Words cannot give an adequate idea of such an act of barbarism," says an eye-witness ; and he goes on to tell how he saw shots fired "by thousands" on inoffensive people, without the slightest necessity. Another describes the doubtful shot as having been fired in the air, as might be seen by the smoke rising perpen- dicularly ; whereupon, as on a given signal, the firing and the bayonet charges on the people commenced. One man, who took refuge in a gateway in the Rue Taitbout, and who saw a woman shot dead within ten paces of him, declares emphatically that there were neither insurgents nor barricades to be seen, — nothing, he says, but " hunters and flying game." Another witness uses almost the same term, declaring that the soldiers lay in wait for passing citizens at the corners of the streets, like sportsmen stalking game, and fired at the wounded who raised themselves on their hands and knees and attempted to crawl away. The soldiers fired down gratings into the cellars where the inhabitants of many houses had taken refuge. Until nightfall the cannonade and the fire of musketry continued. Some houses, like the Sallandronze warehouse, were completely gutted. The men could no longer be restrained by their officers, who, in some instances, sought in vain to mode- rate their rage ; they seemed drunk with fury and cruelty. Some of them made bets with their comrades that they would hit a certain man or woman flying across an open place. A roar of laughter arose each time one of these horrible wagers was won. One woman was found dead with a loaf of bread under her arm. A printer's boy dragged himself into an entry to die, with the proof- sheet he was carrying still grasped in his hand. A poor streetseller of lemonade, with his tin fountain on his back ; an errand boy of thirteen deliberately put up and shot, in spite of his childish appeal for mercy ; an old white-haired man, with an umbrella in his hand, were among the " enemies " shot down by the soldiery. The lesson given to them had borne good fruit, — they were quite ready to revenge the insults of 1830 and 1848; and, among other achievements, signalised themselves by entering a dozen houses of the " Bedouins," under pretext that that there had been shots fired from the windows, and bayoneting every one of the inmates. The soldiers killed for the sake of killing. One who saw the dead removed for burial, declared that they lay in heaps — men, women, and children ; blouses and broad-cloth mixed in indescribable confusion ; heads, arms, and legs all mingled together. The streets were literally running with blood ; and each of the young trees, round which hollows had been dug to retain the water, stood in a gory pool. That night the troops bivouacked on the Boulevards, by the light of huge watch fires. There is good evidence, also, that distributions of money, generally at the rate of ten francs per man, were made to the troops in acknow- ledgment of their exertions. '"' The officers were breaking open rouleaux of Louis like sticks of chocolate," says an eye-witness. There were drinking and carousing and singing of songs among the bivouacs, — while mournful women were searching with lanterns among the heaps of corpses for lost husbands, brothers, and sons. The Success of the Coup d'etat ; The Plebiscite. With the massacre, the success of the coup d'etat was secured. Paris was petrified with horror at first ; then the feeling seemed that of a frightened child, mingled with a strange puerile curiosity. The city was full of bearers carrying away corpses from the hospitals and the places to which they had been taken when the blood-stained streets were cleared of the heaps of dead ; and yet the people were out again, looking with greedy curiosity EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. at the traces of the carnage, — standing in gaping groups in front of houses shattered by cannon balls, — putting their fingers in the pools of blood, — pointing out to each other the traces which showed where wounded wretches had dragged themselves along the pavement in search of some corner where they might sink down and die in peace. The committee of defence made some spasmodic efforts on the morning of the 5th to keep up the resist- ance, but it was useless ; a barricade or two was still defended for a time by a few indo- mitable workmen ; but Paris would not rise, — it was cowed by the atrocities that had been committed. The men of the Elysee had their way ; and Louis Napoleon could make his preparations at leisure for the farce called a '''"plebiscite" which was to raise him permanently to the supreme power by " the will of the French nation," — a nation to whose provinces De Morny had sent despatches announcing that the National Assembly had been dissolved amid general division, — before the policemen commissioned to ai-rest the members had fulfilled their sorry task. Testimony of an Impartial Witness ; Public Feeling in England. A gentleman, who has since won for him- self an eminent position in literature, Mr. George Augustus Sala, then a young man, happened to ai'rive in Paris just at the time when the coii-p detat was in full operation. He came upon it quite unexpectedly, and gave a powerful and graphic account of what he saw and heard in Charles Dickens's Household Words, under the expressive heading, " Liberty, Eonality, Fraternity, and Musketry." His account was written, it must be remembered, while the impression produced by these scenes was still fresh in his memory, for the occurrences described were not a fortnight old. He walked through Paris on the day after the massacre, and this is what he says about it : — " With the merits or de- merits of the struggle I have nothing to do. But I saw the horrible brutality and ferocity of this ruthless soldiery. I saw them burst- ing into shops to search for arms or fugitives, dragging the inmates forth like sheep from a slaughter-house, smashing the furniture and windows. I saw them, when making a passage for a convoy of prisoners, or a waggonful of wounded, strike wantonly at the bystanders with the butt ends of their muskets, and thrust at them with their bayonets. ... So much for what I saw. I know, as far as a man can know from trust- worthy persons, from eye-witnesses, from patent and notorious report, that the military, who are now the sole and supreme masters of that unhappy city and country, have been perpetrating most frightful barbarities since the riots were over. I know that from the Thursday I arrived to the Thursday I left Paris they were daily shooting their prisoners in cold blood. ... I know that in the Champ de Mars one hundred and fifty-six men were executed ; and I heard one horrible story (so horrible that I can scarcely credit it) that a batch of prisoners were tied together with ropes, like a faggot of wood, and that the struggling mass was fired into until not a limb moved nor a groan was uttered. I know — and my informant was a clerk in the office of the Ministry of War — that the official return of insurgents killed was two thonsmid and seven, and of soldiers fifteen. Rather long odds !" In England the news of these things created a profound sensation ; the feeling was everywhere one of indignation and horror, and the English newspapers spoke out in such frank fashion that they were promptly prohibited in France. The Queen wrote immediately to the Prime Mmister, Lord John Russell, to desire that nothing might be said by the Government that could by any means be made to assume an appearance of approval of the coup d'etat ; and Lord Palmerston, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who had indiscreetly used some phrases that were interpreted by the French ambassador. Count Walewski, as expressions of concur- rence in the course adopted by the President, and by him reported to the French Minister, M. Turgot, was dismissed from his post. At a later period England acknowledged in the Emperor of the French a faithful and friendly ally; but the means by Avhich he attained to power were never forgotten, and especially came back to remembrance after that fatal day of Sedan, where, amid a scene of slaughter, he lost the throne to which he had mounted by bloodshed and wrong, H. W, D. The Birthplace of John Wesley. METHODISM. THE STORY OF A GREAT REVIVAL. ■Great Movements and Reaction^England under George II. — Pioneers of the Revival — The Holy Club at Oxford — George Whitefield's Early Days — Whitefield becomes a Preacher — Whitefield in London — The Countess of Huntingdon — The Wesleys — The Wesleys become Itinerants — Spread of Methodism, Lay Preachers, Provincial lilobs — Illustrious Allies — Ireland, Scotland, Wales — Methodist Denominations^General Results — Conclusion. Great Movements and Reaction. |T is giving expression to a truism to say, that many of those popular movements which have redounded in blessing to mankind, have come as reactions against what could no longer be passively endured ; the tide having marked its lowest ebb would not remain stationary, but rather began to return towards those high-water marks which had been frequently touched in other days. This was so at the dawn of the Reformation ; the cup of papal iniquity was full ; and having in the printing- press an engine of new power to work with, one true man, as it were, had it in his power literally to chase a thousand enemies of the right, and so to set in motion the inevitable reaction against priestcraft and tyranny. It was so at the Revolution of 1688 ; the dreary and forbidding political outlook was at once the darkest hour of night and the hour before the dawn. By a beneficent law, evils are thus made to bring their own correctives, while in the end the re- presentatives of wrong and of oppression, against their personal will and design, de- feat their ov.'n purposes. There is, of course, considerable danger incurred when the leaders in a national movement are themselves too low down in the mire, or are too blinded by class prejudices, to see clearly in what the cure for grievances consists, and thus to realize what a suffering people really require for their elevation. Thfe risks and penalties referred to were painfully exemplified during the course of that French Revolution which alarmed and threatened Europe in the very days when our own more favoured country was beginning to taste of the grateful fruits resulting from the seed-sowing of the Metho- dist pioneers. France passed through an ordeal of blood and fire such as might have fallen to the lot of England, had not a determined band of religious and moral reformers been raised up to draw into the fold of the Church those classes of the people who were becoming dangerous to the State, in proportion to their ignorance and lawless- ness in daily life. England under George II. The triumph of the Protestant Succession was really ensured in 1688, as the outcome of the Revolution ; but nevertheless the enemies of Popery manifested joy both unfeigned and deep, when, about a quarter of 13 I EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. a century later, the heir of the House of Brunswick quietly took possession of the crown. The friends of order and of true reli- gion regarded this transition as one of those bloodless revolutions which reveal the hand of God in history, and no right-minded person will be prepared to challenge their conclusion. It is true that the roseal pro- mises of better days which had seemed to tinge the horizon of the Revolution had not been fulfilled ; but there was at least an augury of good in the bare fact that the machinations of the enemy were defeated. Though neither George I. nor his successor was a pattern of Christian propriety, they were both repre- sentatives of those principles of civil and religious liberty which were dear to the English people, and beneath the ascendency of which true progress can alone be made. Still, as years passed by, it was found that the mere profession of Protestanism and nothing else was not more promising than trusting for fruit to a sapless and dead tree. The Reformation, hailed in England as a mighty deliverance, soon struck its roots deep in the national affection, and the history of the early and later Puritans is in itself the history of a great revival following close upon the receding darkness of Popery. When, however, the Puritans passed away, they left no successors ; and the earlier years of the eighteenth century were a time of religious deadness, of moral and political corruption such as could not easily be paralleled in the annals of our country. In the fourth decade of the century, under George II., progress was indeed made, but it was a progress from bad to worse ; the reaping was not worthy of the seed-sowing. In the palace, during two reigns, there had been domestic strife, the King and heir- apparent presenting a sorry example to the people by quarrelling with one another ; and while politicians, from the chief minister downwards, were commonly unscrupulous as regarded the means they used for accomplish- ing their purposes, the upper classes lived for themselves alone, indulging in sports as everyday pastimes which were less civilized than characteristic of the times. With the main roads too badly kept to admit of travel- ling with pleasure or even with safety, few persons knew much about the country beyond their own immediate locality ; but while those who ventured on a journey risked inconve- niences arising from accident and highway- men, those who remained behind lived in dread of the foot-pads and burglars- who swrirmed in the towns. Left to themselves, without day or Sunday schools, and without any effort being made by pastor or mission- ary to ameliorate their sadly degraded lot, the common people were then, in a sense we can hardly understand, the dangerous classes. Drinking and debauchery had risen to such a height in 1 736, that the Justices of Middle- sex petitioned Parliament to exercise its authority in checking the evil. In and about London there were 20,000 gin-shops, and day after day the newspapers recorded the fate of persons who had died suddenly from'' over-drinking. Parliament passed a repres- sive measure, but the disease lay too deep for surface treatment ; and thus the mob hooted their defiance at Government in the streets, subjected informers to a mud-bath in the gutters, and drank gin, as before, under fancy names. Then systematic smuggling was not only largely carried on, but was condoned by the public ; and the fate of Porteous, at Edinburgh, was not only a specimen of popular lynching, it was an example of how an organized lawless mob could revenge itself on the Legislature. Daily becoming more estranged from mora- lity and religion, the common people showed in other pastimes than drinking the down- ward tendency of human nature when parted from the influence of the Gospel. Savage sports, such as would have found favour in a heathen amphitheatre, were chiefly in re- quest, — pugilistic combats, dog- and cock- fights, bull-baiting and rat-worrying ; while on secluded and dangerous parts of the coast demon-like wreckers allured ships to de- struction for the sake of booty. The children of the poor, both in town and country, were born to a heritage of humiliation ; even the commonplace things of civilization, now the birthright of all who exemplify soberness and industry, were beyond their reach. The picture drawn by Raikes, about a genera- tion later, of the noise and ribaldry with which the children of Gloucester filled the streets of that town during the Sunday hours, was no exaggeration. Gloucester was a very typical case ; what occurred there was similar to what happened in every town throughout England in the reign of George II. The churches and chapels were as ill-attended as the prisons were crowded ; and on all hands there were longings for deliverance from the dominion of sin. The literature of any period is undoubtedly a mirror which correctly reflects the people's moral and religious life. The early part of the eighteenth century was something more than the Augustan age of English letters ; it represents the opening of a new epoch, when newspapers and periodicals began to exercise that influence on the popular mind which has now grown into one of the most potent forces of our modern civilization. When, however, we come to look into the moral character of the writings chiefly in vogue, we find little reason for satisfaction. We retain admiration for the galaxy of brilliant stars such a'sAddison and Steele, Goldsmith, 114 METHODISM. and Johnson, who sought to wean people from the sensual and degrading ; but these were hardly able to counteract the corrupt influence of Dryden and Congreve among poets, of Swift and Sterne in the Church, nor of the infidels Shaftesbury, Hobbs, and Bolingbroke, Gibbon and Hume, among philosophers and historians living and dead, whose books were widely circulated. The reaction against Puritanism was complete ; the era was one of moral and religious dead- ness without parallel since the Reformation. Pioneers of the Revival. Dark as the general outlook was, however, the picture had its light as well as shade, and here and there, scattered widely apart over the country, there were found hard-working, conscientious pastors, who lived faithful to their trust amid the general declension. Goldsmith, in the course of his many wanderings and romantic adventures, must have encountered a few such, or even his inventive genius would hardly have supplied materials for the charming portrayal of Dr. Primrose in " The Vicar of Wakefield." To pass from fiction to fact, we have in a private letter of 1754, a picture of a Lancashire clergyman at home, which will in some measure help us to understand the times. " I found him sitting at the head of a long square table," remarks the anonymous correspondent, "such as is commonly used in this country by the lower class of people, dressed in a coarse blue firock trimmed with coarse horn buttons ; a checked shirt, a leathern strap about his neck for a stock, a coarse apron, and a thick pair of great heavy wooden-soled shoes, plated with iron to preserve them, with a child upon his knee eating his breakfast." In regard to himself this good man confessed that he was situated greatly to his satisfaction, while his people not only lived in "happy ignorance of the vices and follies of the age," but were, as he believed and hoped, really sincere Christians. Among the names of those who were more widely known appear Watts and Doddridge, both of whom, after some exercise of caution, — they were entertaining a pet scheme of comprehension, — became steadfast friends of the Revival. The best hymns of both these worthies are still as greatly prized as ever; and although the first was incapacitated by constitutional weakness from becoming a travelling propagandist, the other turned his college at Northampton into a centre of evangelical influence. In one of his letters to the Bishop of London, Doddridge intimates that nearly aU the villages around North- ampton had some building licensed for religious services ; and the Doctors method was not only to preach himself when oppor- tunities offered, but to furnish students and others with sermons, which were preached far and wide over the county. Then besides these there was the godly rector of Epworth himself, who was a blessing to his own im- mediate district. In a more humble way there were some few who imitated this procedure throughout the kingdom ; they belonged to all ranks of life, so that the clear shining of the light, sometimes found in hall or cottage, seemed to be the more grateful on account of its rarity. There were also in the country at this time a large number of Huguenots, the families of those who had fled from France to escape the discipline of Louis the Fourteenth's dragoons, and these were a gain in more senses than one. Then, as a compact body zealous in the Gospel cause, the Society of Friends was perhaps then even stronger in England than at present. Facts like these should not be overlooked ; for they are not only a silver lining to the sombre shade of the preceding section, they show that the active leaders of the Methodist Revival had, in spite of the forbidding general outlook, something more than a foundation of sand to build upon when they inaugurated their great movement. The Holy Club at Oxford. The general condition of society at the two great universities when George II. succeeded to the throne very naturally partook of the character of the age. Each college was a rendezvous for young men of various social ; grades and aspirations, some students being ' as poor as Johnson and Whitefield, while ' others, as the scions of noble houses, were more desirous of the prestige which a name for learning would give than of any solid advantages arising from knowledge itself. Numbers, it is to be feared, knew much more about gaming and loose practices than of science, theology, or Christian morality, and were more thoroughly versed in the specious wit of Voltaire and Bolingbroke than in the inspired aphorisms of David and St. Paul. A virtuous, plodding youth, amid such sur- roundings was at once shunned and perse- cuted as a speckled bird ; for with the ma- jority the maintenance of wine-parties at night, and a constantly diversified round of sports by day, was a far more serious life business than reading for examinations. To a few observant people the spectacle was sad, if not actually alarming ; for it seemed as if religion had failed even in her most favoured seats. Others were content to look on with more equanimity ; for though the universities were not schools of morality and religion, they were what they had been and would continue to be, so that young men must go through the ordeal others had passed through before them, and take their chance. To such, "5 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the Church of England was a good old insti- tution, worthy of respect and'even affection ; but they very effectively wedded her to the world by preaching against the indiscretion of being righteous overmuch. In such an age it was hardly to be expected that the reaction against the prevailing god- lessness and indifference would set in at Oxford ; but so it came to pass : in a quietly unobtrusive manner the great university became the cradle of the new Reformation. "In November 1729," says John Wesley, " four young gentlemen of Oxford, — Mr. John Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College ; Mr. Charles Wesley, Student of Christchurch ; Mr. Morgan, Commoner of Christchurch ; and Mr. Kirkham, of Merton College, — beean men of extraordinary parts ; but they have the misfortune to be taken by all who have ever been in their company for madmen and fools." Such language found its echo in the popular sentiment, although there were not wanting more impartial champions to take the other side. The authorities themselves were wisely tolerant of the new religious order which had arisen,— a fact the more remarkable and commendable since about forty years later, half-a-dozen students of Edmund-hall, in Oxford, were expelled '•' for holding Methodistical tenets, and taking upon them to pray, read, and expound the Scriptures, and sing hymns in a private house." The truth is that the members of this so- called Holy Club were simply a coterie of y:!i • The Holy Club. to spend some evenings in a week together in reading, chiefly the Greek Testament." This little company was augmented from time to time by other sympathetic souls ; and soon not only luxurious Oxford, but the whole of the judicious world outside, which prided itself in maintaining a seemly religious moderation, professed to be scandalized by a new departure from the old moorings. The -school of supposed fanatics were called Bible- moths, or the Holy Club, and by others, on account of their regular habits, Methodists. The innovation in a place like Oxford was so unique and surprising, that people far and near asked who and what the enthusiasts were; and the reply which came from one influential London newspaper was that, " Among their own party they pass for religious persons and 116 earnest young men who resolved to turn aside from the folly and dissipation of the age, while they strictly adhered to the discipline of the Established Church. An hour in the morning, and another hour on retiring for the night, they gave to private prayer ; they took the communion weekly at Christchurch ; they strove after every Christian grace ; fasted on Wednesdays and Fridays; and missed no opportunities of attending prayers and ser- mons. It was easy to call them enthusiasts, — and at the outset there probably was a mixture of Pharisaism in their profession, — but it was harder to gainsay their extra- ordinary self-denial in pursuing daily rounds of charity, such as more easy-going Christians had neglected. In those days the prisons of England were so notoriously bad, that per- METHODISM. sons whose nerves were equal to witnessing revolting scenes were not exempt from risk of fever when they invaded the precincts of a common prison ; but fears likely to deter weaker people weighed lighter than feathers with the members of the Holy Club. On a certain day during the summer of 1730, William Morgan called at the castle to see a malefactor who was to be hanged for killing his wife, when, to quote John Wesley's words, " from the talk he had with one of the debtors, he verily believed it would do much good if any one would be at the pains of now and then speaking with them." Cordially falling in with this new idea, John and Charles Wesley next turned attention to the prisoners, whether poor debtors or criminals; and once fanned, the flame of their charity soon extended to other classes. While the com- mon beggars encountered in daily walks were not overlooked, they began to teach the children of indigent cottagers, and even extended their solicitude to paupers in the workhouse. The names of some who early joined this singular fraternity are now forgotten, but one or two besides the brothers Wesley and George Whitefield are still remembered. Robert Kirkham was attracted from a life of jollity, and it is said that his fair and gifted sister Betsy was nearly becoming the wife of the founder of Methodism. Charles Morgan relinquished libertine ways to join the club ; and his unfortunate brother William, who lost his reason, was falsely pointed at as a victim of enthusiasm. John Clayton, who till the last remained a strict and formal Churchman, was complicated in the rising on behalf of the Stuarts in 1745. Benjamin Ingham ultimately joined the Moravians, and married Lady Margaret, sister-in-law of the Countess of Huntingdon. John Gambold also joined the Moravians, thus becoming associated with the erratic Zinzendorf. Better known than any of these was James Hervey, who after leaving Oxford and getting clear of the Pharisaic notions he had imbibed at the University, served for three years as curate at Bideford, thence removing to Weston Flavel to serve in the church under his father, whom he finally succeeded. Though his soul was lodged in one of the most fragile of bodies, Hervey was next to the Wesleys the most popular author of the Revival ; and even as a preacher in his two Northamptonshire parishes he did very effective service ; he was regarded as a clear- shining star in the surrounding darkness, and his flock looked up to him with reverent affection. At this time of day his laboured grandiloquent style is not what would take hold of the educated classes ; but for more than one generation his " Meditations " and kindred works were among the best read religious books in England. In private life he was among the most amiable of men, and notwithstanding the physical weakness \Vhich afflicted him, one of the most hard-working of pastors of that dead age in which his lot was cast. There can be no doubt that the influence of his pen in the great cause of Methodism was as extensive as it was bene- ficent. One of the most singular of his private letters was one he addressed to the once famous master of the ceremonies who reigned at Bath with sovereign sway over the fashion- able world. Alluding to a case of too late repentance which had come beneath his own notice, Hervey proceeded to draw a comparison. " I remembered you, sir," wrote the curate in that pointed style of which he was a master ; " for I discerned too near an agreement and correspondence between the deceased and yourself. ' They are alike,' said I, * in their ways, and what shall hinder them from being alike in their end ? ' " What may have been the influence of this warning on a hardened gamester and man of the world like Beau Nash cannot be told ; but the autocrat of fashion paid the writer the high compliment of never during life parting with the letter. Such were the members of the Holy Club, some of whom never renounced the strait- laced sacerdotalism of early days, while others advanced to the very front rank among English teachers and reformers of the people. Many old enemies, as time went on, modified or abandoned deep-rooted prejudices. Even Dr. Johnson, who was reared in a Jacobitical home, acknowledged that the Methodists had done some good; they had spread religious im- pressions among the vulgar part of mankind." In his last days the distinguished lexicogra- pher, by accepting the truth as preached by Whitefield, became a Methodist himself;, and that gratifying fact is perhaps the best commentary on the above gracious conces- sion, George Whitefield's Early Days. As the first of those innovators who adopted the practice of open-air preaching, Whitefield occupies the most conspicuous position in the van of the Methodist Revival. Several years the junior of the brothers Wesley, he like them belonged to a clerical family, although at the time of his birth George's parents were the humble proprietors of the Bell Inn at Gloucester. Losing his father in infancy, he grew up to assist one of the best of mothers in the public-house, and according to his own account, Whitefield's early days were marked by quite the average amount of sinful folly. It may be that, as has frequently occurred in many similar instances, the shady part of the picture is overcoloured, for he was only seventeen when he entered Pembroke College 117 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. as a servitor, and he appears to have speedily joined the brotherhood known as the Holy Club, meanwhile outstripping all the other members in the vigorous strictness with which he observed the rules. As a boy in his mother's bar, Whitefield had borne him- self very much as other boys would have done in that situation ; he could laugh and joke, he was as fond of outdoor sports as he was of reading plays, and occasionally ap- propriated to his own use cash from the common till. Now all was changed ; White- field was a humble penitent, who in any passing difficulty sought counsel of John or Charles Wesley ; and. what with nocturnal vigils and prolonged fastings at holy seasons, he reduced his constitution until, at one time, he was so starved that he appeared to be on the verge of the grave. When in 1735, before he came of age, Whitefield attained to clearer views of Scriptural truth, all this Pharisaic self-righteous method of securing salva- tion was relinquished for ever. Three years later his friends and preceptors, the brothers Wesley, attained to similar liberty ; and all three were destined to take an apostolic part in the coming Methodist Revival. They Jiecessarily ceased to be legalists, endeavour- ing to save themselves, before they could render any service by instructing the ignorant crowds around them. From a very early age Whitefield was impressed with the idea that he would one •day preach sermons, and that he would do so in a more artistic method than " Old Cole," a Nonconformist worthy then labour- ing in Gloucester, who was not remarkable for any exceptional oratorical or literary powers. When the subject had been men- tioned to Mrs. Whitefield, the widow usually repelled the idea as presumptuous ; but both quickly and surely the path of duty was now opening. After leaving the University at the still early age of twenty-one, he continued those Christian practices of visiting the poor in their own cottages, and of carrying the Gospel to wretched prisoners in the gaols, and did so with much more comfort to him- self than he had ever before experienced. Conscious in a degree of the gifts he in- herited, while he was at the same time a pattern of humility, Whitefield applied to Benson, bishop of Gloucester, for ordination, and that prelate handsomely yielded what was required of him. At a later period the Bishop professed to regret this action, and consequently received the gentle rebuke of Lady Huntingdon. " Mark my words," the Countess said with some vehemence, " when you are on your dying bed that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with complacence." This turned out to be the case ; for in his last days Benson sent Whitefield a present of ten guineas, and requested the great preacher to remember his old friend in prayer. Whitefield Becomes a Preacher. Whitefield preached his first sermon, im- mediately after he was ordained, in the church of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester, before a crowded congregation of old and young, who had known him as a tapster at the Bell Tavern. "The sight at first a little awed me," he afterwards wrote, "but I was com- forted with a heartfelt sense of the Divine presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accustomed to public speaking when a boy at school, and of exhorting and teaching the prisoners and poor people at their private houses whilst at the university. By these means I was kept from being daunted overmuch. As I pro- ceeded I perceived the fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd who knew me in my childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of Divine authority. A few mocked, but most for the present seemed struck ; and I have since heard that a complaint has been made to the Bishop that I drove fifteen mad. The worthy prelate, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday." Now that the die was cast there was neither any desire or possibility of going back; and specially endowed both by grace and nature for his peculiar work, Whitefield had the talent as well as the temper necessary for taking the lead in a new and great movement. There must have been something startlingly original in his whole method of preaching to account for the efiect his sermons at once produced, the more so because doctrines were proclaimed which were virtually new to the popular mind. The fifteen he was reputed to have sent mad at Gloucester were typical of thousands of others who were to become similarly affected. At Bristol, in 1737, the whole population, from the mayor downwards, seems to have been carried away by the irresistible eloquence of the young itinerant. People seemed to realize that an apostle had been raised up to awaken a sleeping age with trumpet-tongue, and to call men from sin and folly to a more reasonable service. At first it seemed as if the young evangelist was about to take England by storm, and to become the most popular man in the country among all classes. The Earl and Countess of Huntingdon were already among his stead- fast friends ; and this pious couple brought into the Methodist camp such of their aristo- cratic friends as were willing to be impressed. Many great people were lastingly reformed, while the letters they wrote still rank among the curiosities. of the Revival. " God knows we all need mending, and none more than I Ii3 METHODISM. myself," was the truthful confession of the dignified Duchess of Marlborough. Lady Hinchinbroke also wrote in a strain of deeper penitence ; and the Duchess of Queensbury was for a time among Whitefield's regular hearers. Even the Duchess of Buckingham, a natural daughter of James II., and the divorced wife of the Earl of Anglesey, went to hear, though she returned home shocked at having been told that her heart was " as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth." Though this was "highly offensive and insulting" to one of her lady- ship's temperament, her candid confession testified to the power of Whitefield's searching words. This unwonted commotion occasioned by the action of a clergyman not much over twenty years of age, awakened the opposition of several ecclesiastical dignitaries, who soon won the sympathy of large numbers of the inferior clergy and the common people, so that a tide of persecution had now to be encountered by the great preacher. White- field was threatened with excommunication by the Chancellor of the Bristol diocese ; but the Chancellor soon learned to exercise a wiser discretion, finding that his anger did not prevent people coming distances of twenty miles to hear their favourite minister, who now began to gather immense audiences in the open air, when, with few exceptions, the churches of London and the provinces were closed against him. Whitefield discovered that although he had been enabled to make a fair start, his enemies were both strong and determined ; but with characteristic courage he resolved not to yield. " Blessed be God, all things happen for the furtherance of the Gospel," he wrote in March 1739. "I ^^^^ preach to ten times more people than I should if I had been confined to the churches." Per- secution drove him to revive the primitive practice of open-air preaching, and the fields, the market-cross, the village green, served the purpose of such a man far better than the limited area of even the largest churches. He had already paid one visit to America; and what was the nature of his daily work at this time may be gathered from the letters of contemporaries who shared his labours and joys. " Being thrust out of the synagogues, our brother has settled a lecture or exposition at Newgate every morning," wrote William Seward from Bristol at this time ; " the place being more convenient than Oxford Castle chapel. He generally expounds to one, two, or three societies every night ; and has preached seven or eight times on a mount about two miles from Bristol, where have been from 1,500 to 15,000 hearers. ... At one place, the church not being big enough, he preached from the cross. He preaches once a week on the steps of a workhouse, with a hall behind and a court-yard almost fuU before. He has preached in two other parts of Kingswood, among the colliers, and thousands come, — horsemen, coaches,chaises, etc. . . . You may be sure we are set up for being stark mad." It was now no uncommon thing for 20,000 persons to collect around the preacher, numbers climbing into trees or sitting in the hedges. The colliers referred to were those of Kingswood, a class described in Wesley's journal as "a people famous, from the beginning hitherto, for neither fear- ing God nor regarding man ; so ignorant of the things of God that they seemed but one remove from the beasts that perish." With tears furrowing their begrimed cheeks, these people now reverently said Amen to the preacher's message, and contributed to the fund for erecting a day-school for their children. One puerile critic, after referring to the meagre countenance, lank hair, and puritanical bearing of the evangelists, pre- dicted "a prodigious rise in the price of coals about the city of Bristol " if five or six thousand colliers at one time were thus to be detained from their work. The answer was drawn from the New Testament — The colliers will enter into the Kingdom of God before you. Whitefield in London. " Let not the adversaries say I have thrust myself out of their synagogues," exclaimed the young evangelist. " No, they have thrust me out ; and since the self-righteous men of this generation count themselves unworthy, I go out into the highways and hedges, and compel harlots, publicans, and sinners to come in, that my Master's house may be filled." He had already entered on this course in the provinces, and on his return to London in the spring of 1739, he at once attracted an unparalleled following. Invited by the vicar to preach at Islington, — the only church now open to him in London, — he was challenged by the churchwarden, and re- moved to the churchyard, where, as a news- paper reported, the crowd did " a vast deal of damage to the tombs and gravestones." In proportion to, his success the newspapers increased in wrath ; but their petty outbursts served only to increase the crowds. At Ken- nington-common, on May 2nd, he preached to ten thousand ; on the evening following the audience was both more numerous and more attentive ; and on the 5th, the numbers had increased to twenty thousand. What took place on the Sabbath, however, was still more wonderful, the assemblies having been drawn together before church time in the morning, and when there was no indoor service in the evening. " Such a sight I never saw before," wrote the preacher, refer- ring to his work on Sunday evening, May 119 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. 6th ; " I believe there were no less than fifty thousand people, near fourscore coaches, besides great numbers of horses. There was an awful silence among the people." Collections were made at these services for the orphans of Georgia ; and hence we are further told that "it would have delighted any one to see with what eagerness and cheerful- ness the people came up both sides of the eminence on which I stood, and afterwards to the coach doors, to throw in their mites." The crowds increased to sixty thousand, and over £Zo, nearly half of the amount in half- pence, would be collected on a single Sabbath. We hear of persons fainting in the crowd, and on one occasion a genteelly dressed man dropped down dead. Some idea of the popular excitement may be inferred from the fact, that during 1739 there were forty-nine separate publications issued respecting the Methodist controversy. Somewhat rougher, and more in keeping with the character of the times, was White- field's experience at Moor fields during Easter, 1742. " Moorfields," he remarked, " is a spacious place, given, as I have been told, by one Madam Moore, for all sorts of people to divert themselves in. For many years past, from one end to the other, booths of all kinds have been erected for mountebanks, players, puppet-shows, and such like." At six in the morning the evangelist ventured into the midst of 10,000 people, who were waiting, he tells us, "not for me, but for Satan's instruments to amuse them." Mount- ing his field pulpit he preached from the words, "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness," etc. In regard to the ribald crowd, it is said " they gazed, they listened, they wept." At noon, when the number of people was increased about threefold, the experiment was repeated ; and anticipating that he would have "to fight with beasts at Ephesus," the preacher this time selected for his text, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." His calculations were correct ; '• For," adds he, " I was honoured with having stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and pieces of dead cats thrown at me whilst engaged in calling them from their favourite but lying vanities." In no wise daunted, Whitefield announces that he will preach again at six, when there were "thousands and thousands more than before, still more deeply engaged in their unhappy diversions." The powerful voice of the young preacher at once attracted the people ; but showmen and merry-andrews, who saw their customers drawn off, were visibly enraged. One man unsuccessfully tried to strike the intruder with a large whip ; then a recruiting- sergeant was hired to march through the throng with a drum and band ; and all eJse failing, a mob banded together to overthrow the pulpit. All was of no avail^ however. Whitefield retired from the conflict more than conqueror ; for the awakened of that day became the foundation of the church at the Tabernacle in Moorfields. About a thousand notes were received from persons anxious to turn into a better way of life. He also preached with similar results in other parts of the suburbs, such as Charles-square, Hoxton, and Marylebone-fields. In time the spacious tabernacles at Totten- ham-court-road and Moorfields testified to the permanent hold Whitefield had obtained on the London population, while as chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon he was asso- ciated with congregations at Bath and Tun- bridge. Did space allow, extended reference might be made to equally effective work accomplished in America, which continent Whitefield visited seven times — in Scotland, in Wales, while even Ireland did not altogether miss sharing in the reformation. The awaken- ing of drowsy ministers alone in New England was a permanent benefit to the Church and the country. The scenes in Scotland, and the widespread impressions produced, showed that the preacher's message was quite as cordially accepted by people who had no sympathy with his notions of Church order. In Wales one tour surpassed the preceding one in success. Being no sectary, he had no' wish to found a separate society ; but as the work grew upon his hands he almost neces- sarily accepted the aid of assistant preachers,, and in this manner originated the Countess of Huntingdon's Connexion. The Countess of Huntingdon. Though intimately associated with White- field, and accepting Whitefield's tenets as. her own, the influence of this devoted woman was really given to the Methodist Revival as a whole. Born in 1707, — the memorable year in which Scotland was united with England, — she survived until 1791 ; and forty- five years out of that extended period she lived in widowhood. Her father was Washington, second Earl Ferrers, and at the age of twenty-one he gave Selina in marriage to Theophilus, Earl of Huntingdon, by whom her Ladyship had four sons and three daughters. During their happy wedded life, the Earl and Countess had done their part in countenancing the Methodists ; but after the Earl's sudden death from apoplexy in 1746, Lady Huntingdon devoted her fortune and energies more exclusively to religion and philanthropy. While Wesley was the evangelist of the poor, Whitefield, in Lady Huntingdon's man- sion at Chelsea, preached to the first people in the land ; and it was there that Chesterfield confessed to the accomplished orator, " Sir, I METHODISM. will not tell you what I shall tell others how I approve you." Many striking things might be told respecting the aristocratic hearers there drawn together, many of whom gave their influence to the new movement. The Countess relinquished her carriage, sold her jewels, devoting from first to last ^100,000 to the common cause, and leaving at her death sixty-four chapels, and a college for the education of ministers, which still survives at Cheshunt. In every available way, until her resources were . exhausted and aid had to be asked from others, the Countess pro- moted the com- mon cause. " She purchased theatres, halls, and dilapidated chapels in Lon- don, Bristol, and Dublin, and fitted them up for public wor- ship," says the accomplished historian, Dr. Stevens. " New chapels were also erected by her aid in many places in Eng- land, Wales, and Ireland. Distinguished Calvinistic clergymen, churchmen as well as Dissen- ters, co-operated with her plans, and were more or less under her direction. Romaine, Venn, Mad an, Ber- ridge, Toplady, Shirley, P'letch- er, Benson, and a host of ^thers, shared cent labours." ~' out Thb Rev. George Whitefield. her benefi- The kingdom was marked into different districts, and preachers were sent out in every direction to proclaim the Gospel in all accessible places. Bound by strong sympathies to the Established Church, the Countess was no more a Dis- senter than Whitefield or the Wesleys, necessity rather than inclination leading her to take advantage of the Toleration Act in 1779. The School of the Prophets she set up among the mountains of Wales was hardly 121 less romantic in its origin than in natural surroundings. There stood at Trevecca a castle^ whose now half ruinous walls had been, beatfte by the storms of five hundred winters; and .wi'ith the assistance of some richer friends, this quondam stronghold was fitted up as a college. The founder conferred with Wesley, and when he approved, she also asked the advice of Fletcher, the godly vicar of Madeley, whose labours among a debased population constitute one of the romances of Methodism. Fletcher not only prayed, he dreamed about the pro- posed enter- prise, and in his vision a young collier, well known to him, appeared asking for admission to the institution. Strange in itself, the dream was still stranger in its fulfilment; for Glazebrook the collier, and Fletcher the vicar, became the first student and the first president of Trevecca. The Wesleys. Space will not allow of com- plete details being given of the history of this distinguish- ed family ; but as the facts are tolerably well known to the majority of well- informed read- ers, the omis- sion will not interfere with the progress of the narrative. Without betraying in youth any very extra- ordinary precocity, the brothers Wesley were reared in one of those godly and cultivated homes whence great men might be expected to come forth ; and when the straitened means of the parents are taken into account, remarkable care was bestowed upon their education. Born in the period of the later Puritans, Samuel Wesley the elder retained the sympathies of his order, although he had through conviction relinquished Nonconform- hPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. ity to enter the Established Church. Pass- ing his early days among Dissenters, Daniel Defoe was one of his schoolfellows : ^nd introduced to the family of Dr. An>P-^>ley by his brother-in-law Dunton the book? ller, he married Susannah, the fair and accom- plished daughter of that divine, whose family, according to Dr. Manton, numbered " either two dozen or a quarter of a hundred." Determined to secure a university education, Samuel Wesley walked to Oxford in 1683, with a trifle over two pounds in his pocket ; and although he received only five shillings in as many years from friends, he left college with honour, and with the degree of B.A. attached to his name. Susannah Annesley was in every way worthy of a man of this calibre and resolution. Her husband made a supremely happy choice, and became besides associated with a woman who has become a greater favourite with one class of biogra- phers than any other untitled heroine of modern times. As learned as Queen Elizabeth, she was still the model house- wife ; and was at once a competent teacher and judicious disciplinarian. In his childhood, John Wesley is said to have shown some ambition ; and until he was nearly eleven years of age, or until he entered the Charterhouse School, his educa- tion, as was also that of his brothers and sisters, was conducted by Mrs. Wesley her- self. For children of John's tender age, life at a pubUc school was then a trying ordeal ; but although in this instance all the average pains and penalties had to be endured, and though some vices were learned, the scholar never neglected his father's wise directions to preserve health by taking sufficient exer- cise ; and the observance of this habit throughout life will largely account for the vigour of John Wesley's constitution holding out until the extreme verge of a green old age. Notwithstanding some drawbacks in- cident to poverty and the low moral tone of the times, life at Oxford some few years later was a pleasanter experience. " Fruit is so very cheap that apples may be had almost for fetching, and other things are both plenti- ful and good," he writes to his mother in I724- Then follows a picture of the univer- sity city as it was in the reign of George I. : — " We have, indeed, something bad as well as good, for a great many rogues are about the town, insomuch that it is exceedingly unsafe to be out late at night. A gentleman of my acquaintance, standing at the door of a coftee-house about seven in the evening, had no sooner turned about, but his cap and wig were snatched off his head, and though he followed the thief a great distance, he was unable to recover them. I am pretty safe from such gentlemen ; for unless they carried me away, carcass and all, they would have but a poor purchase." And yet men of this calibre, who afterwards constituted the Holy Club, were those who set a princely example of liberality to the self-indulgent and the indifferent. The rule was to live a frugal life, and to give away the surplus. " One of them had thirty pounds a year," remarks Wesley, when referring to the subject at a later date ; " he lived on twenty-eight, and gave away forty shillings." Eventually that same man saw his income increase fourfold ; but still he spent no more on himself, while the poor were gainers by ninety-two pounds a year. Though this was the discipline self-imposed at the university, the brothers had as yet advanced no farther than the self-righteous- ness of sacerdotalism. The rector of Epworth died ; and on the dispersion of the family, John and Charles Wesley emigrated to Georgia, whence, however, they soon returned to commence with more enlightenment the great mission of their lives. The Wesleys become Itinerants. Whitefield having inaugurated the work of revival by preaching in the open air, the Wesleys, in 1739, followed in the path of in- novation ; and that year is now regarded as the one in which Methodism was founded. Strongly attached to the Established Church, they would gladly have availed themselves of its pulpits ; and not until those pulpits were closed against them did the Wesleys, as Whitefied had done before them, take to fields and commons. The clergy by their opposition really advanced the cause they desired to retard ; for if the efforts of the evangelists had been confined to the narrow limits of the churches, their influence over the population would have been correspond- ingly curtailed. As a preacher or as an orator, John Wesley was a marked contrast to Whitefield, taking care to be punctiliously correct in both language and action, while Whitefield did not distain to indulge in those " little impro- prieties," which, though sufficiently harmless, sometimes provoked a smile. We read o the latter preaching " like a lion," vehement in his earnestness, and so exhausting every resource in one sermon, that at the close he would retire from the scene sick, fainting, and depressed. But though Wesley sought to impress the people in a quieter way, the effects of the sermons he now began to preach t.» out-door audiences were really miraculous' He had taken in hand the colliers' school at Kingswood, and while attracting vast congregations in the vicinity of Bristol, num- bers of hearers "dropped on every side as thunderstruck." It does not devolve upon us to account for these phenomena, but as historical facts they are no less interesting than extraordinary to common readers. To 122 METHODISM. borrow the words of Dr. Stevens : " A tra- veller at one time was passing, but on pausing a moment to hear the preacher was directly smitten to the earth, and lay there apparently without life. A Quaker who was admonish- ing the bystanders against these strange scenes as affectation and hypocrisy, was himself struck down as by an unseen hand, while the words of reproach were yet upon his lips. A weaver, a great disliker of Dis- senters, fearing that the new excitement would alienate his neighbours from the Church, went about zealously among them to prove that it was the work of Satan, and would endanger their souls. A new convert lent him one of Wesley's sermons ; while reading it at home he suddenly turned pale, fell to the floor, and roared so mightily that the people ran into the house from the streets, and found him sweating, weeping, and screaming in anguish. He recovered his self-possession, and arose rejoicing in God." While the preachers endeavoured to repress rather than encourage excitement, large num- bers were similarly affected. We cannot wonder that decorous bishops and clergymen, who had never in their lives been guilty of any pulpit impropriety, were too prejudiced to stay to inquire into the cause of such manifestations. Naturally brave and magna- nimous, the brothers Wesley were at the outset nervously timid in regard to ecclesias- tical irregularities, but all things tended to their encouragement. There had been a time when Whitefield, in his spiritual afflic- tion, had looked to his friends for counsel as to superiors in the faith ; but now it was Whitefield who led the way, and it was his contagious courage that emboldened the Wesleys to overcome one prejudice after another which education and early associa- tions had implanted in their minds. At one time, while London and Bristol were being stirred to their depths by the two greatest of the evangelists, Charles Wesley was threatened with pains and penalties for pursu- ing a similar course in Essex. What course Charles would have adopted had he been left to himself is uncertain ; but, advised by WTiitefield, he replied to the Archbishop by preaching to ten thousand people in Moor- lields. But while bands of converts were being reclaimed in the open-air, the need of pro- \iding suitable meeting-houses for the new congregations became urgent ; and thus liristol and London saw the two first Metho- he other thrones had been rudely shaken by the great storms of 1848, the year of revolutions, and of the troublous period that immediately followed. France had seen the Orleans dynasty driven from the throne, and the hastily-constructed. 129 •POCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. ill-starred second republic succeeded by a second Napoleonic empire. In Austria the half-imbecile Emperor Ferdinand had been forced to resign the sceptre he nominally swayed, into the hands of his youthful nephew, Francis Joseph. The throne of Frederick William the Fourth of Prussia had been almost overset, and the humiliated king had been compelled to stand bareheaded on the balcony of his palace at Berlin, while the corpses of insurgents, killed by the soldiers in a street fight, were borne past in pro- cession, the insolent cry of " Miitze ab Schurke " (Take your cap off, you scoundrel) rudely admonishing him to pay due reverence to the dead. Pope Pius IX., driven from Rome, had only been reinstated by the help of French bayonets ; and throughout the German States democracy had triumphed for awhile, though only to be afterwards put down by an overwhelming force. But from all these convulsions Russia had been free. The storm of 1848 had not shaken her throne ; and even Poland, generally eager to snatch any opportunity that gave a chance of a rising for freedom, had remained passive, in silent submission to the will of the autocrat by whom she was governed. So far from being herself menaced, Russia had been able to give help to a neighbouring government in the day of peril ; and it was by Russian troops that the formidable revolt of Hungary had been put down, and Austria had been enabled to re-establish her shattered authority. Everywhere the great Northern Power was regarded as the chief representative and upholder of despotic rule ; and from the commencement of the reign of the monarch who then held her destinies in his hand, her power, during more than a quarter of a cen- tury, had been looked upon as continually on the increase. The Emperor Nicholas. That Russia was regarded as the great despotic power was due in no small degree to the character of the monarch by whom she was governed. The Czar, Nicholas I., the son of that Alexander I. who had been the ally of England in the old war, was the very personification of an autocrat. He was lofty of stature, and had a countenance of singular beauty, of a proud and military type. At the commencement of his reign he had given proof of remarkable personal courage, putting down a threatened outbreak among the Moujiks, or peasants, by the mere force of his energetic command and his undaunted bearing in a moment of peril. He possessed the strong will common to nearly all the Romanoffs, and a large measure of the talent by which many of them were distinguished. Relentless and stern he had often shown himself, especially in the case of Poland ; as evidenced in his reception of a deputation from that unhappy country, who came soon after his accession, in the hope of obtaining from the new monarch some mitigation of the hard laws under which the land was groaning. " Above all things, gentlemen, no illusions ! " was the Czar's unpromising reply to the suppliants. '' Poland is mine, and I will drive her," was his expression on another occasion ; and he fully carried out his threat. At the same time he was possessed of a charm of manner which enabled him, when he chose to exert it, completely to mask his intentions under the appearance of perfect frankness — a faculty in which he resembled the great Frederick of Prussia. He had a great love for military organization, with a ceaseless and restless activity, and a tendency personally to super- intend and arrange details, in which again we trace an analogy to the Prussian hero. His ideal of manly work and sagacity is said to have been the Duke of Wellington ; and as the author of "The Invasion of the Crimea " pertinently remarks, the ruler who set up for himself such a model should have had some truth in him. To his other qualifications for rule, Nicholas added the very useful one of being, to some extent, a travelled man. He had seen men and nations beyond the confines of his own vast realm. Notably he had, in 1844, paid a visit to England; a visit that was destined to have very important effects on his mind, and to help, at least, in implant- ing an error that at length proved fatal to him. Among the various sights exhibited to the Imperial visitor and to the King of Saxony, who was the guest of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert at the same time, was a review at Woolwich. At that time the numbers of most of the English regiments were far below their normal strength ; and the Emperor, who was accustomed to review enormous masses of men, while admiring the appearance, discipline, and efficiency of English soldiers, was evidently surprised that there were so few of them, and went away with most erroneous notions as to the military might of England, and the number of men she could put into the field on an emergency. He came to look upon England as simply a great naval power, and fancied she would not interfere in any military enterprise in which her own territories were not attacked. The day was to come when he should be sternly and fatally undeceived. Policy of Russia ; State of the various Governments at the Beginning of 1853- An old Muscovite proverb describes the Russian as sitting by the shore and waiting for the tide. Like most national proverbs 130 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. it contains a great truth. ' It illustrates the unwearied patience and perseverance with which men of that nationality will prepare the way for a design, until the propitious moment has come for putting it in execution, with a good chance of success. And as with the Russian in private life, so with the government of the Czar. There had been for very many years a scheme of national policy steadily kept in view, though it might seem to be abandoned. According to some authorities it dated so far back as the time of Peter the Great ; and at one time, indeed, a document was published in various English journals, purporting to be a will of the great founder of modern Russia, in which the pursuance of that policy was distinctly left as a charge to his successors. The asser- tion was not literally true. The document was not a will of Czar Peter; but the line of conduct it advocated was that which ha:d been carried out by his successors, and especially by that great ruler and bad woman, — far-seeing and ruthless, politic and profli- gate, — Catherine II., the mother of the mad Emperor Paul. Its purport and direction were to drive the Turk out of Europe, to in- crease the territory of Russia towards the south, and to establish a direct influence over the principalities on the Danube. It was a great and far-stretching design, and one that involved the necessity of a long waiting on the shore, and a close watching of the signs that should tell of the favourable rising of the tide,— that tide which Czar Nicholas hoped might be taken at the flood, — to lead on to fortune. At the beginning of 1853 the favourable moment seemed, in the eyes of Nicholas, at length to have arrived, — the moment at which the various governments, fully occupied with their own affairs, or hampered by recent events and their consequences, would have neither the inclination nor the power to interfere with the designs of the Czar. France, he con- sidered, would have sufficient to do at home in suppressing the wide-spread discontents that had arisen from the cmcp d'etat of the 2nd of December, 185 1. The brand-new French Empire of Napoleon III., which he was inclined to regard with contempt, could not be sufficiently established to warrant its chief in engaging in foreign war. Austria the Czar could count upon as an ally ; for had he not marched his legions to her rescue in her extreme need, and reconquered for her the revolted province of Hungary ? Prussia was bound by close ties alike of political and of family alliance to his dynasty, and would certainly undertake nothing against him, even if she did not co-operate actively in his designs. Consequently there remained, according to the calculation of the Emperor Nicholas, only one power with which he would have to reckon, and that power was England. How the Czar proposed to deal with Great Britain in this matter, we shall now see. The Emperor and Sir Hamilton Sey- mour ; Taking an Observation, It was at a party at the palace of the Grand Duchess Helen, on the 9th of January, 1853, that a remarkable conversation took place between the Emperor Nicholas and the English Ambassador Sir Hamilton Seymour, — the first of various conversations which threw a startling light upon the state of affairs and the designs of the Russian autocrat. Sir Hamilton was said to be a favourite with the Emperor, of whose qualities he had expressed a high opinion. On this occasion Nicholas declared very openly and strongly the neces- sity that existed for a perfect understanding between England and France, and requested that his words might be conveyed to Lord John Russell. "When we are agreed," he added, " I am quite without anxiety as to the rest of Europe ; it is immaterial what the others may think or do." When Sir Hamil- ton hinted that considerable anxiety existed in Her Majesty's Government with regard to Turkey, the Czar spoke of that country as in an utterly disorganised state, and falling to pieces from weakness ; adding that neither Russia nor England ought to take any de- cisive action in the matter without the cog- nisance and approval of the other power. Then he added these remarkable words, which became proverbial, as descriptive of Turkey and her affairs : " We have on our hands a sick man — a very sick man ; it will be, I tell you frankly, a great misfortune, if one of these days he should slip away from us, espe- cially before all necessary arrangements were made. However, this is not the time to speak to you on that matter." The Emperor found time a few days after- wards to renew the subject, and plainly gave the ambassador to understand that in the ap- proaching dissolution of Turkey he expected England to put no obstacle in the way of his plans ; while for his part he saw no reason why Egypt should not be made a British dependency — and, if the British Government chose to have it so, the island of Candia also. To the great disappointment of the Emperor, Sir Hamilton Seymour distinctly declined the proposed arrangement, and plainly de- clared that England would consider the main- tenance of the Turkish Empire as essential to the peace of Europe. The English Cabinet saw that such a protectorate as the Emperor wished to establish in the Principalities, and the possession of Constantinople by Russia, either directly or indirectly, would be most injurious to the interests of all the remaining states ; and Nicholas apparently gave up the 131 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. scheme. But he could not but feel bitterly- mortified at the issue of his overtures, and determined to attain his object in another way. There were among the subjects of the Ottoman Empirealarge number of Christians, the great majority of whom belonged to the Greek Church, of which the Czar was con- sidered the head. More than one treaty with the Porte gave to the Emperor of Russia not always able to prevent or to punish. Nicholas now demanded of the Turkish Government extended powers and a com- plete recognition of his right to intervene in the affairs of the Porte, as protector of all Turkish subjects who professed the Christian faith. The meaning of this demand was well under- stood alike in Turkey and by the Western Powers. If granted, not the Sultan but the The Sultan Abdul Medjid. a kind of vague and indefinite right to act as protector of the interests of the Greek Church in the Turkish dominions. Not that the Turkish Government could be accused of exercising a persecuting sway over its Chris- tian subjects ; for the Moslems, looking upon their own faith as the only true one, extended a kind of contemptuous tolerance to all other creeds, making no distinction between them ; though occasional outbreaks of fanaticism might occur, and lead to deeds of violence, which the weak government of the Sultan was Russian Czar would in reality be the master of those millions of Christians in the East,, and a great step would have been taken towards the dismembering of the Turkish empire, and the establishment of Russian rule. Montenegro ; . The Czar's Protecto- rate ; Mentschikoff's Mission, At the same time disturbances broke out in another quarter. The Montenegrins, or inhabitants of the " Black Mountains," a tur- 132 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. bulent people belonging to the Greek Church, tributaries of the Turks, but under the direct influence of Russia, were incited, after a visit paid by their prince, Danilo, to Russia at the beginning of 1853, to revolt against their Moslem masters, and to demand that their religious affairs should be transferred from the supervision of the Patriarch of Constanti- nople to that of the Russians ; and began making predatory incursions into Turkey. The Porte promptly despatched against them an able commander, Omar Pasha, — for the Montenegrin revolt seemed a preliminary to a general rising of the Slavic Christians against the Moslem ; and the Montenegrin land was quickly filled with rapine and blood- shed. But here Austria intervened, with even more than her usual diplomatic skill. Seeing the use Russia might make of this Montenegrin quarrel, the Government in Vienna despatched Prince Leiningen to the Sultan with a peremptory demand for the withdrawal of the Turkish troops and the cessation of the Montenegrin war, before that ardent Protector, the Czar, could interfere in defence of the Christians. The Suitan yielded to the envoy's request ; the Turkish troops were withdrawn ; and Austria had the satisfaction of having deprived the Czar of a very pretty quarrel against Turkey ; while at the same time the attention of the Western Powers had been drawn in a very marked manner to the proceedings of Russia. The homely adage that "two can generally play at a game," was now exemplified. Napoleon III., the French Emperor, who had been treated with something very like scorn by the Russian Emperor, and who, moreover, owed much of his position and power to the support of the Romish clergy, that he was anxious to propitiate, came forward with a demand based upon a treaty as old as the time of King Francis I., that Christians belonging to the Latin Church should have equal privileges with those of the Greek communion, in pilgrimages to the holy places. This raised the ire of the imperious autocrat of Russia, who forthwith despatched to Constantinople Prince Ment- schikoff, a rough, peremptory soldier, who immediately began to bully the weak Sultan Abdul Medjid in approved Russian fashion ; refusing to consult with Fuad Pasha, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, demanding an immediate audience of the Sultan himself, and bringing forward his demand for a protectorate over all Greek Christians for his master in the most offensive form, to the disgust of the Cabinets of Europe, who saw in his barrack-room bearing an illustration of the great Napoleon's pithy saying, "Scratch the Russian, and you come upon the Tartar." A direct refusal was the natural result; for to grant such demands would have been to admit the Czar as joint ruler of Turkey with the Sultan. War between Russia and Turkey ; The Anglo-French Alliance for THE Protection of the Porte. Prince Mentschikoff quitted Constanti- nople breathing threatenings and slaughter against the Porte ; and the Czar, when he heard of the failure of the embassy, deter- mined to follow up the step already taken by another of still graver significance. He at once commanded that two Russian armies should cross the Pruth, the frontier river between his dominions and the Danubian principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia, which were tributary to Turkey, — to occupy these territories with 80,000 men as a "material guarantee" until the Porte should accede to his demands. " This is war," said Count Orloff gravely, when his imperial master told him what he had done ; but the Czar still thought that nothing in the way of war against him could be begun without England's co-operation ; and that England, though she might threaten, would not pro- ceed to extremities. Religious faith and religious fanaticism had always been strong traits in the Russian character; and Nicholas was far too astute a ruler not to take advantage of this to the fullest extent. In a manifesto issued to the Russian people, it was set forth that the Sultan was doing injury and wrong to the religion all good subjects of the Czar were bound to defend. " We are ready, even now, to arrest the movement of our armies," said this document, " if the Ottoman Porte will bind itself solemnly to observe the inviolability of the Orthodox Church. But if blindness and obstinacy decide for the contrary, then, caUing God to our aid, we shall leave the decision of the struggle to Him, and in full confidence in His omnipotent right hand, we shall march forward for the Orthodox Church, But though these proceedings excited general disapproval in Europe, and the action of the Emperor of Russia was universally con- demned, the various Cabinets were ar.xious to-avoid war, and ready to "build a golden bridge" for the retreat of Nicholas from his aggressive position. By the advice of Lord Stratford de RedcHffe, the English ambas- sador at Constantinople, the Sultan forbore to look upon the occupation of the princi- palities as an act of war, as he might justi- fiably have done; and the representatives of England, France, Austria, and Prussia addressed a collective note to the Czar, pressing him to moderate his claims. He still refused to listen to these moderate counsels ; while Turkey took heart in view of the fact that the united public opinion of 133 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Europe was with her and against her oppo- nent. The expedient of enlisting rehgious enthusiasm in the strife was put into practice in Turkey, as in Russia ; the Turks were taught to consider the pretensions of the Northern Power as an attack aimed at their creed ; and on the 4th of October, 1853, war was declared by the Porte against Russia. Meanwhile a change was brought about in the attitude of the great powers of Europe. England and France were associated in an alliance which might well fill the Emperor of Russia with surprise and indignation ; for, thoroughly impressed as he was with the importance of dynastic right and privilege, he was the last man to believe that England, the most persistent and implacable enemy of Napoleon I., would unite with the nephew of her great foe against the son and suc- cessor of Alexander of Russia, the friend and ally who had been so intimately associated with her in putting Napoleon down. The separate understanding between the English Government and the second French Empire took him by surprise. Prussia, on the other hand, justified his calculations by her non- interference. Frederick William IV., a man of cultivated intellect, was proverbially given to halting between two opinions. He was a very different man from his younger brother and successor, the Emperor of North Germany ; nor was there at that time a Bismark or a Moltke to guide the counsels of Prussia, Austria — though the friendly feeling between her and Russia was quite dissolved — seemed only inclined to resist the Czar's encroachments so far as they regarded her own interests; and these interests were sufficiently guarded when the seat of war was transferred — as it was soon destined to be- — from the Principalities to Russian and Turkish soil. Thus England and France were left to sign a treaty with the Porte, on the 27th of November, 1853, in which they undertook to uphold the cause of Turkey by armed intervention if Russia continued deaf to remonstrance. This step was popular in both countries. In France, the army, by means of which Louis Napoleon the President had become Napoleon III. the Emperor, was well pleased to see a prospect of war in which promotions and titles and wealth were to be gained ; and in England a feeling of general and profound anger had been excited by the duplicity of the Czar, whose professions of religious zeal were denounced as thorough hypocrisy, and to whom the worst of motives were attributed. Omar Pasha and Oltenitza ; Sinope ; Commencement OF the Crimean War. Another circumstance had also contributed not a little to render the Anglo-French alli- ance for the defence of Turkey popular in England. The Turks, under Omar Pasha, had gained a brilliant victory on the 4th of November, at Oltenitza, on the Danube, over a Russian army superior in number ; and it is a natural impulse to be willing to help those who have shown their ability to strike a blow for themselves. Still negotiations with the Russian Government went on, even after the English and French fleets had been despatched to the Bosphorus, — an act against which the Czar violently protested ; but early in December came news that a Turkish squadron had been attacked by a Russian fleet in the harbour of Sinope, on the south shore of the Black Sea, and utterly destroyed, after heroic resistance, in which all the crews perished, with the exception of some 400 men. This attack was violently denounced at the time in England as a treacherous massacre, because negotiations for a settlement of the Eastern question were still going on between the Western Powers and Russia. But Mr. Kinglake and other writers have shown that Russia, when she was at war with Turkey, cannot be blamed for choosing her own time and place to attack the enemy, and could hardly be expected to leave the Turkish fleet alone until the English and French should come to reinforce it, and render the numbers on both sides equal. It was felt, however, that Sinope took away almost the last hope that peace between Russia and the Western Powers might still be maintained. Public opinion in England was now in favour of war ; and the general feeling with regard to the Czar and his policy was thoroughly in accordance with the words published by the Times in its summary issued on the last day of 1853. "A year ago," says the writer, "the Emperor of Russia enjoyed among the powers of Europe a well-earned character for honesty, straight- forwardness, and moderation. Who could have supposed that within a few months all this could have been so utterly forgotten, and every consideration of honour and justice sacrificed to an empty and profitless ambi- tion? With vast domains to civilise and retain, with a boundless field for the exercise of enlightened benevolence, and a prospect of power and pre-eminence by developing the arts of peace over Europe and Asia, far more certain and far more glorious than any military triumph, this mighty potentate has deliberately turned from good to evil, and preferred the acquisition, by fraud and vio- lence, of two or three desolated provinces to the welfare and advancement of the seventh part of the inhabited globe over which he reigns. From the provocation which Prince Menschikoff was instructed to throw out, under the mask of an ambassador, to the late murderous attack upon Sinope, the policy 134 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. of the Czar has been one and uniform. To bully the weak, to cajole the strong, to seize by force, or to circumvent by fraud, are now- recognised as the uniform tactics of the once great upholder of order and treaties, and arbiter of the disputes of Europe." For thirty-eight years there had been no great European war; but the year 1854 dawned upon the world " dark with the presage of impending battle." That presage was speedily fulfilled ; indeed, there is little doubt that the year 1853 would not have passed away without hostilities, but for the fact that the Earl of Aberdeen, one of the most pacific of Prime Ministers, was at the head of affairs. But now Lord Palmer- ston, the friend of the Emperor Napoleon III., who had been compelled to resign his office in the Cabinet for expressions that were interpreted as approving the coup d'etat, joined the Ministry ; and this was a sign that affairs would be more vigorously conducted. The country had long been drifting towards war, and the idea of a contest with Russia was far from unpopular. The oft-repeated taunt that the English were "a nation of shopkeepers," that England had "joined the Peace Society," and that Britannia had ex- changed the empire of the sea for the manage- ment of countless cotton mills and cloth factories, had offended the national pride ; and a general feeling of almost joyous alacrity was experienced when on the 27th of March, i854,the announce- ment was made by the heralds in their official costume, from the steps of the Royal Ex- change, London, that England, in alliance with France, had declared war against Russia. Some who heard that announcement made, might remember to have read how a great statesman, Sir Robert Walpole, had bitterly exclaimed, when the Londoners set the church bells ringing a century before on the announcement of a popular but unjust war : " They are ringing the bells now ; they'll be wringing their hands by-and-by." The Crimean war cannot be stigmatised as unjust ; but few who were present, when its com- mencement was proclaimed, anticipated in how many of the homes of Britain there would be wringing of hands and wailing. Omar Pasha. before the struggle should have run its not very protracted course. The Allied Forces and their Com- manders; Raglan, St. Arnaud, DuNDAS, Lyons. The commander to whom the honour of Eng- land was to be entrusted in the combat against the great Northern Power was in many re- spects judiciously selected. Lord Raglan, better known to many of his friends by his earlier name of Lord Fitzroy Somerset, had been the old and trusted friend and companion of the great Duke of Wellington, under whom he had served in war and in peace. He had been present at the great day of Waterloo, on which occasion he lost his right arm ; afterwards he had been the Duke's military secretary ; and after the death of Colonel Gurwood, had completed the task of editing that marvellous series of de- spatches, luminous in every page wi",h the saga- city and soldiership of the great chief. A strict dis- ciplinarian, he was never- theless distinguished by a kindly charm of manner that attracted all who ap- proached him ; and was indefatigable in the dis- charge of duty. The one misgiving that occurred to those who knew him, ■)n hearing of his ap- pointment, was whether he still possessed the physical strength and endurance necessary for his arduous office. The French comman- der, in concert with whom he was to act, was Marshal St. Arnaud, an officer who had seen much service in Algeria, but who owed his position chiefly to the fact of having been one of the chief actors in the coup d'etat of December 1851. One circumstance at least rendered the appoint- ment of Marshal St. Arnaud a matter of sur- prise to many. His health was utterly shattered by a painful disease under which he had laboured for years ; and it was hardly probable that he would long survive. The fleet to be sent to the Baltic was under the command of Sir Charles Napier, a cousin of the famous generals, the hero of Scinde, and the chronicler of the Peninsular War. Admiral Napier was a frank, brave sailor of the old bluff school of " sea-dogs." He has been likened to Smollett's Commodore Trunnion. The rough-and-ready fashion in 135 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. which he announced the war to his crew, was the subject of good-humoured comment at the time. " My lads," said the genial old admiral to his assembled ship's company, " war has been declared ; we are to fight the Russians. Sharpen your cutlasses, lads, and the day is ours." He seemed to have little idea of the nature of the work in hand, or of how little the sharpening of cutlasses would avail against the fortresses with which the Russians had guarded their coasts. Admiral Dundas and Sir Edmund Lyons, afterwards Lord Lyons, who commanded in the Black Sea, were men of very different mould ; Lyons, especially, was one in whom there was something of the genius and energy of Nelson ; like him, too, he was adored by his men. The conditions of the combat, however, as will be seen, were unfavourable to naval operations. Defeat of Russia on the Danube ; silistria and glurgevo ; the eng- LISH French, and Turkish Armies AT Gallipoli and Varna. The Russian attempt to invade Turkey from the north proved a failure. The Mus- covite General Paskievitch was obliged, after the loss of many of his men, to abandon his attempt to capture Silistria, on the Danube, and to lead back the remains of his army across the Pruth. The defence of Silistria by a Turkish force, under two Indian officers, Captain Butler and Lieutenant Nasmyth, was the first brilliant episode of the war. At Giurgevo the Russians also suffered a disastrous defeat. That the Turks could fight bravely when well commanded was shown by the heroic resistance they made at Silistria, and their devotion to the brave young Englishmen who led them. " It was impossible," wrote the successor of Lieutenant Nasmyth, quoted by Kinglake, "not to ad- mire the cool indifference of the Turks to danger. Three men were shot in the space of five minutes while throwing up earth for the new parapet, at which only two men could work at a time, so as to be at all pro- tected ; and they were succeeded by the nearest bystander, who took the spade from the dying man's hands, and set to work as calmly as if he were going to cut a ditch by the roadside." An army of 20,000 English- men, under Lord Raglan, and another of about double the number under Marshal St. Arnaud, started for the East. The joint disembarkation of the armies was effected at Gallipoli, on the shore of the Dardanelles, and from the first it appeared that a good understanding would be maintained between the men of the two nations, as also between the officers. Lord Raglan, indeed, met with some difficulty from the encroaching spirit manifested by the French Marshal, who en- deavoured to obtain for himself the command of the Turkish army, which would have placed the English commander at a great disadvantage. But by united firmness and good temper on the part of Lord Raglan and Lord Stratford the difficulty was overcome, and the ambitious Frenchman was kept in check. Another difficulty now occurred. Lord Raglan wished to move the troops to Varna; but St. Arnaud declined, and proposed a scheme of his own for occupying Roumelia, in the rear of the Balkan ; but again", on the firm objection of Lord Raglan, he yielded ; and to Varna, on the eastern shore of the Black Sea, the Anglo-French force was accordingly moved ; and here, it is said, they could at times actually hear the firing at Silistria, where Paskievitch was wildly sacrificing his men in the vain attempt to drive the garrison to surrender. Varna was remembered long afterwards by soldiers and sailors alike for the misfortunes that befell the expedition in that ill-omened place. A tremendous fire that caused the destruction of a great quantity of warlike stores, and even threatened the stock of powder, occurred thereon the loth of August; and presently the terrible plague of modern times, cholera, that ravaged Europe in 1854,. made its appearance in the English and French armies. The site for the encamp- ment at Varna had been badly chosen, and soon proved to be wretchedly unhealthy. The men were seized by hundreds with the dire disease, and perished with alarming rapidity. On board the ships, too, the pesti- lence raged ; and one ship, the Britannia^ lost 105 men in a few weeks. Moreover, Marshal St. Arnaud had marched three divisions of his force into the pestilential regions of the Dobrudscha, at the mouth of the Danube, and the loss of 10,000 men by disease was the result of this measure. Invasion of the Crimea ; The Land- ing AT EUPATORIA. Meanwhile the news of the defence of Silistria and of the discomfiture of Paskie- vitch, had kindled alike in France and England a desire to achieve something great, and to inflict a decisive blow on the pride and ambition of Russia. In the Crimea, the ancient Tauric Chersonesus, a territory ac- quired by Russia in the time of Catherine II., had been built the mighty stronghold of Sebastopol, the great depot of warlike stores for Russia in the Black Sea, and the haven where her fleet could lie sheltered in safety. The invasion of the Crimea and the reduc- tion of Sebastopol was the scheme that now recommended itself to the governments of France and England ; instructions were ac- cordingly sent out to the commanders, and excellent arrangements being made for the 136 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. transport of the troops. The two armies, wofuUy thinned, alas! by the deaths of thousands of brave men from disease, were successfully carried across the Black Sea, and which was effected in admirable order ; only some Cossacks were seen, who quickly vanished ; and the capture of a convoy of cattle was the first advantage gained. But The Exploit of Captain Bell at the Alma. landed on the 17th of September at Eupa- toria, on the west coast, about thirty miles north of the great fortress, and near the banks of the river Alma. No enemy appeared to oppose the landing, here again difficulties had been thrown in the way by St. Arnaud, who seems to have been in continual fear of compromising his dignity by acting under Lord Raglan's direction. He though<^ the safety of the whole expedition m EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. was endangered by any separation of the English and French forces, seeing that the Russians had a large and powerful fleet under the guns of Sebastopol, ready at any moment to swoop down upon the invaders. St. Arnaud had sailed awaj^ with the French forces apart from the English ; but at length, after incur- ring the risk of spoiling the whole plan by his waywardness, he came back, as if ashamed of his petulance, and the fleets proceeded in company, as they should have done at first. It is only fair to say that something of this waywardness in the Marshal must be ascribed to the effects of the disease which was bringing him to his grave. He had but a few days of life left in him when he landed in the Crimea. March towards Sebastopol; The Battle of the Alma. The numbers of the expedition are given as about 30,000 French, 7,000 Turks, and 27,000 English, including 1,000 cavalry, an arm of which the French were destitute. The land- ing had been began on the 14th of September, and was finished within five days. The march of the armies was directed towards Sebastopol. But the Russians, though they had allowed the disembarkation to take place unopposed, were prepared to dispute the advance of the allied forces, and had chosen their own ground with considerable skill. Southward of Eupatoria, where the invaders landed, and consequently across the route to Sebastopol, ran the river Alma ; and on the further side of this river Prince Mentschikoff, the Governor of the Crimea, had advantage- ously posted his force of 30,000 men on the heights, strengthening his position by batteries of cannon and by a great redoubt. On the 19th there was some skirmishing with advanced bodies of Russian cavalry and Cossacks. The great struggle took place on the 20th. Mentschikoff appears to have thought concerning the invaders, as Cromwell expressed himself with regard to Leslie and his men at Dunbar, that " the Lord had de- livered them into his hands." He is said to have boasted that he could, if necessary, maintain his position for three weeks ; and that the Alma would be to the Third Napo- leon and his allies what the Berezina had been to the First. He little knew the men with whom he had to deal. English and French were alike filled with warlike ardour ; though, as testi- fied by the lists of killed and wounded, the former bore the burden and heat of the day. The river was crossed in the face of the astonished Russian army. The English advancing in line, attacked and broke the dense columns of their foes ; and after a stubborn fight of three hours, the great re- doubt was '■aken and maintained, the English flag being planted on it by a brave lad. Ensign Anstruther, who perished in the attempt. Among the men who especially distinguished themselves by their gallantry were the Highland regiments under the com- mand of Sir Colin Campbell, — the 79th and 93rd, and the 42nd, the famous " Black Watch." The brief, soldier-like address of Sir Colin to his brigade on this occasion is eminently characteristic of the man who afterwards had so large a share in saving India in the time of the great mutiny. " Now, men," said the noble-hearted chief, " you are going into action. Remember this. Whoever is wounded, — I don't care v/hat his rank is, — whoever is wounded, must lie where he falls till the bandsmen come to attend to him. No soldier must go carrying off wounded men. If any soldier does such a thing, his name shall be stuck up in his parish church. Don't be in a hurry about firing. Your officers will tell you when it is time to open fire. Be steady. Keep silence. Fire low. Now, men, the army will watch us ; make me proud of the Highland Brigade ! " Various deeds of individual courage achieved on this day have been recorded. Among the most important is the brilliant feat of Captain Bell, of the 23rd regiment, who, when the Russian artillerymen had limbered up, and were carrying off their pieces from the great redoubt, overtook the driver hastening away with a gun, and holding his revolver, which happened to be empty, to the man's head, threatened him with instant death if he did not halt. The terrified Russian slipped out of his saddle and made off; whereupon Captain Bell turned the horse's head towards the English line, and the gun became the prize of the British arrny. The Zouaves distinguished themselves by the dash and spirit they infused into their fighting ; but the French army, it has been generally allowed, was not skilfully handled on that day. Marshal St. Arnaud was wretchedly ill ; and, indeed, only outlived the fight a few days, dying on board the ship that was to convey him to Constan- tinople. After the Alma; March upon Balaclava, The fruits of the victory were chiefly found in the moral effect it created. But it is certain that it was not followed up with sufficient energy. The beaten enemy was allowed to rally too soon, and, indeed, was surprised at not finding itself pursued. One reason of this was in the want of cavalry, another in the reluctance of Lord Raglan to press his men too severely so early in the campaign. Subsequent revelations render it certain that had the allies pushed on at once to Sebas- 138 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. topol, they might have taken the city by a coup de main. But the delay of a few days will sometimes alter the entire aspect of a campaign. In this case it enabled General Mentschikoff, in conjunction with Todleben, the most distinguished engineer of the war, to put the city into a state of defence, and gave the allied army almost a year's hard work, involving the loss of thousands of lives. It has been said by the author of the " History of our own Times" that this battle was a kind of heroic scramble ; and that in a scramble some men are more fortunate than others. On this day one commander was certainly peculiarly unfortunate, namely, Prince Napoleon, whose division became so hopelessly entangled and clubbed in the advance as to be shut out from the conflict, — a circumstance which helped to fix upon its leader the imputa:tion most damaging to the character of a soldier. The reputation of the son of Jerome, King of Westphalia, re- ceived a blow on that day from which it never recovered. The allies meanwhile marched southward ; and the appearance of Sebastopol, with its strong defences, — which had been increased by the throwing-up of new earthworks, while seven ships had been sunk across the entrance of the harbour to secure it from an attack by the fleet, — made them resolve to besiege the city in regular form. Accordingly they esta- blished themselves in camps to the south of the place, where they could co-operate with the fleets, — the English at Balaclava, the French at Kauriesh, — and the communica- tion by sea would enable them to receive reinforcements, supplies of stores, and ammu- nition, and all requisites for the siege without continual molestation from the enemy. First attack on Sebastopol ; Battle OF Balaclava ; Charge of the Light Brigade. The 17th of October, 1854, will always be remembered as a dark day of misfortune and failure in the annals of this war. It had been determined to attack Sebastopol by sea, and to bring all the great resources of the EngUsh and French fleets into play. But in an evil hour Admiral Dundas allowed him- self to be overruled by the French Admiral Hamelin as to the position from which the ships were to commence the attack. Against his better judgment he gave way, and the result was dire failure; the French fire being silenced early in the day, and the English being only just able to maintain theirs throughout the fight, while Fort Constantine defied all their efforts to extinguish its re- sistance ; though the Agamemnojt and the few ships that could be brought to a point whence their fire was effective behaved gloriously. On the 25th of October, a few days later, was fought the celebrated battle of Balaclava. The army of the Russians, strengthened by reinforcements, and encouraged by the issue of the operations on the 17th, — which had convinced the allies that Sebastopol was not to be taken " as King Hal took Teroneune, when he just laid his hand on it and it was done," — made a spirited attack upon the English and French forces in the hope of cutting them off from Balaclava. The Czar's soldiers fought gallantly, as, indeed, they always did throughout the war ; but they lost the day, being everywhere beaten back ; and the battle was considered virtually over when the incident happened that immorta- lised the name of Balaclava in the annals of British heroism, — the famous charge of the Light Brigade. " There came an order that someone had blundered," sings Tennyson in his spirited poem on the Balaclava charge. It appears that Lord Raglan wished to retake a battery that had been taken from some Turks earlier in the day, — for the Turkish contingent in the Crimea were men of a very different stamp from the heroic defenders of Silistria, — and accordingly he sent an order to Lord Lucan, who was in command of the cavalry, ordering a charge upon this battery. To Lord Cardigan, whose duty it was to head the charge, an order was brought from Lord Lucan by a distinguished cavalry officer, Captain Nolan ; and by a lamentable mis- take, which Nolan alone Avould have cleared up. Lord Cardigan was made to believe that the order referred not to the battery taken from the Turks, but to the strong position "half a league onward," where the Russian cannon were posted, at the opposite end of a long valley at a distance of more than a mile. Though naturally amazed at receiving an order that seemed dictated by madness. Lord Cardigan felt himself bound in honour to obey it. As he would have to lead the charge, hesitation or inquiry might be open to an ugly interpre- tation. Accordingly, with the philosophical observation, " Then here goes the last of the Cardigans," he gave the order to mount, and the Light Brigade started on its fatal task. The number of men who rode in that charge consisted of 130 of the 13th Light Dragoons, 145 of the 17th Lancers, 118 of the 4th Light Dragoons, 104 of the 8th Hussars, and no of the nth Hussars, making a total of 607 ; and of these only 198, less than a third, came back into camp. So soon as the brigade was in motion. Captain Nolan, who had carried the order, seems to have seen the misunderstanding. He galloped towards Lord Cardigan, pro- bably to set it right ; but at that moment a round shot struck him full in the chest ; he remained erect in the saddle for a few mo- 139 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. ments, while his horse galloped onward, and then fell to the ground a dead man. Mean- while the Russian batteries on the heights on either side of the valley plied the brigade with grape and canister shot as the English troopers rode past. " Cannon to left of them, cannon to right of them, cannon in front of them, volleyed and thundered." But still they rode on, their ranks continually thinned by the shot that came plunging in among them. Through the iron trail they reached the batteries they deemed themselves ordered to take. It has been rightly described as light cavalry charging an army in position. The batteries were silenced, those of the gunners who did not find safety in flight being sabred at their guns ; and then the sur- vivors of that gallant but wholly unneces- sary exploit turned round and rode back to their own army, having once more to run the gauntlet of the flanking batteries as they passed. " Long shall the tale be told, how they rode onward ! " It was a piece of heroism worthy of the comrades of Leo- nidas at Thermopylae. The brave men had no choice but to obey orders. But the reflection will always remain that their lives were needlessly sacrificed. The comment of the French general, who declared the whole affair " very mag- nificent but not war," was perhaps the best criticism on the Balaclava charge. Newspaper Corres- pondents : Mr. Rus- sell OF THE " Times " ; Outspoken Criticism Thus on the 25th of October the Russian ariuy that endeavoured to relieve Sebastopol was driven back ; on the following day a great sortie from the city was repulsed ; and the siege went on in regular form. And here for the first time was introduced an element that has since become a feature of every great war, but which would have considerably startled the great Duke, and would probably have excited in him disgust and indignation. The public at home, who took the keenest interest in every detail of the strife, were kept accurately informed of the course of events by theletters of correspondents despatched by the newspaper proprietors to the seat of war. Among these gentlemen, Mr. William Howard Russell, the representative of the Tijnes, was facile princeps j and his graphic and faithful narrative was interspersed William Howard Russell. with outspoken and not always favourable criticism, for which there was more than need. The war had been undertaken, as it were, in the dark. The old routine of the com- missariat department, the medical arrange- ments, the arrangements for the supply of war material and stores, everything, in fact, except the fighting, belonged to a past age, and was entirely inadequate to the needs of the time. Close upon the tidings of the Alma victory, which were received with an outburst of delight, the more vehement and hearty because they gave a triumphant re- futation to the " nation of shopkeepers " theory, came news of a very different kind, — stories of entirely preventible and unnecessary want and hardship suffered by our brave troops, — of lamentably defective hospital arrange- ments, and an unaccount able absence of the medi- cal and surgical appliances and of those comforts for the sick which the com- monest forethought and care ought to have provi- ded. It was reported how a large consignment of saddles for the cavalry had been despatched to one port, while the correspond- ing bridles were consigned to another; how a large shipment of boots, anxi- ously awaited for the soldiers, who were almost barefoot, were found, on their arrival, to be all for the left foot ; how a large cargo of coffee had been sent out without any appli- ances for roasting the beans^ which were served out raw to the troops ; and how, in fact, the commissariat and other departments had broken down lamentably, — and how, through the ignorance and neglect of responsible persons, far more men were being sacrificed in hospital and in camp than fell beneath the fire of the enemy. These things aroused in England a feeling of profound grief and anger ; and much of this anger displayed itself against the Govern- ment. Lord Aberdeen was known to have been opposed to the war from the beginning; and rightly or wrongly was suspected of pursuing it with a languor that was ominous of failure. By the beginning of the next year it was generally known that military and official red-tapeism and incapacity were, like devouring monsters, destroying our soldiers ; that, as the Times forcibly expressed it, " Balaclava was a cemetery, and Scutari a 140 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. pest-house;" and Mr. Roebuck gave notice in Parliament for a committee of investiga- tion. The Ministry " of all the talents," as it was called, opposed this application ; and on a division the Governm.ent sustained such a defeat that resignation followed as a matter of course, and Lord Palmerston, who was known to be heart and soul against the Russians, came into power, thus gaining a great triumph over Lord John Russell, who had dismissed him from the Cabinet on the coup d'etat question just three years before. The Battle of Inkermann ; Soldier- ship AND Generalship. But in the meantime a great battle — one of those soldiers' battles on which the country looks with especial pride, as proofs that the fighting power of the race has not decreased with the increase of ease and the conveniences of life in every class — had been won outside the walls of Sebastopol. On the 8th of November an unusual stir had been noticed by the men in the trenches to be going on within the beleagured city. There was much drumming and trumpeting among the be- sieged ; and at times the shouts of men and the Russian "hourra" were heard. This seemed to portend some design in progress. Those who had judged thus were right. Early on the morning of the 9th, an outpost sentry at the quarries of Inkermann, at the extremity of the English camp, heard what seemed to be the footsteps of a number of men approaching through the gloom. He fired his musket, and rushed to alarm the camp. It was an attack in force by an army of 50,000 Russians, under General Liprandi ; and for hours there were only about 8,000 men, consisting of the Guards and three line regiments, to oppose the whole weight of the Russian onset. And on this occasion the Muscovites fought with a more grim per- sistency than ever. They had been inflamed to fury by the impassioned addresses of their officers, and by copious draughts of fiery spirit. Thus the struggle on the plateau of Inkermann was tremendous. As Wellington said of Waterloo, " it was a battle of giants." Of strategy and generalship there was simply none. The whole affair was a surprise. The soldiers saw the dark masses of their foes before them, and simply " went for " the long grey great-coats and black helmets, bringing down their foes as they best could, with bayonet thrusts, with clubbed muskets, and even with big stones seized up in the quarries and hurled at the advancing columns. The terrible inequality of the battle was at length ended by the arrival of a large body of French troops under General Bosquet; and the Russian anriy retired sullenly within the precincts of the beleagured city. having lost, it is said, 12,000 men. The English loss was estimated at 2,600, with nearly 150 officers ; that of the French about 1,700. Inkermann was emphatically the great hand-to-hand struggle of the war, beginning before daylight, and lasting until the short November day was closing in. The Times' chronicler sums it up in a few- words, as "the memorable battle of Inker- mann, with its surprise, so little honourable to our general and the officers of his staff ; its combats so glorious to our soldiers ; and its results so fatal to the enemy and so memorable to us." It was a tremendous lesson to the foe as to what the British soldier can do, when he has to fight for his life against overwhelming odds. The Terrible Winter of 1854-55, The news of the splendid fight of Inker- mann restored the courage of those weaker brethren at home who had begun to despond, and it seemed ungrateful to doubt for a moment the issue of a struggle in which we had such noble champions. But the diffi- culties of the army were only beginning ; through the winter that began soon after, every form of want and suffering became familiar to our troops. " The army has been suffering in patience and in silence the most fatal and unnecessary misery," was the asser- tion of the leading journal, and the fact was too patent to be contradicted. The winter of 1854 was one of unusual severity, and was ushered in on the shores of the Crimea by such a tempest as even the stormy Euxine in the roughest season of the year could seldom show. This storm made havoc of the camp, carrying away the men's tents, throwing down the wooden buildings in which large quantities of stores had been piled up ; and on the waters it spread destruction far and wide among the transports and store- ships, many of which were sunk, some of them with their crews as well as their costly freight. The winter came upon the soldiers while they were still without warm clothing, nourish- ing food, medical stores, and general neces- saries ; and the most lamentable part of the business was, that this want and misery re- sulted mainly from mismanagement. Bala- clava, the seaport, is eight miles from the camp ; and while the fine weather lasted a road should have been made. This had been neglected, and had now become impossible ; and thus, while the ships in harbour were laden with stores, the camp was starving. " Within eight miles of them are clothes, food, materials for house building, fuel, and many other comforts," said Russell's account ; " but the soldiers have been in rags, have been placed on half-rations, have been reduced to burrow in the ground for shelter, and driven to the utmost extremity to obtain \\\ EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. firewood from a surface of land saturated with rain. There have been guns and am- munition in abundance at Balaclava, while the siege has been interrupted for want of guns and ammunition." Indeed, during the winter months the siege became little more than a blockade ; but still the men were patient and uncomplaining, and showed an admirable disposition, in which their officers set them a good example of making the best of very untoward circumstances. One very healthy symptom was noticed among all this dismal category of inefficiency and blunder- ing. When it became patent that the military departments at home and the general system had hopelessly broken down, there was no disposition to hide or to excuse any of the blunders. On the contrary, open discussion, outspoken criticism, and in many cases un- qualified censure became the order of the day. In France, where, on the other hand, the only news that might be published from the seat of war was officially communicated by the Government, and every newspaper editor and proprietor lived in dread of the terrible " three warnings " or avertissemenls, after which his paper was liable to be suppressed, the condition of the French army, its be- haviour, and every particular concerning it, were described in the most hopeful fashion ; and, indeed, the Continent wondered at the revelations of incompetency and want of system voluntarily avowed in England. But there was another side to all this. Errors once frankly avowed in the face of the whole nation were sure to be quickly corrected ; and it was not likely now that the country knew the truth that the mistakes of that fatal winter would be repeated. An Unexpected Event; Continuance OF THE War. At the beginning of March 1855, a piece of news was flashed across Europe that took the nations by surprise and gave rise to various conjectures regarding the further prosecution of the war. The Emperor Nicholas was dead. That restless, ambitious man, who had spilt the blood of his subjects hke water, and had deemed a seventh part of the world too small an empire to suffice him, had passed away from the scene of his labours and his crimes, before it was even generally known that he was sick. The immediate and osten- sible cause of his death was congestion of the lungs, brought on by an attack of influ- enza. But to say that the autocrat of all the Russias died of a broken heart would be not far from the truth. For more than a quarter of a century his policy had been a prepara- tion for the great game he had at last played and lost. Incessant anxiety, strenuous ex- ertion, and bitter disappointment had all contributed to break down that colossal frame ; and the news of another baffled attempt of his army is said to have finished the ruin that overwork and hidden despaii had begun. Never had a ruler so completely sown the wind to reap the whirlwind. It was at first expected that his successor, Alexander II., would gladly seize this oppor- tunity to put an end to a war for which he was not responsible. But not even a Russian autocrat is so entirely despotic that he can afford to slight the wishes and outrage the feelings of the great mass of his subjects. Russia had been deeply humiliated by the defeat during the war, to which, moreover, something of a religious character had been imparted by the manifesto of the Czar. There were strong hopes that the fall of Sebastopol might be averted ; and in view of the doubt- ful state in which affairs then stood, the new Czar could not without risking his throne accede to a peace in which he would have to yield points of importance. Accordingly, with the spring active operations were re- sumed, and the prospect of a termination to the war seemed as remote as ever. The Emperor Nicholas seems to have cherished a hope that the siege of Sebastopol would be abandoned at the setting in of the Russian winter. He had been accus- tomed to say that Russia had two generals on whom she could rely, — General January and General February ; and the disappoint- ment of this hope was finely illustrated at the time by the genius of John Leech the artist, who in a cartoon in Punch, entitled, "General Fevrier turned traitor," represented Death in the Russian uniform laying his icy hand, not on the foes of the Czar, but on the Emperor himself. General February had turned his weapons against the monarch who claimed him as an ally. Affairs assumed a better aspect with re- gard to the army as the winter passed away. Strenuous exertions were made to remedy the evils that had caused the collapse, and gradually such improvements were made that operations could be resumed with vigour. Among the reforms carried out, none were more important than the improvements in hospital management, and in the important science of nursing the sick. These improve- ments are due in a great measure to the energy and self-devotion of Miss Florence Nightingale, a lady who had made all questions connected with nursing in hospi- tals a subject of study for many years, and had gained practical experience of the work- ing of various institutions at home and abroad. Mr. Sidney Herbert, the Secretary for War, induced Miss Nightingale to proceed to the East with some ladies qualified and willing to act under her directions, and a staff of reliable and skilful nurses. The hospital at Scutari soon assumed a very 142 FROM ALMA TO SEBASTOPOL. different appearance, dirt and confusion dis- appeared, and for the first time it was fully recognised that sanitary hygiene and thought- fiil care and tending of the sick have at least as much to do with the chances of recovery as medical skill. It is hardly possible to overestimate the value of the work done by Miss Nightingale and her devoted band of gentle English ladies during the Crimean The Baltic Fleet; Bomarsund; Hango ; The Black Sea Fleet; The Straits OF Yenikale. The naval operations of the war had, on the whole, until now, occasioned disappointment, though that disappointment seems to have been based partly on a somewhat vague esti- mate of what the ships were really expected to effect, and upon the glorious traditions of such fights as Camperdown, the Nile, and Trafalgar. A repetition of such triumphs was not to be hoped for in the present war, because the Russian fleets would never, either in the Baltic or in the Black Sea, run the hazard of a general engagement. In the one case the ships took refuge in the harbour of Sebastopol ; in the other they were safely ensconced behind the batteries of Cronstadt. The " Thrasonical brag " of Admiral Napier had accordingly little relevance to the actual state of affairs. The one great thing that must have cast lustre on his name would have been an attack on the Russian fleet, and its capture or destruction in spite of the fortifications of Cronstadt. There were different opinions as to the feasibility of such a scheme ; but at any rate Sir Charles did not attempt it. Afterwards, as Member of Parliament for Southwark, he made a violent onslaught on the First Lord of the Admiralty, Sir James Graham, on whom he laid the blame that , not more had been done. Sir James was not slow to retort, and hinted at incapacity in the commander as the reason why the Baltic fleet, reviewed before its departure by the Oueen in person, and furnished with every appliance of modern warfare, had brought home so few trophies. The country, perhaps unreasonably impatient, seemed inclined to divide the blame equally between both ; and there was much laughter at Punc/i's clever picture of " The great mud-flinging match be- tween Charlie Pot and Jamie Kettle." Yet the naval operations in the north were not without their value. The destruction of Bomarsund, a stronghold intended to be for the Baltic what Sebastopol was for the Black Sea, put an end to a menacing danger ; and the injury inflicted on the enemy by the capture of merchant ships and the stop- page of his maritime trade, suggested many i useful scruples as to the peril of provoking a dangerous enemy. An incident that called forth a shout of execration was the so-called massacre of Hango Head, where a boat's crew rowing ashore under a flag of truce was treacherously fired upon by Russian soldiers, and some of its occupants killed, in defiance of the laws of civilized warfare. Far more important, however, were the operations of the Black Sea fleet. The first attempt at bombarding Sebastopol from the sea was, as we have seen, a failure ; and the action of the Russians in sinking ships at the mouth of the harbour between Forts Paul and Constantine, pre- cluded all chance of a stand-up fight, such as took place when the French and Spanish men of war came sailing out of Cadiz Bay in 1805 ; but the sailors, formed into a naval brigade, had done very valuable service on shore ; and the fleet itself, by forcing the Straits of Yenikale, between the Black Sea and the Sea of Azov, by the subsequent taking of Kertch, and the destruction of an immense amount of stores considered by the enemy to be in complete safety, had been of great and signal use. Another ally had also joined the Western Confederacy. This was the King of Sardinia, who, acting under the advice of Count Cavour, proceeded to establish a claim on the consideration and gratitude of the English and French nations by sending a force to co-operate in the great work then in hand. The Piedmontese soldiery were fortunate in having an opportunity of proving their gallantry, when their position at Traktir Bridge, on the Tchernaya, was fiercely attacked by the enemy, in a desperate attempt to raise the siege, on August i6th ; and the gallantry with which they behaved greatly raised the nation and the cause they represented in the opinion of Europe, and gained for the kingdom of Sardinia a place at the council-board of European sovereigns when the articles of peace came to be dis- cussed. Operations of 1855 ; The j8th of June ; Renewed Efforts ; Fall of Sebas- topol. Early in 1855 Lord John Russell was despatched on a mission to Vienna, to en- deavour to bring about a peace on condi- tions that should guarantee the integrity of Turkey, and limit the pretentions and check the ambition of Russia. The negotia- tion failed entirely ; and Lord John Russell himself was very severely criticised and driven from office, on the ground that he had advocated at Vienna a policy he after- wards denounced in the House of Commons. His reputation as a statesman suffered great damage ; for the English are rather disposed at all times to forgive injudicious counsel 143 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. manfully persisted in than a weak halting between two opinions. The visit of the Emperor and Empress of the French to London, where they were received with the most cordial hospitality by the Queen and the Prince Consort, seemed a token that the Anglo-French alliance was in a healthy condition, and the cotip d'etat for- gotten. At the beginning of June the allies thought the time was at hand for striking a decisive blow, and putting an end to the tremendous labours of the protracted siege. On the 7th of that month an important outwork, the Mamelon, and another important post, were captured ; and arrangements were made for a general attack on the i8th, a day con- sidered to be of good omen, for it was the fortieth anniversary of Waterloo. But the attempt, though followed up with the most self-sacrificing gallantry, was repulsed by the stubborn foe ; and the shock of this misfortune, acting on a frame weakened by long and strenuous exertions and by sleep- less anxiety, brought on an illness which carried oft Lord Raglan with terrible sudden- ness. The regret at the loss of a brave and devoted chief was increased by the unhappy favouritism that was allowed to prevail in the choice of his successor. General Simp- son, who now became Commander-in-Chief in the Crimea, had not a single qualification, except seniority, for the important post assigned to him. And, indeed, one of the greatest advantages gained through the Crimean war was the conviction forced upon England that family influence and wealth and military traditions must no longer be allowed to bar the way to merit ; that the system of " taking care of Dowb " (an expression borrowed from a telegram that was sent to head- quarters at the same time with the intelUgence of General Simpson's appointment to the command, and meant that an officer named Dowbiggin was to have something done for him) was a per- nicious one, unworthy of a great nation. The disastrous effect of the appointment of General Simpson was quickly seen when the question of a new attack upon Sebastopol came to be discussed ^ After the death of Marshal St. Arnaud the command of the French army had devolved upon General Canrobert, who, feeling himself unequal to its responsibilities, had resigned it in favour of General Pelissier, a veteran whose skill had been proved in Algeria, where his Imputation for humanity, however, had suffered grave injury by the suffocation ol some hundreds of Arabs in the caves ot Dahra. The Mamelon, held by the French, was but a few yards from the important Malakoff tower, a most important position. On the other hand, the Rifle pits, the posi- tion gained by the English, was a long distance from the Redan battery, which it was their task to take, and during the whole way the attacking force would be exposed to a withering fire. It was felt that General Simpson erred gravely in thus allowing an almost impossible task to be allotted to his army, while the French had only to attack a point within fifteen yards of their trenches. The result was as might have been antici- pated. The French succeeded in their attack on the Malakoff, over whose tower the tri- color was soon waving. The English attacked the Redan most gallantly, succeeded in mounting the parapet, but could not esta- blish themselves in the place, for the sup- ports urgently required to back up their attack were not sent. General Simpson would attempt nothing more that day, alleging that the trenches were too crowded ; but in spite of wretched generalship, the task of the allied armies at Sebastopol was done. The bombardment of the last few days had terribly shattered the place , and Prince Gortchakoff, conscious that it was no longer tenable, moved his army from the south to the north side in the night on a bridge of boats, leaving the city a heap of ruins. With the taking of Sebastopol the war virtually ended, although the Treaty of Paris, by which it was definitely closed, was not signed until the 30th of March, 1856. The chief stipulations were : That the integrity ot . the Turkish Empire should be acknowledged ; the navigation of the Danube thrown open ; the principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia were to be placed under the protection of the Western Powers ; but the article that j chiefly hurt the pride of Russia, — a clause, I indeed, from which she has contrived at a i later period to shake herself free, — declared ; that the Black Sea should be neutralised, its navigation being open to the merchant ships of all nations, but to the armed fleets of none. H. W. D. Tti'y The Old South Sea House, Threadneedle Street, London. THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE THE STORY OF A SPECULATIVE MANIA. " See Britain sunk in Lucre's foetid charms, And France revenged of Anne and Edward's arms." How the Bubble Rose — The South Sea Company — The Bait held out — John Law in France — The Mississippi Scheme — Excitement in Paris — Excesses and Speculations — Failure of tiie Mississippi Scheme — Fate of Law — Reverses — Plan to Pay the English National Debt — The Bank and the South Sea Company — Passing of the Bill — The Race for Wealth — A Cloud of Bubbles — The South Sea Scheme in excelsis — The Beginning of the End— Fraud — A Falling Off — Ruin and Retribution — Nemesis. them, How THE Bubble Rose. E will here place two instances of public credulity together ; although the circumstances of each are difte- rent, yet there is a similarity between inasmuch as the subscribers to the " Mississippi Scheme " and the " South Sea Bubble " were all and severally actuated by the same idea — love of gold, a desire to make money. " Gold," we are told in the opera of Roberto ilDiavolo, "is a chimera." Perhaps ; at any rate it has a great many followers, and if, like a " Will-o'-the-Wisp," the desired property escape the grasp of the pursuer, he will never believe he was in error. The " luck " was against him — neither his common sense nor his own action was at fault ; his greed did not lead him to plunge madly into speculation. No ; he was tempted. Yet our first parents could and did plead so much. The serpent beguiled them ; the Golden Calf has wondrous power of attraction too. 145 The notorious South Sea Company had its origin in the fertile brain of Harley, Earl of Oxford. The Ministry (Whigs) had been overthrown, and a large deficit appeared likely in the public accounts, — for the credit of the nation was not of the best in 171 1. There had been many troubles in the latter period of Anne's reign. Harley himself had been stabbed by Guiscard ; a few weeks after his re-appearance he was created Earl of Oxford. The Government and Court had fallen into a most degraded state at this time. Bribery and corruption, intrigues and ma- noeuvres of all kinds were rife, and when occasionally some good action appeared it was brought about by base and unworthy means. Such was the state of things when Harley proposed to put public credit right by providing for the Army and Navy expenses, and for the floating National Debt of ten millions. A Company was formed, and the merch- ants who composed it agreed to take all the responsibility if the Government would gua- l EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. rantee them 6 per cent. This arrangement was agreed to ; and in order to secure them- selves certain permanent duties were imposed. The duties upon silks, tobacco, wines, and certain other articles were appropriated to pay off the guaranteed interest, and then the South Sea Company became an accomplished fact. Harley dangled the bait of riches from Spanish seas in the eyes of the creditors. People had heard of the riches of the territo- ries beyond the sea, and every one fancied that when the Company had obtained the mono- poly of trading thither the gains would be enormous. So they would have been, no doubt, had the Company possessed the desired permission. However, the Company was in- corporated ; it was entitled by Act of Parlia- ment as "The Governor and Company of Merchants of Great Britain trading to the South Seas and other parts of America." But the English Minister had reckoned without Philip of Spain. By the Peace of Utrecht, negociated under Lord Bolingbroke, the Assiefito, or privilege to supply the Spaniards in South America with negro slaves from Africa, had been ceded to England in- stead of remaining with France; but Philip did not see the use of extending trading permis- sion to his rivals. The contract was limited to the despatch of one vessel a year with a cargo of goods, and this privilege with the Assiento was handed over to the South Sea Company by the Government. The King of Spain likewise imposed hard conditions upon the concession, and Oxford and his party were greatly incensed and disappointed at the turn of affairs. Nevertheless, the public supported the South Sea Company, although the first cargo could not sail till 1717 ; but after all nothing came of the arrangement, for England and Spain fell out (in 17 18), and the South Sea Company's factories were sup- pressed and their agents cast into prison. Things looked serious when Parliament met in 17 1 7, and King George pointedly referred to the state of public finance in his speech, and recommended that some decisive mea- sures should be adopted to reduce or extin- guish the National Debt. The Bank of England and the South Sea Company each came forward as the most entirely disinter- ested saviour of their country, and made certain proposals to Parliament. The latter Company offered to accept a reduction of interest to 5 per cent, if their capital of ten millions were increased to twelve. " The House debated for some time, and finally three Acts were passed called the South Sea Act, the Bank Act, and the General Fund Act. By the first the proposals of the South Sea Company were accepted, and that body held itself ready to advance the sum of two millions towards discharging principal and interest of the debt due by the State. By the second Act the Bank received a lower rate of interest for the sum of ^1,775,027 \z,s. due to it by the State, and agreed to deliver up to her cancelled as many Exchequer Bills as amounted to two millions sterling, and to accept of an annuity of ^100,000, being after the rate of 5 per cent., the whole redeem- able at one year's notice. They were further required to be ready to advance in case of need a sum not exceeding ^2,500,000 upon the same terms of 5 per cent, interest, redeemable by Parliament. The General Fund Act recited the various deficiencies which were to be made good by the aids derived from the foregoing sources."* John Law in France. It was just about this time that Law was reaping the fruits of his Mississippi scheme in France. The Rue Ouincampoix was the meeting-place for all classes of society. John Law had the control of all the State finances, and had created the Royal Bank of France. Favoured by the Regent, notes were manu- factured, and the whole country was inun- dated with a paper currency, and, notwith- standing the opposition of the Parliament, Law prospered. In 17 19 a grant was made to the Mississippi Company of the exclusive privilege of trading to India, China, and the South Seas, and to all the French possessions. New shares were created, and such a brilliant prospect was held before the public, that the applications for these new shares numbered six times the amount of the issue. The Rue Ouincampoix was daily and nightly besieged by applicants. No one could drive up, for the people blocked every approach. The grand dames had to come on foot ; courtesy was put aside ; ladies were elbowed by mer- chants, servants, and Churchmen. There was no respect of persons. The thirst for gold had seized upon all alike ; and as in the desert men will fight for a drop of water, so in the Rue Quincampoix they jostled and fought for the approach to a Scotch adventurer. Buying and selling was the order of the day. Jewels, title-deeds, private papers, even con- tracts were carried to the Bank premises to be changed into scrip. Anything that would fetch money was carried there, and from six in the morning until nine at night, the pressure and struggling of the maddened crowd almost exceeded belief. Soldiers were employed to clear the street, thieves came boldly forward and robbed many a grande dame of all she had in the world. Law, of course, was all-powerful, and the most extraordinary tales are related of the manner in which high-born ladies schemed and plotted for an introduction. One told her coachman to upset the carriage when * Mackay 146 THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE. he perceived Mi'. Law approaching, and for many days the opportunity did not occur. At length the desired occasion arose ; the coachman acted faithfully, the carriage was injured, Law came to the lady's assistance, and ushered her into his house. Once there the lady confessed the stratagem, and became a subscriber to the Mississippi Stock. On another occasion a lady raised an alarm of fire, and caused Law and the other guests to hurry away from table. The alarmist, however, "went for" the financier, who, seeing the danger (of the interview), and perceiving the plan, hurried away in an opposite direction. The state of things in Paris can hardly be realized now. Many servants, and amongst them even Law's own coachman, made large sums of money by gambling. Thousands of new shares were created, and hundreds of thousands could have been disposed of " There was paper enough afloat to build a church as high as Notre Dame," said the people. Payments in specie were forbidden if above the value often louis, and before very long all cash circu- lation had virtually come to an end, and any one who was suspected of retaining sums of money was denounced by friends or ac- quaintance or servants. A son actually laid information against his father, and it is a significant commentary upon the low state of public morality to relate that public in- dignation was aroused against the Regent because, instead of rewarding the miserable informer, the Due d'Orleans caused him to be arrested. One day the Due was himself called upon by the President Vernon, who said that he had come to lay information against a man who was keeping back five hundred thousand livres. The Regent was very indignant, but justly rebuked the President. "Ah!" he said, " you are descending to a sorry trade in informing me of such a thing." The Presi- dent smiled grimly as he answered, " I denounce myself only; the money is mine — at my house ; if my money is for the King's service it no longer belongs to anybody, and I prefer gold to the Controller's notes." But though there was a certain farcical side to the assumption of the many beggars so suddenly put upon horseback, and although suddenly enriched tradesmen and artificers gave themselves airs, the losses of others were the cause of great crimes. The Count d'Horn and a friend actually murdered a broker for his money. The crowd demanded vengeance, and it was satisfied. Notwith- standing the appeals and interest made for the young man — notwithstanding his youth and good looks and all his pride of race — he suffered. Philip of Orleans, although con- nected by ties of kindred with the assassin, permitted the law to take its course, and made no efibrt to save the homicide. He and his accomplice were broken on the wheel in the Place de Greve ; a terrible punishment and a warning. Until the opening of the year 1720 the tide of extravagance continued to flow in Paris. No one seemed to heed the warning that paper money alone must ere long ruin the public credit, and bring destruction and ruin upon speculators, and even lead France to bankruptcy. Now and then some specula- tor would carefully take his notes to the Bank and get cash for them, then investing the proceeds in diamonds, send his wealth away in safe keeping, or remit it to England till the bubble had burst. For there were not wanting signs that the great financier's scheme was beginning to collapse. An application was made by the Prince of Conte for some Indian stock, and Law, who con- sidered himself a far greater person, declined to oblige 'the Prince. The latter was very indignant, and at once demanded the value of his shares in specie. Three carts were sent to the Bank, and the money was carried awayjn open day. This gave the people a hint, and many brokers acted upon it ; but the " many headed " populace declined to sell, and blamed the Prince of Conte for his ill-judged call. De Conte was personally unpopular, while Law was then in high favour. Had he not enriched Paris, given an impulse to trade, and made hundreds of fortunes ? Law applied to the Regent com- plaining of DeConte's action, and so influenced Orleans that he peremptorily desired the Prince to refund two-thirds of his money to the Bank, and De Conte was compelled to comply. But the stone had been taken from the foundation, and could not be replaced in its former position. The Bank began to feel the want of support, and as smaller deposits were reclaimed day by day, soon a feeling of distrast crept in, and the public, as liable to panic as to the hope of gain, began to feel uneasy. Specie was becoming scarce, money was being sent out of the country, and notwithstanding an edict published which declared coin to be 10 per cent, below the value of paper, the latter did not obtain any accession of confidence. The natural consequences now began to show themselves. People retained what little gold they possessed, paper was not sufficient to keep trade going, and a desperate expedient was at length resorted to by Law. He prevailed upon the Regent to forbid specie payments. This was the most un- popular edict that could have been promul- gated. People were denounced if tliey were seen with even a golden "louis," and the whole country was speedily ripe for revolution. The value of paper money was entirely destroyed, and no one was permitted to purchase any 147 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. precious stones or to retain more than ;^20 sterling (five hundred Hvres) in his posses- sion in specie. Things could not exist long, and a bold stroke was commanded. Shares in the Bank and the paper notes were declared to be only one-half their full value. This was a rough-and-ready mode of equalis- ing matters, as it had been ascertained that there was twice as much paper in the country as there was coin. Failure of the Mississippi Scheme. The Parliament declined to pass the sug- gested edict and to reduce the value of the currency, and the notes were accordingly declared of full value again. On that edict being promulgated, the Bank stopped pay- ment ; then Law was dismissed, and most terrible scenes were enacted. People rushed to the Bank demanding specie, and were refused payment. Cries and curses with scenes of violence prevailed. The cashiers through the iron gratings could only endeavour to appease the multitude, and fortunate it was for the Bank officials that they were protected by the gratings. Still the con- sternation and fury of the people increased, A man fell and was at once trampled to death. Ere long two others equally unfortunate succumbed, and a cry of horror arose from the crowd as the three dead bodies were carried to the Palais Royal to be exhibited to the Regent as his handiwork. Meanwhile Law had presented himself at the Palace, and had been denied admittance. He hastened home, and barely escaped the vengeance of the populace. His hotel was attacked, and his family assailed in the streets. A guard was despatched to preserve the house from attack, but even the sturdy Swiss found their protection unavailing, and Law was removed to the Regent's apartments under arrest to save him from the vengeance of the people. Neither the Regent nor the King's name could quell the popular excitement so long as the author of it was vcv the country and a Director of the Royal Bank. It is related that he even persuaded the Regent that the finances could be restored, and laid many plans before the Due with that object. The Regent seemed to believe the financier, and even took him to the opera to show his confidence in him. But when the audience perceived the Scotchman in the Royal box they testified their indignation in no measured terms, and Law thought it more prudent to withdraw. He retired before the performance came to a close, and hurried away to Fresnes to find the ex-Chancellor, D'Aguesseau, who had been formerly dismissed for opposing the Mississippi scheme. His aid was now sought, and people had great faith in his honesty of purpose and in his capability for restoring the public credit. But even his 148 influence was not sufficiently great, and disorder still reigned. D'Aguesseau was brought to Paris, and the unpopular edicts concerning the posses- sion of money were immediately rescinded. Any one could keep what money he pleased. Thus a feeling of security was established, and a project was set on foot to dispose of the discredited notes. Twenty-five millions of new notes were made at 2k, per cent., the revenues of the city of Paris being pledged for their redemption ; the Bank's paper was called in and burned in front of the Hotel de Ville, to the great delight of the spectators and holders of new notes. The Bank was then opened again, and coin was provided to pay off the notes when tendered. The market for rates of bonds was in the Place Vendome, and there men and women fought and struggled to obtain the money. Silver and copper was paid away by the Bank, and had to be carried somehow, incon- venient though it was. " On the 9th of July the multitiade was so dense and clamorous that the guards stationed at the entrance of the Mazarin Gardens closed the gate and refused to admit any more. Ths crowd became in- censed, and flung stones through the railings upon the soldiers. The latter threatened to fire upon the people. At that instant one of them was hit by a stone, and taking up his piece he fired into the crowd. One man fell dead, and another was severely wounded. It was every instant expected that a general attack would have been made upon the Bank '' (Mackay). The progress of the popular measures is ex- pressed in the following rhyme, translated by the writer from a French ballad sung in the streets about this time, and quoted in "Scenes Historiques." "Monday shares I had obtained — Tuesday millions I had gained : Wednesday furniture I bought — Thursday I a carriage sought : Friday eve I gave a ball. And next day was in hospital !" This is but a sample of the many epigrams and ballads which were sung at the time. Of course also numerous caricatures were printed and eagerly purchased. In all ot these Law, or '*Lass" as he was called in French, was subjected to torment and oblo- quy in various ways. And so Paris amused herself while bleeding from many national wounds inflicted. Law wisely kept indoors, or when he did leave his apartments it was in a closed carriage or surrounded by a guard of soldiers. In October the whole of the Mississippi Company's privileges were with- drawn, and as a consequence the share- holders were called upon to pay up the full value of their holdings. This they declined to do, and many attempted to escape ; some succeeded, but the majority of the would-be THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE. travellers were arrested, and the most strin- gent application of the law was directed to be imposed upon them. Law a Fugitive. The author of all the prosperity and its terrible reaction speedily discovered that France was not the land in which he could any longer dwell in safety. .His life even was not secure from day to day, and he requested permission to retire to the country. The Regent assented, and even offered Law money to leave the country. This the latter refused, and departed to Venice. Law said at that last trying interview with the Regent, " I confess I have committed many faults. I committed them because I am a man, and all men are liable to error ; but I declare to you most solemnly that none of them pro- ceeded from wicked or dishonest motives, Louis XIV., who rejected it. Law went into Italy and studied his monetary schemes, fully believing in them himself. Circumstances favoured him, and the confusion which reigned in France gave him the opening he had long desired. He presented himself to the Regent and was favourably received. The Due d'Orleans disliked trouble, business was a worry and a care. Law put his schemes before him and would save him all the trouble of financing, and finally a bank under the title of Law's Bank was established. This was the first round of the ladder, and the Scotchman stepped boldly upon it. He paid notes on demand and in current coin — that is, in the coin current at the time the issue was made. At that time specie deteriorated in some cases very suddenly, and therefore when Law paid full value, no matter what the market value was, his fame as a public Statesmen of the " Bubble" Period. and that nothing of the kind will be found in the whole course of my conduct." Many people have condemned Law as a knave and as a man who took good care of himself and raised a fortune upon the ruins of other people's wealth. He has been called hard names, and an adventurer he doubtless was, — a gambler certainly. From his youth up he had been vain and ambitious and a favourite with woman-kind. Chronicles tell us that he was at one time named " Beau Law " by women, and sneered at by men as " Jessamy John." He was a most successful gambler, and in the favour of ladies of all classes Law made the most decided ad- vances or they were made to him. In con- sequence of one of these affairs he was challenged to a duel, and shot his adversary dead. Law was thereupon arrested, but managing to escape, he hastened to France, where he proposed a financial scheme to benefactor rose high. His notes superseded coin, and were valued more highly ; the country felt they had a man of genius to guide them. Prosperity again peeped in, and commerce held up its head. The Regent was delighted, and favoured Law in every way. Then the great Mississippi Scheme was broached. Its rise and progress and its fall we have sketched. John Law fled from France, and left it, as has been declared, " almost a beggar." He certainly possessed no property out of France except what personal effects and jewels he took with him. Everything he had possessed was confiscated, and nothing would have pleased the people more than his arrest and execution. To say that he was not desirous of wealth and power would be absurd. He was ambitious, and brought his undoubted financial talent to bear upon the confused state of things in France. He found a remedy 149 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. but he was too sanguine, and fell, as he thought, a victim to the enmity of the people. Whatever may be advanced against him, it must be confessed that he seems to have believed in the success of his plans ; and it is certain that he died in poverty and obscurity. He was the cause of no advantages that he did not share, it is true ; but when the reaction set in he willingly went with the tide, and did not seek to enrich himself at the expense of those who have been called his victims. He seems to have entertained some hope that after all he might be recalled to France to heal the financial troubles of that country, but when the Regent died all such hope, if he seriously relied upon it, was taken away. He passed some time in England after the breaking of the South Sea Bubble, but finally retired to Venice, where, in the year 1729, he died in poverty. The following epitaph was written upon him : " Here lies the celebrated Scot, an unequalled financier, who by his rules of Algebra crippled France." The original was written in verse, and in French, thus : — " Ci git cet Ecossais celebre Ce calculateur sans egal Qui, par les regies d'Algebre A mis la France a I'hopital." Now we may pass from the Mississippi Scheme to English affairs. A Plan to Pay the National Debt. It was while John Law was holding his Court in Paris, and his clients were struggling who should be first in applying for shares in the great scheme, that the managers and directors of the South Sea Company were engaged in making themselves secure, and began to solicit parliamentary influence on their side. Their project was nothing less than the payment of the National Debt of England, and we will see how they prospered. The King had returned from the Continent at the end of the year preceding, November 17 19, and had opened Parliament ; and the Bill for limiting the Peerage was one of the first that received the Royal assent. It was during this session, in January 1720, that the House in Committee undertook the consi- deration of the public debts. The South Sea Company conceived the notion that they could pay off the national liabilities by an extended trade. Sir John Blunt, a financier modelled upon Law's pattern, who was Chair- man and one of the influential minds in the directorate of the South Sea Company, pro- posed and argued in favour of the scheme for consolidating the funds, and endeavoured to persuade the Chancellor of the Exchequer to that view. Sir John Blunt's proposal included the extinction of the irredeemable annuities which had been granted during the reign of Queen Anne for periods of ninety- nine years, and the entire extinction of the National Debt within a period of twenty-six years, provided that the funds were so massed and that certain commercial privileges were bestowed upon the Company. The State debts amounted in all to ^30,981,712, and this great sum was to be cleared off in the time specified, interest at 5 per cent, being paid to the Company until Midsummer 1727. After that date it was proposed that the State should have the option of redemption, when interest would be reduced to 4 per cent. The Chancellor of the Exchequer (Aislabie) opened the debate in the House of Commons in February 1720, and in a powerful speech in favour of the proposal, he contended that the suggestion of the South Sea Company ought to be entertained by the House. He said that if the proposal were carried through prosperity would rapidly follow and the nation would be free. Mr, Secretary Craggs followed on the same side, and assumed that the proposal would be immediately welcomed by all in the House. However, this confi- dence was not at once responded to. Mem- bers had evidently not made up their minds to the great advantages pointed out in the Chancellor's speech. The Government had done its best to introduce the subject in rosy colours, but quite fifteen minutes elapsed before any one continued or rather took up the subject. At last Mr. Broderick, the Member for Stockbridge, rose, and while expressing his confidence in the proposal, and though willing to assist the Ministry in bringing the country to its former position — a position which could not be assumed until the National Debt was discharged — yet he thought some advantage would be gained by throwing open the subject to competition, so to speak. There were other great financial establishments besides the South Sea Com- pany. The nation was entitled to make the best bargain it could, and he ended by pro- posing that other corporations should be invited to tender, as it were, for the accom- plishment of the much-desired end. The Government, or rather its Ministers, had scarcelyexpected this. They had counted upon the acceptance of their proposition, and had committed themselves to the South Sea Company through the Chairman, Sir John Blunt. They were quite unprepared with any alternative scheme, and had no opposi- tion to offer to the not unreasonable pro- posal. Finding themselves in a corner, they lost temper, and showed fight, talking at random. With assumed virtuous indigna- tion, the Chancellor of the Exchequer denounced the alternative suggestion as un- dignified, as putting the nation up to auction, and that no haggling details should be per- mitted to interfere with such a spirited arrangement, that it should be carried on ISO THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE. with that spirit, etc. A remark that it was that spirit which had nearly ruined the nation did not tend to improve the temper of the Ministers, and the insistence by Sir Joseph Jekyll that the matter should be approached without heat and not hurriedly, brought up Aislabie to explain, but he was only laughed at. Mr. Walpole then proceeded to argue in favour of the amendment which had been suggested, and strongly recommended that the proposals of other corporations or capi- talists should be received. A wrangle ensued with the Ministers, who declared Walpole had now put forward a far less practicable scheme, but the member proved his opponent wrong in figures and in facts. The result was that the Chairman of Committee vacated his place, and the House resuming, agreed to Mr. Broderick's amend- ment to receive all proposals that might be sent in. The Bank of England had a good deal of support in the House, and a plan which promised such advantages to the Com- pany undertaking it was not to be thrown aside by them, or to be handed over without a struggle to a financing company of untried capabilities while the Bank stood aside. An old public servant was not to be thrust out by a new comer, however brilliant his pro- mises. So the Ministerial proposal was post- poned for five days to give time for tenders and applications to be made. The South Sea Scheme. Bidding became very brisk. The South Sea Company agreed to incorporate ^30,000,000 of debt into their stock, and the sum of ^3,500,000 into the exchequer on the terms already referred to. The Bank suggested a three-years' purchase, which, when compared with their opponents' proposition, showed an advance of ^2,000,000 sterling. The South Sea Company, however, held a meeting, and decided to outbid the Bank of England at any cost. They accordingly made a second proposal, offering not only ^500,000 more, but also four-and-a-half years' purchase upon all the annuities they should take into their capital stock, which, had the whole been taken in, would have amounted to .£3,567,500; thus their whole offer was equal to ;£7,567,5oo. Besides all this they offered to circulate ;i^ 1,000,000 in exchequer bills gratis, and to pay 3 per cent, interest for that ^^ 1,000,000, as also one year's purchase upon such an- nuities as should happen not to come into the Company's capital before March ist, 1721.* This extravagant offer quite put the Bank in the shade ; and, although that corporation came forward again and endeavoured to re- trieve itself, the South Sea Company's scheme * Northonek's "London." was accepted, and the preparation of the Bill was proceeded with. While this was being done, the Company actually endeavoured to absorb the East India Company and even the Exchequer ; and, like Aaron's rod, to swallow up all the rest. But this bold stroke fortunately was opposed, and though it was never seriously believed by the public, even the very possibility of the Company being in a position to make such an offer, sent up the stock to 126 per cent, at the Christmas 1 7 19.* It was at one time suggested that the Bank and the Company should divide the transaction between them ; but Sir John Blunt is reported to have said, " We will never divide the child," — referring, of course, to the "judgment of Solomon." The discussion in the House followed, and Walpole opposed the measure vehemently. More sharp-sighted than the rest, or more honest than his opponents, he perceived the ultimate determination of all these schemes. He foresaw the South Sea Company masters of the finances of the country, and that gam- bling on 'Change, already rife, would only be increased by such impossible terms as were promised fulfilment. If such business were encouraged, every one would hasten to enrich himself to the neglect of his solid business, and a spirit of gambling would arise to ruin them. So he proposed a limi- tation of the stock, that the premium should cease at a certain figure, and he endeavoured to introduce a clause, as the Bill was going through the House, to the effect that the South Sea Directors should be compelled to fix the number of years' purchase they would grant to the annuitants. But this suggestion was negatived, Walpole's warnings were dis- regarded, and the Bill passed the Commons on the 2nd of April, by a majority of 117 — 172 to 55. No delay was experienced in the Lords. On the 4th the Upper House carried it, notwithstanding some strong condemna- tion, comparing it to the "Trojan horse" which contained the hostile troops of Greece at the siege of Troy. "It was ushered in with pomp and acclamation, but contrived for treachery and destruction." The King assented to the measure in a few days, and then Walpole published his veto in a pam- phlet ; but, Cassandra-like, his prophecies were unheeded. Yet, notwithstanding his condemnation of the Ministry, Walpole was on the eve of accepting office under them. On the 4th of June he was named Paymaster- General, after he had succeeded in recon- ciling the King and the Prince of Wales. While the debate was proceeding in the House the Directors of the South Sea Com- pany were not idle. They set various rumours in circulation, and did all in their power to * See Anderson's " History of Commerce," vol. ii. 151 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. increase the price of their stock, and suc- ceeded. Spain was to grant the English every facility for trade. Silver and gold were to be as drugs in the market, and 300 or 400 per cent, was stated to be the ad- vantage awaiting the successful or indeed any speculator with the Company. Such baits took. The greedy public swallowed hundreds of pounds like so many oysters. There was no limit to the credulity of the people, and any warning from the Lords was looked upon as was the cry of the poor fanatic who called out against Jerusalem before its destruction, or of " Solomon Eagle" in the story of " Old St. Paul's." As soon as the royal assent to the Bill became known London went mad. Change Alley became a centre for the greatest gambling that perhaps even London has ever witnessed. The Royal Exchange was then no more. It had played itself out in fire, the bells chiming " There is no luck about the house" as it was being consumed ; and the South Sea House was the centre of the mercantile interests at that time. The old " South Sea House," in Threadneedle Street, is now " New South Sea Chambers," but in those days it was a very important and " handsome brick and stone " edifice. In Lamb's " Elia " that charming essayist mentions the building, and moralizes upon it. " Reader," he says, "in thy passage from the Bank, didst thou never observe a melancholy-looking, hand- some brick and stone edifice to the left, where Thread- needle Street abuts upon Bishopsgate ? I daresay thou hast often admired its magnificent portals, ever gaping wide and disclosing to view a grave court with cloisters and pillars, with few or no traces of goers-in or comers- out,— a desolation something like Balchutha's. This was once a house of trade, a centre of busy interests. The throng of merchants was here — the quick pulse of gain — and here some forms of business are still kept up, though the soul has long since fled. Peace to the manes of the Bubble ! Silence and destitution are upon thy walls, proud home for a memorial ! Situated as thou art, in the very heart of stirring and living commerce, amid the fret and fever of specu- lation, with the Bank and the 'Change and the India House about thee, in the hey-day of present pros- perity, with their important faces insulting thee, as it were, their poor neighbour out of business. To the idle and merely contemplative — to such as me — old house, there is a charm in thy quiet, a cessation, a coolness from business and indolence almost cloistral, which is delightful. With what reverence have I paced thy great bare rooms at eventide ! They speak of the past, — the shade of some dead accountant, with visionary pen in ear, v/ould float by me, stiff as in life ! " Every one hastened into the city to buy South Sea stock, and the excitement was a rival to that which had existed in Paris the year before. The nation became intoxicated with the increasing thirst for gold, and though for a day or two after the Royal assent had been given to the Bill the stock fell a little, perhaps purposely, to let the Directors bring in their friends on easy terms, in a short time it rose. Five days after, on the 12th April, the rate of subscription was ^300 per cent, and at this two millions were rapidly sub- scribed. Then it rose to ^340, and allot- ments sold for double the instalments paid up. The struggle for scrip was tremendous on 'Change. " There stars and garters did appear Among the meaner rabble, To buy and sell and see and hear The Jews and Gentiles squabble. " The greatest ladies thither came And plied in chariots daily, Or pawned their jewels for a sum To venture in the Alley ! " A journalist of the time has placed on record the following : — ' ' Our South Sea equipages increase daily. The city ladies buy South Sea jewels, hire South Sea maids, take new coimtry South Sea houses ; the gentlemen set up South Sea coaches and buy South Sea estates. They neither examine the situation, the nature or quality of the soil, or price of the purchase, only the annual rent and tithe ; for the rest they take all by the lump, and pay forty or fifty years' purchase.'' But the Directors were by no means satis- fied with their venture even then. In order to keep their promises they were obliged to exaggerate everything, and by playing upon public credulity endeavour to meet their engagements. They gave out that the next dividend would be 10 per cent., and those who had not invested were thus tempted, while those who had plunged, sought to add to their holdings and to reap thereby more profit. The plan succeeded well enough. A million sterling was quickly netted, and a premium of 400 per cent, was put into the pockets of the Company, and the stock rose by degrees and by official artifice finally to 1,000 per cent. More Bubbles are Blown. The term "bubbles," which so aptly de- scribes the character of these undertakings, was invented by the public about this time, when so many spurious schemes were set on foot to beguile investors. When Parliament had been prorogued, the Ministry had for- bidden all formation of new companies, and had issued a royal proclamation to that effect, inveighing against any raising of stocks or shares without legal authority. But in the then existing state of the public mind such a prohibition was useless. Every day fresh and, in many cases, ridiculous proposals met with ready acceptance. No doubt many of the associations professed worthy objects, not so much because they were for public benefit as for their own — that is, the benefit of the promoters. This is still the idea in Stock Exchange circles. The trail of the serpent is over them all. The onlv business was 152 THE SOUTH SEA miEBLE. The South Sea Bubble Excitement; A Scene in Change Alley. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. done in gambling. To quote a financial authority of the period, we may add : " The South Sea stock must be allowed the honour to be the gold table, the better sort of these bubbles the silver tables, and the lower sort the farthing tables for the footmen." The extraordinary purposes for which these bubbles were originated would astonish all who are not acquainted with them had we space to give them in detail. Yet they were received in good faith, and money was eagerly subscribed. We have seen a list of no less than eighty-six such schemes. In Anderson's "History of Commerce" full information will be found upon all these topics, and the absurdity of some of them is apparent. We take a few at random : — " To make salt-water fresh. To make oil from flower seeds. For extracting silver out of lead. For importing jack-asses from Spain, in order to obtain a finer breed of mules. For the fattening of hogs. For the supplying the town of Deal with fresh water. For a wheel for perpetual motion. For assuring of seamen's wages. For furnishing the city of London with hay and straw. " One very adventurous and ingenious person actually put' forth a Company entitled "A Company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is." The ingenious gentleman referred to opened a small office one morning, stating in his prospectus that he required ;^5oo,ooo in 5,000 shares of ^loo ; ^'2 to be paid on application, the interest to be ^100 per share per annum. Even on these terms so many subscribers came in that in a few hours the adventurer had netted ^2,000, and wisely or unwisely decamped the same night. There is no reason to doubt that had he required ^5 per share on application, he would have obtained it as easily. He was a minnow amongst the South Sea Tritons. Even the Prince of Wales was infected with the pre- vailing epidemic, and lent his name to a Company against the remonstrances of his advisers. Mr. Secretary Craggs, himself deeply involved in the scheme, writes to Earl Stanhope : — "Though the Speaker and Walpole wrote to dis- suade the Prince from his being governor of this Copper Company — though they told him he would be prosecuted and mentioned in Parhament, and cry'd in the Alley upon the foot of Onslow's insur- ance, Chetwynde's Bubble, Prince of Wales' Bubble, etc.,— he has already got ^^40,000 by it." Again, writing to Pulteney, he says : — . " It is impossible to tell you what a rage prevails here for South Sea subscriptions at any price. The crowd of those that possess the redeemable annuities is so great that the Bank, who are obliged to take them in, has been forced to set tables in the streets." We need scarcely dwell longer upon the scene. Every one can picture the wild ex- citement. Verses and caricatures became common. We have already noticed the fact that the name " South Sea " was applied to many articles just as "Pickwick" gave his name to a cigar, and Taglioni to wearing apparel, as things were in Duvernay's day a la cachiica, and later still named after the polka. Epigram and satire poured upon the bubbles, which burst almost as soon as they were blown, and worst of all incurred the opposition of the great South Sea Company itself. " That bubble was then full blown,'' as Mr, Mackay remarks ; and Prior says, " I am lost in the South Sea ! The roaring of the waves and the madness of the people are justly put together." Sir Isaac Newton was asked when the bubble would break, and replied that, "with all his calculations, he had never learned to calculate the madness of the people." The Beginning of the End. The opposition of the South Sea Directors to the smaller fry was imfortunate for their own scheme. Like the rod of the patriarch, they wished to swallow up all the others ; and by directing public attention to the ab- surdities and shortcomings of others, they let some light in upon themselves. Under such circumstances a little rift will speedily be enlarged ; a tiny aperture in an embank- ment of a reservoir will soon let the water forth. This pin-hole let a stream of light and truth in upon the South Sea Bubble, the breath of suspicion was too strong — it broke it ! In August 1720 the mania had reached its culminating point ; the stock stood at 1,000. But when it became publicly known that Sir John Blunt, the good Methodist Chairman, who was apparently piety itself, had taken advantage of the public confidence and quietly sold out at an enormous pre- mium, taking with him many of the Directors, then the duped or self-duped investors began to think there was something wrong. The Directors were soon accused of partiality, and the stock began to decline with alarm- ing steadiness. Such a state of things could not be allowed to continue, and the Directors were deter- mined to put a stop to such a tendency if they could. A meeting was called, those interested — and who was not ? — sought ad- mittance, the Directors mustered in force, and the Deputy-Governor was put in the chair. Mr, Craggs made a speech, and while advocating union, thanked the Directors for their conduct of affairs ; and a Mr. Broderick declared that the South Sea Corporation had brought peace on earth, and made all people I happy Self-congratulation was the order of 154 THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE. the day ; but all the votes of confidence passedfailed to assure the pubhc, now aroused to a sense of danger. Scarcely had the glorious prospects and wondrous goodness in past days been sounded, than the stock of this beneficent Company fell deeper and deeper still to 640, and in twenty-four hours had gone down another 100 per cent., and so on till it stood at 400. It is worth remarking that when the Com- pany had been at its highest state of pros- perity the Directors had proposed to merge the East India stock and the Bank of England in their undertaking. The stocks of those corporations rose respectively up to 445 and 260. Thus, says a writer, the value of these advanced stocks and that of the South Sea Company equalled five hundred millions sterling, five times the current coin of all Europe, and double the value of all the land in England. Fabulous riches v\^ere promised to stock-holders, and enormous rates of interest were held out to investors. The profits were to be obtained from the exclusive trade and the difference in the interest paid the differences in the price of stock ; the premiums being enormous, etc. These fabu- lous profits are thus touched upon in a contemporary ballad — " What need have we of Indian wealth, Or commerce with our neighbours ? Our constitution is in health, And riches crown our labours. " Our South Sea ships have golden shrouds, They bring in wealth, 'tis granted, And lodge their treasure in the clouds To hide it till it's wanted." Even then the first symptoms of decay were to be noted, and when the shares had touched 1000 per cent, the expected reaction set in, and "beggars no longer rode on horse- back." The following extract from a letter from Mr. Broderick to Chancellor Middleton will show the pitch to which events had risen in September 1720. Speaking of the arrogance of the Directors of the South Sea Company he says : — "Wee made them kings, and they deal with everybody as such ; those whoe submit and subscribe are at their mercy, those whoe doe nott are to be opprest in such manner as shall make what is due to them of little use, . . . while the gaine obtained by fraud and villanous practices is to turn to their ad- vantage. I foresaw this from the beginning, and have as many witnesses of itt as persons as 1 con- verst with, but I owne I thought they would have carried on the cheat somewhat longer. Various are the conjectures why they suffered the cloud to break soe early. . . . Thousands of families will be reduced to beggary ; what the consequences of that will bee time will shew. I know what I thought from the beginning, and feare itt is very near at hand. The consternation is inexpressible, the rage beyond ex- pression, and the case so desperate that I doe nott see any plan or scheme so much as thought of pre- venting the blow, soe that I can't pretend to guess att what is next to be done.' ' Again he writes, a few days after : — ' ' A great many goldsmiths are already gone off, and more will daily. I question whether one-third, nay one-fourth can stand itt." Mr. Broderick was right. Nothing that the Directors could do was able to place the Company up to their former position. As the Chancellor D'Aguesseau had been recalled from his retirement at Fresnes to put the French finances right, so Walpole was re- called from Houghton to steer the ship of State safely out of the South Sea shoals. His advice, which had been scorned and derided in the day ofprosperitybymany, was now eagerly sought. His clear head and busi- ness talents were reckoned upon to pull the dupes out of danger. He was implored to come and make terms with the Bank, and endeavour to induce that corporation to take up a por- tion of the South Sea bonds and circulate them. But the Bank did not appear to enter into the negotiation even when Walpole came up in response to the public request. They feared, not unnaturally, that they would be drawn into the vortex with the sinking Com- pany, and overwhelmed with it. Still they found they had no alternative. As the National Institution they must endeavour to save the nation from the effects of its folly, and after a conference with a numerous and influential assembly of merchants the Bank- agreed to circulate a certain amount of the South Sea bonds. Next day the dying Company held a large meeting to consider the proposal of their great rival, and authorized any arrangement with the Bank which the Directors thought right to make. It is needless to say that the public anxiety was very great, and general consternation was only slightly abated by the report of these negotiations. The Bank Directors sat to receive the news of the result of the Company's meeting, but were informed that no decision had been arrived at. At last it was decided to meet the South Sea Company half way, and to endeavour to make some arrangement for supporting the public credit. An account was opened for a subscription of three millions at 5 per cent, interest and ^15 deposit, and it was at first eagerly responded to. But just then the news of John Law's flight and disastrous ending came to England, and panic again set in. The French edict declaring Law's paper money worthless, aggravated the distress ; Hope spread her wings, and the South Sea stock fell faster and faster. A run set in, and the Bank even was- in a quandary. Bankers and others were in difficulties ; they could not stem the current. 155 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Many were " broke " and fled, and the Sword- Blade Company had to suspend payment. This panic set in on the 28th of September. Fortunately the next day was kept as a holiday in the city, and the Bank of England was able in the interval to make arrange- ments for its own protection. The South Sea Company was abandoned to its fate, the suggested plan was never carried out, for the Bank declined to pursue the scheme. South Sea stock fell to 135 and even lower. But on that Michaelmas Day it reached 175, — 25 per cent, discount! The tactics of the Direc- tors had proved abortive. Their offers of 50 per cent, dividend had failed to secure a re sponse. The ruin came quickly when the Bank withdrew its support, and the Company, which had a narrow escape of being legalized upon the ist of April, died on the eve of the great " goose" anniversary. So many had suffered that it is no easy matter to enumerate the professions of those who were ruined. Clergymen and laity, lords and ladies, were all included. Even Gay the poet, who had had some hundreds given him by Craggs the younger, lost his invest- ment, which had, when he declined to sell it, risen to the value of ^20,000. Although his friends urged him to part with his stock, which, be it remembered, had cost him nothing, he declined. He was begged by Fenton to sell a portion of it, so as to " ensure him a clean shirt and a shoulder of mutton every day ;" but the poet, dreaming of splendour in the future, persisted in retaining his stock, and the result was disastrous. Gay was greatly affected by the calamity, says Johnson in the " Lives of the Poets," and sank so lov/ that his life was endangered. •This was a loss, and many thousands had a like fate. But Ministers, including Walpole, who had so persistently abused the South Sea scheme, and yet who were not above dabbling in its stock, "got out" without any loss, and in most cases with immense profits. The people heaped indignant words upon all connected with the Company, and the " very name of a South Sea man grew absolutely abominable in every country." From the Prince of Wales downwards, epithets were heaped upon all connected with it ; but all this time the people, the ordinary stock- holders, who had lost, did not seem to think themselves to blame in the least. They dis- charged their attacks upon those above them, and no one will deny that the Ministry and the Directors of the Company were greatly to blame ; but the British pubhc was angry because they lost, not because the trans- actions were questionable. Had they all come out gainers — though such a thing was impossible — there would have been no uproar, no matter what commercial sins the South Sea Company had been guilty of Swift has left on record his impressions of the time in the following verses : — ' ' There is a gulf where thousands fell, Here all the bold adventurers came ; A narrow sound, tho' deep as hell — Change Alley is the dreadful name. " Subscribers here by thousands float, And jostle one another down ; Each paddhng in his leaky boat, And here they fish for gold, and drown. " Now buried in the depths below, Now mounted up to heaven again, They reel and stagger to and fro, At their wits' end, like drunken men." The King had been hastily summoned from Hanover, and he arrived in England in November. Just a year before he had opened Parliament, and had put before the House the question of the public debts ; now he had to arrange or sanction a means of securing the nation from bankruptcy. Parliament was summoned for the 8th of December, and meantime people thought nothing was too bad for the authors of the South Sea scheme. The Results of the Gambling. There were but very few righteous to be found in the city. It is stated by those who took pains to enumerate the numbers of the highest class in England who did Jtot plunge • into the South Sea Bubble, that Lord Stanhope with the Dukes of Argyll and Roxburgh were the only three. Lord Townsend was generally considered guiltless, while Walpole, Sunder- land, the Duke of Portland, and others made and lost immense sums. Several noblemen were actually reduced to beg colonial appoint- ments. But it was rumoured, and not with- out foundation, that the King and his Ministers — particularly the latter — had made large profits. It is undeniable that bribes of immense amount were distributed in stock by the pious Sir John Blunt and his more worldly associates to ensure the Parliamentary success of the scheme. Walpole, however, at the King's request, undertook to manage the business, and devoted himself to it with success, as will be seen. When the King opened Parliament he recommended prudence and care in dealing with the great question before the House, and it was necessary to find a remedy for the great evil which had fallen upon the country in as pacific a spirit as possible. Notwith- standing the common sense of this advice, the debate which ensued was very acrimonious and bitter against the Directors of the South Sea Company. Walpole had spent much time in maturing his proposal, and had suc- ceeded in gaining the consent of the East India Company and the Bank of England to engraft some portion of the dishonoured stock of the " Bubble " on theirs. But the general feeling in the Commons was revenge, and members apparently cared more for the hu- 156 THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE. miliation of Stanhope and his colleague Sunderland than for all the schemes for the restoration of the public credit. The Scene in the Commons. Pulteney moved the address that memo- rable day, and assured His Majesty that the House would approach the subject with all care and due temper, and proceed to apply such remedies as would restore confidence and credit. An amendment was suggested that the address should state, " as far as was consistent with the honour of Parliament, the interest of the nation, and the principles of justice." This amendment of Shippen's was seconded, and a violent debate followed. The Ministers came in for a share of invective, and the Directors of the defaulting Company of course got no quarter. Sir J. Jekyll hinted that some who were not Directors were equally or almost as criminal, and hoped they would be punished. Lord Molesworth was very bitter and excited. He declared that the Directors were truly the parricides of the country ; that as such they should be judged, and, following the Roman precedent, — which decreed the sewing up of parricides in sacks and casting them into the Tiber, — he advocated the like judgment upon the authors of the South Sea scheme, and that they should be thrown into the Thames. In the Parliamentary history of the time these very vehement opinions, shared by many members, will be found in I full. Mr. Walpole endeavoured to allay the storm. His idea was to restore the con- fidence of the nation before any measm-es were taken to punish the offenders. If London were set on fire, he urged, we should not waste time in endeavouring to inquire after the incendiaries ; we would first en- a deavour to extinguish the flames. " Public credit had received a dangerous wound, and lay bleeding, and they ought to apply a speedy remedy to it. For my part, I never approved the South Sea scheme ; but since it cannot be undone, it is the duty of all good men to assist in retrieving the mischief. With this view I have already bestowed some thought upon a proposal to restore public credit, which in proper time I will submit to the wisdom of Parliament." The result was the amendment was negatived ; but next day a most revengeful clause was added and carried. On the 12th of December the Directors were ordered to lay a full account of all their proceedings before the House ; and Sir Richard Steele declared that Eng- land — a nation of greater weight and credit than any other in Europe — had been reduced to distress by a few " cyphering cits " — a species of men of equal capacity — the faculty of cheating alone excepted — with the animals which had saved the Roman Capitol ! This pleasant little hit was duly appreciated. Mr. Walpole objected to the Directors being thus called up before the House ; but the motion was carried, and the Directors were called upon to account for their proceedings. This was on the 12th. On the 14th com- plaint was made of the slow progress made. Next day some documents were forthcoming, and four days afterwards a Select Committee was moved. On the 21st December Walpole introduced his remedy, which proposed to "engraft nine millions of South Sea stock into the Bank of England and a similar sum into the East India Company on certain conditions." The remaining twenty millions were left to the South Sea Directors to account for. A Bill was brought in, and after some opposition was carried, the Directors and all concei-ned in the Company being at the same time prevented from quitting the country. .The Act likewise forbade any transfer, documentary or other- wise, of their estates or other property. These Bills were quickly carried, and the irrepressible Jacobite, Shippen, determined to have a fling at Craggs, the Secretary of State, and, while admitting that it was a good move to restrain the Directors of the Company, said there were other men in high places who were no less guilty ! As he gazed sternly at Mr. Secretary Craggs at the time, that gentleman rose and declared he was willing to give satisfaction to any man if such a remark were intended for him ! A tremendous uproar ensued — Lord Moles- worth joining in the defiance — until Mr. Secretary Craggs condescended to explain that he meant only verbal or documentary "satisfaction" ; and eventually a Committee of thirteen was appointed. The Directors begged to be heard in their own defence, but that was denied them, and the Select Committee proceeded to examine the books and papers of the Company. This body was known as the Committee of Secrecy. When these arrangements were perfected, a great excitement was caused by the in- telligence that Knight, the cashier or treasurer of the South Sea Company, had fled, carrying with him some very important documents. He had managed to escape in disguise, and reached Calais in safety. No such commotion had been caused in London for years. The doors of the House were ordered to be locked, and the keys laid upon the table, and if an enemy were at the gates of the city a greater alarm could scarcely have been excited. The House at once voted a petition to the King, to command the arrest of the fugitive, and to ofter a reward for his apprehension. No time was lost, and the same evening the royal proclamation was issued, and the sum of ;^2,ooo was offered for the arrest of Knight. 157 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. In the House the excitement did not speedily subside. General Ross, one of the Committee, said that " a train of the deepest villainy and fraud that hell ever contrived to ruin a nation" had been discovered. Four members — Directors of the defunct Company — were immediately expelled the House, and summarily arrested, and all their papers were seized. Messengers were sent to the Con- tinent to request the arrest of Knight if he could be found. The "good" Sir John Blunt was summoned to answer for his deeds, but declined to criminate himself upon the ground that he had already answered the questions put by the Committee of Secrecy. He could not be induced to remember any- thing, and was ultimately desired to with- draw. And now arose a very painful debate, which had serious consequences. The young Duke of Wharton, already noto- rious as the leader of the Hell-fire Club, — a young man of brilliant talents and unrivalled profligacy, — rose in the House, and made a most scathing attack upon Earl Stanhope. The latter, with much indignation and excite- ment, denied the charges made against him. The Duke had compared the Earl to Sejanus, whohadsowndissensionin the Imperialfamily, and made the Emperor hateful to his subjects. Such an attack was too great, and the Earl, with much warmth, retorted, reminding the Duke of Brutus, who had sacrificed his worth- less son. The Earl was terribly angry, and was led from the House suffering from a determination of blood to the head. Next day he died ! He was a great loss to the nation, and it is stated that the King regretted him very deeply and sincerely. As for the young Duke, he was much affected, and seldom spoke in the House again. He re- sumed his wild courses, and finally degene- rated to such a level that he was attainted for treason in after life. Nemesis. We now have arrived at the last act of the drama, — or tragedy it might be called, for ruined people became desperate, and at least one death is attributable to the South Sea Company. The Secret Committee presented their report to the House of Commons on the 1 6th of February, 1721, at the same time premising that the greatest difficulties had been put in their way. Certainly the Report was calculated to astonish all but those who had been behind the scenes. The manner in which the books of the Company had been kept was, to say the least, curious. No cashier or book-keeper, no manager, could have been ignorant of the nature of the entries unless he was aware of the utter falsity of the whole business. In these days we occasionally hear of "cooked" accounts, of manipulation of moneys and false entries, but any modern swindling in these respects — at least any that comes to light, for are we not improving in everything, even in fraud ? — have not shown the barefaced contempt for the public that the South Sea Company dis- played. False and fictitious entries were plenty. In many cases large sums of money had been entered to the credit of blanks ! The names were known but not entered, so no claim could be made against the indi- viduals in the event of collapse. Leaves were wanting, books and documents were missing, erasures and alterations were fre- quent. Entries of fictitious allotments had been made to facilitate the Bill in the first instance, and entries of sales at absurd and entirely false and imaginary prices, showed by what means the Company had been floated in the first instance. These were some of the facts and transactions brought to light. The Committee had, however, by strict cross-examination, unearthed these facts. The officials were rigidly questioned. It was discovered that the Directors held stock for imaginary purchasers, and had actually dis- posed of scrip to the amount of one million two hundred thousand pounds, to be held for intending purchasers. But these people never appeared, and had made no deposits on account, nor given any other security. The reason of this was apparent. If the scheme succeeded the people thus interested would claim their holdings, for it was quite understood that certain blanks represented certain grand personages. If, on the con- trary, the Company came to a sudden end, these persons had nothing to fear. It was a case of " Heads I win, tails you lose" ! The manipulation of this amount of stock had been placed in the hands of the "good" Sir John Blunt, Mr. Gibbon, Mr. Chester, Mr. Holditch, and the wily cashier Knight, who had been apprehended near Liege by the British Minister at Brussels, and placed for safety in the castle at Antwerp. We may add that negotiations for his surrender were proceeding, when the object of so much soli- citude escaped from custody, and put an end to the controversy. But the Committee found plenty to occupy them in London. Of the sums placed to the credit of certain persons to induce them to carry the Bill through Parhament, we find the following amount of stock : — To the Earl of Sunderland, at the request of Mr Craggs . . . . . ^^50,000 To the Duchess of Kendal (mistress of George I.) 10,000 To the Countess of Platin (a lady of equal standing) 10,000 To the two nieces of the Countess . . 10,000 To Mr. Craggs (senior) .... 30,000 To Mr. Charles Stanhope, Secretary to the Treasury 10,000 158 THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE. This gentleman had also received the further sum of £z%o,ooo in "differences" through the Brokers, in whose books his name had been altered to Stangape. It also came out that Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Ex- chequer, had had dealings in South Sea stock to the aggregate amount of ^754,450, and had advised certain subscriptions with- out any legal reason, and in defiance of warrant. " That on the third subscription Aislabie's list amounted to ^70,000, Sunder- land's to ;£i6o,ooo, Craggs' to ^659,000, and Stanhope's to ^47,000, and that in the pawned stock which had been sold, there was by means of Mr. Knight a deficiency of ;^4oo,ooo.* After this sensational report there were several others issued, but through the absence of documents, and particularly of one of the chief offenders, Knight, the Committee were unable to clear matters up as fully as was desirable. The Fate of the Directors. The report was laid before the House, and even as it was being read to the indignant and revengeful members assem- bled, secretary James Craggs, one of the most implicatedin- George i. dividuals, died of small-pox, and celerated his end. anxiety no doubt ac- The father of the de- ceased Minister, who held the appointment of Postmaster-General, was so affected by the disclosures that he took poison. Mean-. while a Bill passed through Parliament for the relief of those who had suffered, and the Directors were condemned to make good, as far as their means went, the loss occasioned to the public. No doubt this was just in a certain sense ; but there must have been many individuals not connected with the Company, except as brokers and "jobbers," who made large fortunes, but were never called upon to Pictorial History of England.' make good the losses incurred. Punishment to be deterrent should fall ahke upon all the parties concerned. The public were deluded, it is true, but they were also warned fully and repeatedly that the Company was not all that fancy painted it. It was right that the swindle should be exposed, the swindlers punished, and their gains taken from them. Still we doubt whether they should have been prosecuted and made to disburse the estates and money they had possessed before the South Sea scheme was initiated. But the losers of course thought otherwise, and Mr. Charles Stanhope was first brought to the bar of public opinion. He pleaded non-responsi- bihty, and threw the blame upon his brokers and Mr. Knight. He had paid for his stock, and as to that unfortunate change of name in the broker's books he was quite ignorant of it. It was pretty evident that the name in the books had been altered from Stanhope, and things would have gone very badly with Mr. Stanhope had not his relatives made all the in- terest possible. By the exertions made, and in consideration for his lately deceased uncle. Lord Stanhope, who, it will be remembered, had died after his passage of arms with the Duke of Wharton, the accused was acquitted by a narrow majority of three. There could be no moral doubt ofhisliabiHty, and popular discontent ran very high. The mob was very indignant, and riots were anticipated. The most important criminal was next arraigned. Mr. Aislabie, Chancellor of the Exchequer, a prominent statesmen, was ac- cused of encouraging the South Sea Company in its extravagant and illegal proceedings for his own benefit, and had conspired with others to that end. His guilt was patent. No one cared to defend him. After a debate in which he found little favour, he was de- clared guilty, and ordered to be expelled the 159 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. House of Commons. He was at once com- mitted to the Tower and ordered to render an account of his estate, so that it might be appHed for the benefit of the sufferers. There was no excuse for him. A person in such an important office should have been above using the influence he possessed for the ruin or deception of the pubhc whose financial position he should have secured. The general satisfaction with which the late Chancellor's sentence was received indicated pretty plainly in what direction the feelings of the multitude were tending. Bonfires were lighted on Tower Hill, and the populace danced round the flames like so many demons rejoicing over the condemnation of a soul. The delightful intelligence that Sir G. Coswell, the head of the firm of brokers Coswell, Tamon, and Co., had also been expelled the House and sent to the Tower, was the signal ■ for renewed accla- mation and rejoicing. The Earl of Sunderland's was the next case examined, but there was no direct evidence to compromise him. He was declared to have been rather a dupe than a knave, a tool of the Directors,* and it was stated that he lost large sums in the Company. He was acquitted by a majority of sixty-one, but the people refused to believe in his innocence. Scenes similar to those which had greeted the Stanhope judgment took place, and all London was in a ferment. Mr. Craggs died at this time, as already mentioned, and, some say, by poison. But although the public mind and the Commons House had dealt rigorously with some of the delinquents in high places, the verdicts and sentences pronounced upon them fell far short of the decisions promulgated against the Directors of the South Sea Com- pany. Nothing was too bad for them ; while the Court favourites who had prospered, the grand ladies and the favourites of the King, were permitted to retain all they had grasped, the Directors were trampled ruthlessly underfoot. These "monsters of pride and covetousness," the " Cannibals of Change Alley," these traitors to their country, were persecuted, not prosecuted. Legal forms were not strictly followed. Their estates were confiscated, and many of them were reduced to far greater straits than they had ever been, and made poorer than when they had begun. " Several of the Directors," says Macpherson, " were so far innocent as to be found poorer at the breaking up of the scheme * Mr. Broderick to Lord Middleton. than when it began." No distinction was made — all were adjudged to be equally guilty, and a general confiscation took place. A list is on record of the sums allowed. In an old H istory of London we find the particulars. Out of his fortune, stated to be ^183,000, Sir John Blunt, the Chairman, obtained only ^5,000. In such proportions were the awards made — Sir John Fellows got ^10,000, Sir John Lambert ^5,000, out of fortunes estimated at ^243,000 and £jopoo respectively ; Gibbon, the grandfather of the historian, was likewise allowed ^10,000 out of ^106,000 — such was the violence of the proceedings and the arbitrary manner in which the cases were treated. The Earl of Sunderland resigned the Premiership, and was quickly succeeded by Walpole,onthe 2nd April, 1721, one year from the passing of the South Sea Bill ; and for more than twenty years this great statesman retained his long-desired position at the head of affairs. But the nation now looked to him to restore public credit, and his first care was directed to that object. In the address to the monarch the evils and the remedy were pointed out, and the resolutions to re-establish credit which had already passed the House were incorporated in a Bill. The whole stock of the South Sea Company was put down as ^37,800,000. When the reading of the Bill was proceeding the proprietors of the redeemable funds claimed that they should not be condemned to lose a penny, and an uproar was excited so great that constables had to interfere. The Riot Act was read, and many individuals arrested, who cried out, " You first pick our pockets and then send us to gaol for com- plaining." The result of Walpole's measure was that the proprietors obtained a dividend of something over 33 per cent. The charge has been brought against Walpole that he concluded a collusive bargain with the Bank of England, and made a good thing out of the transaction ; but the accusation was never supported. So the great and extraordinary excitement ended. Thousands were ruined, and a few were enriched. Subsequent panics seemed to show that the public had by no means lost its craving for riches. But into these specu- lations it is not our purpose to enter. We have stated facts as we have collected them, and we close our paper wishing " Peace to the Manes of the Bubble." H. F. 160 CORNHILL AND LOMBARD STREET IN THE EIGHTEENTH CeNTURY. WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY" CRY: THE STORY OF THE GORDON RIOTS. *' Toleration is a late ripe fruit in the best climates."— BuRKE. A Vast Meeting in St. George s Fields-Lord George Gordon-Other " Trojans "-Catholic Relief Bill, 1778-The London Protestant Association-Coachmaker s Hall-The Mob in Palace Yard ; Their Behaviour-Peers and Bishops Assaulted-Scenes in the Commons-Gordon Threatened- Friday Night-Chapels Attacked-Saturday's Grim Repose-Probable Influence of the Weather-Sunday-Riot in Moorftelds-Monday-Three Divisions of the Mob-Savile House Gutted-Edniund Burke the Statesman-Tuesday-Scenes at the House-" Jemmy Twitcher" W l'' w^^° .'"'^^''v^"?."'''/^'^ P^-'"'' ^">'^ Barnaby Rudge-Burning of Mansfield's House-Clerkenwell Prison- Black Wednesday-Fhght of Catholics-Dr. Johnson's Stroll-Langdale's Distillery Burned-The Prisons Fired- Attacks on the Bank— London under Martial Law— Edward Dennis alias Jack Ketch-Thursday-After the Carnival — I rial of Lord George Gordon. ^ Protestant Mob ; Saint George's Fields. HE threatening aspect of the sky on the 1st day of June, 1780, bursting forth into loud thunder claps and bright hghtning flashes in the evening, augured badly for the weather of the next day, and thousands in the squares and purlieus 16 of London, looking out of their windows into the night, or cosily sheltered in the ale- houses from the north-east wind, had reason to fear that Lord George would not have so large a muster of patriots on the morrow as his "glorious cause" deserved. But in the night the strong wind fell to a soft whisper from the south-east, and the sun rose in the I M EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. heavens as he ought to do in the heart of summer, beating bright and hot on the roof- tops and on the great dome of St. Paul's cathedral. The city and its suburbs were astir betimes; and in the early morning groups of men and lads, with a sprinkling of women, in holiday costume, from the rope factories of Wapping, from riotous, silk-weaving Spitalfields, from golden Clerkenwell, from boisterous Moorfields, from dingy courts and alleys, might be seen streaming over London Bridge, through the toll-gates of Blackfriars, and over the Bridge of Westminster. By the hour of ten a vast sea of human heads, the hat on each adorned with a blue cockade, covered the large space of open ground known as St. George's Fields, on the Surrey side of the river Thames. This was the spot where the holidayers from the lowest ranks of London were accustomed to revel in the " Dog and Duck" gardens, the haunt of the vilest scum of Southwark and the city ; and not a man, woman, or child that day but remembered or heard of the massacre that had taken place there twelve years before, when John Wilkes, now chamberlain of this same metropolis, was led before the King's Bench upon a charge of treason. The sight impresses us with the vastness of London, now grown so huge that the "breed of chairs" had almost died out, and old men shook their heads in melancholy surprise as they looked on squares and streets of brick, where in their early days they had seen cows feeding peacefully. But why this huge assemblage, reaching perhaps to the number of one hundred thousand souls ? Is it only some festal day ? Or is it that London, the beating heart of England, has been driven into fever heat by the ruinous waste of money in battling with the fleets of France and Spain, or maddened by the sacrifice of millions of pounds and thousands of brave Britons beyond the broad Atlantic, or is eager to express its sympathy with the citizens of England's great American colony in their determined struggle for indepen- dence ? No : there is no spirit at work so patriotic and so noble. The air is rent with shouts of " No Popery ! " and banners, with the same inscription are floating languidly over the heads of the assembled thousands, who parade the Fields and marshal into four divisions, — the London, the Westminster, the Southwark, and the Scotch, — waiting impati- ently for the arrival of the hero of the day. From portions of the vast host there rises the melody of sacred songs, while across the Fields there also shrieks the wild and stirring music of the Scottish bagpipe. At eleven o'clock, just one hour after the time fixed for meeting, the news spreads like wildfire from end to end of the expectant host that Lord George Gordon, the young champion of the Protestants, has reached the ground. This important idol of the hour is a man of nearly thirty, of feminine appearance, with the air and manners of a Methodist, a sinister cast in his eyes that betokened either knave or madman, and long lank hair falling on his shoulders. He has already given orders to the various divisions as to the line of march, and is making his last speech on the spot where, according to tradition, now stands the great Catholic cathedral of St. George, when a gentleman, who was one of his supporters, drives up furiously, leaps from a carriage, and hurries with difficulty to the ring, anxiously informing the hero that the keeper of the Guildhall of Westminster dreaded the outbreak of a riot if more than thirty or forty persons marched to the House of Commons with his Lordship with the Protestant petition. The hero calmed him with the pleasant news that he meant to go alone, and that the glorious petition was to follow him to the lobby of the House, there to wait till he received it and laid it before his honourable fellow-members. In a fainting condition his Lordship enters a coach by the favour of its lady owner ; and as a knot of forty men press around, eager to accompany their leader, he calls out, " No, by no means ; I shall be greatly obliged to you, gentlemen, if you will go back." Meanwhile sober Thomas Evans drove to the other end of the field, where the crowds stood in marching order, six in a row, with their faces turned towards the city. He asked what they meant to do. " To march to the city ! " was the answer ; but they assured him of their determination to make no riot. When the quiet citizens at home looked out from the windows or from the roofs as these miles of human beings tramped in perfect order and " great decorum " along their respective routes over the three bridges, there were few or none who dreamed that in a few days flames and smoke would be darting and rolling upwards on every hand into the sky that hung so bright above, — the Government of the mightiest nation of the world be shaken into helpless terror, — and the metropolis itself be threatened with as complete a destruction as when the Plague had raged a century before. " What ! " wrote Samuel Romilly, then a student of Gray's Inn, "summon 40,000 fanatics to meet together, and expect them to be orderly ! What is it but to invite hungry wretches to a banquet, and at the same time enjoin them not to eat?" And what, pray, is the meaning of those hand- bills that have been circulated industriously through the crowds, stating that as it was suspected that Papists intended to mingle in disguise among them for the purpose of 162 WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY" CRY. raising riots, the Protestants should not return their violence or insults, but calmly- hand them over to the constables ? Did not the wearing of a badge tend to intimidation and disorder ? What do those thousands of well-dressed tradesmen, lingering in the Fields after the vaster multitudes have marched away, know or care about the Pro- testant religion ? Their idea was a sweeping one, — that " a stop was to be put to public preaching and public teaching ! " It is significant, too, that a little after the hour of noon a group of drunken men, not only furnished with the blue cockade as an emblem of determined Protestantism, but armed with great bludgeons, is seen standing on London Bridge, one of the inebriates brandishing his club and swearing that it was " all their association." Catholic Relief Bill of 1778. England had been weighted with heavy- sorrows during the past few years ; the country had been throwing away millions on millions in a struggle with her own American daughter, — millions that had more wisely been tossed into the maw of the Atlantic ; and George III. and his drowsy undertakers were butting their heads against the gates of Gaza to the tune of the sarcastic eloquence of an Opposition that embraced some of the most conspicuous orators of our country, — Burke and Fox, Dunning and Savile. It was a battle of demigods. The cause of popular rights was taking mighty strides ; England was stirred with a trumpet blast calling for annual parliaments and universal suffrage. In the midst of these terrible alarms a bill was introduced into the Commons by a sound Protestant and noble statesman, Sir George Savile, towards the close of the session, in May 1778, and hurried through both Houses with pleasant compliments, not so much as a comfit or comfort to Catholics, as an honest clearance of a scandal from the statute- book of England. It was accounted a very little thing. The "relief" simply consisted in sweeping away enactments then totally unnecessary or "at all times a disgrace to humanity," — statutes of the reign of William III., which forbade a Romish priest from officiating or teaching under pain of treason ; gave to the nearest Pro- testant heir the right of seizing the posses- sions of his father and brother and other Catholic kinsmen during their lifetime ; and prevented Papists from acquiring property in England. " The lowest and basest of mankind," the informing constable, could compel an English magistrate to inflict on priests all the shameful penalties of this "wicked and absurd" bill, which had originated in the worst days of political faction, and found a place in our code of laws, not from any malice against Catholics themselves, but merely as a shuttlecock in the struggle of political parties. Unhappily these Draconic statutes were not suffered to lie dead. Every person of that com- munion was obliged to fly from the face of day ; the clergy skulked in the garrets of private houses, or sheltered themselves under the wing of foreign ministers. " The whole body of the CathoHcs," said Burke, "condemned to beggary and to ignorance in their native land, have been obliged to learn the principles of letters from the charity of your enemies." What the cause of Protestant intolerance lacked in numbers within the walls of St. Stephen's was made up for by the persistence of Lord George Gordon, a scion of the " Mad Gordons " of Huntly, who sat as member for the pocket borough of Ludgershall, and was the most perfect bore ever privileged to assist in the legislature of Great Britain. In spite of the fact that he was only the laughing- stock of members, who jested about his uniting Popery and small beer, and even told him (it may be read in Hansard) he had " a twist in his head, a certain whirligig which ran away with him, if anything relative to religion was mentioned," he was elected President of the London Protestant Associa- tion, which now awoke from its lethargic state. Never was there made a more foolish choice. The Protestant Association ; Meeting IN COACHMAKERS' HALL. Zealous meetings were held at St. Margaret's Hill, at Greenwood's Rooms, at the "Old Crown and Rolls " in Chancery Lane, and the " London Tavern;" a furious "appeal" was put forth, stamped with the very spirit of Popery, parading the terrible consequences that would follow from the opulence of Catholics, and defining toleration with the absurdest bigotry as the "allowing every man to profess his own faith if not evidently repugnant to the Holy Scriptures " ! Finally, advertisements and handbills summoned " all the true Protestants of Great Britain and of civil and religious liberty" to rally round " the glorious cause " before it was too late, and invited those of London and its environs to sign the Protestant Petition which lay at the chairman's house in Welbeck Street every morning till twelve o'clock. By these means no less than 40,000 signa- tures were placed on the immense volume of parchment, but they included no " more than one archdeacon, reprobated in this by all his brethren, and a few, veiy few, of the inferior clergy ; " while the rest, to quote a pamphlet aitn grano sails, were " taken from the dregs of the populace . . . from the fanatic followers 163 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. of Wesley and others like him, and from the scum of the Scotch fanatics, whom that nation has thrown out in such numbers upon this country. Nay, the very women and children have been called in to swell the number of deluded wretches, who could not even write their names, and who, consequently, must have been ignorant of the purport or meaning of the instrument they were prevailed on to sign with their marks." The match now only needed to be put to the big gun. On the evening of May 29th, 1780, a meeting was held in Coachmaker's Hall, where Lord George launched forth into an harangue of the most fiery nature, and was received with rapturous cheers. If they meant to spend their time in mock debate, they might get another leader ; the Scotch had succeeded by their firmness and unanimity ; he rallied his timid supporters with being opposed to " going up with the petition." From all parts of the hall there rose the shout of "No, my lord ! " He him- self would go to the gallows for the cause ; but unless 20,000 men met him at S t. George's Fields on the follow- ing Friday to support him by their presence, he declared his deter- mination not to pre- sent the petition to the House. It was suggested by some moderate adherents of the Association that the people might take to drinking so early in the day ; but the chair- man haughtily protested that the Associators were " not a drunken people." The Mob in Palace Yard. By the hour of half-past two on Friday the 2nd of June the several divisions from St. George's Fields had crossed the Thames, and the large opening between the Parlia- ment House and Westminster, all the avenues of the House and the adjoining streets, swarmed with " blue cockades." Cries of "No Popery!" "A Repeal!" were franti- cally shouted from thousands of lusty lungs. The crowd, eager as they might be to have a peep at the interior of the House of Lords and the splendid tapestry representing the defeat of the Armada, were diligently repulsed from the door by the Black Rod. Not the Commons, but the Peers, who as yet had no more to do with the petition than the man in the moon, were the special target for the hisses, groans, and assaults of the mob. As the coaches passed, blue banners waved from the tops of houses in Whitehall to guide the cheers, or groans and kicks, of the crowd below. Neither age, nor service, nor sacred dress shielded any one from the fury of the surging mass. Lord Mansfield, Chief Justice of England, who had been almost murdered in the Wilkes riots, had his carriage windows broken, the panels beaten in, his robes torn, his wig dis- hevelled, his face pelted with mud, and was only rescued, it is said, by the Archbishop of York, who rushed down the stairs and gal- lantly carried him off " in Abraham's bosom," Lord Stormont, after drifting for half an hour in the clutches of the Lord Chief Justice Mansfield. mob, appeared in the solemn assembly to tell howthe miscreants had leaped on the wheels and box of his carriage, broken it in pieces, and taken "the most impudent liber- ties " with his person. Although there were constantly new arri- vals, each in worse plight than his prede- cessors, the House was thin, owing to the fact that some of the peers, such as Lord Sandwich, thinking discretion the better part of valour, had returned home till the tempest was over. The bolder spirits who ventured into the rag- ingthrong met with the most disgraceful treat- ment, some however escaping with no greater loss than that of wig and bag. The Duke of Northumberland, accompanied by a gentle- man dressed in black, who was yelled at as his Jesuit confessor, was forced from his carriage, and after emerging from the jostle of the " pious ragamuffins," found his watch and snufi"-box gone. Lord Bathurst, the venerable President of the Council, after being pushed about rudely and kicked in the legs, was pulled in by the attendants of the House from the clutches of the miscreants. The Bishop of Rochester, at first mistaken for the Archbishop of York, suffered the severe indignities intended for that worthy gentle- man. The Bishop of Lichfield also made his appearance with his gown in tatters. But worse than all these misfortunes was the de- termined outrage on the Bishop of Lincoln, 164 WHAT CAME OF A ''NO POPERY'' CRY. brother of Lord Chancellor Thurlow. When his carriage was stopped, the bishop stormed at the insult ; whereupon the fanatics pulled him out, struck him in the face with his wig, and throttled him till the blood spouted from his lips. The wheels were torn trom his carriage ; he was rescued in a fainting state, and hastily conducted into an attorney's house near by, in Palace Yard, pursued by the infuriated mob. The House of Peers, during the whole period of its existence and in the stormiest days of political excitement, probably never exhibited such a pitably grotesque appear- ance as in the first few hours of these sense- less riots. " Some of their Lordships with their hair about their shoulders ; others smutted with dirt ; most of them as pale as the ghost in Ham- let, and all of them standing up in their several places and speaking at the same time." Mansfield trembled on the wool- sack like an aspen leaf. The blame was thrown, and just- ly, upon a Ministry that truckled to the rioters of Scotland by " scandalous and cowardly conces- sions," and now suf- fered a wild rabble to act at large in the freedom of their own will without any civil or military power to confront them. It appears that an order for the preservation of the peace, placed in the hands of North by the Cabinet, in consequence of the boast of Gordon on the previous day that he would bring his legions with him, was simply for- gotten by the drowsy Premier. Mansfield now empowered the justices, two of whom were present and were summoned to the bar, to disperse the mob if possible, but only a hundred constables could be found. For the space of four hours the doors were locked, but in the uproar, which waxed louder and louder, all transaction of business was futile, save that which decided upon an adjournment till the following day. The peers who had commenced the day with the courage of Roman senators, now departed in pusillanimous haste, on the principle oisauve qui pent, leaving the venerable Mansfield in the House alone. The Earl remained for two hours in his private room, meditating General Conway. 165 over a cup of tea on the folly of the " mad Gordon," the bigotry of his fellow Scotsmen, and the pig-headed ignorance of the most ignorant of all mobs, that of London scum ; and thereafter the great and wise Chief Justice drove away in peace to his mansion in Bloomsbury Square. Scenes in the Commons ; Gordon Talks TO THE Mob. Lord George was followed to the doors of Parliament by the small Westminster column, which had the honour of bearing the immense roll of parchment, almost as much as one stout Protestant could carry on his head, and the triumphant bundle was in the first in- stance deposited in the lobby. There it had a sufficient body- guard, for the blue cockades closely blocked the passage up to the very door, incessantly assailing the ears of the House by chiming the name of Lord George Gor- don, and shouting with all their might " A repeal, A repeal ! No Popery, No Popery ! " The at- tacks on members, however, were com- paratively slight. "All their religion," said Horace Wal- pole, in his cynical humour, " consisted in outrage and plun- der ; for. . . General Grant, Mr. Macken- zie, and others had their pockets picked of their watches and snuff-boxes." The worst mishap was that of Mr. Wellbore Ellis, who was pursued into the Guildhall, the windows of which were then broken and the doors forced, the gallant member finally escaping from the window by a ladder, after a stout defence with broomsticks by the keeper and the constables. No members, it is said, were allowed to pass through the lobby without repeating the cry of " No Popery," accepting a blue cockade, and promising to vote for the repeal. To Gibbon, the historian, who sat as member for Lis- keard, and held the pleasant sinecure of a Lord Commissioner of Trade, it was " the old story of religion," and the tumultuous crowds appeared to him as " forty thousand Puritans, such as they might be in the time of Cromwell, started out of (heir graves." When the Speaker had taken his seat upon EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the gilt chair with the mace before him, and the clerks were placed in order at the table, it could hardly be expected that Lord North, the easy, corpulent Premier, dressed as usual with powdered wig and in his court robes, over which lay the blue ribbon of the Order of the Garter, and the other members who had courageously attended, should sit in silence upon the morocco cushions, and lean peacefully on the low backs of the benches. " It would be impossible," says a contem- porary record, " to describe the astonishment, sense of degradation, horror, and dismay which prevailed." On that memorable day two attempts were made to force the door, which was locked for four hours. When "some degree of order"was obtained, the Protestant champion, seconded by Mr. Alderman Bull, was permitted by the House to introduce the petition, signed, as he de- clared, by nearly 120,000 Protestant subjects, " praying the repeal of the Act of last session in favour of the Catholics." The gigantic document then made its appearance in its own impressive person in that august as- sembly. His Lordship moved that it be taken into immediate consideration, and was again supported by his henchman of true British name. During the progress of a most violent debate, in which it was contested that this motion was contrary to all established forms of procedure, the foolish "Jack of Leyden " kept up a constant fire of inter- course with his adherents in the lobby, in- decently running every minute to the door or windows and bawling to the populace. He certainly, wittingly or unwittingly, " did everything in his power to promote a massa- cre," by holding out some of the most con- spicuous statesmen "as obnoxious persons and enemies to a lawless and desperate banditti." He shouted at the door or from the gallery that overlooked the lobby : — " I shall come out and let you know what is going on in the House ! " When the crowd pressed violently on the doorkeeper, who exclaimed, " For God's sake, gentlemen, keep from the door," he simply said, " Pray, gentle- men, make what room you can ; your cause is good, and you have nothing to fear." He denounced Burke to them. In another of his irritating confidences he marked out the Speaker as having uttered the slander that they had all come there under pretence of religion ; again he told them that " Mr. Rous has just moved that the civil power be sent for," cheering them with the counsel, " But don't you mind ; keep yourselves cool ; be steady." Within the House he actually in- sulted the Premier with a threat that he could have him torn to pieces, and pointed him out for the indignation of the populace by shout- ing, " Lord North calls you a mob." " Gentle- men," said the reckless orator in his insinuating conversational style, standing within the walls of St. Stephen's, the sacred and time-honoured seat of England's prudent legislature,—" gen- tlemen, the alarm has gone forth for ten miles round the city. You have got a very good prince, who, as soon as he shall hear the alarm has seized such a number of men, will no doubt send down private orders to his ministers to enforce the prayer of your petition. The Scotch had no redress till they pulled down the mass-houses, and why should they be better off than you ? " Expostulations were addressed in vain to such a maniac. When General Grant came behind him and endeavoured to pull him back into the House, exclaiming, "For God's sake. Lord George, do not lead these poor people into danger," he only made that forcible appeal the basis of another maddening sally : " You see in this effort to persuade me from my duty, before your eyes, an instance of the difficulties I have to encounter from such wise men of the world as my honourable friend behind my back." Some of the hotter members even talked of marching out, sword in hand, and cutting a passage through the mob. " My Lord George," said a kinsman of that hopeless person, holding a sword pointed at the agita- tor, " do you intend to bring your rascally adherents into the House of Commons ? If you do, the first man of them that enters, I will plunge my sword, not into his, but into your body." General Conway sat down beside him and told him firmly : " My Lord, I am a military man, and 1 shall think it my duty to protect the freedom of debate by my sword ; you see, my Lord, the members of this House are this day all in arms. Do not imagine that we will be overpowered or intimidated by a rude, unprincipled rabble. There is only one entry into the House of Commons, and that is a narrow one. Reflect that men of honour may defend this pass." Colonel Holroyd told Lord George that the fittest place for him was Bedlam, took his seat beside him, and followed him about, prevent- ing any more appeals to the fury of the crowd. The Military Called. The tumultuous mob grew wilder as the hot afternoon passed away. At last, when the venerable assembly which represented the people of Great Britain had been befooled by a crazy scion of a family known as the " Mad Gordons," and had fumed for half the day in an idle and irresolute passion, with its doors locked against an unarmed mob, the justices of the peace were empowered to call out the whole force of the country to quell the riot. A party of foot guards and horse arrived, the latter under the direction of Justice Addington. He was stormed with hisses, but portions of the crowd were not yet 166 WHAT CAME OF. A ''NO POPERY" CRY. laeyond being amenable to courtesy and good order, especially on such high pressure; for on assuring them of his peaceable intentions and his willingness to dismiss the soldiers if they would give their word of honour to disperse, the tide turned in his favour. The cavalry Tode away from Palace Yard, three cheers for the magistrate rang through the air, and six hundred of the more sober " Protestants " retired from the shadow of St. Stephen's, let lis hope to riot no more, but take other means for securing "the peace of Jerusalem." The lobby cleared, the division took place, with the result that 192 voted for considering the petition on the following Tuesday, and only six for Gordon's motion. The hero of the day walked from the walls of Parliament still a free citizen. If Ministers or members went away contented to " fret at whist or sit aside to sneer and whisper scandal,"and enter- tained the pleasant thought that the tempest of " pious ragamuffins " had spent its fury, they were sadly mistaken, " for already," to use the words of Gibbon, " the scum had boiled up to the surface in the huge cauldron of London." There were already tokens of the coming storm. About six or seven a coach was stopped in Palace Yard by a set of boys and pickpockets, "not the least like the Protestant Association." Lord George •drove away on that memorable evening in the carriage of Sir James Lowther, biddmg the remnant of the mob, who asked if the Bill was to be repealed, to " go home, be quiet, make no riot nor noise ; " but before he had reached his residence in Welbeck Street at ;a quarter to eleven, the storm raised by his foolish bravado had already burst into flames. Friday Night ; Romish Chapels Attacked. Although the law of England forbade the adherents of the Catholic faich from having chapels of their own, it was their custom to attend the services in those which existed for the private use of foreign ambassadors. At that time there stood, as there stands still, close to the gloomy archway that leads from Duke Street into Lincoln's Inn Fields, a Popish chapel, which is regarded with reve- rence by Catholics as their oldest religious house in London. It was attached to the residence of the Sardinian ambassador. As the chief centre of Popish worship in London, it was the first target for the fury of the popu- lace. Hardly had the tumult died away at Westminster, when several hundred rioters, •emboldened by the shade of night, made their way to that rich fortress of Popery, forced an entrance, demolished the altars, tossed the ornaments, books, benches, and velvet cushions into the street, and set the heap alight. Rushing into the chapel with t)urning brands, they set fire to the interior. 167 Poor Madame Cordon, wife of the Sardinian Minister, then in a most delicate condition, was found in such a state of terror and weak- ness that she could scarcely stand, and was only rescued by the gallant efforts of a gentle- man who dragged her to his residence in the Fields close by. The firemen came upon the scene with their toy-squirt engines, but were compelled to stand at ease. The high-con- stable arrived near midnight. Dashing into the midst of the crowd, he seized one of the most conspicuous by the collar, but amid cries of " Knock him on the head ! " the prisoner was rescued ; he then hastened to the barracks at Somerset House, and returned with one hundred men armed with bayonets. By the efforts of the firemen the flames were pre- vented from spreading further than the chapel; but, with the exception of two silver lamps, which, by the way, were stolen, all the valu- ables perished, including a painting which was said to have cost the sum of ^2,500. Thirteen rioters were taken to the Savoy prison to be brought up at Bow Street in the morning, — among the number an apprentice glazier, a footman, a printer, a couple of carpenters, a tailor with the appropriate name of Isaac Hemmaway, and a journey- man coachmaker from Long Acre, who was seriously wounded in the stomach by a soldier's bayonet while escaping from the chapel. On Saturday an immense crowd assembled in Covent Garden to see the rioters brought up for examination. An attempt was made to rescue them from the military escort in Little Duke Street, spurred on by a bare- headed waiter from the "Blue Posts," in Covent Garden. Several of the prisoners acknowledged they were Roman Catholics ! While the rioters were busy at the Sardinian chapel, another party found its way to War- wick Street, Golden Square, where stood another mass-house, under the wing of old Count Haslang,"a prince of smugglers aswell as Bavarian Minister," whose residence was stored with "great quantities of 'run' tea and contraband goods." The rioters did not, how- ever, accomplish much damage before the arrival of the military. Saturday's Grim Repose ; Sunday Riot IN Moorfields. On Saturday the House of Lords passed a motion for an address to the King, calling for the punishment of the perpetrators and abettors of the outrages, and throughout the city the conviction reigned that the bour- rasque was over. Whether the lull was due to the unpleasant dullness and dampness of the morning it would not be safe to say ; yet we imagine that atmospheric conditions had something to do with the progress of the Gordon riots. With the exception of the first EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. day, Friday, London suffered during the whole period from an attack of wintry weather. The impression of sober people that the mob had finally dispersed was soon to be sadly shattered. The quiet of Saturday was only the grim repose of the sweeping whirl- wind. On Sunday afternoon, while a cold wind blew from the north-east, an immense rabble of several thousands gathered suddenly as if by magic in the district of Moorfields, then chiefly tenanted by dealers in old furni- ture, and adorned with such buildings as the madhouses of Old Bethlehem and St. Luke, and emphatically the centre of dissent, by the possession of Whitfield's huge brick tabernacle. They marched with the now famihar shouts of " No Papists ! " " Root out Popery !" to anew mass-house inRopemaker's Alley. The riot lasted all night, and was continued on the following day. During this time they " gutted " the chapel and the houses of several Catholic families, leaving only the bare walls standing, and made a huge con- flagration of books, crucifixes, images, relics, altars, pulpits, pews, benches, beds, and blankets, in an open part of the district ; and not content with pulling down the house of the Catholic teacher, they rushed in thousands to the school in Hoxton. The Guards arrived on the scene before the hour of ten on Sun- day night, but they simply "watched the mob with decent temper." A child fell out of its mother's arms and was trampled to death by the surging crowd ; and the brutal attack of Moorfields hastened the death of the much re- spected priest, Richard Dillon, who had lived in the district for six-and-thirty years. His house was made a total wreck, his books and furniture were committed to the flames ; not even a bed was left him on which to rest, and this barbarous treatment gave a fatal shock to his health and spirits. Monday's Work : Savile House Gutted; Edmund Burke. The rioters were at work early on Monday morning, having now tasted the sweets of lawlessness and plunder ; and their energies were kindled by a shameless report, — which Walpole suggests was spread by the insinu- ation of "Saint George Gordon," — that the Papists had burned a Presbyterian chapel on the preceding night. Three of the rioters of Saturday were that morning remanded to Newgate ; and on its return the military escort was pelted by the mob. One irate son of Mars levelled his gun, but it was knocked up by his command- ing officer — an act of humanity which did not serve to appease the rioters, who compelled the soldiers to retreat in haste. "When grace, robbery, and mischief make an alli- ance," wrote the cynical gossip of Strawberry Hill, "they do not like to give over;" and now the rioters were not prepared to obey the resolution circulated in the morning by the Protestant Association, requesting all true Protestants to show their best interest by a legal and peaceable deportment, and they were ready to defy the proclamation of the Government, offering a reward of ^500- for the discovery of persons concerned in the destruction of the Sardinian and Bavarian chapels. They divided into three parties, — one marching in triumph to Wapping ; a second marched to Nightingale Lane, in East Smith- field. Both of these destroyed the Catholic chapels in their respective routes, plundered houses, and threatened to extirpate the entire sect; but the chief honour or dishonour of the day belongs to the third party, which bore in triumph the relics of the Moorfields tragedy, and presented itself most worship- fully before the residence of " the Apostle " in Welbeck Street. After performing this act of devotion, the rioters proceeded ta wreak their vengeance on the houses of the high constable and a coachmaker in Little Queen Street, the two chief witnesses against their comrades now safely locked in Newgate. These acts of petty spite were totally eclipsed by the attack aimed at the great Liberal statesman, Sir George Savile, whose claims upon the gratitude of the masses were can- celled by the fact that he was author of the obnoxious bill. Savile House, which stood in the fashionable square known as Leicester Fields, was stripped of its valu- able furniture, books, and pictures by the ferocious band of rioters, who then formed a huge bonfire in the square, and tore out the iron rails in front to serve as weapons. The mob dispersed on the arrival of the Horse Guards. This blow struck terror into the fashionable world. On the west side of the Fields stood the large and handsome mansion of Sir Joshua Reynolds, frequentedbyjohnsony Boswell, and all the luminaries of the stage and literature, and haunted by the fairest and highest ladies of the land, who pined tO' be immortalized by the skilful brush of the great artist. The painter struck his pen through all his appointments till the rioting had ceased. The blow might well give further alarm, for in " Petty France," and other slums around the Fields and in Soho, the inhabitants were chiefly foreign Catholics. Edmund Burke had heard about nine o'clock in the evening that his house was to undergo the vengeance of the mob when Savile's had been disposed of; and he has- tened home, instantly removing all papers of importance. Government had been apprized of the design, and a force of sixteen soldiers was sent, without his desire or knowledge, to take possession of his "little tenement."' 168 WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY" CRY, In this way the residence of the great cham- pion of Cathohc emancipation was saved ; but Burke himself, thinking that the soldiers mightbe better employed during thespreading tumult than in guarding his " paltry remains," carried off his wife, books, and furniture to a safe shelter, and boldly mingled with the blue cockades. Tuesday near and in the Commons. A new era of the riots has commenced. " We are now come," wrote the author of that racy play, The Road to Ruin, "to that period of desolation and destruction, when every ing days, had taught the necessity of sterner measures ; and at half-past one, when prodi- gious crowds began to muster, parties of horse grenadiers and light horse were stationed near the House, completely guard- ing the narrow pass between the Commons and Old Palace Yard ; and the approaches to the Commons were lined with foot guards with fixed bayonets, forming an avenue, through which members might safely reach the chamber. Still this was a work of no small difficulty. Members who lay under conviction of no great pohtical sin procured an " open sesame," through the army of Pro- The Riots of 1780 ; Sacking the Houses of Catholics. man began to tremble, not only for the safety of the city, but for the constitution, for the kingdom, for pi-operty, liberty, and life, for everything that is dear to society or to Englishmen." Fires were needed, though it was the 6th of June, in the grates of London citizens, and we cannot wonder that the blue cockades, who rushed again in thousands towards Westminster to learn the fate of their petition, should have chafed under the chill inclemency of Nature. The Tower, St. James's, St. George's Fields, and other public places were guarded by troops. All the military were on duty. The riot of Friday, and the criminal doings of succeed- testants, by having their names chalked on their carriage-panels along with the glorious words "No Popery." Fearless Edmund Burke mingled in the crowds of rioters, whom he found " rather dissolute and unruly than very ill-disposed," boldly avowed his part in the detested bill, declared that he had always been the advocate of the people, and took no umbrage at the cries of fanatics who reviled him as a Jesuit in disguise, nicknamed him " Neddy St. Omer's," and caricatured him as a monk stirring up the fires of Smithfield. The mob, not intimidated but rendered more ferocious by the display of martial power, paraded the streets with flying colours EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and to the strains of music. The intolerant temper of the crowd was worked upon by the distribution of a handbill entitled, " True Protestants, no Turncoats;" and perhaps the thought of blood was stirred by allusions to Bloody Mary and the existing horrors of the Spanish Inquisition. By three o'clock wea- pons were to be seen in the shape of bludgeons <3f peeled oak ; but the temper of the military was simply splendid, and the only outburst of anything like military spleen occurred in the wounding of one man by a soldier who had himself been struck by a huge billet of wood. The single brutal sally of the day was bestowed on Lord Sandwich alias "Jemmy Twitcher." At three o'clock Burke's unfortu- nate butt was descried at the corner of Bridge Street. The crowd would not permit him to advance further in spite of his determination and the attendant party of six light horse ; his horses' bridles were seized ; a shower of stones fell, the windows of his chariot were smashed, the horsemen fled, leaving him to the tender mercy of his assailants, and leaping from his carriage he took refuge in a coffee house. Justice Hyde, who was parading on horseback, rushed up to the rescue, and found his Lordship with a gash on the side of his head, a determined fellow standing over him with a bludgeon, threaten- ing that if he did not murder him now he would do so " before he had done with him." Sandwich refused the offer of a large escort to clear the way for him to the House of Peers, and driving back with all imaginable speed to the Admiralty, he penned an epistle to Lord Mansfield, who acted as chairman of the Lords during Thurlow's illness. Speeches full of indignation were made, and the Lords adjourned till Thursday. Two hundred members of the Commons had braved the storm. Catiline himself appeared, and took his seat calmly with a blue cockade in his hat, — a circumstance to which the future Earl of Carnarvon called attention, declaring that he would not vote while a member sat flaunting the ensign of riot in their faces, and threatened to move across the room and tear it out. After a show of resistance, his Lordship was deprived of his sacred token ; but even when several members had delivered the most bitter invectives against the conduct of the " Pro- testant " bigots, and Burke had uttered his lamentation over the deplorable state to which Parliament was reduced, with a blud- geoned mob waiting for them in the street, and soldiers with fixed bayonets at their doors to support the freedom of debate, he had still the courage or foolhardiness to step away for the purpose of haranging the mob, — an intention, however, which the violent hands of members prevented him from accomplishing. The Housespeedlyadjourned till Thursday, as the Lords had done, after passing resolutions anent the riots, and agreeing to consider the great Protestant petition when the tumults had subsided. The Burning of Newgate. There was a strange stillness at Palace Yard at six o'clock, ominous as the dead calm that hangs over the earth before the bursting of a tempest. When the Apostle emerged from the House, after braying with, his trumpet to no purpose, he drove away with one of his supporters. Sir Philip Clerke, who asked the protection of his Lordship in the crowd. At the corner of Bridge Street he informed the Associators of the talk and work of the Commons, and advised them to depart home in quietness. Instead of showing meek obedience, they unyoked the horses from his carriage, and dragged it through the crowded thoroughfares, througli Temple Bar and the City, as far as the residence of Alderman Bull in Leadenhall Street, refusing to listen to the appeals of the honourable baronet, who desired to be let out at White- hall. By this time the fury of the populace was in its final and wildest shape; and his Lordship, as he irove along and bowed his foolish head, beheld an immense host be- sieging Newgate prison. Conspicuous among the rioters in Palace Yard was a sailor named James Jackson, who carried a flag of dirty blue with a red' cross. Determined on revenge against the , magistrate who had read the Riot Act, he^- raised the cry, "To the house of Justice Hyde — ahoy ! " and when an hour had passed in the complete destruction of that building, the sailor shouted again, "Ahoy for Newgate ! " Meanwhile the house of Mr. Rous, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, had been utterly demolished. It was after six o'clock when the hoarse cry, " Ahoy for Newgate ! " was raised. The mob rushed along after three flags — one of which was that of Jackson ; the second of green silk, with a Protestant motto ; the third, the unfortunate flag of the Protestant Association. On the fatal march an in- flammatory handbill, with the terrible title of " England in Blood," was distributed among the crowd. After passing through Long Acre, picking up by the way the spokes of cart wheels, mattocks, and crow- bars, they swept down Holborn to the famous prison, the governor of which at that time was Mr. Akerman, the " esteemed friend " of Boswell, who has commended him to all generations for his " intrepid firmness, tenderness, and liberal charity." In that sink of filth and iniquity there lay the four rioters of Saturday, a host of wild male- factors and pitiful debtors, and at least four 170 WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY'' CRY. <;ondemned felons who were to be " turned off" on Thursday by Jack Ketch, — John Spar- row, who had robbed a man in the Green Park of a silver watch and three shillings ; John Early, who had robbed a man in Stepney Fields of a guinea, seven shillings, and some halfpence ; John Carr, who had robbed a gentleman near Kensington Gravel-Pits of money and a silver-headed cane ; James Purse, sentenced to death for an outrage ; and probably three others, of whom one had' stolen a cow, the second committed a highway robbery, and the third the same crime, with the additional brutality of ■chopping off two of the fingers of his victim. The keeper of Newgate was not unaware of the intended attack; for during that after- noon, while engaged in the prudent process of packing up his plate for removal, he received a visit from a friend of one of the prisoners, who left him with a curse and the cheering remark that "he should be the one hung presently." At seven o'clock the vast crowd, armed with bludgeons and spokes of cart-wheels, and following in perfect order a small party of thirty men, who marched three abreast, and were provided with iron crowbars, mattocks, and chisels, lialted at the door of the keeper's house, which had been locked, chained, and bolted. They demanded the release of their im- prisoned comrades. The ringleader, who bore the appearance of the " well-dressed, respectable person " of our modern police news, knocked and rang three times, and 'having received no answer, ran down the steps, and bowing to the crowd, pointed to the door like a stage spectre, and vanished. Incited by a group of " well-dressed " persons standing in the Old Bailey, the menial band proceeded to active service in three detach- ments — one of which attacked the governor's house, a second the debtors' door, and a third the main entrance to the prison. The windows of the house were instantly shattered by a shower of bludgeons ; two men — one of whom was a young lunatic Quaker — drove a scaffold pole through the parlour shutters ; a lad, who was attired, like Hyde, in a sailor's jacket, mounted on a man's shoulders, and with head as hard as a negro's or a nether millstone, battered in the broken shutters; and then at last the mad Quaker and a chimney-sweeper's boy scrambled into the house amid the cheers of the frantic crowd. The work now reached its climax and reward. The pictures, worth ;^2,ooo, and the furniture of the cultured and tasteful governor were flung from the windows by the furious lunatic, and immediately the sparks from the pile and the building flew over the heads of the m\d spectators. In vain did the tenants of adjoining houses plead their innocence, and pray for mercy on their homes ; for what recked Thomas Haycock, a frantic waiter from the St. Alban's tavern, as he shouted to the mob that they were supported by noblemen and members of Parliament, or the negro servant with the appropriate name of Benjamin Bowsey, as he urged his com- rades eagerly to go ahead with the work of destruction ? The store of wines and liquors, said to be worth the handsome sum of ^500, was broken into, brought up in pails and hats, adding to the joy, the energy, and fury of the frantic crowd. At the prison gate stood Francis Mockford, a waiter, with a blue cockade, holding up the main key and shouting to the turnkeys with an oath to open to him, and an uproarious tripeman, " well known to the police," swore that " he would have the gates down, curse him, he would have the gates down." In- stantly pickaxes and sledgehammers fell upon the great gate in the Old Bailey, under the fierce direction of the bludgeoned tripe- man, to whom a servant of Akerman shouted through the hatch, " George the tripeman, I shall mark you in particular." Another negro, of the good old English name of Glover, battered at the gate with a gun barrel, and thrust it at the faces of the turnkeys through the grating, while another demon tried to split the door with a hatchet. These were but feeble blows against the huge and massive gate, and efforts were now made to fire it by piling up the furniture from the keeper's house, while within the heroic turn- keys pushed down the blazing heap with broomsticks, and dashed water against the gates to prevent the melting of the lead that soldei'ed and secured the strong hinges- determined but baffled work, for the fiendish fire was fast shooting from the red-hot house into the fire-lodge and chapel, and one after another the wards were struck by the flames. The prisoners escaped, or were dragged out through the sea of flame by the legs, arms, and hair. Thus fell unfinished Newgate, a loss to the nation of ^140,000 — no part fit for further use, even a year later, but the grim condemned cells, nine feet by six, with their naked and impenetrable walls, the sight of which brought tears in those old hardened days even to the eyes of the lightest-hearted and most hardened felon. For a fiercely graphic picture of the storm- ing of Newgate, we cannot do better than refer our readers to that which has been drawn by the inimitable pen of Charles Dickens in " Barnaby Rudge," contenting ourselves with the descriptions bequeathed to us by two distinguished writers of the time. " Upon the keepers refusing to release their comrades, the rioters began," says Holcroft, " some to break the windows, some to batter the doors and entrances into the cells with pick-axes and sledge-hammei"s, 171 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. others with ladders to climb the vast walls, while others collected fire-brands and what- ever combustibles they could find, and flung them into his dwelling-house. What contri- buted more than anything to the spread of the flames was the great quantity of house- hold furniture, which they threw out of the windows, piled up against the doors, and set fire to ; the force of which presently commu- nicated to the chapel, and from this, by the assistance of the mob, all through the prison. A party of constables, nearly to the amount of one hundred, came to the assistance of the keeper ; these the mob made a lane for and suffered to pass till they were entirely sur- rounded, when they attacked them with great fury, broke their staves and converted them into brands, which they hurled about where- ever the fire, which was spreading very fast, had not caught." A still more vivid pic- ture is given by George Crabbe, the young poet, who had come up to London to find employ- ment more suited to his tastes than that of apo- thecary in a little country town. He informs us that at half-past seven "the engines came, but were only suffered to pre- serve the private houses near the prison By eight o'clock Akernian's house was in flames. I went close to it, and never saw anything so dreadful. The prison was a remarkably strong building ; but, deter- mined to force it, they broke the gates with crows and other instru- ments, and climbed up the outside of the cell part, which joins the two great wings of the building, where the felons were confined ; and I stood where I plainly saw their opera- tions. They broke the roof, tore away the rafters, and having got ladders, they de- scended. Not Orpheus himself had more courage or better luck. Flames all around them, and a body of soldiers expected, they defied and laughed at all opposition. The prisoners escaped. I stood and saw about twelve women and eight men ascend from their confinement to the open air, and they were conducted through the street in their chains. . . . You have no conception of the frenzy of the multitude. This being done, and Akerman's house now a mere shell of brick- work, they kept a store of flame there for other purposes. It became red-hot, and the doors and windows appeared like the entrance to so many volcanoes. With some difficulty they then fired the debtors' prison, broke the doors, and they too all made their escape. . . . About ten or twelve of the mob getting to the top of the debtors' prison vi^hilst it was burning, to halloo, they appeared rolled in black smoke mixed with sudden bursts of fire — like Milton's infernals, who were as familiar with flame as with each other." The Protestant Association forsooth ! Negroes and madmen, drunken sailors and waiters, were the demoniacs let loose by the vanity and recklessness of the pious debau- chee. Lord George Gordon. Poor crazy Dick Hyde, some four-and-twenty hours after he had shone so nobly at the siege of Newgate, entered the house of a humble woman near Covent Garden, wearing an old grey overcoat, and a flap- ped hat covered with wet paint. She offered to dry it for him, but he resented her officious kindness : " No ! you're a fool. My hat is blue, it is the colour of the heavens. I would no£ have it dried for the world." Does not this incident strikingly re- mind us of Barnaby Rudge ? Other Deeds of Tuesday. The mob and felons were masters of the city. Lawless bands spread like a lightning cancer over the metropolis, de- fying or possibly hob- nobbing with the soldiers that were being disposed in the different quarters of London and Westminster supposed to be most in danger, and heeding nothing the orders given at eleven o'clock to the trained bands — the same as that in which John Gilpin held the dignity of captain— to beat immediately to arms and command every housekeeper to be ready to march out at sound of drum. But scarcely had the iron fetters been struck from the Newgate felons when the Bow Street office and the adjoining house of the blind magistrate. Sir John Fielding, half-brother of the author of " Tom Jones," were attacked and gutted. All through the night the work of villainy went on. The poor magistrates at Hicks's Hall fled precipitatelyfrom that famous session-house with their effects. Panic- stricken citizens bowed to the demand of the mob that lights should be placed in their windows to celebrate the destruction of New- gate — while these wretches were busy bi'eak- JOHNSON. 172 WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY" CRY. ing open the doors of the new prison at Clerkenwell and setting the gaol-birds free ; regaHng themselves with good old ale at the ruins of the " Ship " in l3uke Street, where mass was said on Sunday after the destruc- tion of the Sardinian chapel ; wreaking further vengeance on the representatives of order by burning the house ot Justice Cox, in Great Queen Street, and a second house of Justice Hyde, in IsHngton ; far and wide, alike in fashionable and obscure streets, sack- ing and consecrating to the flames the posses- sions of CathoHcs, in Park Lane (Lord Petre's house), in Bunhill Row, in Moorfields, in Golden Lane, in Devonshire Street, and in the Little Turnstile, Holborn. Burning of Mansfield's House ; A Female Fiend. Towards midnight the venerable Earl of Mansfield was sitting in his mansion in Blooms- bury Square, when a de- tachment of Guards arrived "to take possession of his doomed house. The grand old judge of seventy-five, and enlightened friend of toleration, who had de- fended the afifirmation of Quakers, who had knock- ed the Corporation of Lon- don into " a cocked hat " for their persecution of a dissenter, who had de- nounced the prosecution of a priest as being " as bad a persecution as that of Procrustes," was afraid that the sight of red coats might exasperate the mob, and they were stationed in a church at a little dis- tance. Half an hour had passed — distant yells were heard — a vast crowd of human fiends swept round the corner of the square with torches and other combustibles towards his own mansion— still he did not stir until he heard a battering at the outer door. Then the old man fled with his Countess, leaving behind his pictures and the irrecoverable labours of a long and devoted life, the great library founded when he was a boy at Perth, the cherished records of a wide and noble friendship, books with marginal notes by the very hands of Pope and Boling- broke, letters that should have proved im- perishable memorials of his times, wise books written by his own hand to be given to the world when he himself had passed away. Universal suffrage ! And yet that crowd, which counted among its leading spirits " an Edmund Burkk:, handsome young woman about eighteen," named Letitia Holland, " A bruising pugilistic woman, Such as I own I entertain a dread of, " forbade pilfering, with the disinterested prin- ciple of a Parisian mob, one old ragged bigot even tossing into the burning pile a piece of silver plate and heap of gold, swearing that it would not go in payment of masses. The soldiers were beaten back ; they were rein- forced ; the Riot Act was read ; a few fired, four men and one woman fell, and others were wounded. The rioters promised to disperse and allow the engines to play upon the funeral pile of Mansfield's wealth and wisdom, if the soldiers retired ; the latter did so, only to see the mansion of the Chief Justice of England reduced to ashes. ''See then — the Vandals of our isle, Sworn foes to sense and law, Have burned to dust a nobler pile Than ever Roman saw ! " Poetry and faiths aside, the weather was cold and the times were bad, so that poor folks and felons were in mood to enjoy a bonfire, a rich wine-cellar, and a blow at the highest representative of English law! Black Wednesday ; Prisons on Fire ; FuiMus ; Martial Law. The mob, with an " in- fernal humanity," sent round notices to the keep- ers of the prisons and to several Catholics, in- forming them of their pur- posed time of call. The city, from king to servant maid, was filled with fear. " A universal terror had seized the minds of all ; they looked at one another, and waited with a resigned consternation for the events which were to follow." Only a iitw, like Gibbon, a " known Protestant," had no fear as to themselves. The wildest rumours were afloat : that insurgents had risen in Bristol and elsewhere ; that 2)^poo colliers were on their way to London ; thai 70,000 Scots were coming to "eat us, and hang us, or drown us ; " that the lions were to be let loose from the Tower and the lunatics from Bedlam ; that the dwellings ot Ministers, of every bishop, of every Catholic of every justice, the Bank, the Arsenal ;i Woolwich — in short, every building in or neii ^73 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. London that represented the wealth, the strength, and the law of England, were doomed to destruction. Catholics and others removed th z goods, and fled into the country or waited in horror for the approach of even- ing. Five guineas would not obtain the service of a chaise for a ten miles' drive ; ladies and gentlemen sent away their jewels and fled from their mansions ; the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire, whose house was strongly garrisoned like those of Savile and Rockingham, was content to lie on the sofa in Lord Clement's drawing-room ; even the amiable Bishop Newton trembled for the labours of his life, and sheltered himself among the peaceful shades of Kew. To complete the comedy, every shop from Ty- burn to Whitechapel was closed that after- noon ; on almost every house there hung a bit of blue rag ; "No Popery I'' was scrawled on doors and shutters ; and " the very Jews in Houndsditch and Duke's Place were so in- timidated that they followed the general ex- ample, and unintentionally gave an air of ridicule to what they understood in a very serious light, by writing on the shutters — " This house a true Protestant." A mob of several thousands took a trip into the country to regale themselves with the wines of Mans- field's house at Caen Wood ; the gates of the Fleet Prison were thrown open and the prisoners occupied the day in removing their effects, the rioters deferring the demolition of that infamous den till evening, in answer to the wishes of the criminals and debtors. In the very streets of the capital of England might be seen the most novel specimens of highway robbery — for example, a man on horseback stopping passengers and refusing to accept anything but gold ; and at broad noon three boys marching along Holborn, armed with iron bars that had been wrenched from the railing of Mansfield's house, huzza- ing and shouting the cry of the Protestant Association, andextortingmoneyatevery shop. Portly old Samuel Johnson (even he was told by his friends that he was in danger) took a stroll past Newgate gaol, reflecting on " the cowardice of a commercial place " as he saw a hundred " Protestants " plundering the Sessions House of the Old Bailey, " at leisure, in full security, without sentinels, without trepidation, as men lawfully employed in full day." From " What-was- London," Richard Burke wrote a letter to a friend, in which he said : — " If one could in decency laugh, must not one laugh to see what I saw, — a single boy of fifteen at most in Queen Street, mounted on a pent-house, demolishing a house with great zeaL but nuich at his ease, and throwing the pieces to two boys still younger, who burnt them for their amusement, no one daring to obstruct them ? Children are plundering at noonday the city of London ! . . . Fiiimns." At last the " Gordian knot," as the punsters of those times talked, was cut by the Solicitor-General, who gave it as his opinion, in a Tory Cabinet Council held that afternoon, at which the Whig Lord Rocking- ham appeared in a state of undress and with dishevelled hair, that a riototis assembly could be dispersed by the military withoitt waiting for forms or the reading of the Riot Act. " Then so let it be done," said the excited King ; and the military massacre was placed in the hands of Lord Amherst, the conqueror of Canada, who carried out his work with such stern severity that he was represented in caricature as slaughtering geese, and uttering the lovely distich — " If I had power, I'd kill twenty in an hour." Wednesday Night ; Langdale's Dis- TiLLERV ; The Prisons Fired. At nine o'clock on the evening of that terrible day, a young gentleman drove away with three companions in a hackney coach, not to the play or the fashionable gardens of Ranelagh, — though these were in full swing as if the city were in perfect peace, — but to look upon the fearful sight of burning London, which he described in after years as worse than the Great Fire, because men had at that time only to contend with the devouring element ; worse than the Parisian outrages even under Robespierre and Bonaparte, although the former converted the metropolis of sunny France into a charnel-house. Leaving the coach at Bloomsbury, he saw in Holborn an appalling picture of devastation, where Langdale's house and distilleries were wrapped in smoke and flame, in front of which was an immense multitude of men and women, some with infants in their arms ; the liquor running in the kennels and middle of the street, and lifted in pailfuls to the mouths of the besotted mob ; so little riot or pillage for all this, that he could not easily conceive " who worked this enormous mischief," until he saw distinctly at the windows men who, while the floors and rooms were on fire, calmly tore down the furniture, and threw it into the street or tossed it into the flames. At last the Horse Guards arrived and dispersed the crowd. Walking down towards Fleet Mar- ket, he beheld an indescribable spectacle from the declivity of the hill beside St. Andrew's church. From the other house and store of Langdale, near the north end of the market, a pinnacle of flame shot upwards like a volcano, and by the brilliancy of the illumination the church seemed to be scorched and the hands of the clock were as distinctly visible as at noonday, — a sight that " would have inspired the beholder with admiration if it had been possible to separate the object 174 WHAT CAME OF A "NO POPERY" CRY. from its causes and its consequences." The air was calm and the sky unclouded and serene, except where it was obscured by the volcanoes of smoke, that from time to time produced a temporary darkness. No guards were to be seen, and at St. Andrew's churchyard " a watchman, with a lanthorn in his hand, passed us, calling the hour, as if in a time of profound tranquillity ! " Walking down through narrow lanes, Wraxall reached the centre of Fleet Market, and beheld the sparks from the newly fired prison filling the air and falling in showers on every side ; he heard the discharge of platoons towards St. George's Fields across the river, and saw the " sub- lime sight'^' of King's Bench prison completely wrapt in flames. Had he been present, he might also have seen four men drinking and smoking unconcernedly on its roof until the flames beneath compelled them to leap down into the blankets held out by their comrades, and a chimney-sweep of sixteen, who had forty guineas in his pocket, shot upon the roof like a dog. At Blackfriars Bridge, which was held by the military, numbers of the rioters were shot down and tossed into the river. The prisons were destroyed. The new gaol of Surrey was saved by the deter- mination of its keeper, who, like the heroic locksmith in " Barnaby Rudge," pointed his blunderbuss, declaring that " as many as would might enter the prison, but none should return alive." A General View; Dennis the Hangman. Many pages would be needed to give any- thing like an adequate picture of the fires and the carnage of that night, of the poor women who died of fright, and the drunkards who perished in the burning ruins. There was no sleep for the King or the humblest of citizens. " Let those who were not spectators of it, judge what the inhabitants felt when they beheld at the same instant the flames ascending and rolling in clouds from the King's Bench and Fleet prisons, from New Bridewell, from the toll-gates on Blackfriars Bridge, from houses in every quarter of the town. . . . Six-and-thirty fires, all blazing at one time, and in different quarters of the city, were to be seen from one spot. During the whole night, men, women, and children, were running up and down with such goods and effects as they wished most to preserve. The tremendous roar of the authors of these horrible scenes was heard at one instant, and at the next the dreadful reports of soldiers' muskets, firing in platoons, and from different quarters ; in short, every- thing served to impress the mind with ideas of universal anarchy and approaching deso- lation." Two attempts were made upon the Bank in the course of the evening : the first of them led by a brewer's servant on horse- back, who had decorated his steed with the chains of Newgate ; but these attacks were repulsed, by no power of Lord George Gordon, who appeared upon the scene, but by the determined efforts of the m.ilitary and John Wilkes, who, if he had had his will, would not have left a rioter alive. The inhabitants of Westminster were in con- sternation lest an attempt should be made to destroy the Houses of Parliament ; many persons in the vicinity removed their more valuable goods ; and an official of the Commons prudently carried off to a secure refuge all the journals and other books of the House. The distillery of Langdale, and the once famous inn of " Simon the Tanner," in the district of Bermondsey, were not the only establishments of that kmd which were attacked by the appetite or fury of the rioters. The well-known firm of Barclay, Perkins, and Co., was then represented by Mr. Thrale, the husband of Samuel Johnson's clever female friend. " Mrs. Thrale's house and stock," wrote the Doctor to his gossip Boswell, " were in great danger. The mob was pacified at their first invasion with about fifty pounds in drink and meat, and at their second were driven away by the soldiers." Among the houses consumed on the night of Black Wednesday was that of Mr. Bovis, a Papist, who kept a chandler's shop in the New Turnstile, Holborn. There, one of the most active among the fiends was no less distinguished a person than Edward Dennis, alias Jack Ketch, common hangman, who- was condemned to death on the third day of July for assisting in pulling down the house of Mr. Bovis, notwithstanding the defence made by that amiable person that he was forced to do so, the mob swearing that if he did not lend a hand in burning the goods they would roast him alive ! Poor Jack ! the cool, bungling hangman, who had "turned off" so many to the delight of George Selwyn and the huge London that feasted on those monstrous tragedies ; who, when the Rev. Mr Hackman dropped the handkerchief under the cart in April 1779, ran to pick it up, keeping " the poor wretch some moments in that horrid state" — he himself sentenced to death ! Dickens has thought fit to make Ketch move about, unknown as a free agent — an absurdity in itself, in speaking: of days when the hangman was a most notorious figure, and quite against the fact. He was detained in prison apart from other criminals because of the horrid odour in which he was held by them ; on trial re- commended to mercy, and respited, probably for future service, till the hanging season was over, thereafter, it might be, to be " turned off" himself. 175 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. After Carnival; Gordon's Acquittal. " After Carnival Lent ever follows." Thursday dawned. Although the run upon the Bank was less by many thousands than on the preceding days, the shops were still closed from Tyburn to Whitechapel. Ten thousand soldiers from various counties were encamped in Hyde Park ; in all the wards the people formed themselves into bands to patrol the city ; the students and members of the several Inns of Court shouldered mus- kets for their own defence ; even the Pro- testant Associators attacked the drunken rioters at the King's Bench Prison, near the spot where they had assembled on the preceding Friday in the highest hope and fervour. Felons were hunted to their holes, or picked up as they stood gazing at the cells from which they had so strangely escaped ; and drunken people were found in scores asleep on the streets or in the smoking ruins of demolished buildings. Lord Amherst's report stated that less than 300 were killed and died in the hospitals ; but doubtless many were not accounted for, having been carried off by their friends, or tossed into the Thames, or burned in the blazing houses. Rockets were discharged on Thursday evening to inform London that all was quiet. The foolish originator of these terrible tragedies was conducted to the Tower under the strongest guard that ever in England accompanied a prisoner of state, was tried before Lord Mansfield on the 5th of February, 1 781, but was finally acquitted, after a brilliant defence by Erskine. During the trial he maintained a show of religious enthusiasm. He had a quarto Bible before him all the time the proceedings lasted, and professed great indignation at not being permitted to read some chapters from the prophecies of Zechariah. Fisher, the Secre- tary of the Protestant Association, who had burned the books of the Society, was examined in the Tower and discharged. Of the one hundred and thirty-five persons who were brought to trial at the Old Bailey and St. Margaret's Hill, the greater part were mere " apprentices, women, a black girl, and two or three escaped convicts;" and Horace Walpole was of opinion that "half a dozen schoolmasters might have quashed the insurrection." The future fortune of Lord George Gordon was eminently pitiful, — ■ a tragi-comedy of the strangest character. " Few individuals," said one of his contem- poraries, " occupied a more conspicuous or a more unfortunate place in the annals of their country under the reign of George the Third. He will rank in history with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade, the incendiaries of the Planta- genet times, or with Kett, so memorable under Edward the Sixth." After his release, he attempted for a time to keep his pro- gramme before the nation and the govern- ment ; he appeared in the autumn of that year as a candidate for an accidental vacancy in the representation of London, but did not go to the poll ; he was finally converted to Judaism, even undergoing the rite of circum- cision, and died in Newgate prison on the 1st day of November, 1793, while under sentence for a libel on Marie Antoinette and a noble member of the French Ministry. His remains were interred in an obscure burial-ground attached to a chapel of ease, on the east side of Hampstead Road, London. M. M. Medal Struck in Honour of Chief Justice Mansfield. r76 HoLYROOD Palace ; The Chapel. SCOTLAND'S SORROW: THE STORY O^F FLODDEN FIELD. "Tradition, legend, tune, and song Shall many an age that wail prolong : Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife and carnage drear Of Flodden's fatal field, "Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear And broken was her shield." A Troublous Period— King David and Edward Balliol— The Douglas Family— Accession of the Stuarts ; Chevy Chase- James I., the Royal Poet— James II. ; A Turbulent Vassal— James III. ; Archibald Bell-the-Cat— James IV. ; Happy Auspices Unfulfilled— The Barton Family— A Gallant Fight— Causes of Quarrel between England and Scot land— Vigorous Measures of the Scottish King— A Mediaeval Story— How James IV. prepared for War- Obstinacy of the King ; The War continued— The Opponent of James— Position of the Armies— Letter of Surrey to King James— The Plan of the Battle— The Battle of Flodden— The Decisive Moment ; Death of the King— Disastrous Nature of the Defeat— Alexander Stewart, Archbishop of St. Andrew's ; Scotland's Day of Sorrow— Conclusion. A Troublous Period. HE battle of Bannockburn had se- cured the independence of Scotland, and had exalted Scottish patriotism to its highest pitch. Never had the nation stood so high in her own eyes, or in those of the world, as during the reign of Robert Bruce. There v/ere fresh conflicts with the English, and still victory declared on the side of the Scots. By the Treaty of North- ampton, in 1328, King Edward IH. re- nounced all pretensions to the sovereignty of Scotland, and gave his sister Joanna to Bruce's son to wife. Next year King Robert died. He was the greatest king Scotland ever had. But on his death fresh troubles began, which again brought Scotland into utter misery. The first cause was one which recurred again and again in the course of the next few years — the minority of the sovereign who succeeded. Bruce's son, David, was only four years old on his father's death. 177 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY, But this evil was aggravated by others. The two great divisions of the country, the Highlands and Lowlands, were inhabited by two different races : the Highlanders were Kelts; the Lowlanders, English in race and manners. The Scottish Parliament consisted not of two chambers, as ours, but of one, com- prising the peers or great nobility, specially summoned by the King, bishops and mitred abbots, smaller barons, elected by the smaller vassals, and answering pretty closely to our county members, and "commissioners" ap- pointed by the borough towns. A measure passed in Parliament became law by the king touching it with his sceptre. But, un- fortunately, the great barons in the Highlands, and also in the mountains on the English border, had acquired a power within their own domains which made them almost inde- pendent of the King's authority. They exer- cised the right of judging and punishing crimes; and they defended themselves against encroachments of their neighbours to such an extent that very frequently there were wars going on between them ; and feuds were begotten, not only deadly in themselves, but hereditary. Not only so, but they were con- tinually at war with th.e Lowlanders, from a conviction that the latter had no business in the country. Had Robert Bruce lived longer, he might probably have done much to bring peace to the country; but to have a child of four years old on the throne in troublous times was sure to increase evils. King David and Edward Balliol ; The Douglas Family. Randolph, Earl of Murray, an able but relentless man, was the first regent ; but he died in 1332, and was succeeded by the Earl of Mar, nephew to King Robert. The country was not only in difficulties through internal discords, but also through an English in- vasion. Edward Balliol, son of him whom Edward L had made King, took advantage of King David's minority, and made claim to the throne. He was joined by a party of English barons, entered Scotland, and de- feated and slew the regent. Then, in order to establish himself, he acknowledged Ed- ward in. as his liege lord. The Scottish nobility were furious at this, and rose in de- fence of their independence ; but Edward II L met and totally defeated them at the battle of Halidon Hill (July 19th, 1333). No hope appeared on any side. Only four castles and a small tower acknowledged the sovereignty of David. Yet in spite of these terrible adversities ; in spite, too, of the skill and courage of Edward III., the Scots were delivered by means of their indomitable love of independ- ence. They could not bring large armies into the field, but they could harass and worry their enemies. They knew the country, and they had the good-will of the natives ; and day by day they would surprise castles, cut off convoys of provisions, destroy scat- tered bodies of men. In all these things they were now under the leadership of Sir William Douglas, commonly known as the Knight of Liddesdale, a member of a family second to none in the roll of its brave deeds in Scottish history. He was favoured by Edward III. becoming involved in his great French war, and his culminating achievement was the capture of Edinburgh Castle. This rendered Balliol's cause hopeless, and King David returned to Scotland. But again internal quarrels began. The Scots, weakened by these, yet boastful of their former victories, invaded England, and were defeited by an English army at Neville's Cross, near Durham, October 17th, 1346. King David was made a prisoner, and was shut up in the Tower of London for eleven years. But though the English overran the Lowlands, it became more and more evident that a permanent conquest was impossible. King David died at Edinburgh Castle in 1371, and in him the male line of Bruce was extinct. Accession of the Stuarts; Chevy Chase. But Robert Bruce's daughter, Marjory, had married Walter, the hereditary Lord High Steward of Scotland; and so deeply were the Scottish people attached to the family of Bruce, that they now offered the vacant throne to the son of this Marjory. His name was Robert Stewart, — the name being derived from the office whigh his fathers had so long held. This, then, was the acces- sion of the house of Stewart, or Stuart, as] it is often spelt. It reigned over Scotland until 1688, after which the male line went into exile, as readers of history know. But a descendant by the female line reigns happily over both England and Scotland to this day. In the reign of Robert Stuart was fought the battle of Otterburn, so well known to us through the grand old ballad of Chevy Chase. The leader on the Scottish side was William, Earl of Douglas, who possessed almost a sovereign authority in Southern Scotland. He invaded England, and laid waste the country round Newcastle, but was encoun- tered by Percy, Earl of Northumberland, the greatest man in those parts ; and the result was that the English were defeated, Nor- thumberland's sons being made captive ; but Douglas was killed. In 1390, Robert II. was succeeded by his son, Robert III. The feuds between the Highland clans still continued, to the great misery of the country. One of these feuds, the memorable combat between the Clan Chattern and Clan Kay, has been made famous 178 SCOTLAND'S SORROW by Sir Walter Scott's beautiful novel, " The Fair Maid of Perth." Another event of this reign has also become a standard passage in English literature. A fresh border feud led to the battle of Homildon Hill, between Earl Douglas and Hotspur, the son of the Earl of Northumberland. And all readers of Shak- speare will remember what glorious use the great dramatist has made of it in his play of Henry IV. Another trouble of this reign arose out of quarrels in the royal family. The King was weak of body, and somewhat infirm of purpose. His brother, the Duke of Albany, who would be the next heir if King Robert's children were out of the way, sowed dissensions between the King and the Duke of Rothesay, the heir apparent; and the un- happy prince was seized by Albany, shut up in a fortress, and starved to death. The King suspected, but did not know as a cer- tainty, that his son had perished through Albany's intrigues. He had only one son left, named James, and he determined to send him to France to be out of Albany's way; but an English vessel captured him, and he was kept close prisoner by King Henry IV. for eighteen years. Soon after his capture, poor old King Robert died broken-hearted (April 4th, 1406). James I., The Royal Poet. James I., who thus became a king while in captivity,was the greatest of the Stewart kings. He was the greatest king of his time in Europe. Henry IV. had no right to make him prisoner, but he took great care to give him an excellent education. He was beauti- ful in face and form, and excelled all his nobles in martial sports and athletic exercises. His poem, called " The King's Ouhair," i.e., the king's little book, is a love-poem in honour of his wife, the Lady Joan Beaufort, daughter of the Duke of Somerset. He may be regarded as the first Scottish poet, as Chaucer the first English. Dur- ing his English captivity, the Scottish feuds continued ; Albany was regent so long as he lived, then his son took his place. But all was so miserable, that the Scots exerted themselves to get back their King. They offered a considerable ransom ; the English were glad to accept it, for James, in his cap- tivity, had wooed the fair Joan of Somerset, great grand-daughter of King Edward III. It was hoped that this alliance would dispose King James to peace with England. He came, in his thirty-fourth year, back to his distracted home, and was crowned, with his Queen, May 2 1 St, 1424. He forthwith assembled his Parliament, and made excellent laws ; but he soon found out that what was needed was not laws, but the enforcement of obedience to them. To this, then, he devoted himself. Terrible disorders need terrible remedies, and he began his course of stern justice by condemning the late regent and his sons to death for murders and cruelties during his captivity. He laboured hard and wisely ; Parliaments were regularly convened, and the country was rapidly falling into such order as had never been known before. But his severity could not fail to raise up enemies against him ; and on the 20th of Feb'-^'iary, 1437, at the monastery of the Black briars in Perth, whilst the King was enjoying the society of the fair Queen, whose voice had captivated him on the slopes of Windsor, a band of conspirators, headed by one Robert Graham, whom he had banished for violence and fraud, rushed into the room and mur- dered him. Poor Queen Joan fled to Edin- burgh with her little son, and so effectually roused the loyal Scots by her courage and indignation, that within a month the traitors had all been tortured to death. James II. ; A Turbulent Vassal. Again was the unhappy kingdom thrown into the troubles and discords of a regency. Two regents were appointed, the one to guard the King's person, the other to administer the kingdom; but theyfell to quarrelling with each other, and had, moreover, to contend with one more powerful than either, — Archibald, the great Earl of Douglas, lord of the whole south of Scotland, and also Duke of Touraine, in France. They contrived to murder him treacherously, but only increased thereby the power of his family. When the King came to man's estate, he tried to conciliate William, Earl Douglas, by making him Lieu- tenant-General of Scotland ; but nought would content the proud noble but indepen- dent sovereignty; and he not only did acts in defiance of the King's commands, but entered into an alliance with the Earls of Crawford and Ross, who possessed almost royal au- thority in the east and north, to defend each other in every quarrel against every man, the King included. So arose a long civil war, which ended in the downfall of the great house of Douglas, and tranquillity again seemed to settle upon Scotland. But when, in 1460, King James determined to retake Roxburgh Castle from the English, into whose hands it had fallen, and laid siege to it, he was killed by the bursting of a cannon. James III. ; Archibald Bell-the-Cat. James III., who reigned from 1460 to 1488, ruined his own peace and that of his king- dom by giving himself to unworthy and unprincipled favourites. Moreover, his nobles despised him because he was a coward. They held a secret council to consult how to meet the evil, and one of them told the fable of the mice who resolved to affix a bell to the cat's neck, but could not carry out the resolve be- 179 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. cause no mouse could be found to do the duty. But in reply, Archibald, Earl of Angus, sprung up, exclaiming, " I will bell the cat ! " and " Bell-ihe-Cat" he was called from that day to the end of his life. He was as good as his word ; for on that very day the lords, under his leadership, seized the whole body of parasites and hanged therfi. For a while the lesson seemed to have profited the King ; but before long he had returned to his former follies, to which he added an insatiate thirst for money. He would do nothing, whether as favour or as right, without a gratuity, and he thus accu- mulated a vast hoard of coin, plate, and jewels. A fresh league was formed, headed by Angus Bell-the-Cat ; the King heard of it, and fled to the north, leaving his son in safe custody at Stirling Castle. But the leaguers bribed the governors to commit the prince to them ; and at length battle was joined at a stream called Sauchieburn, only a mile from the field of Bannockburn. It was the iSthof June, 1488. On the King's side were 10,000 Highlanders, 10,000 men from the western counties, and the burghers of various towns. On the other side were the men of the East Borders and of East Lothian, and those of Liddesdale and Annandale. In the centre were tlie rebel lords, bearing with them the young Prince James, and displaying the broad banner of Scotland. What followed is well told in Kinloch's charming little " History of Scot- land": — "The first shower of arrows had barely whizzed through the air, and the long spears of Annandale had just begun their bloody work on the royal army, when the King lost heart. He was mounted on a fiery steed, which he could not manage (it had been presented to him by Lord Lindsay before the battle) ; the clamour of war dis- mayed his unaccustomed ears ; he saw his own banner unfurled against him ; he knew that his own boy was in the enemy's camp ; and the remembrance of an old prophecy, that a lion should be devoured by its own whelps, gnawed his heart. It was too much for James III., and, turning his horse's head, he galloped from the field." Death of James III. As he rode down the brae to cross the Bannockburn, a woman, who had come to a spring for water, startled at the sudden appearance of a man in full armour, suddenly dropped her pitcher ; and his startled horse flinging him to the ground, he fainted away. A miller and his wife carried him to the corner of their mill ; and with returning con- sciousness he asked for a confessor, mur- muring in the bitterness of his soul, " I was your king this morning." The woman immediately ran out into the road, and cried loudly for a priest for the king. The cry was soon heard, and a man hurrying up announced, " I am a priest; where is the King ? " She led him into the mill ; and kneeling down by his sovereign, the man inquired, with a concerned face, if he thought he might survive by the aid of surgery. " I believe that I might ; but," added the dying man, " let me make my confession and have the Eucharist." The stranger bowed his head, and gave earnest attention to the gasp- ing story of sin and suffering. When he had heard all he cared to know, he bent yet closer to the King, and, drawing a dagger from the folds of his dress, stabbed him to death. One who visited it two years ago writes : — " The scene is absolutely unchanged. The bridle road is narrow, and descends the steep hill-side to the murmuring shallow stream of the Bannock, here called the Bloody-ford, from a tradition that it ran red with blood on the battle-day of Bruce. The mill is passed a few paces before arriving at the stream. It is not now a mill, but the old mill-lade and dam remain, though dry. It is a cottage with a ground-floor only, a thatched roof, and with picturesque stepped gables, as is so common in Scotland. The stone walls are immensely thick, and no other house is within immediate sight of it. The spring is on the face of the hill, a few paces above the mill, and with only the bridle-road between the two. Any one coming down the road finds himself suddenly close to the spring round a turn of the road, having been, till then, invisible and unheard, owing to the height of the banks between which the road runs. It was curious that a damsel was actually drawing water at the spring as I came upon it. One hand rested on the large flagstone which covers the recess of the spring ; the other was raising the pitcher from the sparkling water, which filled the bason and trickled over the margin of the little pool. Looking suddenly up at the sound of my steps, and seeing a gigantic Englishman before her, she made a motion as though to drop the pitcher. It was exactly the old coincidence. A horse starting here, at a noise at the well, must swerve round and spring up the bank, to avoid dashing his shoulder against the mill wall. A man in heavy armour could not possibly have kept his seat ; and the fall from this height in armour would be fearful. I never saw a scene which brought a historical tragedy so vividly before my mind as this. It is as yet untouched in all its details." James IV. ; Happy Auspices unful- filled. So perished James III., in the flower of his life, for he was but thirty-six years old. It was a sad augury for the son who now suc- 180 SCOTLAND'S SORROW. ceeded him, and the catastrophe of whose own hfe is the main subject of the present paper. The remonstrances of the clergy, — if he had not already discovered the truth for himself, — taught him that he had com- mitted a wicked action, and, among other tokens of repentance, he wore an iron girdle under his clothes, and added a fresh link every year. His administration of Government was wise, and his authority over his nobles great. Scotland enjoyed unwonted prosperity, and Henry VII., who had become King of Eng- land, sought to make lasting peace between the two countries. He gave his daughter Margaret to James to wife. They were mar- ried at " St. Lambert's Church on Lammer- anoor," in June 1502. In the treaty of mar- They had refused to make any amend ; there- fore the King of Scotland authorized the family of Barton to make reprisals, and capture any Portuguese vessels they might meet with. Thereupon Andrew Barton, a daring seaman, cruized about in the English Channel with two strong ships, and stopped not only Portuguese vessels, but English vessels going to Portugal. King Henry, therefore, fitted out two vessels, under the command of Lord Thomas Howard, son of the Earl of Surrey, who chose out first — "The ablest gunner in all the realm, Good Peter Simon was his name," and a skilful Yorkshire bowman, named William Hustler,* and with these and many "pikes, and guns, and bowmen bold," he Old Windsor Castle, the Place of Captivity of James I. riage all mention of English claim over Scot- land was carefully omitted. So far well. But the accession of Henry VIII. to the English throne was the beginning of fresh ill feeling. There were several causes for this. The two brothers-in-law were personally jealous of each other. The French king flattered and courted the Scottish. Then James was anxious to make a strong fleet and to extend his commerce, as he had numerous good harbours, and that was, more than any age before, a time of sea enterprise. And so he gathered a royal navy of sixteen ships. The Barton Family; A Gallant Fight. Now it so happened that a Scottish sea- man, named John Barton, had some thirty years before been captured by the Portuguese. sailed out at Thames' mouth. After three days' sail he fell in with a merchant who had been robbed by Barton, and who was now called upon by Lord Howard to direct him to the pirates' whereabouts. The merchant demurred, he was such a terrible foe to meet : — " He is brass within and steel without. With beams on his topcastle strong ; And eighteen pieces of ordnance stout He carries on each side along. "And he hath a pinnace richly dight, St. Andrew's cross that is his guide ; His pinnace beareth nine score men, And fifteen cannons on each side." Nothing daunted. Lord Howard insisted on the merchant guiding him ; and next morning they came in sight of Sir Andrew Barton. The grand old ballad from which we have * Erroneously called " Horlsey " in the old ballad. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. quoted then goes on to describe the fight. Barton had heavy beams hung at the end of his yards, to throw down upon any ship that attempted to board him. One sailor after another mounted to do so, as the English ship drew alongside, but the unfailing skill fell mortally wounded. The pirate ship was. boarded, and carried off in triumph. '' Lord Howard then a letter wrote, And sealed it with seal and ring ; ' Such a noble prize have I brought your grace,, As never did subject to a king. Percy and Douglas at the Battle of Chevy Chase. of Hustler brought them down. At length f Sir Andrew himself mounted. Hustler had but two arrows left. The first struck the pirate on the breast, but bounded back from his armour of proof. He had reached his beam, and was already moving it when Hustler, spying a spot left exposed under his arm, sent an arrow through it, and he " 'Sir Andrew's ship I bring with me, A braver ship was never none, . Now hath your grace two ships of war Before in England was but one." " Causes of Quarrel between England- "and Scotland. James IV. was very angry at the confisca- 182 SCOTLAND'S SORROW tion of the vessels, and this was one cause of ill-feeHng between the kings. Others super- vened. Some English borderers had killed King James's Warden of the Marshes, and James declared that King Henry was protect- ing the murderers from justice. One of these was named Heron. The English Govern- ment sentenced him to death, and believed that the sentence was executed. But a heap of stones only had been buried in the coffin. We shall hear of Heron again. Whilst things were thus ready for an ex- plosion, King Henry invaded France in July 1 5 13, and laid siege to Terouenne, or Tirwan, as it is called in the old ballads. Now let us quote some stanzas of an ancient verse chronicle : — " Before King Henry crossed the seas. And o'er to France he did transfleet, Lest that the Scots should him disease* He constituted captains meet. " For he perusing, in presence, Of English kings, their barons bold, He saw how Scots in their absence, What damage they had done of old. " He for the Earl of Surrey sent, And Regent of the north him made ; And bade him, if the Scots were bent. The northern borders to invade ; " That he should raise a royal band In Bishoprick t and in Yorkshire, In Westmoreland and Cumberland, In Cheshire, and in Lancashire. " ' And if thou need Northumberland,' Quoth he, ' there be strong men and stout, That will not stick, if need doth stand. To fight on horseback or on foot. " 'There is the doughty Dacres old. Warden of the West March is he : There are the sons of Kendal bold, Who fierce will fight and never flee. " 'There is Sir Edward Stanley stout, Who martial skill doth never lack, From Latliom House his line came out, Whose blood will never turn their back. " 'AH Lancashire will live and die With him, so also will Cheshire ; For through his father's loyalty This kingdom first came to my sire. " ' Lord Clifford too, a lusty troop Will there conduct, — a captain wise ; And with the lusty knight, Lord Scroop, The power of Richm^ndshire will rise. " ' The wardens all take heed you warn To harken what the Scots forecast ; If they the signs of war discern, Bid them the beacons fire full fast." " The ballad goes on to tell how Lord Surrey + * Disturb, harass. t Durham. t He had been knighted for his bravery at the battle of Barnet ; had fought for King Richard III. at Bosworth ; had been sent to the Tower by Henry accepted the trust, marched northward, and set his watches, to prevent the surprise which Henry rightly anticipated his brother-in-law would attempt. Then it goes on to describe the proceedings of the Scottish King when he knew that King Henry had "fared forth" to France. " King James his courage 'gan to increase, And of his council craved to know If he had better live in peace, Or fight against his brother-in-law. ' ' ' Alas ! ' said he, ' my heart is sore, And care constraineth me to weep. That ever I to England swore Or league or love a day to keep, " ' Had I not entered in that bond, I sware now, by this burnished blade, England and Scotland both one land And kingdom one I could have made.' ' ' Then stood there up a baron stout, A lusty laird of Douglas blood : ' My liege, ' quoth he, ' have thou no doubt. But mark my words 'with mirthful mood. " ' The league is broke, have thou no dread* Believe me, liege, my words are true ; What was the English admiral's deed. When Andrew Barton bold he slew ? ' ' • Your ships and armour too he took ; And since their king did nothing fear To send his aid against the Duke Of Gelders, your own cousin dear. " ' Hath not the bastard Heron slain Your warden with his spiteful spear? The league and peace are therefore vain ; My liege, you nothing have to fear.' " Then manful Maxwell answered soon, ' My liege, the league is broke by right. For the English king ought not to have gone Against your friends in France to fight. " ' What greater kindness coiild you show Unto your friend, the King of France, Than in English blood your blade to imbrue. Against their land to lift your lance ? '' ' You see what damage to you was done By English kings in time of old ; Your border biuned, and Berwick town Still by strong hand they from you hold. " 'Wherefore, more time let's not consume. But fiercely fight that land again.' "And then stood up haughty Lord Hume, Of Scotland the chief chamberlain. " ' My liege,' quoth he, ' in all your life More lucky fate could never fall ; For now that land, with little grief. Unto your crown you conquer shall. " ' King Henry, you shall understand. Is gone to France with all his peers ; At home is left none in the land But joltheaded monks and bursten friars. VII., but, at the end of three years, having received proof of his high integrity, Henry raised him to dignity and honour at his court, and he was chosen to convey fair Margaret to Scotland to marry James IV. 183 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OE HISTORY. " ' There's not a lord left in England, But all are gone beyond the sea ; Both knight and baron, with his band, With ordnance and artillery." " Then King James put questions as to who had gone with King Henry, and heard the hst of great lords — Percy of Northumberland, Talbot, Buckingham, Cobham, and a hundred others. ' ' The King then asked his lords all round If war or peace they did prefer. They cried, and made the hall resound, ' Let peace go back, and let's have war.' " Vigorous Measures of the Scottish King. And thus was James led to send his sum- mons to Henry to desist from attacking the French king ; and the minstrel tells how Henry received the embassage, and bade the messenger take back his defiance, whilst, according to custom, he gave him a hand- some present.* But the defiance never was conveyed to James, for before the messenger returned he had begun the war. He did not do so, however, without urgent remonstrances and entreaties against it from wiser heads than his own. Anne of Brittany, the Queen of France, urged him on, working on his romantic and chivalrous feelings, while his own queen, Margaret, prayed and supplicated him to refrain. She bade him remember that she had but one son, and that an infant, and that he was running a senseless risk, and making discord where there might be peace. His angry reply was that she was the King of England's sister, and her advice, therefore, unpatriotic. A Medieval Story. Strange warnings came to him, probably got up by friends who saw his folly and de- sired to reach him through his superstitions. Thus, as he was attending mass in Linlith- gow church, on the anniversary of his father's death, a figure appeared to him, habited Uke one of the saints in the windows, professing to be sent by the Blessed Virgin Mary, and warning him both against war and against his personal vices. Then the apparition vanished, but the King, and those to whom King James's letter and King Henry's reply are both in existence, dated July i6th and August 12th respectively. James dwells at great length on the Heron business, and many other small grievances, but there is a want of reality about the whole letter. It gives the impression of a man who wants to quarrel. Henry retorts that Scotland has given many injuries to England, that he knows him not as a competent judge in so high a matter as the invasion of an enemy, and concludes as follows : — "And as ye do with us and our realme, so shall it be remembered and acquitted hereafter by the help of our Lorde, and our patronne Saint George. " 184 he told it, believed that the mysterious visitor was the apostle St. John. Another day, somewhat later, when 100,000 men were already gathered for the war, a voice was heard at midnight from the Market Cross of Edinburgh, while the King was sleeping at Holyrood, citing the King to death within forty days. But nothing moved him ; and he commenced badly enough. Let the minstrel once more take up the tale. How James IV. prepared for War. "Then every lord and knight each where. And barons bold in musters met ; Each man made haste to mend his gear, And some their rusty pikes did whet. " Some made their battle-axes bright. Some from their bills did rub the rust, Some made long pikes and lances light, Some pike-forks for to join and thrust. ' ' Some did a spear for weapon wield. Some did their lusty geldings try, Some all with gold did gild their shield. Some did with divers colours dye. " The tillmen tough their teams could take. And to hard harness them conflate ; One of a share can shortly make A sallat for to save his pate. "Dame Ceres did unserved remain, The fertile fields did lie untilled ; Outrageous Mars so sore did reign That Scotland was with fury filled. " Whereof the King, in heart full fain. His men had all things ready made, Did then command his chamberlain In England for to make a raid. " The chamberlain. Lord Home, in haste. Who border-warden was also, Within the English borders brast [burst] With full eight thousand men and moe. "They entered in Northumberland With banners bravely blazed and borne. And finding none who could withstand, They straight destroyed the hay and com. " And spoiled and harried all abroad, And on each side in booties brought ; Some coursers got, some weldings good, And droves of kine and cattle caught. '' And stately halls and houses gay, And buildings brave, they boldly burned ; And with a mighty spoil and prey, Toward Scotland they then straight returned. " Sir William Bulmer, being told Of this great road and wild array, Did straight forecast all means he could, The Scots in their return to stay. "Two hundred men himself did lead, To him there came the borderers stout, And divers gentlemen, with speed. Repaired to him with all their rout. " They were not' all a thousand m.en. But kno\\ ing where the Scots would come, The borderers jest this course did ken, And hid them in a field of broom. " The Scots came scouring homewards fast. And proudly pricked forth with their prey ; Thinking their perils all were past. They straggling ran clear out of 'ray. SCOTLAND'S SORROW. ' ' The Englishmen burst forth apace, And skirmished with the Scots anon ; There was fierce fighting, face to faoe, And many a one was made to groan. ''There men might see spears fly in speels. And tall men tumbling on the soil, And many a horse turned up his heels ; Outrageous Mars kept each a coil. "The Scots their strength did long extend, And broken ranks did still renew ; But the English archers in the end With arrowshot full sore them slew. "The English spears, on the other side. Among the Scots did fiercely fling. And through their ranks did rattling ride. And chased them through moss, mire, and ling. "Six hundred Scots lay slain on ground, Five hundred prisoners and more ; Of Englishmen, slain in that stound. The number was not past three score. " In August month this broil befel. The day still black with Scottish blood, As diverse old men yet dp tell; The Scots it call ' The de%-ilish road.' " Obstinacy of the King ; The War Continued. The warning of this most unauspicious beginning of the war was lost upon King James, though it was echoed from the hps of some of his best counsellors. He assembled a great army, placed himself at the head, and entered England, near the castle of Twisell, August 22nd, 151 3. Again he gathered great spoil, and took many border fortresses. The same ballad chronicle that we Rave been quoting states that he was baulked at the castle of Norham, until a traitorous soldier, who had dwelt in it for thirty years, offered to show him a secret entrance for a rich bribe. James took advantage of the offer, captured the castle, and then hanged the traitor. The acquisition of the castle of Ford cost him dear. He had taken the owner of it prisoner in Scotland, and now the beautiful lady of the castle set herself to amuse and delay him, like another Judith. He began a course of dalliance and folly, as also, it is said, did his son Alexander Stewart (of whom more hereafter) with her daughter, and twenty days were spent here in folly and worse, while the provisions which had been brought from Scotland for the soldiers were being eaten up. At the end of that time she slipped away to the Earl of Surrey to inform him that his time was now come. The Opponent of James. Meanwhile the Earl, having sent round his summons to all the northern shires to meet him on the ist of September at New- castle, hastened through Durham, where, having stayed to hear mass devoutly, and invoke the aid of St. Cuthbert, he arrived at Newcastle on the last day of August, and found himself at the head of 26,000 men. The ballad gives a glowing account of the gathering, — of the anxieties of wives and chil- dren as they saw the men going forth in martial array, — of the many masses said on "hallowed stones," — of the anxiety caused by a great storm, which, it was feared, would destroy the fleet of Surrey's son, the Lord High Admiral, which was on its way to New- castle, — of the safe arrival of this fleet, and the cries of joy. ' ' Who, when the Earl of Surrey saw, He thanked God with heart so mild, And hands for joy to heaven did throw, — His son was saved from waters wild. "A merry meeting there was seen, For first they kissed and then embraced ; For joy the tears fell from their een. All forepast fears were then effaced." While the English forces were thus drawing to a head, the Scotch were rapidly becoming disorganized. Their provisions, as we have seen, ran short, and others went home to put their booty in safety. Surrey, feeling his own strength, sent a cartel of defiance to the Scottish King. James was desirous of accepting it at once, but his lords endeavoured to dissuade him. Surrey, they said, was like a gambler, who offered to stake acrooked halfpenny against arose noble. James angrily replied that on his return home he would hang anybody who should play the coward. Angus Bell-the-Cat, now a very old man, still urged caution ; the irritated King scornfully replied that if he were afraid he might go home. He should have spared the old earl such an undeserved taunt. The old man burst into tears and retired ; but his two sons remained, and perished in the battle. The King declared that he would accept Surrey's challenge. Position of the Armies. The two armies had now approached within five miles of each other. With the large scale Ordnance Map before us, we can follow all the movements with precision. The Earl of Surrey was at Wooler. Close by runs a stream called the Till — a stream of continuous doublings and windings, flowing northwards to join the Tweed, and along the east side of it for a couple of miles runs a plain called the Millfield. The Scotch were on Flodden Hill, an eminence surmounting, and in part surrounding, the north-west side of the Mill- field. The whole district consists now entirely of enclosed fields with a few plantations; it was then an open flat, covered with broom. On the side where Flodden Hill overlooks the Millfield it is steep in descent. This part is called Flodden Edge. Along the level crest of it lay the Scottish army. Lord Surrey i8s EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. beheld with so much misgiving the strength of the position that he sent a message to King James, inviting him to come down into the open Millfield and fight him, assuring him that this would be the more honourable and chivalrous course for him to take. Letter of Surrey to King James. The original document, or a duplicate of it in Surrey's own hand, is preserved in the State Paper Office. As I do not know whether it has ever been printed, I subjoin it. "Right high and mighty prynce. So it is that accomplysshing of yr honrble pmysse ye woU dispose yorselfe for yr parte Hke as I shall doo for myn to be to morrow with yor hoste in yor side of the playne of Mylfeld. In hkewise as I shall w' the king my souverayne lord subgitts on my side of the saide playne redy to give you bataille betweene xii of the clock and iii in the aftnoone upon sufficient warning by you to be given by viii or ix in the morning by the- said present. And like as I and other noble men my companye bynd us by this and our writing w' our" hande to keepe the same tyme for thentent above- said. It may like yor grace by your honrable act subscribed with yor hand to bynd yor grace for the accomplyshing of this our desire. Trustyng that ye woU depeche our said pseunt Imedyatly for the long delay of so honorable a jorney we think shuld sounde King Henry VIII. from a Portrait by Holbein. lately I sent unto you Rougecross pi.rsuivant-at- armes, and by him advertized yr grace that I and my soveraign lords subjectts wod come to represse and resiste yr invasyons of this the kyng my said soveraign lords Realme. And for that entent I offered to geve you bataill on this ffrydaye next comyng. Whrofe my message yr grace tok pleasr to hear as I am informed and by your herald Hay ye made aunswer that ye were right joyous of my desire and wold not fayle to acccmplishe the same and to abide me there wher ye wod at the tyme of my message unto your grace. Albeit it hath pleased you to chaunge yor sayd promyse and putte yorself into a ground more lyke a fortresse or a camp than upon any indifferent \i.e. impartial] grounde for bataill. Wherlor finding the day appoynted soo nygh ap- fTOchyng I nov/ desire of yor grace that for the to yr dishonour. Written in the feld in Wolleshaugh this vii day of Scptembre at v of the clok in the aftre- none. "T. Surrey." [and 14 others.] But the King was hardly so foolish as Surrey must have thought him. He returned for answer that such a message did not be- come an earl to send to a king. The Plan of the Battle. Surrey now felt himself in a serious strait. His men were running short of food. The chronicler Hall declares that for two days 186 SCOTLAND'S SORROW. they had fasted from everything but water. Whilst Surrey was dehberating, a man in disguise came to offer his help, provided he were forgiven certain past transgressions. The promise was given, and he then revealed himself as Heron, whom we have already seen as sentenced to death for border war- fare, and as having escaped. Surrey had thought him dead till now, but readily wel- comed him, and placed himself under his guidance, and executed a daring plan. On " a foul and windy day he marched north- quarry. Surrey was now northward of the Scots, Next morning Surrey turned and passed the Till by Twisell castle, near the junction of the river with the Tweed. In so doing he placed himself in a position of great danger, for the passage was a very difficult one, and his army might probably have been destroyed before they had taken up their position across the stream. It was thus that Wallace had won the battle of Stirling. But King James refused. He thought more of displaying his personal prowess than of saving his country, Relics from the Battle of FLonDEN — Pennons and Weapons. ward, past the Scottish lines which lay on his left, taking care to keep out of reach of their artillery, and on the evening of the 8th of September, he rested at Barmoor Wood, about two miles distant from the Scots, but hidden from them by a low hill. His march, indeed, had been seen by King James from a spot which is still called " The King's Chair," a heap of rocks in the middle of Flodden edge, on which the King sat, obsti- nately refusing all suggestions to attack them while in movement. The spot is now marked by a clump of firs, but has been greatly altered by the opening of a large stone and he wanted a stand-up fight. He scorn- fully refused the advice of his lords ; and when the commander of his artillery asked for leave to cannonade the English while crossing, he only got a threat to hang him if he fired a single shot. We have seen an act of grace done by Surrey. Here is one recorded of King James on the morning of the battle. The young Earl of Caithness had incurred outlawry for revenging an ancient feud. He came now to the King, accompanied by three hundred men, and submitted himself to his mercy. The delighted monarch granted him an immunity, 187 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and, because no other parchment could be procured, the skins were cut from a drum- head. The document is still preserved by the family. The earl and his gallant band perished to a man on the fatal field. His crossing thus made good, Surrey took up his position on Brankstone Moor, between Scotland and King James's army. Then the latter was stricken with a sudden terror lest Surrey should enter Scotland without check, and lay it waste. King James therefore gave orders to set fire to the camp huts, and, under cover of the smoke, he descended the hill which slopes gently on that side, and marched up the opposite hill of Brankstone, on the side of which Surrey's army was posted. In this movement he was a good deal harassed by the English artillery, which opened fire upon him as he advanced. It was posted between the divisions of the English army. The Battle of Flodden. At four o'clock in the afternoon of Tues- day, September 9th, 1513, the furious onset began, after a deadly discharge of arrows as the two armies neared each other. There were no tactics in the battle, no blunders. It was sheer hard fighting. First the left wing of the Scots, commanded by the Earl of Huntly and Lord Home, attacked and repulsed the right wing of the English under Sir Edmund Howard, the general's second son. But a strong body of horse in reserve, under Lord Dacre, rushed to the rescue, and succeeded. Not only so, but they carried havoc into the midst of Home's men, who were chiefly rough borderers, and who, thinking that the victory was already gained, had begun to disperse in search of pillage. In the centre a desperate contest was carried on between James and Surrey, the King, forgetting that the duties of a com- mander were different from those of a knight, placing himself in the front of his spearmen, and surrounded by his nobles, who, though they grieved at his rashness, would not desert him. For a while his valour carried all before it, and the English centre was broken ; but by this time Lord Dacre, having been successful on his side, charged the Scottish centre in flank until it reeled again. The Earl of Bothwell, however, came up with the Scottish reserve, -and restored the day here. On the Scottish right were the Highlanders and Isle men, under the Earls of Lennox and Argyll. These, galled by the showers of English arrows, and unable to reach the enemy with their usual weapons, the broad- sword and axe, resorted to their usual method of fighting, — a method which had many a time been successful in former days, but was worse than useless in conjunction with Low- land spearmen. Their method was to rush rapidly on the foe, and retreat immediately if successful. This they did now, in spite of all entreaties. The shock to the English lines was terrible for a moment, but the pike- men stood their ground, and the spent force, unable to recover itself, became altogether disorganized and routed, and fell back among the Lowlanders and threw them also into confusion. The Decisive Moment ; Death of THE King. Yet, in spite of this disaster on the right, the centre still held its ground desperately. The ground was become slippery and soft with blood, and the Scotsmen pulled off their shoes for a firmer footing. Suddenly Sir Edward Stanley, who had been in command of the English pikemen, who had so effectually withstood the Highland onslaught, called back his men from pursuing them, and turned on the rear of the Scottish centre. This move- ment was decisive. Engaged in front by Surrey, in flank by Dacre, in rear by Stanley, the King's battle even yet fought bravely against these fearful odds, and James con- tinued by voice and gesture to animate his men. He was endeavouring to fight his way to the English commander, in hope of a personal combat, when he fell, pierced with an arrow and mortally wounded with a bill.* The Scottish nobles, with fierce loyalty, threw themselves around his body and fought des- perately, until darkness put an end to the conflict. So fierce was the passion, so resolute the Scots who were left alive, that SiuTey dared not move all night. He held his men to- gether, and waited for the morning. When it dawned, the Scottish artillery was seen standing deserted bytheside of Flodden hill, t The men had disappeared. The result of the battle was doubtful no longer. A body of Scots, indeed, appeared on the hill, ap- parently about to charge down, but a dis- charge of English ordnance dispersed them. There can be no question that one great cause of the English victory was owing to the skill and courage of the archers. Surrey, who was made Duke of Norfolk in reward of his victory, had an augmentation made to his arms, viz., on the bend, the Red Lion of * An old letter, describing the finding of the body, says : " He had received many wounds, most of them mortal. He was wounded in divers places with arrows, his neck was opened to the middle, and his left hand almost cut off, so that it scarcely hung to his arm." t There were twenty-two large brass cannon, and in particular seven of a very wide bore, all of the same size and make, called the seven sisters. These last were sent to Berwick ; the rest were long preserved in the border fortress of Etall. There is a long and very curious MS. description of them all preserved in the Herald's College, London. SCOTLAND'S SORROW. Scotland pierced through the mouth with an arrow. Let us hear the minstrel-chronicler once more : — " The Englishmen then feathered flights Set out anon from sounding bow, Which wounded many warlike wights, And many a man to ground did throw. •' The grey goose wing did work such grief, And did the Scots so scour and skait [scatter], For in their battle, to be brief, They rattling flew as rank as hail. " One from his leg the lance did pull, One through his stomach sore was stickt ; Some bleeding bellowed. like a bull ; Some through nose and mouth were prickt. " But yet the Scots still stout did stand. Till arrow-shot at length was done ; Then plied apace they strokes of hand As they to closest battle run. ' Then spears and pikes to work were put. And blows with bills most dour were dealt, And many a cap of steel through cut. And swinging strokes made many swelt." Disastrous Nature of the Defeat. This is the most disastrous battle in Scot- tish history, not in its ultimate results, but in its immediate loss. There was not, it is said, a noble family in Scotland that did not own a grave on Brankstone Moor. Twelve earls lay dead, lords, knights, and gentlemen with- out numiaer.* Hall the Chronicler says : " Of the Scottes they slewe twelfe thousande, at the leaste, of the best gentlemen and flower of Scotlande ; and of the Englysh syde were slayne and taken not fifteene hundred men, as it appeared by the bok of wages when the souldiers were payed." Holinshed inclines to think the Scottish loss less than this, and the English greater. Alexander Stewart, Archbishop of St. Andrew's ; Scotland's Day of Sorrow. One of those who fell claims special men- tion — Alexander Stewart, Archbishop of St. Andrew's. He was the natural son of James IV. and Margaret Boyd, and was but eighteen years old. His father, intending hini for high office in the Church, had taken great pains with his education, and sent him abroad. At Padua he studied under the great Erasmus, who declared him his best scholar. Pope Juhus II., to oblige the King, had appointed him to the Archbishopric when he was but fifteen, and on his return to Scot- land, in 1 510, his father also made him Chan- cellor of the Kingdom, and he also received * In 1783, a gold ring was found on the field, with the crest of the Campbells upon it. In all probability it belonged to the slain Earl of Argyll. two rich abbeys. He did not live, as we see, to perform any of his sacred functions. One Andrew Pitcairn was killed with all his seven sons, but his wife gave birth to a posthumous son, and through him the family still exists, and possesses a charter stating the facts, signed by King James V. How Scotland mourned for her calamity — not, indeed, despairingly, but with a pride in the devotedness of her sons, and for their fortitude under the calamity — is shown by all the literature of the period, both in prose and verse. She was proud of her dead King, proud of those who had given up themselves to die with him. And yet James IV. was anything but a model king. His bravery and chivalry none can doubt ; he was good- natured and generous, contrasting altogether with his avaricious father ; he excelled in athletics, and loved tournaments and joust- ing ; was fond of riding forth unknown, and lodging in poor men's houses, " that he might bear the common bruit of himself" But he was reckless and self-willed, and a shameful libertine, glorying in his shame, and parading his mistresses in splendour before the world. Let us turn to a brighter page ; — how the people of Edinburgh waited in breathless anxiety to hear the news of their King's enterprise ; how they watched the beacon fires on the hills, and trembled as the signals given by them appeared to speak of disaster ; how at length a solitary horseman, Randolph Murray, appeared, and with tears and a few broken words uttered the sad tale, — all this is told in Aytoun's splendid lay, " Edinburgh after Flodden." And the same poem tells how the people wasted no time in unavailing regrets, but gave themselves first to prayer, then to defence. We shall not quote any lines from a ballad of which the reader will rejoice to read every word if he has not yet done so, but the proclamation is so curious, and so brave and wise, that we quote it at length : — ' ' X day of September. We do yee to witt ; for sa rneikell [forasmnc/i] as tliair is ane great rumber \ru!noiu-\ now laitlie rysin within this toun, toucheng our Soverane Lord and liis army of the quilk wc understand thair is cumin na veritie as yet, quhairfore we charge straitlieand command in our said Soverane Lord the Kingis name and the presidents for the provest and baillies within this burch \^boivtigh'\, that all maner of persunis, nyhbours within the samen, have reddy their fensabill gcir [anus of defence\ and wapponis for weir, and compeir theirwith to the said presidents at jowiiig [loning\ of the comoun bell for the keeping and defcns of the toun agains thame that wald invade the samyn. " And also chairgis that all women and specially vagabounds that thai pass to thair labours, and be not sene upon the gait [street^ claraourand and cry- and under the pane of banesing of their persons but favor \ou pain of banishing them bodily without respect of persons'\ ; and that the other \\omen of gude [7vomen of the better sort} pass to the kirk and pray quhane tyme requires [at the stated hours} for our EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Soverane Lord and his army, and nyebouris being thairat {townsmen who are zu/tk the artny'\, and hold them at thair privie labors off the gait \_keep at their private occupations out of the street'] within their houses as affairs \_as becometh'\." The putter forth of this gallant proclama- tion deserves to have his name preserved. It was " George of Towris." the British Museum, in which he commends the King for his desire to give the corpse Christian burial, and announces that he has commissioned the Bishop of London to take off all censures, give absolution, and duly bury in sacred ground. Why it was not done we cannot say ; but Stow says that after the dissolution of the monastery of Shene, the Death of Sir Andrew Barton. The body of King James was found on the field quite naked, was sent to Berwick-on- Tweed, embalmed, enclosed in lead, and sent to London. At the monastery of Shene, in Surrey, it lay long unburied. A papal inter- dict had been issued, forbidding him to go to war ; it had not reached him, but practically it made him excommunicate. A letter of Pope Leo X. to King Henry is preserved in body was found in a lumber room in its lead coffin ; that a workman in brutal wantonness hewed off" the head, and that Lancelot Young, glazier to Queen Elizabeth, at length carried it off and caused itto be buried in St. Michael's, Wood Street. Scotland, in this hourof her supreme agony, found herself once more with an infant king. James V. was but seventeen months old 190 SCOTLAND'S SORROW. when he was crowned, twelve days after his father's death. Queen Margaret was ap- pointed Regent, but her Parhament consisted now almost entirely of clergy, its other members lay buried beneath Brankstone Field. Probably with the hope of securing protection and help, she married the grand- son of Angus Bell-the-Cat, only eleven months But there was one person to whom above all others the restoration of peace was due, namely, Queen Catharine of Arragon. In true womanly spirit, she lost no time in send- ing an emissary of love and tenderness to her bereaved sister-in-law. It was one of her chaplains, who appears to have exercised his office with discretion and gentleness. This The Prayer before the Battle. after King James's death, to the unutterable disgust of the Scottish people. Conclusion. The English showed forbearance after their victory. They could not forget that Scotland was now ruled by a princess of their own Jiation, a sister of their English King. produced the following interesting letter, now in the Record Office. It is copied from the original manuscript, and now for the first time printed. The reader will see that poor Queen Margaret has acquired the Scottish peculiarities of spelling. " Richt excelleunt, richt hie and mihty princess, oure riclit dere and best-belovit sister We recommend 191 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. us unto you in oure maist hertie wise, and have ressavit youre letter the vi daye of this moneth written at Windsore the xviii daye of October ; and be thankful! of ye same. We persave you richt sory of ye adversitie laitlie happynit to us ye cause yarof was unshowen or unknawin at all times unto us. We als consider youre luving and hertie mind towart us and the grete compatience ye have for oure sake, as youre wellbelovit in God frere Bonaventure Provin- ciall of ye freres observant has shewin on youre behalfe with fullwise and substantious consolationes, quharof wee give you oure hertlie thanke, and grete comfort it is to us toknaw of oure brother and youre prosperous gude helth, in quhom oure speciall traisl is abou all next God ; Praying you dearest sister to have us in remembrance towart Our brother yat for oure sake oure derest brother's kindness may be knawin to our lieges and Realm, lik as we have shawin at gude . . . to ye said religious fader of quhais message comfort and minde shewin unto us yis time, we a richt glade as knawis God. Quha richt excellent, richt hie and mihty princes, maist dere and bestbelovit sister the Trinity hav in keeping. " Given under our signte, at oure toun of Perth, ye xi day of November. " Angry feeling gradually died away. There remained unbroken the tie of blood. The young Scottish King was the grandson of a King of England ; and thus, though a mighty shock was coming on both nations in the great religious struggle which was now just about to break out over Europe, the founda- tion was already laid of the happy union of the two nations. W. B. The "Henry Grace .\ Dieu," Built in 1513, Two Years after Flooden. 192 " Paper ! Paper THE PENNY NEWSPAPER, THE STORY OF THE CHEAP PRESS. The Most Wonderful Pennyworth in the World — How did our Ancestors Exist when Newspapers were Few ? — London News in the Country Parts — I'he Father of English Journalism — Nathaniel Butter Laughed at by Ben Jonson and Fletcher — Royalist and Parliamentary " Mercuries" — Origin of the London Gazette — Addison Reproving Newsmongery — An Unintended Prediction — Present Number of Local Papers — Imposition of a Stamp Duty — The Oldest Existing Journals — Birth and Growth of the Times — A Taxed and Dear Press — A Time of Poverty and Discontent— Defying and Evading the Law — Carpenter and Hetherington — Prosecutions and Imprisonments — " Pelham " to the Rescue — A Suggestion of Cheap Postage —Parliamentary Work — Mr. Ewart, I\Ir. Milner, Mr. Gibson, and the Select Com- mittee — Resolute Attacks on "the Taxes on Knowledge "— Opposition to the Publication of the Stamp Returns — Chambers' Historical Newspaper, and Dickens's Hnusekold Narrative — The Railway Mania and Mushroom Jour- nalism — Total Abolition of the Imposts — First Appearance of the Daily Telegraph — The Penny and Halfpenny Press. HE most wonderful pennyworth the whole world affords is a Penny News- paper. With a sheet of paper measuring about 3 ft. 4 in. by 4't. 2 in. (and sometimes half as large aj^ain when adver- tisements are plentiful), closely printed on both sides, the British reader is in possession of a chart of the habitable world, a record of its thoughts and actions, a picture in little of the workings of the great life which, crystal- lized in humanity, is to him the most imme- diately interesting item of the greater life of the universe. He could not, if he would, be an alien to his fellow-man. From every quarter of the world, throbbing through the waves, pulsing through the air, borne through the darkness of the night as well as the sunshine of the day by swift messengers of iron, pant- ing and crashing on iron roads, comes the voice of the world, a voice telling of joys and woes, triumphs and defeats, the plans of statesmen and projects of inventors, the mighty roar of the busy world, with its heroism ancl wisdom, its follies and its crimes, the " still, sad music of humanity." The news- paper is the focus in which are concentrated the rays of the moving world. No product of human ingenuity, no aggregate of skilled 193 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. labour, no marvellously contrived machinery, no accumulation of wealth, can produce any other pennyworth so rich, so exhaustive, so sympathetic and so powerful as the modern newspaper. The cheap press is a growth of our own time, indeed, of the last quarter of a century. Before 1853, when the advertisement duty was repealed, and partially so until the penny stamp was discontinued, and till 1861, when the manufacture of paper was relieved from the excise duty, the newspaper was a giant in fetters. Noa^ it is free and strong. The Days of our Grandfathers. We may be disposed sometimes to wonder how the good folks who preceded us man- aged to live and be tolerably happy without possessing some things which seem to us almost essentials of life. They travelled slowly, they knew very little of what was going on in the world beyond the little circles in which they lived, made their wills before starting on a fifty miles journey (in the course of which they rested for a night, perhaps two nights, on the road), thought town streets well lighted by a few dismal oil lamps, and were well content that by-roads should not be lighted at all, waiting for moonlight nights if they wanted to be out late. A few sleepy old watchmen toddled about the streets of the great towns ; and if wayfarers were molested by Mohocks or other roysterers, beaten, robbed, or even burked, the moral was obvious, — " Keep early hours, and you will come to no harm." An enterprising youth went out to India, and spent the better part of a year getting to Calcutta or Madras, and nearly another year passed before the old folks at home could hear of his arrival. There were newspapers, indeed, but the editors possessed no greater facilities for ob- taining news rapidly than did the public generally ; and when they did publish news, the price of the journal was so high that even rich people limited their patronage of the press, and poor people could only get a glimpse at a newspaper now and then. In the early years of this present century the papers were so small that only a very little news could be given, even if more could have been obtained ; and as we know that the world was very busy then, and may fairly suppose there were accidents and offences, and no lack of the material which newspapers now collect as their daily food — for human nature is very much the same in all ages — • the conclusion seems inevitable, that people knew very little about each other, and that dwellers in one country had very indistinct perceptions of the character of dwellers in other countries. We know now an im- mense deal more about the campaigns of Napoleon than Londoners did at the time he was defeating armies in Germany or penetrat- ing to fatal Moscow ; but then the knowledge was long coming, and, we now know, not very exact. If great newspapers with all modern appliances had been contemporaneous with Napoleon I., there would have been vigor- ously graphic accounts of the battle of Leipsic^ or a dozen different descriptions of the burn- ing of Moscow, by special correspondents, published in London the morning after the event. But our good forefathers lived and died knowing nothing of the railway or the electric telegraph ; and if they had seen a modern double Times with supplement extra,, would have been as much startled as the in- mates of the castle of Otranto were by the spectacle of the stupendously big helmet. Slow Work with Newspapers. If v/e go back a little farther, say to the first half of the last century, fifty years or so before the Times was an infant Hercules, strangling snakes in its cradle, the condition of England, nearly newspaperless, would seem to us, living in bright journalistic light, almost deplorable. Not even " a squire or knight of the shire," living in Devonshire, Yorkshire, or Northumberland, was likely to know for a week or two what was doing in London, and news received in London from Devonshire, Yorkshire, or Northumberland was almost as scarce as news from Merv is now-a-days. Scott scarcely exaggerated the difficulty with which news penetrated into remote- parts of the country, when he described the process by which Sir Everard Waverley and his neighbours became acquainted with the doings in London : — " A weekly post brought in those days to Waverley Honour a fFi?^/t/K Intelligencer., which, after it had gratified Sir Everard's curiosity, his sister's, and that of his aged butler, was regularly transferred from the Hall to the Rectory, from the Rectory to Squire Stubbs' at the Grange^ from the Squire to the Baronet's steward, at his neat white house on the heath, from the steward to the bailiff, and from him through a huge circle of honest dames and gaffers, by whose hard and horny hands it was generally worn to pieces in about a month after the arrival." The Father of English Journalism. Looking back still another hundred years,, we see the very first streak of the dawn of newspaper light. There was long cherished a belief that a newspaper was published in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and enthusiastic collectors possessed a few copies of the English Mercurie, the first dated July 23, 1588, and announcing the destruction of the great Armada. Even so acute an antiquary as George Chalmers, and for a time even 194 THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. Isaac Disraeli, were deceived ; but so recently as 1839 Mr. Watts, of the'British Museum, proved to demonstration that the copies of the il-/^;r//r/^ were clever forgeries. The first English newspaper was the Weekely Newes, published in London, in 1622, by one Nathaniel Butter, a stationer who had failed in business, and who as early as 161 1 had given himself to the collection of news, which he transmitted in manuscript to per- sons who were willing to pay for the luxury. These missives were known as "news-letters," and the name was adopted and still survives in some Irish journals, as the Belfast News Letter and the Wicklow News Lette?: Until a few years ago, Simnde7-s' News Letter was one of the best known of the Dublin newspapers. It was a bold venture of Nathaniel Butter to start a printed news- sheet, and possibly he had a very faint idea indeed of the miportant results destined to result from his act. Of course the wits of the time made merry over the little strip of paper — it was scarcely more — which appeared once a w'eek from Butter's lumbering press ; but then professional wits are generally ready enough to make merry over anything from which they think they can extract comic "copy" ; and, besides, the name of the pro- jector was tempting. In 1625, Ben Jonson produced at the Globe Theatre, Bankside, a satirical comedy, The Staple of News, in which he indulged in a fling at Butter and his associate, a well-known character about town, commonly known as "The Captain," who having been for years an oracle and gossip in Paul's Walk in the old cathedral, took to collecting such news as he could get for the benefit of the Weekely Newes. Jonson, in one of the scenes of the comedy, intro- duces a countrywoman, who tells the news- monger — ■' I would have, Sir, A groat's worth of news, I care not what, To carry down this Saturday to our Vicar." The great man at the desk replies contemptu- ously, " Oh ! you are a butter-woman ; ask Nathaniel, the clerk, there." In Fletcher's Fair Maid of tlie Inn, one of the characters, referring to the probability of the appearance of an apparition, says, " It shall be the ghost of some lying stationer ; a spirit that shall look as if butter would not melt in his mouth, a new RIercurius Gallo Belgicics." Poor Butter ! his name was made the subject of quips and quibbles in his lifetime, and per- haps the Butter was sometimes pinched for bread. Should he not have a memorial as the father of English journalism ? Royalist and Parliamentary " Mercqries." Other collectors of news followed the lead of Nathaniel Butter, and various newspapers, or rather news-pamphlets, appeared in the reign of Charles I. and during the Common- wealth period. A writer in the Quarterly Review says : — " Those who have wandered in the vaults of the British Museum, and contemplated the vast collection of political pamphlets and the countless Mercuries which sprang full armed, on either side of that quarrel, from the strong and earnest brains which wrought in that great political trouble, will not hesitate to discover amidst the hubbub of the Rebellion the first throes of the pen of England as a political power." In these small sheets thei'e was little space for anything but brief news of fights and victories, and a few fierce polemical and political utterances ; and advertisements, in any mode, were as yet almost unknown. People made known their wants or announced their wares by means of the common crier, with his loud voice and .louder bell. But in January, 1652, a poetical genius, who wished to celebrate the achievements of Cromwell in Ireland, inserted a notice in the Parliamentary paper, Mercurius Politicus, of the publication of " An Heroick Poem," entitled " Irenodia Gratulatoria, being a congratulatory panegy- rick for my Lord General's late return, summing up his successes in an exquisite manner." After that other advertisements appeared, some of them strange enough to us who live under very different social con- ditions. While the great plague was raging in Lon- don in 1665 the Court reinoved to Oxford, and there was published The Oxford Gazette, for the purpose mainly of making Court and official announcements. When the King and the Ministers and Court officials returned to the metropolis, the name of the paper was changed to The London Gazette, which still survives, known by name to everybody, but scarcely ever seen by the general public. Sir Roger L'Estrange, who had been appointed Censor of the Press after the Res- toration — an office which would seem to imply that the swarm of little newspapers threatened to be troublesome to the King and his friends — began the Public Intelligencer in 1665, and the Odservator m 1679. In 16S8, the year in which Stuart James fled from Eng- land, and his daughter Mary and her husband William of Orange reigned in his stead, appeared the Orange Intelligencer, published twice a week, and consisting of a single leaf of paper about twice the size of the page now before our' reader's eyes. The first number of the Universal Intelligencer, which appeared about the same time, had two advertisements. Addison on Newsmongers. The eagerness for news, like the green-eyed monster Jealousy, described by Shakspeare, grew by what it fed on, and afforded 195 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. matter for amusement to the graceful wits and social censors of the Augustan age, as it had done for the coarser and more robust satirists of Ben Jonson's time. In No. 452 of the Spectator (itself, by the way, a successor under the same editor, Richard Steele, of the Tatler, which intermixed a little news with essays on morals and manners), Addison, heading the paper with a sage quo- tation from Pliny, to the effect that " human nature is fond of novelty," amuses himself by joking in his mild manner about the absorbing appetite for hearing and reading news displayed by the good folks of his day : " There is no humour in my countrymen which I am more inclined to wonder at than their general thirst after news." He suggests that the reading of history would be quite as exciting and much more satisfactory than the eager perusal of newspapers. "A honest tradesman, who languishes a whole summer in expectation of a battle, and perhaps is baulked at last, may here meet with half a dozen in a day. He may read the news of a whole campaign in less time than he now bestows upon the productions ofa single post. Fights, conquests, and revolutions lie thick together. The reader's curiosity is raised and satisfied every moment, and his passions disappointed or gratified, without being de- tained in a state of uncertainty from day to day, or lying at the mercy of sea and wind. In short, the mind is not here kept in a perpetualgape after knowledge, nor punished with that eternal thirst which is the portion of all our modern newsmongers and coffee- house politicians." The late Mr. Cobden was probably not so well read in Enghsh literature as is his friend Mr. Bright, and perhaps was unacquainted with this Spectator paper, or had forgotten it, when hemade his famous comparison between the educational value of the modern news- paper press and the literature of antiquity, and complained that while a large number of our young men knew all about the position of the cities of Greece, and the battles in which the Spartans and Athenians took part, they knew verylittle of contemporary matters, and could scarcely tell where, for instance, Chicago was situated, or what was done there. If by a spirit of prophecy Addison could have known of Cobden's utterance, it is hkely that he might have smiled serenely, but not at all likely that he would have altered a single word of the following passage : — " All matters of fact which a man did not know before are news to him ; and I do not see how any haberdasher in Cheapside is more concerned in the present quarrels of the Cantons [17 12] than he was in that of the League. At least, I believe everyone will allow me, it is of more importance to an English- man to know the history of his ancestors than those of his contemporaries who live upon the banks of the Danube or the Boristhenes." Satirical Suggestion of Local Newspapers. The placid Spectator then quotes a letter from an imaginary correspondent, "a projector who is willing to turn a penny by this remark- able curiosity of his countrymen," and who suggests the establishment of a local news- paper '' which shall comprehend in it all the most remarkable occurrences in every little town, village, and hamlet that lie within ten miles of London, or, in other words, within the verge of the penny post. Such a means of obtaining information will, I doubt not, be very acceptable to many of those public- spirited readers who take more delight in acquainting themselves with other people's business than their own." The intelligence to be furnished by such a paper is indicated by specimens : — " By my last advices from Knightsbridge, I hear that a horse was clapped into the pound on the 3rd instant, and that he was not released when the letters came away." " By a fisherman which lately touched at Hammersmith there is advice from Putney that a certain person well known in that place is like to lose his election for church warden ; but this being boat news, we cannot give credit to it." Addison had many gifts, but not the gift of the spirit of prophecy. Perhaps he imagined his suggestion of local or parochial newspapers was as unlikely to be realized as was another suggestion which appeared also in the Spectator, that two persons on opposite sides of the globe might be able to communi- cate almost instantaneously with each other. Yet both these wonders have come to pass. We send telegraphic messages to the anti- podes, and there are more than fifty local newspapers, confining themselves exclusively to the news of the neighbourhood in which they appear, published in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis. The city of London alone keeps two special newspapers well supplied with intelligence and advertise- ments mostly of purely local interest. How Addison would have smiled placidly, how Steele would have roared with laughter, how happily might Pope have turned an epigram, or Arbuthnot have launched a witticism, if anybody had seriously proposed an Acton, CJiiswick, and Turnham G)'een Gazette, yet such a publication has existed for more than a dozen years, and appears likely to exist for many years more ; and one metropolitan parish alone, St. Pancras, is represented by two local newspapers. We may learn a lesson from the pleasant "chaff" of Addison: How many of the propositions which appear comical or Utopian to us may be very prac- tical realities to the next generation. 196 THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. Imposition of a Stamp Duty. In the year that Addison wrote the Spec- tator from which we have quoted (1712), by an Act of Parliament (10 Anne, c. 19), a stamp duty of one penny was imposed for a period of thirty-two years. Ten years before, the first daily paper had appeared, the Daily Co7crant, the first number of which was pubhshed on the nth of March, 1702, by E. Mallet, at Fleet-bridge, the locality which has since been the cradle of nearly all the most influential London newspapers. At first it consisted of one page only, with a blank at the back. In those days, it would seem, there were no enterprising advertising agents to " farm " that page. Venerable Newspapers. Five newspapers established before the year 1700 in Great Britain, are still alive : — the London Gazette (1665), Cotcrse of the Exchange (1697), Berrow^s Worcester Jour- nal (1690), Stamjord Merctiry (1695), and the Edinburgh Gazette (1690) ; and seventy- four existing newspapers were first published in the last century, the oldest being the Edinburgh Courant (1705), the Notting- ham yournal (1710), and the Diddin Gazette (171 1). Several of the London dailies which have reached to our days were established in the last century — the Morning Post in 1722 ; the Morning Chronicle (extinct in 1862) in 1769 ; the Public Ledger in 1759 ; the Morn- ing Herald (amalgamated with the Standard in 1869), and the Morning Advertiser in 1794. In 1769, and for two years afterwards, a daily newspaper, the Pjiblic Advertiser, which had lingered for many years in com- parative obscurity, flashed into notoriety, and its issues were eagerly looked for, with fear and trembling by some, the reason being that the powerful and mysterious letters signed "Junius" appeared in its columns. In 1753 it was computed that the aggregate number of newspapers annually sold in Eng- land, on an average of three years, amounted to 7,411,757; in i76oit had risen to 9,464,790; and in 1767 to 11,300,980. In 1758, Johnson wrote in the Idler, " Journals are daily multi- plied without increase of knowledge. The most eager peruser of news is tired before he has completed his labours." Birth and Growth of the " Times." On the 13th of January, 1785, the first number of the London Daily Universal Register was published. Three years after- wards the proprietor changed its title and plan. John Walter was an acute and far- seeing man, a little over sanguine, perhaps, as to the advantage to be gained by the use of Lord Stanhope's " logographic " types, that is, with words and frequent combinations of letters, as affixes and prefixes, cast in one piece, and so presumably saving time in setting up, an advantage by no means realized. On New Year's Day, January 1788, the I^ondon Daily Universal Register did not appear, but in its place there burst upon the world the Tinies, or Daily Universal Register, printed logographically, price three- pence. The imprint announced that it was printed for J. Walter, at the Logographic Press, Printing-house Square, near Apothe- caries' Hall, Blackfriars, and the addresses of persons of whom the newspaper could be obtained were given — among them, confec- tioners, watchmakers, and silk-dyers. The Times so issued was a great advance on previous efforts in journahsm. It consisted of four pages, each with four columns, and had sixty-three advertisements (including naval and official announcements). Poetry appeared in the paper, and there was a fair admixture of what might now be described as paragraphs of society gossip. How since then the Tifnes has grown, what influence it has exerted, how may writers of high political rank and consummate ability have contributed to its columns, what have been its achievements in obtaining early and ample news — a recital of all this would form a deeply interesting chapter of modern English history. On the 28th of November, 1814, the paper was printed on a steam printing machine, made by Konig, the first ever used ; and the latest machine now used for pro- ducing many of the largest newspapers was invented in the Times' office, and bears the name of the Walter Press. A Taxed and Dear Press. In the first quarter of the present century, about a hundred newspapers came into existence in the United Kingdom ; but they had to struggle against heavy imposts. In 1776 the stamp duty had been raised to \\d. for every sheet ; in 1789 had been increased to 2d. ; in 1794 another halfpenny was added ; a penny more in 1797 ; and in 181 5, for every sheet issued, a fourpenny stamp was imposed ; and that rate continued until 1836, when it was reduced to \d. on the sheet and \d. on the supplement. In addition to the stamp, the paper duty, 3^^. per pound for printing paper, was levied ; and on every advertise- ment which appeared, no matter of what length, a duty of y. 6d. was imposed. The publisher of a newspaper was liable to very heavy penalties if he issued an unstamped copy, and was compelled, in London, to send every sheet of paper to Somerset House to be stamped before being printed on ; and in the country, to certain local branches of the Stamp Office. All the expenses of cartage, etc., and the paper duty had to be considered in fixing the price at which the public could 197 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. obtain the newspaper, and every advertiser had to pay y. 6d. beyond the price at which the pubhsher would have been glad to insert the announcement, to meet the duty on advertisements. Advertisers were therefore few, and the publisher of a newspaper was compelled to depend almost entirely on the sale of the paper for support, the price being •consequently high. Newspapers now selling for twopence or a penny a copy then charged sevenpence or eightpence, and it was not particularly easy to make fortunes even on those terms. A Time of Poverty and Discontent. The working and poorer classes could rarely afford to purchase nev/spapers for them- selves. One copy was circulated among the customers of a public-house, or was clubbed for by a dozen readers, and was handed from hand to hand until worn to a rag. The period between the close of the great war in 1815 and the introduction of the Reform Bill in 1 83 1 was a transition period of almost unexampled importance in the annals of this country. The poorer classes suffered terribly ; food was dear, wages low ; there were thou- sands on thousands of unemployed, and the introduction of machinery caused a panic, unfounded, indeed, but terrible in its results. Radicalism began to assume form, and con- sistency. The assertion of abstract rights, the denunciation of the aristocracy, which had been so conspicuous for a few years after the French Revolution, had been for a time in abeyance during the struggle against Napoleon and the outburst of national feel- ing against the French. Enthusiasts and doctrinaires still talked and wrote ; but the master passion of the people was hatred of the French — a fire fanned into almost uncon- trollable excitement by a victory at Trafalgar, or another achievement in the Peninsula by the Great Duke. Peace was signed, the war fever subsided, and the working classes at home were easily persuaded that the upper classes were their natural enemies, that manu- facturers and users of machinery were deadly tyrants, and that the Congress of Vienna was the first step towards a practical reasser- tion of the claim of princes and statesmen to do as they liked, quite independently of the wishes of the people. Riots broke out, machinery was destroyed by " Luddites," who professed to be led by a mythical Cap- tain Ludd (as unreal a personage as the Captain Rock of Ireland, or the Rebecca of Wales) ; and Luddites, when caught, were mercilessly hanged. Radical leaders with considerable oratorical powers, Radical writers ready with the pen, inflamed the popular mind. Meetings were held and suppressed by force. At St Peter's Field, long afterwards known as Peterloo, the site on which now stands the Free Trade Hall of Manchester, a meeting summoned by Henry Hunt to prepare a petition for the reform of Parliament was suppressed by military force, six persons being killed and many wounded. In the same year the famous, or infamous (some persons prefer the latter epithet). Six Acts, better known as the Gagging Acts, were passed for the purpose of suppressing seditious meetings. Suffering and writhing under what it v/as not unnatural to consider as oppression, hundreds and thousands of the working and lower middle classes cultivated this Radical- ism, and nursed their wrath. Resistance to political authority, if it dared not be open, was not the less sullen and resolute ; and with dislike to political authority was allied dislike and distrust of religious teaching. Freedom, it came to be thought (as it was thought in the revolutionary times in France), could only be achieved by a subversion of all institutions, and with the institutions must go the faiths on which they were based. Stronger and stronger grew these volcanic forces, more alarming the indica- tions of a possible earthquake. The Reform riots were an ominous muttering, and the concession on the part of King and Lords was none too early. The popular leaders naturally desired an outlet in the news- paper press for the advocacy of their opinions ; but the press was so heavily weighted that the influence of even the most democratic journals was comparatively feeble ; and the law which rendered the pub- lishers of newspapers liable to imprisonment and fine for articles offensive to the Crown or the Government was an additional check of no slight povven A free press was demanded, but a free press was exactly what the Ministers of the day were not disposed to concede. Defying and Evading the Law. A few active spirits on the popular side resolved to evade, or even defy, the law. The people, in the language of a writei' of the time, were "hungry and thirsty for news and political controversy." Weekly pamphlets appeared with digests of general news and political information, and sold for twopence I a copy. They were eagerly bought, for a regular newspaper could not be procured for less than sevenpence. In 1830, Mr. William Carpenter, a journalist, a clear and forcible writer, possessed of considerable political information and an ardent Radical, dis- covered, as he sup[)osed, a mode by which he could produce an equivalent to a newspaper, and yet evade the law. The result proved ! that he was more ingenious than successful. I He issued a prospectus of a puWication I entitled Political Letter, and headed the 98 THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. .•announcement with the title, " Liberty of the Press Asserted." After adverting to and denouncing the Acts of Parliament by which the publication of newspapers was regulated, Mr. Carpenter proceeded to say that he had -discovered a method of evading them. He intended to bring out his publication at irregular periods, and in such a form that the numbers would be apparently unconnected with each other. It was astonishing, he remarked, that persons connected with the newspaper trade had not already discovered so obvious a mode of evading the law. His publication would assume the form of a ""Political Letter," addressed to a friend or enemy, as the case inight be, and containing a comprehensive digest of important events and passing occurrences, with original obser- vations by himself The price of each ^' Political Letter " was to be fourpence ; and as no newspaper which paid the stamp duty -could be brought out at that price, he reckoned on a circulation extensive in pro- portion to the cheapness of the paper. Being a practical man, v/ith an eye to busi- ness, Mr. Carpenter reminded advertisers that his publication afforded them a capital opportunity of appealing to the purchasing public. In the first number, " A Letter to the Duke of Wellington," Mr. Carpenter said : ■"' Believing that your Grace is often greatly misled as to what is going forward in the world, I have resolved to avail myself of this correspondence to lay before you a faithful chronicle of passing events, from which I am sure your Grace will not fail to derive materials for serious reflection, and for the framing, also, of some public measure of importance." Then follows a summary of intelligence from France, Belgium, and other places. In the next number, "A Monitory Letter to Sir Robert Peel," that statesman is treated to reports of a parish meeting in St. Pancras, of a political bancjuet at Birming- ham, and of stack-burning and other out- arages in Kent, besides the official summary of the state of the revenue, a considerable amount of foreign intelligence, doings in the •corn, hay, and meat markets, and in the money market, preceded by the announce- ment, " The following information, Sir Robert, will be useful to you." A Success and a Prosecution. The first " Political Letter " appeared in an octavo form, but was so successful that a larger page was adopted, with woodcut caricatures and devices as headings, very much in the style of George Cruikshank's illustrations to the pamphlets and political skits published by William Hone, but exhibiting far less humour and finish, and probably by Robert Cruikshank, George's brother and far-oif imitator. The circula- tion, about S,ooo for the first " Letter," made a jump to 19,000, and ultimately reached 63,000, a prodigious number for those days. Of course the Government determined to take action in the matter ; but the Duke of Wellington's administration went out of office in November 1830, and Earl Grey's ministry, which followed, had for a time other matters to think about. At length, however, on the 14th of May, 1831, Mr. William Carpenter appeared in the Court of Exchequer on an information filed by the Attorney-General (Sir Thomas Denman, subsequently Lord Chief Justice), at the instance of the Commissioners of the Stamp Duties. The information contained twelve counts, in some of which the defendant was charged with having published and exposed for sale a certain weekly newspaper without having previously made and deposited in the office of the Commissioners the affidavit required in such cases by the 38th George III., c. 78. For every insta.nce of publication without such affidavit the defendant became liable to a penalty of ^100. In other counts the defendant was charged with " having on divers days " published a weekly newspaper, without having paid the duty of fourpence imposed upon every number of every such paper, by the 55th of the same King ; and for every omission in the payment of the duty he had incurred a penalty of £10. The publication was charged to have taken place upon the 9th of October, 1830, and on six- teen other subsequent days, and the descrip- tion of the paper was varied by calling it " a paper answering the purposes of a newspaper, and containing news, intel- ligence, or occurrences." The Attorney- General contended that the publication was a newspaper according to the definition given of a newspaper in the Act 60, George III., cap. 9 : — "All pamphlets and papers containing any public news, intelligence, or occurrences, or any remarks or observations thereon, or upon any matter in Church and State, printed in any part of the United Kingdom, for sale, and published periodi- cally, or in parts or numbers, at intervals not exceeding twenty-six days between the publication of any two such pamphlets or papers, parts or numbers, where any of the said pamphlets or papers, parts or numbers respectively, shall not exceed two sheets, or shall be published for a less sum than six- pence exclusive of the duty, shall be deemed and taken to be newspapers, within the true intent and meaning of the several statutes." Mr. Carpenter addressed the jury for six hours ; but the Lord Chief Baron (Lord Lynd- hurst) said, in summing up, that he was most clearly of opinion that the paper was a news- paper, and the jury returned a verdict for the Crown. The Attorney-General pressed 199 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. for only one penalty for each class of offences, amounting to only ^120 ; but the defendant was of course liable for the amount of the stamp duty on the whole of his pub- lication. Yielding to the necessities of the case, Mr. Carpenter took out a stamp, so converting his publication into a regular newspaper, and charged sevenpence a copy. The result was an immediate fall of the circulation to five hundred, and very soon afterwards the " Letters " died. The former purchasers not only objected to the increased price, but the publication was no longer a defiance of the law, and was therefore uninteresting. impressed at Somerset House on news- papers; but in the centre was the repre- sentation of a printing-press, with " Liberty of the Press " marked on the sheet just lifted from the types ; and above and below it, in the places filled in the real stamp by the amount of the duty, the phrase, " Knowledge is power." In the prehminary announce- ment on the first page, there was an abundance of italics, capitals, and dashes, then considered essential to vigorous political writing, and so plentifully em- ployed by Cobbett and others. A short specimen may be enough for more modern readers : — The Walter Press. William Hetherington in the Field. Another and more doughty champion, with a clearer perception of the popular taste, then appeared in the field. William Hetherington, a bookseller and newsvendor in the neighbourhood of Holborn, published on the 9th of July, 1831, the first number, price one penny, of the Poor Man's Guar- dian, announcing it to be " established contrary to law, to try the power of might against right." It consisted of eight pages, about the size of the well-known Family Herald of later days. In the upper corner of the first page appeared a device j-esembling in size and shape the stamp then " We buckle on our armour of patience and per- severance—we draw forth our sword of reason, and we brave the whole host of tyranny. Defiance is our only remedy ; — we cannot be a slave in all : we submit to much— for it is impossible to be wholly consistent — but we will try, step by step, the power of RIGHT against might, and we will begin by pro- tecting and upholding this grand bulwark and defence of all our rights— this key to all our liberties — THE FREEDOM OF THE PRESS — the press, ioo, of the IGNORANT and the POOR ! We have taken upon ourselves its protection, and we will never abandon our post ; we will die rather . . . ' THE POOR MAN'S guardian' will contain 'news, intelligence, and occurrences^ and ' remarks and observations thereon^ and ' iipon matters in. Church a?id State, leading, decidedly, to excite hatred and contempt of the Govern- ment and Constitution of the tyramiy of this country, as BY LAW established, ' and also ' to vilify the abuses THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. of religion'' . . . despite the 'laws' or the will and pleasure of auy tyiant or a7i.y body of tyrants, what- soever, anything hereinbefore, or any-where-else, contained to the contrary, notwithstanding." This comical and audacious paraphrase of the technical language of the Act of Parlia- ment he was so deliberately violating was rather a neat specimen of Mr. Hetherington's vein of humour. The first number contained reports of Mr. Hetherington's appeal to the Middlesex Sessions against a conviction obtained by the Corhmissioner of StnmDs at Bow Street Police Court ; of the trial of Cobbett for publishing an article in his "Register;" and articles on \ the trial of i the Rev. R. Taylor for b 1 a s p h e my, and the pro- ceedings in Parliament, with abun- dance of italics and capitals, inter- iections of "Oh! oh!" and "Ha! ha !" and an amount of strong lan- guage and full-flavoured e p i t h e t s rather trying to the nerves of readers accus- tomed to the more elegant and certainly not less vigor- ous journalism of the present day. Many Prosecutions and Punishments. Between 1831 and 1835, about seven hundred prosecutions for selling unstamped newspapers were instituted, and nearly rive hundred persons suffered rine or imprison- ment. Some of the offenders were mere sellers, whose political opinions were nil ; others, like Hetherington, were men of con- siderable ability, who fought for a cause as well as for the means of establishing a pro- fitable trade in cheap newspapers. One of these men was John Cleave, a dealer in newspapers and periodicals, who was after- wards a prominent, able, and temperate member of the Chartists' Convention which met in the large room of the Dr. Johnson Tavern in Bolt Court, Fleet Street, a year or two before the abortive demonstration on Kensington Common, in which Chartist agitation ended so ignominiously. One of the projects for evading the stamp duty was the production of a "Political Handkerchief," on which items of news and comments should be printed, which would, the suggestor argued, " answer all the ends of a weekly j ournal." We wonder whether Dickens was thinking oi this when he made Old Weller talk about send- ing "moral pockethand- kerchers to the young niggers." There was unquestiona- bly a wide- spread sym- pathy with the persis- tent attempts to obtain a cheap press. Politicians of the " a d - vanced " or- der desired an extended means of ap- pealing to the masses of the people ; and men of literary tastes o b j e c t e d in the abstract to the " taxes on knowledge," as the imposts began to be called. A Parliamentary champion of great popularity as an author and no mean powers as an orator soon appeared upon the scene. " PELHAM " TO THE RESCUE. On the 14th of June, 1832, the author of "Pelham," Mr.Edward Lytton Bulwer,moved in the House of Commons these four resolu- tions : — '' I, That all taxes which impede the diffusion of knowledge are injurious to the best interests of the people ; 2, That it is pecu- liarly expedient at the present time to repeal Mr. Kwart .moving the Repeal of the Advertisement Duty. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the stamp duty on newspapers ; 3, That it is also peculiarly expedient to repeal or to reduce the duty on advertisements ; 4, That it is expedient, in order to meet the present state of the revenue, to appoint a select com- mittee to consider the propriety of establish- ing a cheap postage on newspapers and other publications." In his speech he remarked, " A newspaper was in truth almost the only publication (rehgious ones excepted) that the poorer classes were ever tempted to read ; and above all, it was the only one in which they could learn those laws for the trans- gression of which ignorance was no excuse. A newspaper, then, was among the most popular and effectual modes of instructing the people." The speaker then proceeded to describe the existing taxes on newspapers, — • a duty of threepence per pound weight on the paper, or about a farthing a sheet ; a duty of fourpence on every copy of a weekly paper, with a discount of twenty per cent^ for a daily paper, and a tax of 3^-. 6d. upon every advertisement. Comparing the results of an untaxed press in America with a taxed press in this country, he showed that in the British Islands there was only one paper a week for every thirty-six of the population, while in Pennsylvania there was a newspaper to every fourth inhabitant. The cause of this discrepancy was that in one country the newspaper sold for less than a fourth of what it sold for in the other. In one year twelve of the daily papers in New York had published 1,456,416 advertisements ; but in the same year the 400 papers of Great Britain had published 1,020,000 advertise- ments. In America, advertisements could be inserted at a low rate ; in this country, in consequence of the duty levied by Govern- ment, the price was high, "the charge for the insertion of an advertisement of twenty lines in a London paper, if published every day throughout the year, would' amount at the year's end to ^202 16s. In New York, the same advertisement for the same period would be ^6 18^. 8rf." It was scarcely fair, however, for Mr. Bulvver to attribute all this "preposterous disparity "' to the advertisement duty, which on the 313 insertions in the London daily paper amounted only to ^54 15^., the remainder of the total being charged by the proprietors of the paper ; and, after all, the balance of the charge (^148 \s. od.), after deducting the duty, was a matter for the consideration of the advertiser himself, for if he had not derived an advantage from paying tt, he would have ceased to do so ; and that advantage probably was greatly in excess of that experienced by the New York advertiser who paid only a little less than £7 in the course of the year. Cheap Postage Suggested. To compensate in some measure for the removal of the stamp and advertisement duties, Mr. Bulwer suggested a cheap postage for printed matter, that all news- papers, poems, pamphlets, tracts, circulars, printed publications of whatever descrip- tion and weighing less than two ounces, should circulate, through the medium of the General Post, at the rate of one penny ; if through the twopenny or threepenny post, at a halfpenny. He would also propose that all works under five ounces should circulate through the same channels, and at a low and graduated charge. Bulwer has many claims on the admiration of his countrymen ; but, perhaps, few persons know how nearly he approached the proposition for establishing cheap postage. In the course of his speech he asked, " What could be so monstrous a principle as that any tax should be requisite for a man to publish his opinions 1 A tax on opinion is a persecution of opinion ; it is a persecution of poverty also. If we say that no one shall declare his sentiments without paying a certain sum, and if, not being able to afford that sum, he yet does publish his sentiments, and is fined (that is, in conse- quence of his poverty, cast into prison) for the offence, you punish him not for the badness of his opinions, but you punish him, that, being poor, he yet dares to express opinions at all. We have been monopolizing the distribution of other blessings, let us, at least, leave opinion untaxed, unfettered, the property of all men. ... Is it not time to consider whether the printer and his types may not provide better for the peace and honour of a free state than the jailer and the hangman ? — whether, in one word, cheap knowledge may not be a better political agent than costly punishment ? " Lord Althorp, on the part of the Govern- ment', thinking that it was not a fitting time for discussing the subject, which required a con- siderable amount of preliminary inquiry, and involved financial considerations, moved the previous question. Mr. O'Connell, in a brief and temperate speech, supported the reso- lution ; and after some debate, Mr. Bulvver, yielding to what he perceived to be the general feeling of the House, withdrew his motion, announcing, however, that he would reintroduce it at some future time. Vested Interests. The proprietors of the existing newspapers were by no means anxious for a i-eduction of the duties, Avhich would bring a host of rivals into the field. Readers were daily increasing, and their only choice lay among the journals de facto. The stamp, advertise- ments and paper duties were paid by the THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. publit, not by the owners of the newspapers, who, perhaps, however, would not have objected to a shght reduction of the adver- tisement duty sufficient to attract more advertisers, but not to encourage new ventures in journahsm. The London daily papers were the Times, steadily rising in circulation and influence ; the Morning Chronicle, a formidable rival ; the Morning Post, beloved of the fashionable world ; the Morning Herald, champion of the Tories and the clergy (sometimes disrespectfully styled " my grandmother"), and \!a.& Morning Advei'tiser, the publicans' paper. There were three -evening papers, the Standard, Tory, under the editorship of Dr. Giffard, a slashing writer ; the Courier, a very ably conducted journal, and enterprising in the matter of foreign news ; and the Globe, a Whig organ. The leading weeklies were, for the agricultu- rally minded country gentlemen. Bell's IVeekly Messenger J the Observer, credited with extraordinary means of obtaining political and official information ; BelV s Life in Eondon, the oracle without a rival of all who were interested in horse-racing, pugilism, ratting, pedestrianism, yachting, and angling ; the Sunday Times, started by the once ardent Radical, Daniel Whittle Harvey, Member for Finsbury, and afterwards Commissioner of the City Police ; and, last and biggest, the Weekly Dispatch, Radical to the backbone. The last-named newspaper had attained an enormous circulation for those times, by its vigorous denunciation of the Police and the new Poor Laws ; the audacious and often outrageously outspoken letters signed " Pubh- cola," written by Daniel Williams, and letters of a different kind, signed " Censorius," by a writer named Whittle, who attacked com- mon informers and tricks of trade generally. This great Radical paper, of course, had, in the abstract, the greatest desire to advo- cate popular liberties, but could scarcely be expected to approve of the conduct of Hetherington, when he started an unstamped Eondon Dispatch, imitating the tone as well as the title of the original, and selling it for less than a third of the price. The provincial newspapers, many of which are now so able and influential, rivalling the leading metro- politan organs, were little known beyond their own localities, and did not possess London offices and agents in Fleet Street as they do now. At this time there were about3oo news- papers in existence in the United Kmgdom. Reduction of the Duties. In 7833, the advertisement duty was reduced to is. 6d. ; and in 1836, the stamp duty was lowered to id. In that year, we hnd from an official return, 36,000,000 stamps were impressed. The opposition to " the taxes on knowledge " — a phrase by that time in general use — grew in activity. An asso- ciation was formed, with an active secretary, Mr. Collet, and no exertions were spared to interest the people in the subject, and urge upon Parliament the necessity of repealing the taxation. That such a remis- sion was right in principle few denied ; and it was only because they could not see their way to sparing the money that one Chancellor of the Exchequer after another turned a deaf ear to the appeal. Newspaper proprietors saw that it must come, and "resigned themselves to the inevitable," doing their best in the meanwhile to " make hay while the sun shone." The Times was a colossal property, priding itself on being one of the institutions of the country, and could afford to smile at the idea of competi- tion ; the Dispatch yielded a profit of about ^20,000 a year to the proprietors, and, with an enormous capital at command, hoped to be able to hold its own. There was, in those days, no Renter to supply telegraphic in- formation (the telegraph, like Guy Fawkes in the once popular comic song, " warn't aborn till arter that ") to all comers at a fixed rental, and intelligence of important events could only be obtained at a great outlay, by relays of post-horses, mounted messengers, and, as railways became avail- able, by special engines, costing large sums of money. No doubt if the imposts were removed, many new journals would be started ; but something more than ambition and enterprise would be required, and the wealthy occupiers of the position knew by experience — an experience very amply con- firmed in later years— that although some large fortunes could be made, many more could be lost in newspaper speculations. Publication of the Stai\ip Returns. One incident of the stamp duty was objectionable to some newspaper proprietors, — the annual publication of the number of stamps issued, specifying the number required by each newspaper. As a stamp on every copy was compulsory, of course the circula- tion of each journal was made known, and advertisers were able to judge of the advan- tages offered. The great newspapers were pleased with this, because their superiority in circulation was officially announced ; but the others objected to their comparative poverty being made known. So great, on the whole, was the objection to this return, that it was discontinued in 1837 ; but when a committee (the proceedings of which will presently be referred to) was appointed in 1851, it called for the omitted returns, and they were pub- lished as an appendix to the report. Early in the session of 1853, Mr. Brotherton moved for a continuation of the return, but the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Mr. Glad- 203 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. stone) refused to assent to the motion, on the ground that it would be an unjustifi- able interference with the private business of the proprietors of newspapers, and the Government objected to publish private information respecting any classes of persons en"-aged in business— "the returns of income might as well be made public." Mr. Brother- ton withdrew the motion. Mr. Ewart's Motion. The Parhamentary advocates of the remis- sion of the taxes were not idle. On the yth of May, 1850, Mr. Ewart intro- duced a resolu- tion for the re- peal of the ad- vert! sement duty, described by him as " a tax which pressed upon literature to such a degree that Mr. M'CuUoch did not hesitate to characterize it as amongst the heaviest burdens in the way of taxation that impeded the production of literary works It was a tax on the poor, for the humble authoi of a sixpenn\ pamphlet. the distressed needlewoman on her appeal foi employment, paid as heav} a tax as the wealthier capi talist upon the amount of a vast estate foi sale." Previous to the reduc- tion of the duty in 1833, the number of advertisements in newspapers averaged 700,000 or 800,000 a year ; but after the reduction they gradually increased until they reached about 2,000,000 annually ; and, argued Mr. Ewart, that increase was un- doubtedly due to the reduction of the duty from 3J. 6^. to \s. 6d. Mr. Milner Gibson seconded the resolution. Sir Charles Wood, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, opposed the motion on the part of the Government. " It was utterly impossible," he said, " that the financial credit of the country could be sustained if all the sources of pubHc income were frittered away," — a discovery certainly very creditable to the astuteness of the Chancellor. On a division, the resolution was supported by 39 votes ; but there were 208 against it. Among those who voted in the minority were Hume, Cobden, and Bright. A Rich Harvest of Advertisements; The Railway Mania. A striking proof of the pecuniary value of advertisements to newspaper proprietors was afforded at the time of the great railway mania of 1845, when so many schemes were launched, when draughts- m e n were worked to death m preparing plans to be de- posited at the Board of Trade, when extem- porised sur- veyors and levellers cropped up by the thousand, and when the newspapers pub- lished sixteen or even twenty-four extra pages of advertisements, the prospectuses of new lines possible or im- possible. Dozens of newspapers assuming rail- way titles were started for the sake of the ad- ver tisements, and for a few weeks went on merrily. One daily paper, even, the Iro^t Times, was launched by a clever journalist, Thomas Littleton Holt, who had gained a large experience as a projector of periodicals, and for a time it was a flourishing concern. When the adver- tisements disappeared, when " stags " ceased to gamble around the Stock Exchange, and "scrip" was no more the absorbing subject of everybody's talk, the papers vanished as suddenly as they had appeared, and the ingenious projectors were left to seek new resources in " fresh fields and pastures new. MiLNER Gibson opposing the Taxes on Knowledge 204 THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. Report of a Parliamentary Committee. On the 7th of April, 185 1, a Select Com- mittee of the House of Commons was appointed to inquire into the present state and condition of newspaper stamps. The members were — Mr. Milner Gibson, Mr. Tufnell, Mr. Ker Seymer, Mr. Rich, Mr. Stafford, Mr. Cobden, Mr. G. A. Hamilton, Sir Joseph Walmsley, Sir T. F. Lewis, Mr. Chichester Fortescue, Colonel Mure, Mr. Shafto Adair, Mr. Ewart, Mr. Sotheran, and Sir W. Molesworth. A considerable number of witnesses, among them several proprietors and managers of important newspapers, were examined ; and on the conclusion of their labours the Committee reported to the House; and there can be little doubt that the report considerably influenced Parlia- mentary opinion. In the last paragraphs the Committee said : — " The established newspapers, particularly the London daily press, collect the valuable information which they report to the public at a very great expense, and publish it at a very costly celerity. It has been stated, that if the newspaper duty were abolished, there would be a great temptation to the numerous halfpenny and penny pubhcations which would then spring up to pirate the public intelligence collected at so much cost and exertion. It has been proposed that some short privilege of copyright should therefore be conferred. In conclusion, your Committee consider it their duty to direct attention to the objections and abuses incident to the present system of newspaper stamps, arising from the difficulty of defin- ing and determining the meaning of the term ' news,' and the inequalities which exist in the application of the Newspaper Stamp Act, and the anomalies and evasions that it occasions in postal arrangements ; to the unfair competition to which stamped newspapers are exposed with unstamped publications ; to the limitation imposed by the stamp upon the circulation of the best newspapers, and to the impediment which it throws in the way of the diffusion of useful knowledge regarding current and recent events among the poorer classes, which species of knowledge, relating to subjects which most obviously interest them, call out the intelligence by awakening the curiosity of those classes. How far it may be expedi- ent that this tax should be maintained as a source of revenue, either in its present or any modified form, your Committee do not feel themselves called upon to state ; other con- siderations not within their province would anter into that question. But, apart from financial considerations, they do not consider that news is of itself a desii'able subject of taxation." Effect of the Stamp on Supplements. In the next session (April 22nd, 1852), Mr. Milner Gibson, who had on the former occasion supported Mr. Ewart, took the lead in opposing the taxes on knowledge by pro- posing resolutions on the subject. He asserted, on the authority of Mr. Mowbray Morris, manager of the Times, that the effect of the stamp duty on the supplements (one halfpenny) was to render it necessary for the managers to prevent the circulation going beyond a certain amount ; for when the fund for the advertisements in supple- ments was exhausted, then, as far as the supplement was concerned, profit ended and loss began, so that the circulation must be stopped. " Thus," continued Mr. Gibson, " the effect of the stamp is first to lessen the circulation of the leading paper to half what it might be, and also to effect all the other papers by causing a declining circulation, and, what was worse than all, to prevent the working classes from having any newspaper at all." The resolution affecting the paper duty — " That such financial arrangements ought to be made as will enable Parliament to dis- pense with the duty on paper"— was first debated. Mr. Disraeli, Chancellor of the Exchequer, opposed the resolution, not on principle, but because " we must consider the ability which we have to relieve the industry of the country, and which is the wisest direction in which we can move, so as to redress any wrong or to effect any good." On the resumption of the debate a fortnight afterwards, Rlr. Cowan, Member for Edin- burgh, and a paper manufacturer, supported the resolution, and Mr. Gladstone spoke at some length, to the effect that he objected to support an abstract resolution which might embarrass the Government in its financial plans, but he should be heartily glad when the time came that the duty might be repealed. Mr. Hume spoke strongly in favour of the resolution, reminding the House that the question was not that they should immediately repeal the paper duty, but that financial arrangements ought to be made which would enable Parliament to dis- pense with that duty ; and, with regard to the results of its removal, he said that he knew of persons who were at that moment ready to embark ^20,000 in a daily news- paper to be sold for a halfpenny. The three resolutions were lost by majorities of 88, 99, and 65. Dickens's " Household Narrative." A new interest was imparted to the ques- tion in the following December. Mr. Charles Dickens had started a monthly summary of news, entitled the Household Narrative, 205 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. similar in size and general appearance to his popular HotiseJiold Words. The idea was not original, for nearly twenty years before, at the time when Carpenter and Hetherington were endeavouring to establish unstampednewspapers,thebrothers Chambers of Edinburgh started Chainber^ Historical Newspaper, to be published on the ist of every month, at the price of threehalfpence. The first number, of sixteen pages folio, ap- peared on Friday, November 2nd, 1832. The publication not only called itself a news- paper, but actually was one, containing foreign, colonial and home news, " latest news of the month," prices of the public funds, lists of bankrupts, etc., etc., and social and political leaders. At the end of three years it was discontinued. Although sanctioned by this precedent, the Stanip Office authorities considered the Household Narrative\.o be a newspaper within the meaning of the Act, although published at intervals of more than twenty-six days, and therefore liable to stamp duty. An information was filed against Messrs. Brad- bury and Evans, the publishers ; and three of the four judges of the Court of Exchequer were of opinion that the publication was liable to the duty, but Mr. Baron Parke held that it was not liable. An appeal to the Court of Exchequer Chamber would have been made, but Lord Derby's ministry went out of office on the 17th of Decem- ber, and was succeeded by the ministry formed by the Earl of Aberdeen. Mr. Gladstone, the new Chancellor of the Exche- quer, thought it right to adhere to the opinion of the majority of the Court; and being extremely anxious, for the sake of literature, to prevent the litigation likely to occur, in order to settle the question definitely, the Attorney-General, Sir Alexander Cockburn, obtained leave to bring in a Bill to amend the law, and give a substantive definition of a newspaper which would exclude from the operation of the stamp duty the publication in question, and other publications of a like nature containing news, but not published at intervals of less that twenty-six days. On the second reading of the Bill, the Attorney- General pointed out that, under the existing definition, a paper sold for more than six- pence was not liable to the duty. The object was to establish the law and make it uniform with regard to all classes of newspapers, whether large or small. The Bill was read a second time without a division, and receiving no opposition in the Lords^ became law. Success of Mr. Milner Gibson. The early part of the session of 1853 was marked by another effort on the part of Mr. Milner Gibson, who, on the 14th of April, a few days before the time fixed for the intro- duction of the Budget, again submitted his three resolutions, and notwithstanding the protest of Mr. Gladstone against abstract resolutions on financial matters before th© introduction of the ministerial scheme, carried that which referred to the advertisement duty by a majority of 31, the number being 200 to 169. The resolution respecting the newspaper stamp was lost by 98 to 280. It was almost compulsory on Mr. Glad- stone to include a reduction, if not abolition^ of the advertisement duty in his Budget. A resolution passed by a considerable majority of the House must not be shghted even by the most powerful of ministers. The Budget was introduced four days after the discus- sions on Mr. Gibson's resolutions ; and Mr. Gladstone proposed to discontinue the stamps on newspaper supplements, and to reduce the advertisement duty to sixpence. He was evidently annoyed at the interference by resolution with his carefully prepared scheme. In the previous debate he had said that if the House undertook to settle the ways and means by resolutions introduced by private members, the office of Chancellor of the Exchequer might as well be abolished. When, on the ist of July, the resolution for reducing the advertisement duty to sixpence was formally put to the Committee, Mr. Milner Gibson moved as an amendment " that all duties now chargeable on advertise- ments be repealed in accordance with a resolution of the House on the 14th of April last." Mr. Cobden supported the amend- ment, which, however, was rejected by a majority of 12 ; 97 voting for it, and 109 against. Mr. Crawford then moved, that instead of the figure 6, a cipher (o) should be inserted. On a division the Government was beaten by a majority of five ; and when the amended resolution was put as a substan- tive motion it was carried by 70 against 60. The mode of procedure appeared unusual, and Mr. Hume, who certainly was in favour of the remission of the duty, asked the Speaker if the House were in order in carrying a resolution so worded. The Speaker decided that the amendment was strictly in order ; and so, to the unconcealed annoyance of the Chancellor of the Exchequer,, the duty on advertisements passed into the limbo of dead imposts, and was seen no more. Abolition of the Newspaper Stamp. One great step in advance had been made, but much more remained to be achieved. In 1854, the indomitable Mr. Milner Gibsork succeeded in carrying a resolution in favour of discontinuing the stamp ; and in the following session an Act (18 and 19 Vic. cap. 27) was passed, by which the stamp on 206 THE PENNY NEWSPAPER. newspapers, as such, was abolished, except that it would be employed henceforth for postal purposes only. In introducing the Bill, tfie Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir George Cornewall Lewis, acknowledged that the subject had become "not simply a question whether we shall retain, or shall not retain, a revenue of _;;^20o,ooo, but it is whether we shall enter on a crusade against a large portion of the existing newspaper press for the sake of enforcing a law which can only be enforced by the verdicts of juries, which are sometimes doubtful in their result." The second read- ing of the Bill was carried in the Commons by a majority of 54, and in the Lords no division took place. The public received the benefit of the reduction, paying a penny less for a news- paper ; and of course the circulation of the journals increased considerably, and many new ones were started, many of them, how- ever, doomed to an early death. That was a wonderful year for newspapers, the incidents of the war in the Crimea being of painful and absorbing interest. The Rise of Reuter. The time was at hand, however, when the practical monopoly enjoyed by the wealthy newspapers was to receive a shock. Mr. Reuter, an industrious purveyor of commer- cial and monetary intelligence for the Con- tinent, was perfecting arrangements des- tined almost to revolutionize the machinery by which newspapers obtained intelligence. On New Year's Day, 1859, the Emperor of the French, at the diplomatic levee, addressed some ominous words to the Austrian ambas- sador, rightly taken as a prelude to a declara- tion of war. An agent of Mr. Reuter flashed the words across the Channel, and the Times published them, before they were known even to the Ministers themselves. The readers at first disbelieved, then doubted, then becameaware that Mr. Reuter was indeed a wonderful personage, whose unknown agents possessed marvellous means of procuring intelligence. Very soon it appeared that he had means of obtaining authoritative news from almost every part of the habitable globe. He established an office, and for an annual subscription any newspaper could receive copies of all the telegrams which arrived at any hour of the day or night. The small papers paid the subscription, and were at once on an equality with the Times, Standa7-d, or Daily N'ezas ; the provincial papers published at Manchester, Leeds, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and almost everywhere else, had preciselythe same intelligence which the metropolitan newspapers could supply, and at the same time, having received it by telegraph from Renter's oftice in London. From the office in Moorgate Street an active brigade of lads were perpetually carrying the orange-colouredenvelopes, containing "mani- fold,"ormore familiarly " flimsy,"copiesof the telegrams received. The success of the plan was complete, and the unfailing authenticity of the telegraphic intelligence supplied by Reuter inspired the public with confidence. It is not too much to say, that an absolute contradiction of news furnished by his agents is almost unknown. In another way, not only Reuter's system, but the use of the submarine and other telegraphs generally, greatly affected newspapers. Not only were they all nearly on a level as to the receipt of intelligence, but the brief telegraphic infor- mation "discounted" the interest of the detailed narrative. Formerly the result and the details came together ; now theelaborated story had the freshness taken off it by the few words passed through the wire, and' was perused at leisure almost as stale news. Times had changed, and newspapers changed with them. Battle of the Paper Duty. But the paper duty remained. At length Mr. Gladstone succeeded in removing the burden ; and the mode by which he did sO' marks a memorable episode in Parliamentary history. The great Budget of i860, that famous modification and rearrangement of so many imposts, included a proposition for totally abolishing the excise duty on paper. The remissionwasintendednotonlyas a relief to the book and newspaper trade — not only as the removal of the last remaining of the taxes on knowledge, but was applicable to many other trades and manuflictures in which paper could be advantageously employed. Mr. Gladstone said he had received com- munications from the representatives of sixty- nine trades in which paper could be made use of if the duty did not stand in the way. He proposed that the duty should be abolished afterthe istof July. Theimmediate loss to the revenue would be ^1,100,000; but so much less labour would be required in the Inland Revenue establishment that a yearly saving of ^20,000 would be eft'ected. j The Chancellor also proposed to get rid of the impressed stamp on newspapers for postal purposes. There was considerable opposition in the House of Commons to the abolition of the paper duty ; and divisions were taken at every stage, the majorities in favour of the resolution being less and less. The Bill founded on the resolution passed, however ; but when it reached the House of Lords, Lord Monteagle moved its rejection, and found a powerful supporter in Lord Lyndhurst, who, although in his eighty-ninth year, made 207 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. occasional displays in the House which showed that " e'en in their ashes lived the wonted fires." He emphatically declared that the House of Peers had a right to refuse assent to propositions for repealing taxation ; and that in the existing state of European politics it would be most unwise to reduce the revenue which might be called on to meet great emergencies. The cheap press was not popular with many members of the House, who thought that to cheapen paper would be to offer facilities for disseminating dangerous, if not absolutely revolutionary doctrines. The foreboding of the aged Lyndhurst, combined with this dislike, caused the Bill to be rejected by a majority of 80. Lord Palmerston, the Prime Minister, was not the man to accept this rebuff quietly. He at once obtained the appointment of a Committee of the House of Commons to inquire into the practice of each House with regard to Bills imposing or repealing taxes. The Committee met, examined witnesses, and carefully inquired into precedents, and came to the conclusion that the Lords had a con- stitutional right to reject a Bill imposing a tax. One member of the Committee, no less a person than Mr. Bright, dissented from the conclusion, and drew up a report of his own, in which he denied that the Lords had a right to reimpose a tax which the Commons had repealed, because if they did so, the Commons would not have absolute control over the taxation of the country. Palmerston appears to have accepted Mr. Bright's view, for on the presentation of the Committee's report, he proposed and carried a series of resolutions, re-affirming the claim of the Commons to " a rightful control over taxation and supply." Mr. Gladstone, always nervously sensitive to a " snub," protested against " the gigantic innovation ; " but Lord Palmerston took the matter more easily. Mr. Gladstone would have liked to fight the matter out at once, had time permitted ; but it was absolutely necessary to settle the finances for the year, and he contented himself with carrying a resolution for removing, in accordance with the provisions of the commercial treaty with France, so much of the Customs duty on im- ported paper as exceeded the Excise duty on paper made in this country. He had another arrow in his quiver. Gladstone's Tactics. On the 15th of April, 1861, the Chancellor of the Exchequer came forward with another Budget, and announced that he estimated a surplus of nearly ^^2,000,000, and among other remission of taxation proposed to repeal the paper duty. After considerable opposition the resolu- tion was carried, and then Mr. Gladstone announced that he intended to include all the resolutions in one Bill, and in that form the Bill went up to the House of Lords, where it passed without a division, their Lordships apparently not desiring to continue the fight. The Penny Press a Triumphant Fact. The Newspaper Press was at length free from special imposts. One by one the adver- tisement duty, the stamp duty, and the paper duty had disappeared ; and the effect was a general lowering of price to the public and the appearance of many new journals. Most of the weeklies, Lloyd's, Reynolds's, the Weekly Times, among them, reduced their price to one penny. The Dispatch held out till 1869, then came down to twopence, and in 1 87 1 accepted its fate and fell to the inevitable penny. On Friday, January 29th, 1855, appeared the first number of the Daily Telegj-aph and Courier, price twopence. It consisted of four full-sized pages and twenty-four columns. In an announce- ment as the leading article the editor said, "We have resolved that the advertising columns of the Telegraph and Courier shall in no instance exceed the first page;" but occasional supplements of advertisements were promised. On Monday, the 20th of August, the words " and Courier " appeared in very small type under the chief head- ing, and a few weeks afterwards vanished altogether. At that time the paper had less than three columns of advertisements, all told. On the 17th of September, the Daily Telegraph lowered its price to one penny. In due time, the Standard (formerly an evening paper), having become amalgamated with the old Morning Herald, retained the former title, and was published at one penny. In the autumn of 1881, the aristocratic and fashionable Morning Post descended to the plebeian penny. The Pall Mall Gazette, and its young opponent, the St. Jame^s Gazette, reduced their charge from twopence to a penny at the opening of 1882. Of the 2,080, or thereabouts, newspapers now in existence in the United Kingdom, about 1,190 have been started subsequently to 1861, when the paper duty, the last shackle of the Press giant was struck off ; and about 1,160 of all the newspapers published belong to the ranks of the Penny Press, with a lively family (the Echo being eldest) of nearly forty little brothers at "only one half-penny each." G. R. E. 208 Castle at Porto Ferrajo, Napoleon's Residence at Elba. FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO THE STORY OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. "The desolator desolate ! — the victor overthrown ! The arbiter of others' fate a suppHant for his own ! " Napoleon I. becomes Ruler of Elba — Description of the Island — A great King and a small Empire — Activity and Pros- perity in the Island — The Emperor's Plans of Improvement — Want of Good Faith towards him — His Pension — Errors of the Bourbon Government in France — Demands of the Emigres — Priestcraft and Intolerance — The Emperor's Return to France — Flight of the Imperial Eagle to Paris and the Tuileries— The Government and the Army — Attachment of the Troops to Napoleon — Flight of the Bourbons — Plan of the Campaign of 1813 — The Duke of Wellington and Marshal Bliicher — Active Operations — The Historical Ball at Brussels — Battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras — Retreat and New Position South of Waterloo — The Great Battle — Incidents of the Day — A Defensive Posi- tion — The Issue of the Conflict — End of the Vanquished Conqueror's Career. Napoleon L becomes Ruler of Elba. p^^OWEVER various may be the opin- EWk j ions expressed by historians and .hrJ biographers on the character and actions of the great founder of the imperial house of the Bonapartes, — whether we find that unscrupulous leader of many legions covered with fulsome laudation, and represented as a little lower than the angels, as in the Lives written by Hazlett and Abbott — or represented in the light of a " Scamp Jupiter," a successful trickster, destitute of human feeling and of honest principle as he was full of genius and mental resource, as he is represented in the " Representa- tive Men " of Emerson, and in Sir Walter Scott's somewhat long-winded book, — on one point at least his puffers and detractors are fully agreed, namely, as to the consum- mate ability, energy, and courage with which he fought out the struggle to the bitter end in 1 8 14. Surrounded on every side by over- whelming numbers of elated foes, his own troops harassed by fatigue, and rapidly melting away in the series of desperate battles crowded together in the space of a few weeks ; compelled to make one small army do the work of four or five ; and with the net closing round him, in spite of the furious bounds of the hunted lion, the achievements of the short campaign of 1814 excited the highest admiration for the mili- tary quahties of Napoleon, even among those who hated him most ; and even to the last suggested the advisableness of making a compromise with the man who proved him- 209 P EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. self capable, under the most unfavourable conditions, of inflicting so much damage upon all who ventured to take the field against him. Thus at the Congress, opened at Chatillon earl> in the year, an opportunity was offered to the "vanquished victor" to end the contest by an arrangement that would have still left him at the head of the French nation, though with greatly curtailed power and territories. But " double or quits — all or nothing," was the game at which Napoleon loved to play ; and a slight gleam of success was sufficient to rekindle in him all the arrogance of ambition. He had fought five battles in as many days, and had been victorious in each — at Champaubert, Mont- mirail. Chateau Thierry, and Vauchamps ; and his sanguine temper and untiring ac- tivity prevented him from seeing that no amount of temporary success could do more than retard by a few weeks his ultimate fall in the face of the tremendous forces arrayed against him. He let the last chance of accommodation with his enemies pass away, by his evident chicanery to gain time at Chatillon; and thus the allies were compelled to take the resolution they successfully carried out, namely, that of marching on Paris, and compelling the capital to surrender before the Emperor, with his exhausted and worn- out army, which was daily being lessened by desertion, could arrive to its rescue ; and on the 31st of March, Paris capitulated. Napoleon had penetrated the design of his enemies ; and after beating back more than one of their armies towards the frontier, had suddenly turned from the pursuit, and hastened with forced marches towards Paris. But it was too late. Before he reached Fontainebleau, the sound of distant can- nonading warned him of what was going on ' around the capital ; and at Fontainebleau itself the fatal news reached him that Marmont and Mortier had given up the contest, and then he knew that the game of ambition was over. For a few days he lingered with the wreck of his army at Fontainebleau, undecided what course to take, and drinking the cup of humiliation to the very dregs. For the imperious Master of Europe had made but few friends, even in the days of his success. His best and truest counsellor had been lost to him on that fatal day, when Duroc, mortally wounded, clasped his hand, and uttered those emphatic words of warning which for a time shook even the conqueror's iron soul, and robbed him for a few hours of his self-possession. To his marshals he had been liberal of titles and rewards ; but they were conscious of being only tools in his hands ; and in the mind of nearly every one of them rankled the remembrance of harsh or imjust words and scornful treatment, from the man in whom gigantic intellect was found joined to utter coldness of heart, whose aspirations were " pent within the circle of a sword-sweep," and who was beloved only by those too far removed from him by their humble position to know anything of his personal character. Even those whom he had accounted his friends, and had distinguished by marks of especial favour, — Oudinot, Berthier, Ney, — deserted him when their interest and his fortunes diverged. There are few pages in history more pathetically illustrative of the depth to which human greatness can fall, than are furnished by the events of those few days at Fontainebleau, when the fate of the fallen Emperor was to be decided by the kings on whose necks he had had his foot only a few short years before. The Abdiel of the Empire, "among the faithless faithful only found," was brave, true-hearted Marshal Macdonald, whose Scottish descent was nobly apparent in the honour with which he clung to the chief whom fortune had so completely deserted. The cold heart of Napoleon, wrung with an anguish that even made him attempt self- destruction, was touched at Macdonald's fidelity ; and in a few pathetic words he acknowledged that he had given this true and gallant gentlemen too much reason for dissatisfaction, and expressed his sense of the noble revenge the Marshal was taking. For it was Macdonald who acted as the intermediary between the fallen Emperor at Fontainebleau and his triumphant foes in the capital ; and it was greatly owing to his exertions that a shadow of sovereignty was still left to the fallen ruler of miUions. It was arranged that Napoleon — who had at first vainly endeavoured to preserve his dynasty, by offering to abdicate in favour of his little son, the King of Rome, and had afterwards signed an unconditional abdica- tion of the French throne — should receive, for himself and his descendants, the sovereignty of the little island of Elba, the Ilva of the ancients, situated a few miles from the coast of Tuscany ; and he was to retain the title of emperor. Elba had come into the possession of France in 1802. It certainly seems a strange oversight that the discrowned Caesar should have been per- mitted to take up his residence at a point within an easy distance of the French coast ; and can only be explained on the assump- tion that his power was considered to be over and gone — completely a thing of the past. As regards its physical features and capabilities, Elba is, in many respects, a favoured spot. The high mountains, of which it is chiefly composed, contain an abundance of mineral wealth; copper, iron, lead, and even gold and silver, being FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. reckoned among its products, besides quar- ries of slate, marble, and granite. The tunny fishery is the chief source of support to the inhabitants next to the iron mines, for which Elba was famous even in ancient times. In some parts the land is well adapted for agriculture ; and a great variety of wild flowering plants, here as elsewhere in beauteous Italy, " own the kindred soil, nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil." Altogether, it was far from an undesirable domain of which Napoleon took possession on the 4th of May, 1814, having arrived there, on a British ship, on the 3rd, — the day on which the restored Bourbon king, Louis XVIII., made his entry into Paris. A Great King and a Small Empire. During his journey southward through France, before embarking on the British ship of war that was to convey him to his ■new home, the Emperor had practical experience of the mutability of popular favour. As Coriolanus was '"'by the voice of slaves whooped out of Rome," so was Napoleon followed by the execrations of the populacejwho had worshipped him in the day of his success ; he had at last been com- pelled, for safety, to travel in disguise. In Porto Ferrajo, the capital of Elba, he was received, on the contrar}', with every sign of welcome and rejoicing ; the inhabitants shrewdly considering that the residence of so distinguished a man among them as their ruler, could not fail to draw many visitors to the island, and to bring increased prosperity. In this conjecture they were perfectly right. "Never," says Bussey, "was Elba so busy or so prosperous as during the abode, among its sea-beaten rocks, of ' the Emperor ' ; never did its ships traverse seas infested with Moorish pirates with so much impunity, as v.'hile they were protected by the golden bees of Napoleon." The Emperor himself seemed pleased with his reception, and soon manifested much of his old energy and activity. Within a few days he had made a tour of inspection through the whole island, examining, ques- tioning, and planning, as was his wont. " It must be confessed that my empire is very small," he observed with a smile, when he found how soon his territory was traversed ; and, indeed, his new subjects were only about twelve thousand in all. It was not in his nature to be without projects, or without finding work to do. He immediately set about improving his little principality. New roads were laid out, new fortifications begun, new buildings for salt works and for the tunny fishing were commenced, as well as a handsome house for the Emperor's sister, the beautiful Pauline, Princess Borghese, who was soon to join him, with his mother. the venerable Madame Letitia. It seemed as though he had thoroughly adapted him- self to his altered fortunes, and was content to end his career as the ruler of this little sea-girt empire. Soon afterwards. General Cambronne arrived, with about four hundred soldiers of the old Guard, who had volunteered to serve the " Little Corporal " under these changed circumstances. Colonel Sir Neil Campbell also came, as British Commissioner; which shows that the British Government, at least, did not feel quite secure as to Napoleon's intentions, and accordingly considered it advisable to have a confidential agent on the spot, to keep a vigilant eye upon his pro- ceedings. In his " Life of Napoleon," Sir Walter Scott speaks of Elba, during the Na- poleon year, as resembling a huge barrack, "filled with military, gens-d'armes, refugees of all descriptions, expectants, dependents, domestics, and adventurers." In truth, a somewhat dangerous and explosive compound of elements, and one that might easily, if incautiously handled, burst into a flame. Among the visitors admitted to an inter- view by the Emperor was Lord John Russell, destined afterwards to do many notable things as a British statesman. To him Napoleon expressed some amount of doubt as to what the Duke of Wellington would do, now that the contest was over ; and could hardly be made to believe that the illustrious warrior, his task as a military leader being finished, would simply take his place as a British peer in the civil councils of his country. The Emperor could hardly conceive the idea of a distinguished career or exalted usefulness apart from the " pomp and circumstance of glorious war." It was obviously the interest, no less than the duty, of the restored government of France to be scrupulous in fulfilling the conditions of its treaty with the exiled Em- peror, that he, on his part, might have no pretext for breaking his share of the compact, or endeavouring to disturb the new state of things. But the fatality that attended all the proceedings of the first ministers of Louis XVIII. seems to have betrayed them here into a fatal blunder, the consequences of which were disastrous in the extreme. On his abdicating the throne, the allies had covenanted to pay Napoleon a yearly pen- sion of six millions of francs ; and this sum was to form an item in the " grand livre," or national budget of France, and was to be paid in advance to the ruler of Elba. With a parsimony equally unjust and shortsighted, the French Government withheld this pen- sion ; and when Lord Castlereagh — who,, though by no means a very sagacious min- ister, yet had sufficient sense toj see the danger of the proceeding — addressed the EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Government of Louis XVIII. on the subject, he was told in reply that the conduct of Napoleon, in recruiting soldiers in Corsica for his guard, had been equivocal, but that some means would be taken to afford him " some help," — a subterfuge unworthy of the administration of a great country. Meanwhile Napoleon was in real and serious pecuniary embarrassment. The revenues of his island empire being incon- siderable, he depended chiefly upon the pension so unrighteously withheld ; and had the mortification of finding himself obliged to stop the improvements and works he had taken in hand, and to quarter his guards upon the inhabitants, who were unable to pay taxes. His earnest remonstrances to the French Government were entirely unheeded ; and to one who has for years had at his dis- posal the resources of a great kingdom, this embarrassment was as novel as it was galling. Thus, not unnaturally, the suspicion arose in his mind that the sovereignty of Elba had not been given to him in good faith, but merely as a temporary measure, until the allies should consider it safe to dispose of him in another quarter. And as to his ultimate destination a dark foreboding had taken possession of him. The island of St. Helena, in the South Atlantic, long held by the East India Company chiefly for the supply of fresh water it afforded to their ships, was purchased by the British Govern- ment ; and Napoleon was haunted by the apprehension that to this far-off island of St. Helena he was in due time to be trans- ferred. And so in the capital, Porto Ferrajo, whose name he had changed to Cosmopoli, Napoleon sat meditating on these things, and maturing a resolution that was soon to startle all Europe. The Bourbon Government and its Errors. When Talleyrand, the most versatile, clear- headed, and unscrupulous of political intrigu- ers, declared that the Bourbons " had learned nothing and forgotten nothing " in exile, he might with equal justice have ex- tended his bitter epigram to the adherents and followers of that self-deluded race. With the Restoration there came thronging back to France an infinite number of emigres — people whose royalism was far more intense than that of the King their master, and who were utterly unable to appreciate the change that a most eventful quarter of a century could not fail to make in the sentiments and ideas of an active and quickwitted nation. All that these people could understand was the bare fact that the good cause had triumphed, that the usurper had been cast down from his high estate, and that the King was to enjoy his own again ; and to their minds the reinstatement of the King involved as a necessary consequence that they themselves were to be restored to the positions they had held before the Revolution had sent them flying for dear life, to the protection of foreign lands. King Louis XVIII., a fat, good-natured gentleman enough, would have been content to take the goods the gods had provided him, and to content all parties, so far as it was practicable. Like Charles II., he had not the slightest wish to " go on his travels again ; " and like a later chief magis- trate of France, "y'jK suis^ et fy reste" was j the motto he felt inclined to adopt ; and he had been content to acknowledge the altered spirit of the time by the concession of im- portant privileges to the French people, — such as the " Charte," which guaranteed to them a certain amount of constitutional freedom ; the abolition of the consolidated taxes, which were looked on as a great national grievance ; and that most important element in a popular government, the freedom of the press. The words of the King him- self, repeated from mouth to mouth with great satisfaction, in which Louis XVIII. declared that there was nothing changed by his return, that there was only one French- man more in France, were taken as a royal promise that existing rights should be preserved. But the King did not keep his word ; pro- bably the influences around him were too strong to allow him. The returned emigres looked upon France as their exclusive pro- perty, whicii they now demanded to have restored to them, in the condition in which they had left it more than twenty years before. In the good old times of marquises and feudal lords of the manor, none but men of noble birth could be officers in the army. Consequently the returned exiles claimed to be put in the places of the veterans of Austerlitz, Wagram and Smolensk, who were dismissed accordingly, or compelled to retire on utterly insufficient pensions to make room for commanders who had never seen a shot fired in anger. Bdranger the poet made terrible fun of these untried warriors, and contributed not a little to spread abroad the disgust excited by their usurpation. In the public offices, too, officials, against whom nothing could be urged except that they had received their appointments under the Re- public or the Empire, were turned away, to make room for the " supporters " of the restored dynasty. A censorship of the press was established, as rigid as ever that of Napoleon had been ; estates purchased in open market under the Republic and Empire were handed back to the former possessors, who, by the law passed under a government of acknowledged legality, had been declared to have forfeited them years before ; and the FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. sense of the people was continually outraged by the denunciation of every political act done since the overthrow of the monarchy as wicked and heinous. The power of the priests was also restored, under the patron- age of the King's brother, the Comte d'Artois, afterwards Charles X., who in his bigotry and his inability to temper zeal with discretion, as well as in his ultimate fate, furnishes a parallel to the English James II. ; like whom, indeed, he was fated, after a few years of misrule, to end his life in exile. The Jesuits, the most obnoxious of all the ecclesiastical orders, come flocking back to France ; and discontent that should ripen into a harvest of hate. The extent to which the illiberal spirit of the Government was carried, appeared in the case of Mademoiselle de Raucourt, an actress of the Theatre Francais, which excited intense indignation in Paris, and almost provoked a riot. At the age of sixty Mademoiselle de Raucourt died ; and the obsolete law, which pronounced those of her profession excommunicate, and there- fore denied them the rites of the Church in burial, was actually revived in her case. The scandal was the greater as the woman's Meeting of the Emi'eror and Marshal Ney. for a time their influence was paramount in every department ; and the Legion of Honour, the coveted prize that had inspired many a deed of daring and self-devoted courage during the period that had just closed so mournfully, was systematically degraded by being scattered broadcast among the lowest and most despicable of the spies and intriguers who did the dirty work of the Government. It seemed as though the partisans of Louis were bent on showing the old feeling of con- tempt for the " canaille," in its most offensive form, upon every occasion. Never did men work more industriously to sow among the nation they came to govern the seeds of a reputation was without a stain. When the corpse was refused admission into the church of St. Brigue, the people were roused to fury. An immediate application to the King to order the interment was met by a refusal, on the ground that His Majesty could not interfere in a matter that con- cerned the ecclesiastical authorities alone. But the populace persisted, and the fellow actors and actresses of Mademoiselle Rau- court declared, in a second application to the King, that unkss the rites of the Church were accorded to their dead sister, they would go over in a body to the Protestant faith ; whereupon His Majesty gave way. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. What would have been said in England if Christian burial had been denied to Mrs. Siddons on the score of her profession ? The Emperor's Return from Elba to France. It had been arranged by the Treaty of Paris, that two months after the signing of that document a Congress should meet in Vienna, to discuss various matters of para- mount importance to the Governments of | Europe, and especially to readjust the frontiers of the various nations ; on the general principle of rewarding, with an increase of territory and other advantages, those Powers who had been prominent in the struggle against Napoleon, and punish- ing by curtailment and restrictions those unfortunate rulers, who, like the King of Saxony, had thrown in their lot with the fallen Emperor. Various circumstances delayed the meeting, and the Congress did not assemble until the ist of November. It was a most brilliant gathering. All the Powers of Europe were represented by their most distinguished public men. The astute Metternich was present on behalf of Austria. The interests of Russia were placed in the experienced hands of Nerselrode, with Rasu- mowsky. Capo d'l stria, and Stockelberg as his coadjutors ; Lord Castlereagh, and Wel- lington, lately raised to the rank of a duke, with a grant of ^400,000 to maintain the dignity of his exalted position, watched over the interests of the British Empire ; while Talleyrand and Dalberg were the deputies of the restored Government of France ; Prince Hardenberg, and Wilhelm von Humboldt, the brother of the great traveller and scien- tific author, were present for Prussia ; while Freiherr von Stein, who had done so much for the regeneration of Germany, and was especially known as the trusted friend and adviser of the Emperor Alexander, was there to give to the deliberations of the council the weight of his sagacity and experience, though not as the officially accredited representative of any separate State. The whole affair was a strange incongruous mixture of diplomacy and fiddling, of grave diplomatic conferences and balls and masquerades ; feasting and statesmanship, intrigue and "bon-ton" fri- volity. Vienna was crowded with wealthy strangers, princes and their retinues, Hunga- rian and Bohemian magnates blazing with gold and jewels. Factions and cliques were soon formed among this motley assembly; and it was not long before serious differences threatened to arise. Indeed, the great Powers who had united to put down the power of the French Emperor were ready to go to war with each other for the division of the spoil ; when suddenly, at the beginning of March 181 5, the intelligence came like a thunderclap upon' them that Napoleon had broken loose from Elba, and had landed in France. Rough old! Bliicher burst into the room of the English envoy, with the blunt inquiry, whether the British Government had or had not a squadron on the Mediterranean coast of France ? It seemed incredible that such an enterprise could have been carried into effect unchecked. The Flight of the Imperial Eagle TO Paris. The startling news was true. Napoleon^ dissatisfied and alarmed at his situation in Elba, had at the same time been kept accu- rately informed by friends, among whom were Fouch^, his former Minister of Police,. Davoust, Maret, Carnot, and othei's, of the course of events in France ; and as the popular discontent increased, hints were given that a remedy would presently be found for the evils complained of Among the army especially, which was deeply offended at finding itself, after years of favour and supremacy under Napoleon, slighted and undervalued by the Bourbon Government, this expectation was raised and kept alive. The violet was chosen as a sort of mysterious emblem, and worn by tl^e secret partisans of the exiled Caesar ; among whom it was whis- pered that when the spring brought back the violets, Pere Violette also would come again ; and the Father Violet in question- was Napoleon. Among the little army he had gathered i-ound him in Porto Ferrajo, or as he called it, Cosmopoli, Napoleon had suffered some idea of his intended enterprise to get abroad, so that more enthusiasm than astonishment was aroused when, on the 26th of February,, the announcement was made to the seven or eight hundred men of whom the force con- sisted, that their chief was about to embark for France. The men, among whom were four hundred of the Old Guard, were de- lighted at the prospect of seeing their country again, and raised the old shout of " Vive r Eiiipcreur ! " with unanimous hearti- ness. The embarkation at once began ;: on the evening of the same day the expe- dition sailed from the island m six vessels, of which the brig Inco7istant, that carried Cresar and his fortunes, was the chief. The armament arrived safely at Cannes, near Frejus, and Napoleon at once began that famous march towards Paris, which has been somewhat magniloquently, but not inaptly, described in one of his own procla- mations by the expression that " the Imperial eagle should fiy from steeple to steeple- through France, until he alighted on the towers of Notre Uame." During the passage to France, several of those proclamations :i4 FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. had been prepared by which Napoleon knew so well how to work upon the passions of the more vainglorious of the French nation. Soberminded men talked of the stilted lan- guage and exaggerated fustian of his an- nouncements to the army ; but he well knew the people he was addressing. He now declared that in his retreat he had heard the voice of the French nation calling him back ; he reminded the French of the vic- tories he had been gaining in the short campaign of 1814, and attributed the blame of the capitulation of Paris to Marmont and Augereau ; had he been better seconded, he would have driven the allies out of France. These proclamations were distributed as he moved on with his followers with great speed towards Grenoble. Everywhere his advent was hailed with enthusiasm by the people, whom he roused against the restored dynasty by reminding them of the bitter fact that the Bourbons had been reseated on the throne of France by the power of foreign bayonets. "When Charles VII. re-entered Paris," so ran the text of one of these pro- clamations, " and overthrew the ephemeral throne of Henry V., he won his sceptre by the valour of his followers, and did not hold it by the permission of a Prince Regent." A paragraph in one of his proclamations to the army of France reads like a paraphrase, or rather a parody, of Shakespeare's speech of Henry V. to his troops before the battle of Agincourt : " Soldiers, come and range yourselves under the banners of your chief. His existence is identified with yours ; his rights are yours, and those of the people ; his interest, his honour, his glory, are your interest, honour, and glory." Then came the sentence about the eagle and Notre Dame. " Then you will be able to show your scars with honour," the proclamation continued ; " then you may boast of what you have done. You will be the liberators of the country. In your old age, surrounded and honoured by your fellow-citizens, they will listen with respect while you recount your high deeds ; while you exclaim with pride, ' And I also was one of that grand army which twice entered within the walls of Vienna, of Rome, of Berlin, of Madrid, of Lisbon, of jNIoscow, and which delivered Paris from the stain imprinted upon it by treason and the presence of the enemy. Honour to those brave soldiers, the glory of their country ! and eternal infamy to the French criminals, in whatever rank they were born, who for twenty-five years fought beside foreigners, tearing the bosom of their country I " The allusion to the " foreigners " and their partisans was a subtle appeal to the national pride. It was brilliantly suc- cessful, and it seemed likely that the Im- perial eagle's return to its former nest at the Tuileries would be hailed with acclamation. Whether it would be suffered to establish itself there once more was another and a very doubtful question. The Government and the Army. The news of the landing of Napoleon was received by the Government in Paris at first with blank bewilderment, and then with scornful incredulity. It was represented to the King that this last attempt of the usurper would be as short-lived as it was desperate. In the official journal, Bonaparte was repre- sented as wandering among the mountains, deserted by his few followers, and certain to be speedily arrested. The marshals who had abandoned his cause the year before to worship the rising sun of the Bourbons were particularly emphatic in their demonstrations of loyalty to their new master. Marshal Soult, the wily " Monsieur Renard" of the sol- diery, issued a fiery proclamation, in which he contrasted the well-grounded claims of the legitimate monarch with the frantic lunacy of an adventurer who desired to plunge France into civil war. Massena wrote from the south, setting forth the cer- tainty of Bonaparte's speedy capture ; and Ney, before joining a large force with which he was to march southward, promised Louis XVIII. that he would bring back the dis- turber of Europe as a prisoner in an iron cage. But the heart of the French army turned, not unnaturally, towards the chief whose name was associated with twenty years of unexampled conquest and glory. Soon after his landing. Napoleon was encountered at Vizille by a line regiment despatched against him. Trusting in the power his presence always exercised over French soldiers, Napoleon advanced alone to meet his opponents, who at sight of him became instantly converted into friends and parti- sans. They raised the old shout of " Vive V EmpcreiirP and went over to him in a body. At Grenoble, the people forced open the gates, and declared for Napoleon. Colonel Labedoyere and the 4th line regiment did the same thmg; and it appeared that the soldiers had tricoloured cockades concealed in their shakos and in the regimental diums, ready to be displayed when the time came. A great force, sent out under the Comte d'Artois, Louis Philippe, Duke of Orleans, and Marshal Macdonald, likewise went over in a body to Napoleon. Ney, at Lons-le- Saulnier, also deserted his new master's cause, to join the man with whom all his own glory was identified. It is supposed that the brave, weak man was sincere when he made the promise to Louis XVIII. about the iron cage ; but that the sight of his old master was simply too much for him, and he 215 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. at once resumed the old habit of obedience to the guiding spirit, whose behests he had been accustomed to obey. Thereupon the Bourbon Government fled, the King getting across the frontier with all speed, and betaking himself to Ghent, from which safe retreat he watched the progress of events. He was at best a negative, apathetic man, the representative of a system that had become effete and superannuated. The Congress of Vienna, however, had been roused into activity by the gravity of the crisis. All questions of dispute were put aside for the time, in the presence of the great and pressing danger. The Duke of Wellington emphatically reminded Talley- rand that he considered himself the soldier of the King. It was at once determined that the Powers must stand together, to maintain the restored Government in France. It was resolved that Napoleon Bonaparte, by appearing again in France in arms, had put himself beyond the pale of society, and drawn upon himself the public vengeance {vindique publique). The four great Powers, England, Austria, Russia, and Prussia, entered into a fresh compact against Napoleon, each Government binding itself to put 150,000 soldiers into the field, or to furnish an equivalent in money for each man short of the minimum number ; and the other states of Europe were invited to join the coalition ; an appeal to which they responded,— with the exception of Sweden, where Bernadotta was discontented at not having received the French crown, and Portugal, which, exhausted by the long Peninsular struggle, required repose. There- upon the Congress broke up ; for the question of redistribution of power and rectification of frontier was necessarily post- poned in the presence of the more pressing danger. Meanwhile Napoleon had reached Paris, and on the 4th of April was once more at the head of the Government. Con- scious of the desperate nature of the game he was playing, he endeavoured to conciliate goodwill by a profession of moderation ; acknowledging the errors into which, in his former rule, he had been betrayed, and pro- mising that the French should enjoy consti- tutional freedom under his renewed sway. He also made overtures for peace to the various Governments ; but his letters were either returned or left unanswered ; and he soon understood, that as to the army he owed his return to France, to the army also he must look for the establishment of his authority. And he made active preparations for the struggle he saw to be inevitable. The Plan of the Campaign of 1815. Napoleon was soon convinced that his promises of moderation, of reigning as a * constitutional monarch, and of abstaining from war, would have no effect upon the allies, who were determined to look upon him as an enemy, with whom no compact could be made. Accordingly he nerved himself for a task whose difficulties he well comprehended ; for he would shortly have Europe in arms for his opponent. The crisis seemed to have given him back all his former activity. He toiled in- cessantly to bring the army, which, under the Bourbon system, had been diminished until it numbered only 90,000 available men, into an effective state, and to increase its numbers by offering inducements to volunteers and veterans to join the standards : to have resorted to the conscription would have deprived his cause of all its popularity. On the 1st of June the Parisians were treated to an imposing spectacle, when, in the assembly of the Champ de Mai, the lately returned ruler, in the midst of an immense crowd, took the oath of adherence to the Constitution, declaring that his aspirations, his glory, and his happiness had always been indissolubly bound up with the welfare of France. The ceremony ended with a dis- tribution of eagles to the various branches of the army, and a general march-past before the Emperor's throne, amid all the pomp of martial music and acclamation. The situation was exceedingly serious, as the Emperor well knew. Europe was arming to prevent his re-establishment on the throne of France ; and he calculated that the levies would amount to a milHon of men. By great exertions Napoleon had been enabled to raise the French army to about half that number ; but only 217,000 were armed, equipped, and in a condition for taking the field immediately. They were divided into seven great corps, and placed respectively under the command of Ney, Reille, Van- damme, Gerard, Rapp, Loban, and Suchet. The cavalry were placed under the command of Excelmans, Killerman, Grouchy, Pagot, and Michaud. Massena was appointed governor of the important fortress of Metz ; Davoust became Minister of War, and Mar- shal Soult, the astute Monsieur Renard, Major- General of the army. To attack his enemies in detail, and en- deavour to dispose of the armies of one nation before another should be ready to oppose him, was the plan the Emperor re- solved, after mature consideration, to adopt ; and, indeed, it is doubtful if he could have done better. England and Prussia, with large contingents of Dutch, Belgian, Hano- verian, and Brunswick troops were already in the field. If he could obtain a victory over these by attacking them separately, before Russia and Austria, with Bavaria and the rest of his enemies, were ready, the 16 FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. resolution of the allies not to treat with him would probably be shaken, especially as the Opposition in England would dislike the prospect of a protracted and expensive war, and he might secure a peace on favourable terms. Moreover he was aware that the recent union of Belgium with Holland was exceedingly unpopular with the former nation, the Belgians looking upon themselves as annexed to the Dutch in the manner of a dependent province ; and it was considered that they would much rather be joined to to the selection of the leader to be sent to cope with him. The Duke of Wellington, the hero of the long Peninsular struggle, was the one man to whom this vitally important duty was naturally to be entrusted. The Duke had from the first expressed himself ready to undertake any position in which he could be useful. Accordingly he accepted the command of the army ; and by the be- ginning of April 1815, he had established his headquarters at Brussels. His advice as to the plan of operations was to act in concert Napoleon on the Evening of Waterloo. France than to Holland. The Emperor might therefore hope to see them come over to his side at the first opportunity. Accordingly the French army was put in motion towards the Belgian frontier; and Napoleon, quitting Paris at daybreak on the 12th of June, proceeded to Avesnes to place himself at their head. The Duke of Wellington and Mar- shal Blucher. From the moment when it became known in England that Napoleon and his army must be encountered, there was no doubt as with Prussia and Austria, bringing such a force into the field as should make the con- test short, sharp, and decisive. " The war would linger on," he said, " and end to our disadvantage," if anything were attempted with a small force. His experience in the Peninsula had fully taught him that lesson. Consequently great exertions were made to provide the Duke with as numerous and efficient an army as could be brought together on so short a notice. The conjuncture was not favourable. Many of the splendid soldiers of the Peninsular 217 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. war, troops thoroughly seasoned and disci- pHned, with whom, to use the phrase of their illustrious chief, a commander " might go anywhere and do anything," had been dis- banded and dismissed to their homes with small gratuities or pensions. Another portion of the British forces had net yet returned from America, having been engaged there in the foolish andpreventible war in which the nation had been involved by the Ministry. Many of the regiments had been filled up at the last moment with raw recruits, or with volunteers from the militia. Indeed, such was the want of time, that many were despatched to the seat of war in the militia jackets they wore when they were drafted into the line. They were not exactly the kind of force the Duke would have chosen to command against the greatest captain of the age ; but " their hearts were in the trim," and the youngest stripling soldier upheld the honour of his country manfully during that short but event- ful campaign. Combined operations, for the purpose of striking a great blow, formed the plan of the Duke ; while Napoleon on the other hand, was determined to force on a contest at the earliest moment, and attacking each of the allies separately, to crush them one by one. The Duke was certainly fortunate in his officers. Picton, Ponsonby, Lord Uxbridge, better known afterwards as the Marquis of Anglesea, Lord Saltoun, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, with Clinton, Colville, Alten, Sir Alexander Gordon, and a number of other distinguished names brighten the roll of the campaign of 1815. Men and officers alike were full of zeal. The number of the army under the Duke of Wellington in Belgium amounted to 78,500 men. The British, Hanoverian, and Belgian troops formed about two-thirds of this force ; the rest were Germans, chiefly from Bruns- wick and Nassau. Among the infantry were the 42nd and 92nd Highlanders, and the 33rd Regiment, in which the Duke had begun his career in the army. The Horse Guards Blue and the Life Guards, with some regi- ments of heavy dragoons, and fourteen regiments of light dragoons, made up the cavalry force. Bliicher, the brave old field-marshal, " Marschall Vorwarts," or " Forward," as his soldiers called him, from his eagerness to ad^vance, was in command of the Prussian forces, numbering in all some 130,000 men; but of these only about 80,000 were available for iinmediate service. When the Duke received intelligence of Napoleon's march upon Flanders, he made preparations for effecting a junction with Bliicher so soon as it should become apparent in what direction Napoleon's attack would be made. Bliicher had the courage of a lion, and an amount of energy marvellous in a man of seventy. But he was a veteran whose first period of service dated from the times of the great Frederick and the Seven Years' War, and his method was obsolete. Napoleon looked upon him as merely a brave " sabreur," and Napo- leon's estimate of a military leader was generally correct. Napoleon's plan, which Lamartine desig- nates rightly as " the only one suited to the exigencies of the time, the natural genius of the Emperor and his troops, and, finally, to the genius of impetuosity and despair," was to concentrate his army on the Sambre, to advance to Charleroi as speedily as possible, andfall upon the Prussians at the point of junc- tion of their army with that of the EngHsh ; then, having driven them back upon Luxem- burg, to attack the English in turn, and hurl them back towards the coast. This would leave him the command of Belgium ; and he would then be free to turn his forces against the two fresh armies that Avere advancing" against him on the Upper and Lower Rhine,, and who were tc be vanquished like the rest. It was a desperate scheme, which could only have succeeded by a marvellous union of genius and good fortune. Active Operations ; Historical Ball. Among the English quartered in and around Brussels, there was in general but a vague idea of the nature of the work in which they were engaged, and of its tremend- ous possibilities. The prevailing impression at first was, that Bonaparte was to be crushed without a struggle ; and the old delusion concerning a military promenade to Paris was revived. The Belgian capital had never been so bright and joyous, so full of gay- company, as during the month of May and the first half of June 181 5. There were fetes and entertainments of all kinds in abundance ; there was a sound of revelry by night throughout the Belgian capital, long before that memorable ball given by the Duchess of Richmond, which subsequent events have made matter of history. The more experienced among the officers, how- ever, especially those who had seen service in Spain, were of the opinion which Thack- eray, in Vanity Fair, puts into the mouth of the plucky Irish colonel, that some of the dancers would soon be dancing to a tune they little expected. During all this time, however, the Duke himself, while preserving; • his usual imperturbable aspect, and even taking part in the gaieties that were going on, was vigilantly watching the course of events, and preparing for the encounter. When the Emperor joined his army, he at once proceeded to stimulate the zeal of his troops, and to awaken their thirst for glory^ by those speeches that seem so bombastic 218 FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. and inflated when read in cold blood, but which had frequently such a wonderful effect when spoken in the presence of an excited and eager soldiery. On the 14th of June, the anniversary of the great victories of Marengo and Friedland, he delivered one of these speeches, reminding his hearers that " these Prussians, now so insolent," had been beaten at Jena, JN'Iontmirail, and elsewhere by French armies much inferior to them in number. He roused the hatred of his hearers against the English by allusions to the EngHsh "prison-ships," in which a number of their countrymen had perished ; represented the Belgians, Hanoverians, and other nations as unwilling allies of his enemies, who would be glad to quit the alliance to which they were only bound by fear of the vengeance of the great Powers, whose princes were the foes of justice and of the rights of nations. " Soldiers ! we have forced marches to make," said the Emperor, in concluding his address, " we have clangers to encounter ; but let us be constant, and the victory will be ours. The rights, the honour, and the happiness of our country will be reconquered. For every one who has a heart, the moment has now come for victory or death." It was on the 15th of June that Napoleon at daybreak marched from Beaumont to- wards the Sambre, the passage of which river was speedily effected. He then at- tacked and took the fortress of Charleroi, which was occupied by the Prussian General Ziethen. He divided his army into two parts ; himself advancing with the main body towards Fleurus against the Prussians, while Marshal Ney was ordered, with a body of 40,000 men, to move. on towards Fleurus, and so to Ouatre Bras. The name Ouatre Bras applies to the four roads leading respectively to Charleroi, Namur, Nivelles, and Brussels, that hereintersect each other. The object of Ney's movement was to operate against the English, and prevent their junction with the Prussians, whom Napoleon meant to attack without delay. The Duke, in his head-quarters at Brussels, had received early intelligence that the French army was now in motion, and of the general disposal of the two bodies. He at once gave orders that everything should be in readiness for marching out of Brussels at a moment's notice ; but, like Nelson at Copenhagen, he evidently thought it would not do to be in a hurry ; and accordingly everything was done with a quietness and deliberation which in some quarters has been misrepresented as evidence of ignorance or indifference. The Duke knew perfectly what he was about, and understood the necessity of avoiding any- thing that would cause a panic in the capital. Therefore everything seemed outwardly to go on as usual ; and when the Duchess of Richmond, who had invited a large and brilliant company, including many officers of the English army, to a great ball for the evening of the 15th, inquired whether the entertainment should not be put off, the Duke requested that it should proceed, as though nothing unusual had happened. This is the ball described by Byron in the immortal verses in which the poet portrays the cannon's opening roar as mingling with the sounds of revelry. Something must be allowed in the way of latitude to a poet describing a tragic scene. There was no sound of cannon to interrupt the festivities at the Duchess's brilliant party ; but certain it is that, while the dance was proceeding in the festive halls, the bugles were blowing in the streets and squares of Brussels ; and by the Duke's command the men were being: rapidly and quietly mustered^ and marched out of the city, in perfect order, on their way to that field whence so many of them were never to return. The necessary orders had all been given, and the general officers had been instructed to attend the ball, and to take an opportunity of retiring separately and quietly, to join their various corps, that anything like alarm or confusion might be avoided. It is related that the brother of the Duchess, the Duke of Gordon, in command of the 92nd (the Gordon) High- landers, had, at his sister's request, ordered various non-commissioned officers and pri- vates of the regiment to be in attendance, as the Duchess wished them to show her foreign guests hovN? the national Scotch dances were performed by men to the manner born. Before twenty-four hours were over, the dance of life was over for many of the gal- lant fellows who had good-humouredly con- tributed to the amusement of the Duchess's guests. The Duke himself stayed to occupy the place of honour at the supper-table, and to return thanks, when General Alava proposed his health, and that of the army he com- manded. Then, with a quiet bow and smile to the assembled guests, he quitted the ball- room, to devote himself to the tremendous task before him ; and within ther next three days the fate of France and of Europe for many a year was decided. With all the care that had been taken to avoid undue excitement, it was a sad break- ing up, tliat of the briniantytV6' of her Grace of Richmond at one in the morning of the 1 6th of June. Byron's description of the hurrying to and fro, of the distress and tears^ of the " cheeks all pale that but an hour ago blushed at the praise of their own loveli- ness," is true enough, if his inti-oduction of the cannon, and of the effect of the sound on "Brunswick's fated chieftain," is imagina- 219 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tive. Very many parted there to meet no more in this world ; so sudden had been the summons, that many of the officers marched to join their regiments in festive attire of silk stockings and pumps. As a writer on these events has observed, it was a rough transi- tion from the delights of the ball-room to the stern realities of the battle-field, but illustrative of the vicissitudes that form part of the life of the soldier, whose philosophy must be always that of Wolfe's favourite song,— ' ' Why soldiers, then, Should we be melancholy, then, Whose trade it is to die ? " The manner in which the march from Brussels was effected was admirable in its evidence of cool self-possession and perfect management. It was not till long after the Waterloo year that the absurd story that the Duke had been "surprised" on that occasion began to gain currency ; and it was copied into at least one history whose author ought to have known better. The Duke simply waited, in perfect readiness to move, until he could feel sure in what direc- tion the attack of the enemy would be made ; and then he led forth his army to repel that attack in the most efficient way. LiGNY AND OUATRE BRAS. To the strains of martial music the various regiments marched from the Place Royale of Brussels, not without much lamentation and many tears from the populace, especially the fairer portion, as well as from their own friends and compatriots; for the British army, notably the Highlanders, had become ex- ceedingly popular during a few weeks' stay in Brussels. Eight infantry regiments, form- ing the fifth division, under the heroic Picton, and divided into two brigades, under Sir James Kempe and Sir Denis Pack, with the Duke of Brunswick's corps and some Nassau troops, moved upon Ouatre Bras. They numbered 15,000 men in all, and had neither infantry nor cavalry to support them. On the other side Marshal Ney was marching towards Quatre Bras with all speed. Napoleon, whose game depended on promptitude, had pressed forward with such speed as considerably to harass his troops. He came in sight of the Prussians about noon on the i6th, and found their army about 80,000 strong, including 9,000 cavalry, and with 250 guns, occupying the heights of Bry, from Sombreff to St. Amand, with the rivulet and village of Ligny in front of them. The Duke of Wellington, having ridden across the country to Bry, had an interview with the old Field-Marshal ; and having by personal observation convinced himself that the threatened attack of Napoleon on the Prussians would be a real one, and concerted measures for co-operation with his ally, he rode off towards Quatre Bras, where Picton's division had by this time arrived. At about three in the afternoon. Napoleon began the battle against the Prussians by a tremendous cannonade, under cover of which his infantry and cavalry advanced to the attack with great gallantry and determina- tion. The Prussians replied with equal bravery. Every house and barn in Ligny and the neighbouring hamlets became a fortress ; for six hours a deadly strife was waged ; and so great was the exasperation on both sides, that no quarter was given. The French were burning to avenge the insults of the invasion of their territory in 1 8 14, and the defeat of Leipsic, in the previous year ; while the Prussians still remembered with unappeased hatred the terrible disaster of Jena, the subsequent occupation of their capital, and the purloined sword of Frederick the Great. After waver- ing for a long time, victory at last favoured the French. The intrepid Bliicher, whose seventy-three years had not robbed him of his energy, encouraged his men throughout the day with untiring zeal. But his horse was killed under him, and entangled him in its fall ; a charge of the enemy's cavalry swept past the old leader as he lay bruised and helpless on the ground, and passed him again presently in full career. It was only owing to the drizzling rain that had begun to fall, and the descending shades of evening, that he escaped being recognised and made prisoner by the enemy. His aide-de-camp. Von Nostitz, remained by him until some of his own soldiers, missing their leader, made a desperate charge and carried him off ; but when he had been borne from the field, the battle was lost ; and the advancing French drove the Prussians back in the direction of Wavre and Gembloux. Thus the first object of Napoleon had been, as he supposed, completely gained. The Prussians were in retreat, and the next thing was to prevent their rallying and forming a junction with the English. For this purpose. Marshal Grouchy was ordered by the Emperor to pursue the Prussians to a sufficient distance to render their reappear- ance on the field of battle impossible, and then to return with his 35,000 men and assist in the operations against Wellington. This task Grouchy failed to fulfil ; and to his shortcomings, which were suspected to be the result of deliberate treachery, Napoleon afterwards persisted in attributing, in a great measure, the tremendous disaster that brought ruin upon the French army two days later. Grouchy, on his part, published a defence, in which he retorts the blame upon the Emperor. Whether he did his best, and merely blundered, or treacherously FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. betrayed the cause he had taken up, will always remain a doubtful point. Certain it is, that several of the French generals had become conscious of the desperate nature of Napoleon's enterprise ; and that one at least, General Bourmont, with two colonels, went over to Bliicher just before the battle of Ligny began, mounting the white cockade in lieu of the tricolour. The brave old Field- Marshal was far more disgusted at the treachery than pleased at the acquisition of these notable allies. " It's all the same what symbol the fellows set up," he grumbled, " rascals are rascals always." While Napoleon was gaining the victory, who wore the death's head and cross-bones on their caps, as a token at once of mourn- ing and of vengeance for their Duke, mortally wounded at Jena, — charged gallantly, and repeatedly made a diversion in favour of their allies, it was a most anxious time. Many of the soldiers in Picton's division were young recruits, whose very impetuosity might bring disaster. But they behaved nobly, and showed themselves thoroughly amenable to command. At their great chiefs orders they formed squares, standing four deep, the leading files kneeling to receive the enemy's charge, and with the musket resting against the knee forming a double chevaiix-de- The Gateway at Hougoumont. destined to be his last, the British army ard its German allies were enduring a hard fight at another point. On the morning ot the 1 6th, Marshal Ney, with some 40,000 troops, attacked the Belgian con- tingent, under the Prince of Orange and General Perponcher, whom he compelled to fall back upon the cross-road of Ouatre Bras. The battle was about to conclude, with entire discomfiture of his opponents by the fiery Marshal, when Picton's division, arriving from Brussels, appeared on the scene ; and the Duke and his staff likewise arrived. The British cavalry and artillery had not yet come up ; and though the " Black Brunswickers," — a body of hussars fi'ise of bayonets, over which the rear ranks fired at the advancing foe. Over and over again the heavy cavalry of the enemy, the formidable cuirassiers, came thundering against these squares, and strove to break them, but in vain. The horses could not be brought to face the glittering bayonets, and invariably drew off to the right and left when they came close to the living ramparts. It was here that, in heading a most gallant and spirited charge of his black horsemen, their young leader, the "Brunswick's fated chief- tain " of Byron, met a hero's death. Among the regiments, who all acquitted themselves well, the 42nd and 92r,d High- landers may be singled out for especial praise ; EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the 92nd especiaHy distinguishing itself by a tremendous charge against the French at seven in the evening, when the battle had been maintained with great fury for five hours. This charge cost the regiment its gallant leader, Colonel Cameron, who, with three other officers, was struck down. The 28th Regiment, known as the " Slash- ers," and the Royal Scots, led to the charge by Sir Thomas Picton in person, also excited -admiration by their daring and endurance, •conspicuous even among that gallant body, ■where " groom fought like noble, squire like knight, as fearlessly and well ; " and fresh spirit was infused into the hearts of all, when the Guards, under Sir Peregrine Mait- land, appeared upon the scene. Ney made the most frantic efforts to secure the victory he saw slipping from his hands, as the long midsummer day drew towards a close ; but the British ranks, wofully thinned by shot and shell, still stood imperturbable, and were not to be driven off. When night approached, the French marshal sent for a reserve corps he had kept back for a final effort ; but found, to bis mortification and disgust, that it had been removed by Napoleon, who had called it up to his own aid against the Prussians at Ligny. When the fight had raged ten hours, the exhausted assailants were called off, and the battle of Quatre Bras was as surely a victory for the British, with their allies of Hanover and Brunswick, as Ligny was a triumph for Napoleon. But it was a victory dearly purchased by the loss of 2,251 men and officers in the British army alone ; and the losses among the foreign troops would bring up the list of killed, \vounded, and missing to more than double the number ; 5,000 is the general esti- mate, and the carnage among the French had been even greater. The Highlanders had suffered terribly, having been for some hours prominently engaged. It is recorded how the piper of the 92nd, at ten o'clock that night, " played up " to collect his comrades. ■" Long and loud blew Cameron," says the account ; " but although the hills and valleys echoed the hoarse murmurs of his favourite instrument, his ultimate efforts could not pro- duce above one-half of those whom his music had cheered on their march to the field of battle." Retreat, and a new Position south OF Waterloo. The Duke of Wellington passed the night after Quatre Bras on the field of battte by a fire made for him by some men of the 92nd. It had been his intention to attack Ney next morning in the position at Frasnes, to which the Marshal had retired ; but the disastrous news of the discomfiture of the Prussians at Ligny, and their consequent retreat, necessi- tated a change in his plans ; for now Napoleon would be at liberty to act with his whole force against him. Accordingly, in the morn- ing of the 17th, the order was given for the army to fall back, to take up a new position nearer to Brussels. The retreat was effected in perfect order by the three roads leading to the new position ; and military authorities have agreed that the movement, executed in the face of an advancing enemy, was a masterpiece of skill. The cavalry, under Lord Uxbridge, most gallantly covered the retreat, a service of great danger and difficulty ; for so soon as Ney found that the British army was falling back, he launched his heavy cavalry against the covering force ; and the day was signalised by furious charges and counter-charges of the horsemen of the two armies ; the most splendid and effective being that of the Life Guards. " Its rapid rush down into the enemy's mass," says a chronicler of these events, Captain Siborne, " was as terrific in appearance as it was de- structive in its effects ; for although the French met the attack with firmness, they were utterly unable to hold their ground for a single moment." The charge in question is further described as having rendered the enemy far more cautious in his pursuit. The Duke had been strongly reinforced, and the artillery and rocket brigade did good work in keeping back the pursuers. The work on the i6th and 17th had been very heavy for the army that took up its position on the field of Waterloo, the centre laeing in front of Mont St. Jean, on the evening of the latter day. First there had been the march of twenty miles from Brus- sels ; then the harassing and protracted fighting at Ouatre Bras ; and lastly, the retreat, pursued by an eager and untiring foe. The weather also on the two days had been excessively hot ; but now a tremendous thunderstorm cooled the air, though it satu- rated the ground and converted the roads into deep mud. During the night the rain at intervals fell in torrents, so that the bivouac on the field of Waterloo was far from a desirable one. During the day the Duke had found means to communicate with Bliicher, to whom he announced his intention of offering battle to the French, from his position, on the fol- lowing day, if Bliicher would support him with two Prussian army corps. Gallant old " Vorwarts " sent back word in reply that he would come, not with two corps, but with the whole Prussian army ; and in the face of great difficulties he kept his word. On re- ceiving this answer, Wellington proceeded to make the best dispositions in his power for strengthening himself for the morrow's fight. The centre of his position was three hundred yards in advance of the farm of Mont St. 122 FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO. Jean, and three-quarters of a mile south of the village of Waterloo, — a long, straggling, double row of houses on the road leading southward from Brussels to Charleroi. On a row of heights across this road the British anny was drawn up, the reserves and a part ■of the force being posted in the declivities between the undulations, to hide them from the view of the enemy. The farmhouse, or rather chateau, known as the Chateau Gou- mont or Hougoumont, on the right of the Duke's position, was immediately strength- •ei:ed, as far as practicable, by piercing the walls for musketry, and other means ; for the Duke saw at once the great importance of •occupying it, and the danger of having his line pierced if it were taken by the enemy. To the north-east of Hougoumont another farmhouse, known as La Haye Sainte, was likewise occupied. Some companies of the on raw carrots or turnips, dragged out of the soddened ground. Napoleon exhibited exultation on finding the British army drawn up opposite him on the following morning. ^^ Ah, je les Hens enfi7i, ces Anglais ! " is his recorded ex- pression. Still he was in no hurry to begin the contest, and let hour after hour go by unemployed. It is conjectured that he was awaiting the return of Grouchy, con- sidering the Prussians as hopelessly beaten and scattered. Others have thought he waited till the ground, saturated by the rains, should be more practicable for artil- lery. Be that as it may, it was not until nearly noon that he gave the signal for attack, and the famous battle of Waterloo began. The Great Battle and its Issue. On the part of the English, Waterloo may Monuments on the Field of Waterloo. •Guards and Brunswick troops were stationed at Hougoumont, while La Haye Sainte was entrusted to a part of the German Legion. The forest of Soignies, supposed to be the " forest of Arden " of Shakespeare, iii the I'ear of the Duke's position, offered a con- venient and safe retreat in case of repulse ; for a pursuing foe would hardly venture into its depths. The French, following close upon the heels of their foes, took position on the ■opposite heights ; the space between the two armies forming a shallow valley about three quarters of a mile in breadth. The French underwent the same discomforts in their bivouac as those suffered by their foes ; and are said to have been far worse off in the matter of commissariat, for the speed with which they had marched had not enabled the waggons to keep up with the advance, and many a poor soldier supped that night be described as a battle of endurance. A series of tremendous onslaughts were made by the French, and these were successively beaten back by the steady and stubborn valour of their foes. The quaint remark made by the Duke himself cluring its pro- gress, as he rode past a regiment in the thick of the fight, well describes its nature : " Hard pounding, gentlemen," said the im- perturbable chief; "let us see who can pound longest." In a letter to a friend he described "our battle of the i8th" as a strife of giants. " Never did I see such a pounding match," he wrote. " Both parties were what in boxers' language would be called gluttons." And again, " Bonaparte did not manoeuvre at all. He simply ad- vanced in the old fashion, in columns of attack, and was beaten off in the old fashion." The unaccountable delay of Napoleon, 223 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. who had everything to gain by promptitude, caused the battle not to begin until about noon ; when the French Emperor sent six battahons of infantry, under his brother Jerome, to attack the British position at Hougoumont, which was defended by the Guards and by the Brunswick troops. In a short time the battle became general along the whole extent of the lines. The French never fought better. Their attacks were most vigorous, and were re- newed again and again with equal fierceness and determination. Especially about Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte did the conflict rage, through the long June afternoon and evening, with unexampled fury. The Coldstream Guards defended the former important point, which was considered the key to the English position, in a way that gained them immortal honour, under their brave leaders. Lord Saltoun, Colonel Macdonnell, and Sir John Byng. "Your Grace need not fear for Hougoumont, for Saltoun is there," was the answer of an aide-de-camp despatched to see how things were going at this important point. The old gateway at Hougoumont still bears traces of the conflict of that day on its smoke-blackened and bullet-scarred beams. The court-yard was held against the assailants with the most stubborn determination, and all the efforts of the French to get possession of Hougoumont were vain. At La Haye Sainte they were more success- ful. The unfortunate failure of the defenders' ammunition enablc'd them to take the place ; from whence they advanced with great de- termination against the allied position, but only to be driven back with great loss ; for Picton's division, with its gallant leader at its head, charged them, and hurled them back discomfited ; gaining this success, however, at the price of the life of the brave Picton himself, who fell struck by a musket- ball in the temple while leading his men to the attack. The union brigade of cavalry, consisting of the Royal Dragoons, the Enniskillen Dragoons, and the Scots Greys, under the command of the Earl of Uxbridge, signalised itself by a tremendous charge, in which 3,000 of the enemy and two eagles were captured. Here it was that the gallant Sir WiUiam Ponsonby fell. The advance of the French cuirassiers against the British centre was beaten back in a similar manner by the Life Guards and Blues, under Lord Edward Somerset. The fire of the artillery on both sides was tremen- dously heavy during the whole day. The defensive position in which the English were so long kept was naturally most harassing ; for thousands were struck down by the enemy's artillery fire as they stood in theii ranks. Thus, as the Duke passed in front of the regiments, he was frequently received with urgent cries, begging him to allow his men to charge ; but his invariable reply was, " Not yet, my men, not yet." It was at four o'clock that a more combined effort than they had yet attempted was made by the French cavalry to sweep the British infantry from their position. But the English formed into squares, and, as at Quatre Bras, the French cavalry found these impregnable, and after the most gallant exertions and the heaviest losses were compelled to retire. Napoleon, meanwhile, had been watching with surprise and disquietude the stubborn resistance of foes, who, according to his idea, had been beaten, though they did not seem to know it, and who ought to have retired from the field hours before. On this point, however, Soult, who knew the quality ol these troops, undeceived his master, assur- ing him that the British would stand until they were cut to pieces, but would not give way. How the long day ended has been told a hundred times. The Prussians had gallantly striven to redeem their leader's pledge of coming to the support of the English ; and through roads in which their gun carriages sometimes sank axle deep in the mire, were struggling onward to the scene of strife, while Grouchy still came not. The evening had come when Napoleon made his last effort by sending forward the Imperial Guard, which he had kept in re- serve. The " deliberate and sedate " valour of the English, never more confident and steady than towards the close of a hotly- contested day, was here brilliantly displayed. The long thin lines that had stood all day on those heights were ready as ever for the combat, when their leader, profiting by the confusion caused among the foe by the tremendous artillery fire, and the volleys of musketry poured into Ney's advancing columns, gave the long-wished-for word for the whole line to advance ; and when the British came pouring down from the heights they had occupied all day, spite of shot and shell sabre and bayonet, and then Napoleon, aghast amid the rout of his legions, declared that his men were in inex- tricable confusion, and that the battle was over : "//j- sont ineles ensemble — c'est fini ! " and with the wreck of his army he turned and fled. From Elba to Waterloo, the Hundred Days, had been a period of short but intoxi- cating triumph ; from Waterloo to St. Helena was the next and the last stage in the life journey of the vanquished conqueror H. W. D. 224 An Ancient Scottish Feudal Castle. SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY: THE STORY OF THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN. " Stories to read are delitable, Suppose that they be nought but fable ; Then should stories that soothfast [true] were. And that were told in good manere Have double pleasure in the telling. * * * * » I tell of Robert of Scotland, That hardy was of heart and hand ; That of his praise and chivalry In far-off lands renown'd was he." Barbour's " Bntce.'* Introduchon— Bntons, English, Picts, Scots— Scotland, Edinburgh— A Glance at the early Scottish Kings— The English Connection begins— Want of Unity of Races in Scotland— Wars with England, Battle of the Standard— The King of Scotland becomes the King of England's Vassal— Progress in Wealth— A Heavy Trouble begins— The Trouble Thickens- England the Arbitrator— Humiliation-Scotland Arises, but is Trampled down— Wallace to the Rescue- Still Unconquered— Robert Bruce— King Edward's Vow of Vengeance— The Avenger laid low— Adventures of the Fugitives, etc.— Brighter Days begin— King Edward XL— Frivolity takes the place of Fierceness— The Siege of Stirling Castle— A Battle imminent— Site of the Battle— The Battle-Flight of King Edward— Bruce's Nobleness in Tnumph— Results of the Battle. Introductory ; Britons, English, PiCTS, Scots. ]LL readers of history know that the island which we call Great Britain contains the three portions, England, Scotland, and Wales, and that it once con- tained a Celtic population, most commonly known by the name of " Britons." This island of Britain was conquered by the Romans, and held in subjection nearly five hundred years. Then there came into the southern part a new race of Teutons, or Germans, and these are generally named the " English." For more than five hundred years the English settlers were divided into seven kingdoms, then they were joined in one (a.d. 814). It is the purpose of the present narrative 225 Q EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. to trace the growth of the nation inhabiting the northern part of the island. I suppose our first memory of its history is that the Britons, when their Roman conquerors left them, weakened by their long subjection, found themselves greatly harassed by "the Picts and Scots." The reader might easily imagine to himself that he knew who the Scots were, but was not so clear about the Picts, and yet might be mistaken on the first head. The Picts were really the whole inhabitants of Northern Britain, except the south-west portion of it, comprising the modern counties of Argyll and Dumbarton, and the isles of Arran, I slay, and Jura. Here the Scots had settled themselves, a colony whose native home was Ireland. This must be remembered to begin with when we study the history of our sister nation of the north. Scotland ; Edinburgh. In the middle of the ninth century the Scots overcame the Picts, and so all the country north of the Firths of Forth and Clyde came to be called Scotland, after the conquerors (a.d. 843). The land south of this had varying fortunes ; sometimes it was a separate kingdom, sometimes it was subject to the King of Northumberland. In 617, the latter kingdom had become for the time the most powerful in the Saxon heptarchy, and its king, Edwin, carried his conquests as far as the Forth, and founded a city, named after him, Edwin'sburgh — Edinburgh. From that time the country south of the Forth, known by the name of Lothian, was really English in blood. The Scottish kings, how- ever, pushed southward by invasions of the Scandinavians in the north, pressed within the English border, until about the beginning of the eleventh century Lothian was given to them to be held, not as part of Scotland, but as an English earldom ; they acknow- ledging the supremacy of the English king over this territory. There was another portion of which we have not spoken. Strathclyde was the name of the district which now comprises Cumberland and the south-west counties of Scotland. It had been con- quered by the English, but was granted to the Scottish crown as an appanage. Thus it will be seen that the Scottish kings held three separate dominions on three different ' tenures ; the first of which, the kingdom of Scotland, was quite independent of England, but not the other two. A Glance at the Early Scottish Kings. Meanwhile Scotland had become con- verted to the Christian faith, and the history of the conversion of the north forms a beau- tiful chapter in the records of missionary enterprise, though it is no part of our present subject. Nor can we speak of the earliest kings of Scotland ; but in 1004 we note the accession of Duncan. There is a tradition that his succession was secured by the murder of one, who had a better claim ; if so, judgment followed the deed. The mur- dered man's sister, Gruach, married the Chief of Moray, Macbeth ; and he revenged the deed by murdering Duncan in a smith's hut. Shakspeare's magnificent tragedy, therefore, has some truth in it, but more fiction. Macbeth ruled wisely and well, but Duncan's father got up a rebellion in favour of the dead king's sons, Malcolm and Donald. They were assisted by Siward, Earl of Nor- thumberland, and after a long struggle, Mac- beth was defeated and slain. The new king, Malcolm, is brought into close connection with English history by his marriage, and from this time, more than ever, the manners and language of the Scottish Court are English, and not Celtic. To see how this marriage came about we must turn to England for a little. An English Connection Begins. The Danish conquests had wrought great woe to England for the time being, though good in the end came out of them. When Edmund Ironside was murdered in 1016, his two sons fell into the power of Cnut. They were sent first to Sweden, then to Hun- gary ; and in this latter country, which was ruled by a good king, they were well and happily nurtured. One died there ; the other, after some years, was invited to England by his cousin, Edward the Confessor. Two years afterwards he also died, leaving a son and two daughters ; the son, Edgar, being the youngest, apparently only six years old. But though he was the lineal descendant of Alfred the Great, the Confessor made no reference to him in his will. Not only his youth but his foreign connexion, probably barred him from the succession in Edward's eyes, who be- queathed the crown to Harold. How William the Norman fought Harold, and slew him, and became King of England, we need not pause to tell. The little Edgar was presented ta him ; William took him up in his arms and kissed him, promised to be his friend, and kept his word. But the friends of the three children, apparently dreading some treachery,, resolved on sending them back to their mother's relations in Hungary, They were driven by storm on the Scottish coast, and were brought to King Malcolm. He remembered his own obligations to the old English court, became their partizan, and encouraged two disaffected English lords to revolt against the Conqueror. This was in 1071. The rebellion was quelled ; then William marched to the north, cossed the Forth, and was met by Malcolm, who- swore solemn fealty for Lothian and Cum- 226 SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. berland, thereby admitting William's royalty. This trouble was at an end then. Next year Malcolm married Edgar's beautiful sister, Margaret ; the other sister went into a convent. Queen Margaret thus found herself the chief lady in a court which was little better than a horde of untamed, savage warriors. By her gentleness she civilized them ; and to her, more than to any one, we must attribute the nobler and better vie w of life and its duties which grew up in the northern court. King Malcolm was slain in 1093, and his good Margaret only survived him a few days. Then heavy troubles fell upon Scotland for five years, after which Malcolm's son Edgar succeeded, and reigned prosperously. When the Red King was slain in the New Forest, his eldest brother, Robert, was in Italy, and Henry Beauclerc, the Conqueror's youngest son, seized the crown. He strengthened his position both with the Scots and the English by his marriage with Malcolm's daughter Edith. The Scots were pleased for the honour done to them, and the English be- cause Edith was connected with their ancient dynasty. Her name was changed, however, to Matilda or Maude, to please the Normans, who disliked Saxon names. Want of Unity of Races in Scotland. As the Scottish kings came more and more to attach themselves to English customs, and to look upon Lothian as their richest pos- session, they alienated the dwellers in the old Pict country in a great degree from them. There was in fact the same sort of antipathy which we see between England and Wales later on, and between England and Ireland now, z'.^., the antipathy between Teutonic and Celtic blood. Many troubles arose out of this during the " English period," as it is sometimes called, which began with the marriage of Malcolm and Margaret. Thus in the reign of Edgar (1097-1107) the King of Norway invaded the northern part of the country, and the " lords of the Isles " declared in his favour. In the next reign the men of Moray rose again ; but the King, Alexander I., put them down with such vigour as to win for himself the surname of "The Fierce." The next king was David I., who by his- marriage with the heiress thereof became English Earl of Huntingdon. But when he went to take possession of his new fief, the Moray men again rose, and on their defeat, Moray was divided among the Norman knights who had helped King David. Wars with England ; Battle op the Standard. When Stephen was made King of England, David took up the cause of his niece Matilda ; and his armies, comprising Scots from the north, Northmen from the Orkneys, Teutons from Lothian, committed great ravages in the northern counties. The English barons, though themselves torn with contentions between Stephen and Maude, were indignant at the doings of the Scottish king, and made common cause against him, and met him at Northallerton, in a battle known as the Battle of the Standard. The English were drawn up round a standard, which consisted of the consecrated host, elevated on a ship's mast, with banners of saints floating around it. One main cause of the Scottish defeat on this day occurred again and again in after years, and was in great measure the cause of the disaster at Flodden, namely the different mode of fighting adopted by the men of Lothian from that of the northern Highlands. The former were well-armed, well-disciplined men, who would stand their ground ; the latter were wont to rush with terrific force on the enemy, in the hope of breaking their ranks ; but if they failed in this, they retreated in order to make a fresh attempt. Unfortunately for both themselves and their allies, this retreat too often had the effect of throwing the latter into confusion. In the present case the English arrows drove back the Highland men, and the battle was lost. David, how- ever, still continued to fight until his death at Carlisle in 11 53. After him came in succes- sion his two sons, Malcolm IV. and William the Lion. The latter, aiding the rebellious sons of Henry II. against their father, was by him surprised and captured at Alnwick, and sent a prisoner to Falaisein Normandy, I174. There King Henry gave him his freedom on condition of signing a treaty that he would hold the whole kingdom of Scotland on the same terms that he and his predeces- sors had hitherto held Lothian, that is, as a vassal of the King of England. The King of Scotland becomes the King of England's Vassal. Next year, in accordance with this treaty, the King of Scots, with his nobles, did homage to the King of England in York Minster. This treaty held good until Henry's death. Then Richard I., being in want of money, released King William from his bond on the payment of 10,000 marks, retaining, however, on the old footing the suzerainty of Lothian. And in accordance with this, on the accession of King John, William did homage for Lothian, as was the manner before the Treaty of Falaise. These points are all-important to note, as much turns upon them in the great after struggle. Progress in Wealth. Meanwhile the progress of commerce and the growth of free towns had greatly increased, and the increase of William's power is shown by his being able to hold his court at 227 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. such far-off places as Nairn and Inverness ; and although there was one of the usual risings in Moray at the accession of his successor Alexander II. (1214), it was put down more easily than had ever been the case before. Alexander III. (1249- 1266) married Margaret, daughter of Henry III. He went up to Westminster to do homage to Edward I. for his English fiefs, as his fore- fathers had done. Edward claimed the death of her grandfather Alexander, for his only son died a year or two before him. The Trouble Thickens. King Alexander had been killed by falling from his horse over a cliff. The suddenness of the event had contributed to the confusion which followed it. Six regents were appointed to govern on behalf of the three-years- old queen ; three of them being chosen from the King Robert Bruce. overlordship of all, but it was not admitted, nor did he then attempt to enforce it. But now fresh troubles were to arise, and to pro- duce most important results. A Heavy Trouble. In 1281, King Alexander's daughter Mar- garet married the heir to the throne of Nor- wa>y. She only lived two years after this, leaving an infant daughter. This daughter became heiress to the Scottish crown on the land north of theForth, and three from Lothian and Galloway. The incident shows how much the different portions of the country still held aloof from each other. The regents had not long to hold their office, for on her way to Scotland the "Maid of Norway" died. As she was the last lineal descendant of William the Lion, her successor had to be sought from the descendants of his brother David, Earl of Huntingdon. There were many claimants, but the real contest lay be- 228 SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. tween three. David had left three daughters. John Balliol, Lord of Galloway, was grand- son of the eldest ; Robert Bruce, Lord of Annandale, a Norman by descent on the father's side, was son of the second ; and John Hastings, Lord of Abergavenny, son of the third. The latter, too, had clearly no right, unless the country were regarded as a fief of the English crown, and not an inde- pendent kingdom. In that case, indeed, the fief was divisible among the representatives of the three heiresses ; but in the case of an independent kingdom, the choice was be- tween Balliol and Bruce. According to our present ideas, Balliol's right would be in- contestible. England the Arbitrator ; Humiliation. All Scotland looked to Edward L to settle the difficulty, for by universal consent he was overlord over Lothian, though the rest was matter of dispute. He opened a Parliament at Norham, in 1291, to settle the question, and began by claiming overlordship of the whole country. The Scots were taken by surprise. The lords and many of the claim- ants were fain to yield. They saw no practi- cal evil likely to ensue, for they were mostly Normans themselves, and allied in many ways with the English nation. The Com- mons, indeed, refused to admit Edward's claim, but they were feeble and unable to act. He carried his point, therefore, and was acknowledged as overlord of Scotland, and the fortresses were handed over to him as a pledge of this till he should make his award. He decided, and rightly, according to the principles of modern law, in favour of Balliol, as the representative of the eldest daughter. The award was accepted, and Balliol did homage to Edward for his king- dom. Scotland arises, but is trampled DOWN. But the wound thus caused rankled in many a breast, and before long Balliol re- fused to admit the right of the English king to hear appeals against his legal decisions. To this step he was urged not so much by the Scots as by Philip the Fair, King of France, who was jealous of the great and un- precedented power of the English monarch, and hoped, by kindling strife between the two nations of Great Britain, to gain an opportunity to seize the Enghsh possessions in France. A war of England against both nations was the consequence, but we have to follow only the northern. The first result of it was the destruction of Berwick-upon- Tweed. It had been the greatest merchant city of the north ; it never became a great town again. Edward then marched north- wards, Bruce joined his standard, the great towns opened their gates, Balliol himself surrendered, and was sent to an English prison. The submission was complete. Ed- ward carried away the sacred coronation stone from Scone, and placed it in West- minster Abbey, before the shrine of Edward the Confessor, underneath a stately chair, which has been used as the coronation chair of English monarchs to this day. A Hero Appears ; Sir William Wallace. But a very few months saw all his schemes undone. One cause of anger to the Scots was that they saw English clerics and barons intruded into Scottish lands ; another was that the strict administration of justice spoiled the doings of freebooters and cattle-lifters — ■ just and unjust alike clamoured against the English usurpation. An outlaw knight, Sir William Wallace, called the people to fight for their national freedom and birthright, and the response was enthusiastic. In Sep- tember 1297, Wallace, with the army thus called together, met the English, under John de Warrenne, near Stirling. The English were crossing the Forth by the only availa- ble bridge, and half of them had got over when Wallace fell on them and cut them to pieces ; the remainder of the English army fled over the border. Then Edward himself took the field. He came with an immense host, and met Wallace, July 22nd, at the battle of Falkirk. The struggle was fierce and bloody, and ended with an utter rout of the Scots. And still Scotland was unconquered. Her national life had been roused by Wallace's patriotism. Edward was hard put to it for supplies, and the French war also was so dangerous to him that he had to withdraw homewards. In 1304 he came again, again was acknowledged as overlord by the nobles, proceeded to make arrangements for better administration of justice in Scotland, and once more returned to London, carrying Wallace with him as a prisoner, he having been betrayed during the King's visit. There seems too much reason to believe that he had gratified his hatred to the English by horrible cruelties ever since the Falkirk de- feat ; but Edward's conduct towards one whom the Scots loved was unwise. Wallace was tried as a traitor in Westminster Hall, and hanged. His head was stuck on a pole on London Bridge, and the four quarters of his body were sent to be hung up in four Scottish towns. The resentment of the Scots was bitter and lasting. Still Unconquered ; Robert Bruce. Hardly was the sentence executed when they again rose in arms, headed by Robert 229 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Bruce, the grandson of the original competitor with Balliol. His father and grandfather had been partizans of the English crown in the war with BaUiol ; but now that Balliol was withdrawn, and Scotland seemed alto- gether at the mercy of the conquerer, Bruce revived his grandfather's claim to the crown. Comyn, one of the Scottish nobles to whom he had communicated his views, disclosed them to the Englishjwhereupon Bruce stabbed him to death in a church in Dumfries, and then, feeling that there was no longer any possibility of temporizing, he went to Scone and had himself crowned king. It seemed a desperate step ; for King Edward, half- maddened with fury, once more marched to- wards Scotland, vowing terrible vengeance. King Edward's Vow of Vengeance. He would " execute vengeance for the con- tempt done by Bruce to God and the Church, after which he would never more bear arms against Christians, but would finish his days in warring against the infidels in the Holy Land." His son Edward also, — whom with three hundred other youths he knighted at starting for the war, — vowed never to tarry two nights in one place till he arrived in Scotland. King Edward was now old, however, and could move but slowly. Having reached Lanercrost, in Cumberland, he determined to rest there ; but he sent justices to Berwick to try all prisoners, especially those that were accused of com- plicity in the death of Comyn ; and all against whom a conviction could be obtained were ruthlessly hanged and quartered. The Countess of Buchan, who had put the crown on Bruce's head, was sentenced to be shut up in a wooden cage on the top of one of the towers of Berwick Castle, and Bruce's sister an like manner on Roxburgh. But this com- bination of the sword of justice with that of war, the execration of the Church,* the * The Cardinal of Spain came to Lanercrost just at this time with a message from the Pope respect- ing the marriage of the Prince of Wales with Isabel of France, and was induced to gratify Edward by joining the English bishops in cursing Bruce. ' ' He put on his vestments with the other bishops who were present,'' says the chronicler Hemingford, "and with lighted candles and the ringing of bells, they terribly cursed Bruce and his fellow malefactors." In Sir Walter Scott's poem, "The Lord of the Isles," the Abbot of Icolmkill, addressing Bruce, thus vividly paints the terrors of excommunication : — ' ' And thou, Unhappy ! what hast thou to plead, Why, I denoimce not on thy deed That awful doom which canons tell Shuts Paradise and opens hell ? Anathema, of power so dread, It blends the living with the dead, Bids each good angel soar away, And every ill one claim his prey ; piercing domestic wounds, — all were unable to break the courage of Bruce and his people. On the contrary, the spirit of insatiable revenge was kindled afresh every day by the sight of the cruelties inflicted with the forms of law, and the people determined to spend the last drop of blood before yielding. The English King, more in desperation, perhaps, than in the effort of a great mind, and in order to confute a report of his death which had gone abroad, set out once more for Scotland. But his race was run. On the first two days he advanced only at the rate of two miles a day. On the third he rested. On the fourth he reached the village of Burgh-on-the-Sands. He was carried — un- able to walk and hardly to speak — into a house. Next day the end came. The Avenger laid low. Barbour, the Scotch poet, tells — let us hope his tale is not true — that the King knew himself dying, and was making his arrange- ments for his kingdom when the tidings reached him that some prisoners had just been taken. Thereupon he " grinned," and, to the horror of the bystanders, ordered them to be all hanged and quartered. " Wonder there was of sic saying. That he that unto death was near Should answer upon such manere, Withouten pity and mercy. How might he trust on Him to cry That rightuisely doth doom all thing. To have mercie for his crying On one that through his felony At sic a point had no mercy ? " So writes the stern poet. The cruel sentence was executed, and was followed the same day by the King's death. It was July 30th, 1307. Adventures of the Fugitive King. The Earl of Pembroke took up the cam- paign as English general on King Edward's death, and led an army across the border. He found himself unresisted ; Bruce had Expels thee from the Church's care. And deafens Heaven against thy prayer, Arms every hand against thy life. Bans all who aid thee in the strife ; Nay, each whose succour, cold and scant. With meanest alms relieves thy want ; Hunts thee when hving, and when dead. Dwells on thy yet devoted head. Rends honour's scutcheon from thy hearse, Stills o'er thy bier the holy verse. And spurns thy corpse from hallowed ground, Flung like vile carrion to the hound : Such is the dire and desperate doom For sacrilege, decreed by Rome ; And such the well deserved meed Of thine unhallowed, ruthless deed." It is noticeable that, in spite of repeated bulls, the native Scottish clergy, throughout the whole struggle that followed, took no heed of this excommunica- tion, but continued to perform their functions. 2'^0 SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. fled for his life. After rnost distressing hard- ships he crossed the Frith of Clyde to Cantire, and thence, diffident of his safety, he sought it in the small and almost deserted Isle of Rauchrin [Rathlin], in the wild Atlantic. His adventures are among the foremost in the records of Scottish heroism. They have found a chronicler in the poet we have just referred to, John Barbour, Archdeacon of Aberdeen. Some of them are very likely legendary, but they one and all indicate the conviction of a high and noble character, raised up by God to be the deliverer of a nation. By way of specimen, we will quote one story from him, modernizing only suffi- ciently to make the language intelligible to the general reader. This story belongs to a period following soon after his coronation : — " To the King Robert again go we That in Rauchrj'ne with his menye [following] Lay till winter near was gone. And of that isle his meat has ta'en. James of Douglas was angry That longer they should idle lie ; And to Sir Robert Boyd said he, ■* The poore folk of this country Are charged upon great manere Of us that idle ly thus here. And I here say that in Arran, In a strong castle built of stone, Are English men that with strong hand Do hold the lordship of the land. Thither go we ; it well may fall That harm them in some thing we shall.' Sir Robert said, ' I grant there till [agree thereto] To lie here more were little skill ; Therefore to Arran pass will we. For I know right well the countre6 ; Also the castle right know f. Vv''e shall come there so privily, That they shall have perceiving, Nor yet witting of our coming. And we shall near ambushed be Where we their outcome plain may see. So shall it on no manner fall But scathe them in some wise we shall. ' With that they armed them anon. And of the King their leave have ta'en, And went them forth straight on their way. Into Cantire soon come are they : Thus rowing always by the land Till that the night was near on hand ; To Arran then they went their way, And safely there arrived they. And in a glen their galley drew. And soon they made it fast enough : Their tackle, oars, and eke their steer [helm] They hide all on the same manere, And held their way on through the night, So that before the dawn of light They were ambushed the castle near, . All armed upon their best manere ; And though they wet were, and weary. And through long fasting all hungry. They thought to hold them all privy Till that they well their point might see. Sir John of Hastings at that tide. With many knights of mickle pride, And squires, and also yeomanry. In truth a goodly company. Was in the castle of Brathwike. And ofttimes, when it would him tide [please], He went a hunting with his men, And so the land abandoned then. None durst refuse to do his will. And he was in the castle still The time that James, lord of Douglas, As I have told, ambushed was." A convoy, with the victaile and clothing, coming in three boats, is captured by Douglas and his men. Some are slain, and the rest raise a cry of terror. " When they that in the castle were Did hear the folks so cry and roar. They issued forth then to the fight ; But when the Douglas saw that sight, His men to him he 'gan to rally, And forth to meet them he did sally. And when they of the castle saw Him coming on them without awe, And how they fled without debate, And so were followed to the gate And smitten down, as they in passed ; The gate they straightway barred fast, That they might come at them no more. Therefore they left them each one there. And turned to the sea again, Where lay the men that they had slain. And when they that were in the boats Saw how they came, and how they smote So grievously their company, In haste they put themselves to sea. And rowed away with all their might. But soon the wind, as in despite, Against them made the breakers rise. That they could wield [master] the sea no wise ; And as they durst not come to land They tossed about, a helpless band. That of the three boats sunk were two. When Douglas saw that it was so, He seized the arms, the clothes , the food. The wine, and everything of good That he found there, and went his way. Right glad and joyful of his prey." Our next story must be in plain prose. It is one of the best-known stories of King Robert Bruce. Tidings came to him in Rauchrin of the execution of his brother by King Edward, and of skirmishes in which his followers were defeated, till he was quite in despair. One morning he lay upon his bed, sick at heart, and deliberating within himself whether any good purpose was to be served by his making further attempts on behalf of his country. Would it not be better to betake himself to the Holy Land, and fight against unbelievers ? For then he might also make his peace with the Church, which had been broken by the murder of Comyn. But then, on the other hand, the inner voice of conscience told him that what- ever the popular religion of the time might think, it was a plainer duty which lay before him to fight to the death for the restoration of the freedom of the country that he loved so dearly than to slink away to a land far off. Here indeed he might fail, but it would be cowardly, yea wicked, to leave his country deserted because the achievement of her liberty was the harder task. 231 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Thus he ruminated ; and as he did so, he looked up to the roof of his chamber, and saw a sight which engrossed his attention. A spider, hanging at the end of a long thread of its own spinning, was endeavouring, as its custom is, to swing itself from one beam to another, for the purpose of fixing the line on which to stretch its web. Six times, as Bruce counted, it failed. He bethought himself that he had fought six unsuccessful battles against the English, and waited for the omen of the seventh attempt. By that he would be guided, and he looked on with eagerness. The attempt was renewed. The spider gathered all the force it could muster, and swung itself again. It was successful ! The reader who shall visit Westminster Abbey will see the incident depicted on one of the stained glass windows of Henry the Seventh's Chapel, — a memorial of one who was descended from the brave Bruce, and whose last years were spent in a manner worthy of her ancestor's name, in working bravely and zealously on behalf of the poor of Westminster, — Lady Augusta Stanley. Brighter Days Begin. King Robert accepted the omen, and went forth from Rauchrin island full of courage and joyous hope. First he crossed to Arran. Inquiring if there were any strong men there, a woman answered that a strong body of men had lately come thither and slain the English warden, and that they were dwelling at "a stalwart place" hard by. " ' Dame,' said the King, ' would thou me wiss To that place where their dwelling is ; I shall reward thee but lesing [without lying], For they are all of my dwelling ; And I right gladly would them see, And so, trow I, they would see me." 'Yes,' said she, ' Sir, I will blithlie Go with you and your company, Till that I show you their repair.' ' That is enough, my sister fair. Now go we forward,' said the King. Then went they forth without letting [hindrance], Following her as she them led ; Till at the last she showed a shed To the King, in a woody glen, And said, ' Sir, here I saw the men That ye speir [ask] after make lodging ; Here, trow I, is their repairing.' The King then blew his horn on high, And made the men that were him by Hold themselves still and all privie. And soon again his horn blew he. Then James of Douglas heard him blow, And in a moment 'gan him know, And said, ' Of truth, yon is the King ; I know long time since his blowing.' A second time King Robert blew, And then Sir Robert Boyd it knew, And said, ' Yon is the King, no dread. Go we foith to him with all speed." So to the King they all did hie, And kndl to him all courteously ; And blithely welcomed they the King, Who joyful was of their meeting. He kissed them , and kindly speired How each and all of late had fared. They told but [without] leaving everything, Then praised they God for this meeting." King Robert's next step was to cross to the mainland of Scotland. He knew that he would be near his birthplace, and there- fore likely to find friends there. He sent a trusted servant over first to reconnoitre ; and if he saw good hope of support, he was to light a beacon fire. The messenger saw no such hope, for the English seemed strong ; but, by accident, some one unknown to him happened to light a fire, which Bruce took for his sign, and crossed. When he found out the mistake, however, he resolved to stand his ground. Little by little men gathered to him ; he won many successes, and many of his fol- lowers did brave deeds of arms. Still, as we have already seen, so long as Edward L lived, Bruce could only carry on desultory warfare and harass the enemy. He could not set up a court. But the English were afraid to venture into the open country, as they had formerly done. They lay still in their garrisons and waited for fresh help from the King of England. Douglas's Larder. One ghastly story of those days we must chronicle. Douglas— the same whom we have seen with King Robert at Rauchryne — found to his disgust the English in possession of his castle, which they had stored with corn and wine and cattle to help the English army when it came. He fell upon it sud- denly, on Palm Sunday, whilst the garrison were at church, slew or imprisoned the soldiers within the church, and then, as he knew he would not be able to hold it against the forces which would be sent against him, he resolved to render it uninhabitable and the provisions useless. He was, moreover, infuriated by the murder of a favourite servant. So he caused all the barrels of meal and wheat and malt, and all the hogs- heads of wine and ale, to be staved in, and the contents to be mingled together in a great heap. With this he mingled the flesh of the cattle which he had slain ; and then, horrible to tell, he slew his prisoners, and flung their dead bodies into the hideous heap, the name of which has come down in history as Douglas's Larder. Then he flung dead horses into the well to poison the water, set fire to the castle, and went away. But let us leave King Robert for a while with his brave though too often cruel heroes, and cast a look on the English Court under its new monarch. 232 SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. King Edward II. ; Frivolity takes the Place of Fierceness.- The weak and dissolute youth who had succeeded Edward I. seemed to ihink that he should not be really king unless he con- temned and counteracted his dead father's will. Having received at Roxburgh the fealty of such of the Scots as were disaffected to Bruce, he returned to Carlisle and thence to London. Hither he recalled Gaveston. r formidable union of nobles and prelates had been formed, that Edward was obliged to send Gaveston out of England, and he there- fore made him lieutenant of Ireland. The news came that Robert Bruce had overcome his enemies in Western Scotland ; but as these victories were at a distance from the English border, no uneasiness was felt at the English court. Moreover, although in the early part of 1308 Edward had married Isabel of France, her father, Philip, jealous A Battle with the Archers. a companion in vice, whom his father had banished. He talked much of what he in- tended to do in Scotland, and issued orders of preparation for carrying on the war ; * but all other concerns were put aside for idle and base pleasures with the favourite, whose rapacity and insolence still further embittered the hatred of the English nobility towards him. At midsummer 1308, such a * E.g., there was one order for "three thousand salmon to be barrelled " for provisions. always of English power, was inclined to ■favour Scottish independence ; and as the Pope was now his absolute tool, Philip used him also to favour Bruce. The two com- bined to persuade Edward to make a truce with Robert to last from the beginning of 1309 till All Saints' Day in that year. The respite from danger which this seemed to offer induced the wretched King to recall Gaveston from Ireland, and the two com- panions in evil met at Chester in June of that year. Perhaps the fury in England at 233 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. such shamelessness induced the Scots to break the truce. At any rate they did so, and preparations were renewed in England for fighting. The campaign opened with evil auguries for the English King. The nobility were angry and shocked at the abuses and crimes of the King and Gaveston ; and when Par- liament met in the beginning of 1 310, they were able to carry a measure empowering twenty-one persons, prelates, earls, and barons, to ordain, i.e., set in order, every reformation which they saw necessary in the royal household. The Scots were now active and confident. The first English measure was the sending a fleet to the relief of Perth, which Bruce was besieging; and the maritime towns of England were requested to fit out ships, each accord- ing to its ability, amounting in all to forty, for transporting a body of troops from Ireland, who were coming to the King's aid. In the beginning of August Edward came to Northampton, whence he issued summonses to his military tenants to be at Berwick, with the service that each owed him, on the day of the Virgin's nativity (Sept. 8th). In September he entered Scotland, and on the 20th was at Roxburgh. He had left a disaffected country behind him, some of the greatest of his barons having refused to follow him so long as Gaveston was in his company. He led his army as far as the Friths of Forth and Clyde, destroying and ravaging the lands of the Scots, while they, without hazarding a general engagement, made sudden and fierce attacks from their woods, caves, and morasses. In one of these attacks three hundred English and Welshmen were cut off. Scar- city of provisions and severity of weather forced Edward in the beginning of November to retire to Berwick, where he spent the remainder of the season in the company of the Queen and nobles. In Scotland the dearth was so terrible that many were obliged to feed on the flesh of horses and other carrion. From Berwick Edward sent Gaveston as Commander-in-Chief into Scotland, in order that he might have the opportunity of win- ning military glory. He is said to have acquitted himself with courage and ability, for he led his army across the Firth of Forth, and endeavoured to bring the Scots to a battle. They, however, eluded him by re- tiring into mountains and behind morasses. The English Parliament, however, refused any compromise. The Ordainers ordered Gaveston into perpetual exile ; the Parlia- ment ratified this, and the favourite passed over into Flanders. Bruce saw the advantage he possessed in fighting against an incapable king. Entering England by the Solway Firth, he ravaged the parts adjacent; then returning, he captured the strong fortress of Dumbarton, and early in 1 3 12 he took Perth, executing all Scotsmen who had opposed him, but treating the English with consideration. And in the face of all this, the miserable King could not conquer his infatuation for Gaveston, brought him back from Flanders, reversed all the proceedings against him, and took him in his company to Newcastle, on his way to Scotland. But the barons had a leader in the Earl of Lancaster, the King's cousin, who was not only very able and courageous, but the richest man in the country. They declared at once that they would enforce the Ordinances by arms. Edward, accord- ing to the Monk of Malmesbury, secretly went to Bruce to beg for an asylum for Gaveston, until the storm was blown over, offering to confirm the Scottish crown to him. But Bruce replied that he could have no confidence in the promises of a man who had violated his solemn oath to his own lieges. There was no help here, then. Gaveston fled to Tyneniouth, thence to Scarborough. In the castle there he was besieged ; was presently captured; and on Blacklow Hill, near Kenilworth, he was put to death as a traitor, July ist, 131 2. In August, Bruce, having taken and de- stroyed many other castles, entered England again, burnt Hexham and a great part of the city of Durham. Next year, while the inha- bitants of Roxburgh were holding festival on Shrove Tuesday, Sir James Douglas took Roxburgh ; but a greater achievement was won by Randolph, the King's nephew, who, on the 14th of March, took Edinburgh Castle. , He, with thirty men, clambered up the face of the tremendous rock on which the fortress is built in the thick darkness of night, planted a ladder against the wall, and threw himself into it. In the midst of all this, the English King and Queen went to France for six weeks. They were not happy together, and seemed, to have gone there to endeavour to come, by Philip's help, to a better understanding. Bruce was not idle. He had given a pledge to the French King not to invade England, and kept it, but he reduced the Isle of Man to submission, and placed it under the government of his nephew Randolph. He also spent much time in training his men to fight on foot, v.'hich proved of the greatest use to him in his great battle next year. On King Edward's return, he immediately called on the Parliament for money for the Scottish war. It was granted. Parliament showing itself willing to befriend him now that Gaveston was out of the way. But when he set out on the march, the Earl of 234 SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. Lancaster still refused to accompany him, as did some other influential lords, in conse- quence of his refusal to ratify some other Ordinances. The Siege of Stirling Castle ; A Battle Imminent. Edward Bruce, King Robert's brother. that he would deliver the castle up to the Scottish King by a given day, if the English King should prove himself unable to relieve him. The relief of this castle was the object on which King Edward was now bent. Robert Bruce, animated by his past suc- cesses, and confident in the valour of his troops, resolved to risk a battle. He was Olu Ldi uukoh emulous of the glory of Douglas and Randolph, had laid siege to Stirling Castle, but it was a fortress of extraordinary strength, and the English governor. Sir Philip Mow- bray, was able to hold out against him ; but as the siege continued, Mowbray promised wise as well as bold, and used every precau- tion where so much was at stake. He knew that his army was far inferior to the English in point of numbers, and especially in cavalry. And he knew also that the ground in front of Stirling was most commodious 235 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. for himself, considering these circumstances. Here, then, he determined to await the English army. About the i8th of June, 1 3 14, King Edward set out with an army of about 100,000 men, 40,000 of them, according to Barbour, were horse, and of these, 3,000 " in complete plate and may]," who were to be placed in front of the battle. There were 52,000 archers. Such an army had never marched out of England before. They were divided into ten bodies of 10,000 each, " The whole country round shone with arms and ensigns." The Earls of Gloucester and Hereford led the van. As the army could draw no supplies from a country not only desolated by war but purposely stripped of everything which might help the invaders, multitudes of carriages moved with the army,* conveying not only provisions and baggage, but also articles of luxury and splendour, which soon afforded a rich spoil to the conquerors. The Site of the Battle. The village of Bannockburn lies about three miles south-east of Stirling. The writer of these lines visited it just ten years ago. The Bannock flows through the middle of the village, its waters but little tainted with the forges of the nailers. Low hills lie on the north, here and there covered with woods, and on the south, on the other side of the carse (valley), you see a bold barrier of downs. This was the spot which King Robert chose on which to stand his ground. His rendezvous was the Torwood, on the high road between Falkirk and Stirling, whither, on Saturday, June 22nd, 30,000 men had assembled. These he led to Bannock- burn on the evening of that day. For he knew that the English, to reach the castle, must either come here, or through a morass. But let the minstrel chronicler, Barbour, take up the tale awhile. He had probably his information from old men who had been eye-witnesses of the battle. " The worthy king when he has seen His host assemble all bedene [as bidden], And saw them wilful [full of good will] to fulfil His pleasure, with good heart and will ; And to maintain well their franchise. He was rejoiced many wise. Then straightway called his council he, And spoke them thus : ' Lords, now ye see That Englishmen with mickle might Have all prepared them for the fight. For they yon castle would rescue. Therefore 'tis good we settle now How we may let [hinder] them of this aim. * Malmesbury says, ' ' The multitude of carriages, if extended in a line, would have occupied sixty leagues." Now let us their way close to them. That they pass not with our consent ; We have with us, them to prevent. E'en thirty thousand men and more ; Now make we straight battaLons four, And place ourselves in such manere. That when our friends have comen here, We to the New Park* hold our way, For that gait certes pass must they. But if they will belowt us go. And on the marshes passing so. We shall be at advantage there. And judge we it right speedful [prosperous] war To go on foot unto this fight, Clothed all as one in armour light ; We risk us if on horse we fight, Since all our foes are men of might. And better horsed are they than we, And we shall in great peril be. And if we fight on foot, perfay [in faith], Advantage we shall have, I say. For in the Park, among the trees, The horsemen cumbered be always. The ditches, too, that are there down Shall put them in confusion.' They all consented to that saw [saying]. And so within a little thraw [short time] Their four battalions ordered they." He forthwith proceeded to arrange his order of battle. Randolph was appointed commander of the van, Edward Bruce of the right wing, Sir James Douglas of the left. In the rear of the left was the King, ready to direct the whole, and to supply assistance where it should be needed. J Each man was clothed in a light armour, which a sword could not easily penetrate. Each had an axe at his side, and a lance in his hand. On their right flowed the Burn, and in front of them was a formidable marsh, most difficult for heavy-armed horsemen to tra- verse. There was one dry spot of firm ground in. the midst of it, and here Bruce had caused pits to be dug, covered over with branches of trees and grass. The minstrel's graphic touch shows us in a moment the character of these " pits." " In the plain field, then, by the way Where it behoved that pass must they The Englishmen, if that they would Through New Park to the castle hold. He caused that many pots be made, A man's knee deep, a foot round braid [broad], So close that they might likened be To honey-comb that's made by bee." These pits, or "pots,'' as the poet calls them, had sharp stakes inserted in them, and * This was the name which the site of this battle then bore. Along the lowest part of the carse or valley. J His position was displayed to the whole host by his "standard pole," z.e., a strong pole, sometimes fixed upon wheels, in the present case upon a great stone, and on the top of it was a framed banner. Thus, in case of difficulty, every one knew where he was. The stone, called the Bore Stone, is still in its place on the field. Tourists having begun to break it up, the owner of the land has protected it with a grating. 236 SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. were, of course, certain to throw down and damage horses that trod in them. Next, King Robert detached his nephew Randolph to watch the lower road, through the carse. The event proved afterwards how wise was this precaution. Then, finally, he disposed of his gillies, or camp-followers. He sent them with all the carriages, baggage, and provisions, over a hill in the rear, which to this day is called Gillies Hill. which Bruce had spoken, was all but im- passable, but that by artificial means they might make it otherwise. So they filled up the pools in the morass, and threw bridges across the streams. Eight hundred picked men, fully armed and mounted, " yearning to do chivalry," as Barbour expresses it, were put under the command of Lord Clifford, with instructions to avoid the New Park, and to pass under St. Ninian's church on the Combat of the Infantry. The morning of Sunday the 23rd was spent in fasting, in prayers, and confession. In the evening the van of the English came in sight, and two good auguries had been seen ere set of sun. The first was this : The " vaward," or ad- vanced guard of the English, under Clifford and Hereford, after an examination of the ground, formed a plan, which, if it had been successful, might have changed the whole fate of the kingdom. They saw that the ground through the carse, the " below " of east side. The attempt was so far successful that Clifford had reached the low ground beyond the church before he was observed, although Randolph had been told off to watch this side. " Nephew," said Bruce, when he saw it, " a rose of your chaplet has fallen." With 500 spearmen Randolph hurried to intercept Clifford and his party ; and the action that ensued was a rehearsal, on a small scale, of the event of the morrow. The compact infantry, with their axes and daggers, 237 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. were set upon by the mail-clad horsemen. They threw themselves into a square, and received the furious onslaught, and were not broken. Again and again the fierce cavalry rushed on the devoted square to crush it, hurling missiles among them. The pro- truding spears of the footmen were a match for the lances, and ever as a horse fell, axe and dagger did the rest. Douglas saw Randolph thus beset, and besought leave to go to his assistance. " No," said King Robert, " you shall not stir one foot. I will not break my order for him." But as Douglas pressed, Bruce, evidently anxious for his nephew and favourite general, gave his assent. " Go," he said, " but speed thee soon back." ' As Douglas drew near, he saw that Randolph was gaining the advan- tage, and that the English were giving way. With true generosity towards one who was regarded as his rival, he reined in his men, that he might not diminish the praise which he saw that Randolph would win. His hopes were fulfilled, the enemy fled headlong, and found their way into the English encamp- ment. Barbour tells — wonderful if true — that on the side of the Scots there was but one man killed. The other event of that evening was this : By some misunderstanding, as it would seem, the English van pressed onwards without observing that the rest of the army was not following. Bruce, expecting a general at- tack, made ready. He was himself mounted on a "little palfrey," his weapon an axe ; on his helmet he had a purple bonnet, and on that a crown. Sir Henry de Bohun, a brave knight, Hereford's cousin, recognized the King by this crown, and rushed at him. Bruce, judging that flight back into his lines might discourage his men, and confident in his own strength, awaited his antagonist. As the two men spurred to the encounter, Bohun m.issed the King, who stood up in his stirrups as he passed, and dealt his antagonist such a blow with his axe that the knight's head was cleft in twain, and he dropped to the earth a dead man. The Scots, as they witnessed the deed, set up a shout of triumph, whilst the English fled back in dismay. The Battle. Sunday morning, June 24th, 1312, has dawned. The Scottish army, all on foot, except 500 men, of whom we shall hear pre- sently, began by hearing mass, and vowing that if they could not conquer they would die as martyrs to their country's freedom. Meanwhile the English army had come within reach. They had all caught sight of their enemy late on Midsummer eve. They knew nothing of the Scottish position, and for fear of an attack in the night, were obliged to remain sleepless under arms. This was hard work after the toilsome march from Berwick. Next day the English com- manders counselled a day's rest ;• it was a high festival, St. John the Baptist's Day, and the men would be the better for some re- freshment. The King, however, hearkened to the young and more favoured, and resolved on giving battle. As the two armies stood confronting one another in battle array, a bareheaded priest passed along the Scottish hues, holding aloft a crucifix, and on the moment every knee was bowed in adoration. King Edward beholding the sight afar off, cried out in exultation, " Yonder folk kneel to ask mercy." " They ask mercy, indeed, sire, but not of you. For their sins they cry to God ; but these men will win or die ; neither will they flee for fear of death." The catastrophe is soon told, for, indeed, the narrative is very simple and easy to follow. The English archers, who so often determined the victory on the side of their countrymen, advanced to the front and opened the battle. But Bruce, wary as well as bold, had prepared for this. The 500 horsemen, under the Marshal, Sir Robert Keith, suddenly rushed at them in flank, and so slew or dispersed them that from that moment none of them attempted to draw a bow. They fell back among the squadron of horsemen, who in vain attempted, even with blows, to rally them. The treacherous pits were at the foot of the long slope down which the English rushed to reach the Scots, who were drawn up on the other side. The Earl of Gloucester, attacked by Douglas, and irritated to see his men wavering, rushed into the thickest of the fight, and was beaten down from his horse. He had 500 knights around him, whom WiUiam Malmesbury curses* for not rescuing him. "Twenty,," he says, " might have done it." No doubt ; but probably it was their great number which made them so helpless. Pellmell they went down at the "honey-combed" pits, horse over man in terrible rout, " banners and pennons torn and befouled," and all amidst a hideous noise, as an eye-witness declares, of "blows and snapping lances, and battle cries and groans, and the screams of wounded horses. "t To the right rear of the Scots, as we have already mentioned, the cainp-foUowers were drawn up behind a hill. As Bruce's eagle t-ye saw the English terror-stricken at their first failure, he caused these gillies to march in battle array along the crest of their hill, with bits of linen tied to poles to look like banners. The English soldiers opposite to them took them for reinforcements, and the 238 * " Confundat eos Dominus." •)• * Chronicle of Lanercost." SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY. sight completed the demoralization of the Enghsh ranks. In this horrible moment of confusion and terror, the claymores of the Highlanders were seen flashing in the air as they rushed furiously, like the Greeks at Marathon, against the great, now unwieldy host. King Edward turned his horse and fled, and the sight of this was the signal for the universal rout and dissipation of the English host. Hundreds had never drawn a sword nor struck a blow. Numbers were drowned in the Bannockburn* and in the Forth ; num- bers, too, were slain and made prisoners ; and there would have been many more, but that the Scots, instead of pursuing, fell to plunder- King of Scots. Edward, therefore, accom- panied by a strong body of horse, turned his face towards Berwick. Douglas pursued after him, but with such a small body of men that he could only harass him and seize those who fell off from his company. The King, however, found himself hospitably received in the Castle of Dunbar, whose lord was still on the side of Edward, though in the year following he went over to the side of Bruce, and thereby forfeited his English fiefs, which were given to Percy, Earl of Northum- berland. The Earl of Dunbar sent the King to Bamlough Castle ; and on the third day after the battle he reached Berwick. Thence he issued a proclamation, setting forth that Dl'N'uar Castle. ing the baggage and stores of their enemies. Only two Scottish knights are said to have been slain, William Viport and Walter Ross. Of the English, 30,000 are said to have perished. Flight of King Edward. When Edward fled from the field he made his way first to Stirling Castle, the fortress which he had come to relieve. But the go- vernor refused to give him entrance. He had promised, he said, that if he were not relieved by a certain day he would surrender to the * Barbour says that the channel of the Bannock was so choked up with the bodies of men and horses that men could go over dryshod. he had lost his privy seal, and warning his subjects not to regard any order that should appear under it. Soon afterwards he retired to York, where he resided for several months, miserable enough. Lancaster and other haughty barons visited him here, not to con- sole him, but to exact advantage of his abject condition. The rest of his miserable reign shall trouble us no more. Bruce's Nokleness in Triumph. The Scottish king showed great moderation in his success. He treated his prisoners with humanity, and had the slain decently buried. King Edward's brother-in-law he released without ransom, and by him he sent back the lost privy seal. 239 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. The war dragged on for years, but always with one result, namely, that the Scots retained the advantage they had won. Results of the Battle. It only remains for us to sum up the results in a few words. Bannockburn, let it be re- membered, is at the northern point of what had been the Roman dominion. It was also the boundary between the Celtic Highlands and the Lowlands, which, as we have already seen, were really as much inhabited by a Saxon population as England itself. Here, then, on this Midsummer day 1 314, the Saxons of the Lowlands fought beside the Celtic people whose name they had taken, and to whose kingdom they had elected to belong. They had thusunmistakably declared that they chose to share the poverty of the half-civilized Celts, with their independence to boot, rather than become members of the wealthy and prosperous southern kingdom from which they had come, and from which they had been severed. This was one result. Another was the proof of the great principle which Wallace had laid down, that footmen, well managed, were able to prevail over mounted men-at-arms, hitherto deemed in- vincible. A few years before the Flemings had won their inclependence at the battle of Courtrai, and the following year (November 15th, 13 1 5) the Swiss overthrew their oppres- sors at Morgarten. A few men, bound together by the love of their native soil, were stronger than a great mass of feudal retainers fighting merely at the bidding of their lords. And in conclusion, there is this fact to be remembered, that Bruce was by descent a Norman peer. But he had thrown in his lot with the people whose home had become his own, and we therefore, without scruple, call him a Scot, He would desire no prouder name. He ruled his people justly, wisely, and bravely until his death, June 7th, 1329. His brave companion, Douglas, had his heart enclosed in a silver case, and started with it to Spain, where the Saracens were oppressing the Christian kingdom. Here he was slain, bravely fighting for the King of Castile. The heart was found under his corpse, showing that his last act was to defend it. It was brought back to Scotland, and buried under the high altar of Melrose Abbey. King Robert's body was buried in the church of Dunfermline, and a marble stone was laid upon it. Unhappily the church in the course of years became ruinous, and the stone was broken to pieces. But in the lifetime of Sir Walter Scott, when the church was being repaired, the fragments of the broken stone were discovered, and buried beneath it was the skeleton of the King. With the tears of hundreds who flocked thither, and with all imaginable respect and veneration, they once more laid to rest the restorer of the Scottish monarchy and nation. W. B. Stirling Castle. 240 Arrival of the Mail at the General Post Office. THE PENNY POST: THE STORY OF A GREAT REFORM. " Every morning, true as the clock, Somebody hears the postman's knock.' Modern Ballad. " Sir Rowland Hill will always be remembered with gratitude, not only in this country but throughout the world.' Poshnaster-GeneraV s Report, iSSo. The Old Posts and Posting — Ancient Carriers — Historical Sketch of the Penny Post of London — The Postboy considered — Dangers of " Riders "—The Cross-Post instituted— Ralph Allen— Mr. Palmer and Mail Coaches— The Old Mail to Bath— Rowland Hill: His Investigations; His Pamphlet upon Postal Reform — Up-hill Work — Suggestions for Reform -Reception of Mr. Hill's Scheme— Parliamentary Opposition — Efforts in Hill's favour — Evidence on behalf of the Scheme produced- -Results of the Committee's Enquiry— The Postal Reform Bill Passed — Guarded Proceedings — The Grand Result— Sir Rowland Hill— Post Office Work— Some Curious Facts— The Parcel Post— Conclusion. The Old Posting Days. N these days of rapid transmission of thought, by letter, telegraph, and telephone, it is difficult to conceive the state of postal communication five-and- forty years ago ; much less can we imagine the time when an important letter — even a State despatch — was moi-e than three days and three nights on the way up "from the Archbishop of Canterbury at Croydon to the Secretary of State at Waltham Cross"! We who write to the Twtes if the postman is late ; or if the service is not, when we expect it might be, arranged, can hardly bring our minds to grasp the fact that a coach and six horses, aided by the state, was obliged to relinquish the carriage of the mails between Edinburgh and Glasgow and back (about eighty miles) in the specified time of six days, because the contractors found the work too arduous !* One hundred years ago, or there- abouts, the first mail coach appeared in Edinburgh. Of the history of the Post, and of its more modern development, the Post Office, we need not say much ; but a few interesting facts concerning the progress of this mode of communication will be doubtless acceptable. In days of old, posts, or relays of men, were placed at certain intervals, and carried letters or despatches from one station to the other. * Household Words, Part I. 241 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. In remote antiquity, birds and dogs were em- ployed to carry messages ; and it is related that Cyrus the Persian instituted communi- cations in his expedition to Scythia, 500 years B.C. Amongst the Romans, Augustus was the first to establish relays ; and at the con- quest of Peru by Pizarro in 1532, relays of men were established from Cusco to Quito. The "posts" of ancient times, however, ■were never employed to forward private correspondence. The first real letter-post was established in the thirteenth century, between the Hanse towns. Camden mentions the " Mastir of the Postes " as being in ex- istence in England in 15 81 ; while previously and subsequently the "postes "were only the horse relays for carrying despatches. A post forthe carriageof lettersbetweenEngland and the Continent appears to have been arranged by certain merchants in the fifteenth century ; but in 1635, a certain Witherings "was au- thorized to run a post between London and Edinburgh, to go thither and back again in six days." Postal lines were laid down, and these horse-posts carried letters for the public, and the Government monopoly was esta- blished. Certain charges were made accord- ing to the distance the letter was carried, varying from twopence for less than eighty miles, to sixpence in England, and eight- pence to a town in Scotland. All the posts, except those for the Universities and for the Cinque Ports, were under the Government control in the time of Charles II. A " Penny Post " was not a new idea when Mr. Rowland Hill proposed its adoption in England. We read, that " in 1685 a penny post was set up for the conveyance of letters and parcels between London and its suburbs." This idea was a speculation by Robert Murray, and it succeeded so well that the Duke of York made a complaint that his rights as Receiver of Postal Revenues was being infringed by private speculation, and the scheme was swallowed up by the Crown. This was the germ of the " London District" Post, afterwards known as the " Twopenny " Post in our own days. A penny postal rate ■was established in Edinburgh, nearly a hundred years afterwards, by Williamson ; but here again the all-absorbing Government came in and took his scheme under their Historical Resume of the London Penny Post. It appears from documentary evidence that the establishment of a letter post origi- nated in the brain of a private person about the end of Cromwell's protectorate. This gentleman was named William Dockwra; and in 1683 the Penny Post was taken possession of by the Government, in con- sequence of the supposed interference of the individual with the rights of the Postmaster- General. After the Revolution, however, a pension was granted to Mr. William Dockwra on account of his misfortunes, and for the in- vention of the Penny Post. He was after- wards nominated Comptroller of the Depart- ment. A doggerel rhyme was written by him, as was supposed ; see " Poems on State Affairs":— " Hail mighty Dockwra, son of Art, With Flavia, Middleton, or Swart ! In the foremost rank of fame Thou shalt fix thy lasting name ; Nor new invention Fa.te thee hurt To be damned and beggar'd for't." Subsequently to this, viz. in 1708, an attempt was made by Mr. Percy to institute a Half- penny Post, in direct opposition to the Government monopoly. But the Crown proved too strong for him, and he was very soon suppressed. Mr. Dockwra afterwards got into farther trouble, and in consequence of mismanagement he was removed from the Post Office. Parcels were conveyed as late as 1765, when it was enacted that no packet exceeding four ounces in weight should be carried by the Penny Post unless it had passed, or was intended to pass, through the General Post. Originally the postage was paid in advance, and was so till 1794. The delivery of these letters " was limited to the cities of London, Westminster, and the borough of Southwark, and the respective suburbs thereof." But this limited mail did not suit the inhabitants around the city. They agreed voluntarily to pay an extra penny on receipt of their letters ; and this penny was for the benefit of the letter-carriers, in consideration of the in- creased distance they had to travel. After a time, however, the exigencies of the Depart- ment compelled it to absorb the extra fee in the revenue, and this was legalized in 1727. Queen Anne, 9 cap. 10, authorized a penny rate on all letters ".passing or repassing by the carriage called the Penny Post, esta- blisliedand settledwithinthe cities of London and Westminster, and borough of South- wark, and parts adjacent, and to be received and delivered within ten English miles distant from the General Letter-office in London." In 1794 this limit was overstepped, and an additional penny was again imposed on letters coming from beyond the circle to London and Westminster ; pre-payment optional. But in 1801 a very important change was made, when an additional penny was put upon all letters delivered by the penny post. In 1805, the postage tax be- yond the boundary was increased to three- pence, and newspapers had to pay one penny. The limits of the twopenny post were ex- 242 THE PENNY POST. tended in 1831 to a distance of three miles from the General Post Office, and letters for the Foreign or General Posts were exempted from the twopenny rate if posted within the three mile radius. In 1833, the limits of the Threepenny Post were extended to a distance not exceeding twelve miles from the Post Office. Newspapers were permitted to go free in August 1836. The London District Post continued a separate establishment from what was termed the General Post till 1854. The various improvements in the postal affairs of the United Kingdomwent on slowly. The Post was regarded as a fair aim byhigh- vvaymeri, and in 1700 these robberies became so general on the Border, that the respective Parliaments of England and Scotland found it expedient to draw the line in a very de- termined manner, and they made Post Office robberies punishable with "death and confis- cation." The Irish Post Office did not enter upon its duties till after the Scotch had learnt the value of correspondence. But so far back as the reign of the " Martyr King," "packets" carried the letters between Milford and Waterford, and from Dublin to Chester. The sanctity of correspondence has long been recognized, and in Queen Anne's reign it was enacted that no official should open a letter without special warrant. There have been cases in which the Post Office in late years has found it necessary to open and detain correspondence for political reasons ; but it is evident such a privilege should be very sparingly and cautiously exercised. Riding Post was the usual means of com- munication, and the postboy was quite a feature in domestic history. The Postboy Considered, The postboy as an institution has passed away, and yet for more than a century these riding-boys had been familiar in literature to every one, and their tenacity of life, and the mysterious manner in which, presumably, they departed from it, were remarked by Mr. Samuel Weller, whose uncontradicted tes- timony to the similarity between the endu- rance of donkeys and postboys must be accepted as historical. That these remarks are by no means irrelevant to the subject in hand will be seen when we examine Mr. Palmer's scheme for the amelioration of the Posts, a reform leading up, like Ralph Akin's, slowly but surely to the crowning triumph of the Penny Post in the United Kingdom. The postboy of the period had been made the theme of poets and romances. He was the object of much attention, not only from the peaceful and industrious, but from the ill-disposed section of the community. Cow- per's lines give us a picture of the typical postboy, but we fear the original was not altogether the interesting individual he ap- pears in the following extract : — " He comes the herald of a noisy world, With spattered boots, strapped waist and frozen locks, News from all nations lumbering at his back, True to his charge the close packed load behind. Yet careless what he brings — his one concern Is to conduct it to the nearest inn, And having dropped th' expectant bag, pass on. He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch ! Cold and yet cheerful ; messenger of grief Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some, — To him indifferent whether grief or joy." These postboys rode as they pleased, and generally conducted themselves in a very independent manner. Their official rate of progression was fixed at irve miles an hour — not a very tremendous pace to keep up on horseback. Their own lazy habits were also at times encouraged by the gentry, for we read that certain gentlemen " do give much money to the riders, whereby they be very sub- ject to get in liquor, which stops the males" — whether the riders or their charge is not specified ; a pun was probably intended by the writer of the sentence. When the utter inefficiency of the service is taken into consideration, and the dangerous condition of the roads is regarded, the won- der is that more postboys were not " missed." Highway robbery was a profession, and many instances could be related of carriages being stopped, even in Hyde Park in broad day- light, and the occupants told to " deliver." To be upset in a mud-hole was no uncommon incident even for royalty in those " good old days"; and if any reader wishes to satisfy himself respecting the state of our British highways in the time of the second George, he may turn to the pages of Arthur Young's " Tour in the North of England," wherein he will gain much curious information respecting the " vile cut-up lanes " and " execrable " roads so forcibly denounced by the traveller. " I would most seriously caution all travellers who may propose to travel this terrible country to avoid it as they would the devil," is his scathing condemnation of the district between Wigan and Warrington. On such roads the postboys had to ride with the mails. These " postboys" had, no doubt, many dangers to encounter ; and if the number of letters carried were not large, — as will be seen by the following advertisement of the period they were not, — the thieves were more nume- ous than at present. This is the announce- ment issued exactly one hundred and three years ago (the italics are ours) : — " General Post Office, Feb. 22, 1779. " The Postboy carrying the mail which was despatched from this Office last Friday night, was robbed by two foot-pads, with crapes over their faces, on Saturday night, 243 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY, at ten o'clock, at the bottom of Hack Lane, near Long Compton, between Eustone and Shipstone in Oxfordshire, of the whole Mail, containing the following bags." Here follows a list of thirty-four towns, some of large size, such as Liverpool, Worcester, Manchester, as well as the Irish Mail, all borne by a small boy, who was robbed by " two small-sized men," on a " dark, foggy night." A reward of ^200 was offered for the apprehension of the men, over and above the usual reward paid for the capture of highwaymen. The above will give readers some idea of the amount of correspondence which was carried on in 1 799, when one boy was sufficient to carry the letters for so many places, in the transmission of which the locomotives and many carriages of many lines, with an army of sorters, are now engaged upon, attended by a crowd of mail-carts and postmen for delivery of the correspondence of Liverpool alone. The Cross Post Instituted. The system of Cross-posts in England was suggested to the Treasury by Ralph Allen in 17 19. He had been engaged in the postal service at Bath ; and the delays, whereby the letters had to be carried first to the metropolis and again sent down to their country destina- tion, appeared to him ridiculous. He pro- posed to farm a certain portion of the country, and to pay six thousand pounds per annum for the privilege. His contract included the roads between Exeter and Chester, and Bristol and Oxford, and all the towns lying between those places, and to deliver letters three times a week ! This arrangement was shelved for a time, owing to Mr. Craggs having been so deeply implicated in the South Sea Bubble with his colleagues. But when a new Postmaster-General was ap- pointed, the contract was ratified. For seven years the scheme worked well, and the contracts were renewed and added to ; thus when Mr. Allen died, he left a good fortune to his family, and a legacy to Pitt, Earl Chatham, as well as the results of his good work and honest reputation. The character of Squire AUworthy of Fielding is drawn from Ralph Allen, who was celebrated by Pope— "Let humble Allen with an awkward shame, Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame ! " The results of Allen's endeavours were very beneficial, and the Post Office prospered. Fifteen years later, in 1793, the great and important Mail Coach era was initiated by Mr. John Palmer, who ranks almost with Rowland Hill in the list of Post Office re- formers. Palmer's Mail Coaches.- Coaches were not absolutely new inventions in Palmer's time. Before he made his pro- posal, certain " flying machines on steel springs " had beaten the fast Manchester stage, and Palmer fancied that the Govern- ment and private letters might be carried at an equally rapid rate. The private pas- senger coaches, he perceived, were really preferred by the population for the trans- mission of letters, and people did not hesitate to pay a considerable fee for the carriage, as a parcel, of the letters they feared to entrust to the unpunctual "postboy." Even the highwayman then scorned the game of mail stealing as scarce worth the candle in his lanthorn ; and the coaches carried the business correspondence of the community, while the revenue suffered in proportion. Palmer proposed to carry all the mails by coach, and to supply every such coach with a " guard," who was really to be an armed man, capable of attack and defence. But Post Office opposition bore down upon the reformer. " Red tape " had already tied the hands of officials, and " let ill alone " was the motto of the Postmaster-General. One curious reason adduced against the improve- ment was that m.urder would be added to robbery ! The argument used was that whereas the postboys were only robbed, being quite defenceless, the "guards," who resisted the highwaymen, would be killed ! It did not, apparently, occur to the Govern- ment to try to put down the highwaymen ; perhapSjlike modern statesmen, theyregarded " force as no remedy," and acted on that ridiculous maxim. There was, however, a regular tariff for injuries, ranging from ;^4 for the sight of one eye, to ^14 for the loss of both pupils ; so, perhaps, such recognition of claims was thought sufficient. Another objection made to Palmer was that the Department " did not see why the mail should be the swiftest conveyance " ! The clear-sighted lessee (for Palmer was the manager of Bath and Bristol theatres) sug- gested another improvement — viz., that when the mails were carried by coaches, ail of them should leave London, at a specified hour, together. His plans were pronounced "impossible.'' It was regarded as an "im- possibility " to bring letters from " London to Bath, or vice versa, in sixteen or eighteen hours." The run is now made in about two hours by the " Iron Horse." Pitt, however, did not agree with Mr. Hodgson, the objector, so the trial was made, and the essay was inaugurated in the London and Bristol coach in 1 784, less than one hundred years ago. On the 8th of August the coach left London, and accom- plished the distance to Bath in fourteen 244 THE PENNY POST. hours. The up journey was done in sixteen. Mr. Palmer was appointed Comptroller- General, with a salary and a commission on profits ; and notwithstanding the late increase in postage, the letters began to multiply ex- ceedingly. The official rate of speed rose His per centage claim was ignored for many years, but at last he was voted ^50,000 as compensation. The mail coach system ra- pidly developed, and in 1836 it was quite a popular sight to see the coaches start, — a sight familiar, no doubt, to many who read Rowland Hill. from six to ten miles an hour, and a mail- coach medal was struck and dedicated to Mr. Palmer. But although the success of the scheme was patent, the Post Office people endeavoured to impede it. Palmer lost temper, became indiscreet, and was sus- pended, and dismissed with ^3,000 a year. these lines. On the average, twenty-seven coaches left the Post Office, the passengers all in their places. The starting of the early coach is graphically described by Dickens in his "Sketches by Boz":— "The coach is out, the horses are in, and the guard and two or three porters are stowing the luggage 245 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. [ away, and running up the steps of the booking office and down the steps of the booking office with breathless rapidity. The inside passengers are ah-eady in their dens, and the outsides, with the exception of yourself, are pacing up and down the pavement to keep themselves warm .... every member of the party with a large stiff shawl over his chin, looking exactly as if he were playing a set of Pan's pipes. 'Take off the cloths. Bob,' says the coachman, who now appears for the first time, in a rough blue great-coat, of which the buttons behind are so far apart that you can't see both at the same time. ' Now, gen'l'men,' says the guard, with the waybill in his hand ; ' five minutes behind time already.' Up jumps the passengers. . . . . ' All right ! ' sings out the guard at last, jumping up as the coach starts, and blowing his horn. ' Let 'em go, Harry ; give 'em their heads,' cries the coachman, and off we start." In 1836 a new era of Post Office manage- ment was inaugurated ; the stamp duty on newspapers was reduced to one penny, and the work incrgased. At that time there were fifty-four four-horse mails in England, besides those in Scotland and Ireland, and nearly as many pair-horse coaches. Before this period Mr. Macadam had so greatly improved the roads that coaching was pleasant and rapid, and the position of coachman was one of great responsibility and importance — to the driver himself in no less degree than to his passengers. The guard, also clad in the royal livery, was by no means a vulgar fraction in the sum total, and waxed very punctillious and even overbearing at times, but honest and trustworthy to a very high degree, and the onerous duties imposed upon him he performed with a punctuality and accuracy beyond all praise, in all weathers, " over hill, over dale, through flood," amid storm and tempest bravely doing his duty. The records of the mail-carrying of those days are fascinating reading ; the adventures and escapes, and romantic incidents of the old coaching days and the mail service would fill volumes. The annual procession, on the King's birthday, of all the coaches was a fine sight, and one not likely to be forgotten by any young man who witnessed it. Horses, harness, coaches, were all turned out in admirable style. The year 1837 came in while the Post Office was under conside- ration, and the great practical reformer was at the door ! Mr. Rowland Hill. About twelve years after the institution of mail coaches there was born at Kidder- minster, on the 3rd of December, 1795, a boy, who was christened Rowland by his parents, the Hills. Mr. Hill was a school- master, and young Rowland — one of a family- of sons — appeared delicate, but was very studious. He displayed a decided taste for mechanics, natural philosophy, and drawing. He became a teacher in his father's school, and improved its arrangements very mate- rially. He became a member of a Society for the Diffusion of Knowledge, and patented a cylinder printing machine, the principle of which was afterwards adopted. In 1838 we find Mr. Rowland Hill much interested in the colonization of South Aus- tralia, and he was appointed Secretary to the Royal Commissioners for Emigration. In this capacity he no doubt had daily brought mider his notice the arrangements made for communication with the colony, and the- hopeless time spent in the transmission of letters, the high postal charges to emigrants and their poor relatives, who could ill afford to pay them. Pondering the question of the reform of the Post Office, Mr. Hill put himself in communication with a Mr. Wallace, a member of Parliament, who had frequently moved for returns and reports of the system employed by the Government. Hill obtained what information he could from Lord Lich- field, the Postmaster-General, who supplied all the assistance in his power, and Rowland Hill began to "make himself acquainted with the subject." It was quite time to stir in the matter, for the cost of a letter was very great, — much greater than in the days of Queen Anne, — and the result was that all kinds of conveyances were resorted to, and all kinds of subterfuges adopted to evade the tax. It was then quite a matter of conside- ration whether a letter could be sent and should be sent . Many most ingenious stra- tagems were employed to evade the pay- ment by the recipients on delivery. Some- times a mark upon the envelope told the receiver that all was well, and the letter was handed back to the postboy, with the remark that the addressee could not afford to pay. In the year 1837, Mr. Hill's pamphlet upon " Postal Reform " appeared. It developed a plan by which letters might be carried through the post from one end of the kingdom to the other at the uniform rate of one penny the half-ounce, without any ultimate loss to the revenue. Looking back with the experience of years and the knowledge of facts to direct us, we are apt to wonder why the Post Office authorities and the Government ever opposed such a measure. But in those days they did not, any more than at present, spontaneously use the best means for the public advantage. Monopolists never do. A cheap telegraphic rate is now as desirable as a penny postage was, and the adoption of the telephone would be a great public boon ; but the Post Office will not move without the great and most 246 THE PENNY POST. desirable pressure of public opinion now any more than they would in 1837. Companies or governments, whose existence depends upon the favour of the people whom they serve, and for whose benefit they are permitted to exist, should not forget that they do exist more or less on sufferance, and it is for their own benefit to suit public convenience, of which, as in the case of water, gas, and rail- way companies, they are apt to be very oblivious. Up-hill Work. But in his pamphlet the shortcomings, if any then existed in the Post Office, were not Mr. Hill's aim. In fact we believe the management of the Department had met Avith general approbation, and much of the success it enjoyed was attributed to the " fortunate provision of the law, which excluded all its efficient officers from the House of Commons, and even from voting at elections," thus keeping them independent of party influence. Notwithstanding the high rates of postage, the revenue of the Department had scarcely increased during twenty years, although the population, the means of knowledge, with trade and commerce, had immensely in- creased. Rowland Hill had foresight to perceive that a cheap rate would bring in more custom even if an immediate loss re- sulted while the system was developing. His anticipations he lived to see fully realized, and even far surpassed. Sir Francis Freeling was succeeded in the Post Office by Colonel Maberly, and he pro- posed to the Ministiy to obviate the incon- venient charges by distance on letters. These charges were so framed that, although the distance from a place where the letter was posted to the place where it was delivered might be only ten miles in a direct route, the recipient had to pay charges upon the dis- tance to London, and the distance from London to its destination ; so that if the first town were twenty miles from the metro- pohs, and the destination of the letter fifteen miles in another direction, the postage charged was twenty plies fifteen miles. But the Chancellor of the Exchequer declined to remit these charges, though he afterwards assented to Mr. Hill's suggestion. Mr. Hill's pamphlet made a great sensa- tion. Though only privately printed at first, it soon was issued to the public, and seized upon ever}-one much as the famous " Battle of Dorking " did in later years. The scheme was for " sweeping away the financial and account branches of the Post Office, and reducing its duties to the more mechanical functions of receiving, conveying, and de- livering letters ofwhich the postage should be collected by anticipation, at the stamp office, by means of a stamp to be affixed to the letter, and which, at the uniform rate of one penny, was to convey it free of any other charge to every part of the kingdom, and all this without any permanent loss, nay, with a probable future advantage, to the revenue." Mr. Hill's propositions were as follows : — (i) A large reduction in the rates of postage. (2) Increased speed in the delivery of letters. (3) More frequent opportunities for their despatch. (4) Simplification in the operations of the Post Office with the object of economy iii the management. Popular Evasions. These suggestions were at once approved by the masses, but the Government treated the reform with coldness. Mr. Hill brought forth batteries of argument, illustrating the losses incurred under the system by fraud and stratagem. One or two instances are worth quoting ; one in particular, in which Coleridge the poet was an actor, is a good illustration. When the poet was visiting the Lake District, he happened to be at the door of an inn when the postman appeared with a letter for the barmaid. She took it, and turned it round and round, and then inquired what there was to pay upon it. The man demanded a shilling for the letter, which sum the girl, apparently much disappointed, declined to pay, saying she could not afford it. Coleridge at once very kindly offered her the money ; and after considerable hesi- tation upon her side, she accepted it, and obtained the valuable missive. When the postman had disappeared, the young woman confessed to the poet that there was nothing written in the letter. She and her brother had made an arrangement, and composed a series of signs by which they could com- municate upon the envelopes without going to the expense of writing, or rather of paying for letters. "We are so poor," she said, " that we have invented this manner of cor- responding and 'franking' our letters." Franking letters was the privilege of the Government and members of the legislature, and by means of their signature the letter was carried free. A certain number of "franks" were allowed, and thousands were forged, while newspapers were carried free ; so the revenue did not benefit very largely at that time. Another instance of the prac- tices resorted to to evade the obnoxious post- age rate is related by Rowland Hill. He says, — " Some years ago, when it was the practice to write the name of a member of Parliament for the purpose of franking a newspaper, a friend of mine, previous to starting upon a tour in Scotland, arranged with his family 247 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. a plan of informing them of his progress and state of health without putting them to the expense of postage. It was managed thus: he carried with him a number of old news- papers, one of which he put into the post daily. The postmark with the date showed his progress, and the state of his health was evinced by his selection of the name from a list previously agreed upon, with which the newspaper was ' franked.' ' Sir Francis Bur- dett,' I recollect, denoted vigorous health."* The scheme proposed by Rowland Hill, as we have said, met with approval on all sides. Even the Quarterly Review of the period condescends to allow that it was pleased. " We ourselves were dazzled by the brilliancy of a theory supported, as at first sight it appeared to be, by a sober and candid state- ment of financial and statistical details," writes the reviewer. We will now examine more minutely the propositions made, and the benefits that have resulted from Mr. Hill's scheme of Post Office Reform. Mr. Hill's Pamphlet. In his preface to the second edition of his work on "Post Office Reform," Mr. Hill acknowledged the cordial reception his plan had met with, and reverted to an objection which had been made to it by an anonymous writer, who said that if the Penny Post system ever became established, the letters would increase in number so enormously that their distribution would be rendered impossible. " The objector," writes the author, " so far outruns my expectations as to convert that which I consider a matter of gratulation into a subject for apprehension ;" and "the Post Office must necessarily be considered in a defective state unless it is capable of distri- buting all the letters which the people of this country can have any motive for writing, at least in ordinary seasons, and under ordinary circumstances." Mr. Hill's first argument was that the revenue of the Post Office was rather dimi- nishing, whereas if it had kept pace with the increase of the population, it ought to have increased by ;^5o7,7oo per annum, but in reality the loss was even greater. This was attributed to the heavy tax on letters, and to the excessive charges for managing the department, while the actual cost of carrying the letters was very small compared with the charge for such conveyance. Mr. Hill argued that the reduction of postage or other taxation did not imply necessarily any loss of revenue, rather the contrary. He estimated clearly enough —indeed, very accurately, considering the difficulties he had to contend against — * This tale seems very doubtful, but we accept it as related ; extensive forgery must have been practised. the number of letters in the year, and the cost of their transmission. By close calcu- lation he found that the sum paid per letter averaged 6\d. The expenses of the manage- ment of the department were then measured, and found to be about one-half of the revenue, the actual cost being ;^696, 569. He proved that if the revenue of the Post Office had increased in proportion as the Stage Coach Duties, that the actual gain would have been ;i^2 ,000,000, instead of ^500,000. Accepting the cost of transit as inevitable, and taking the number of letters and news- papers to be 126,000,000, the average apparent cost of the primary distribution of newspapers, letters, etc., within the United Kingdom is for each Tinrth of a penny, of which the ex- pense of transit is one-third, or innrth of a penny ; and the cost of receipt, delivery, etc., two-thirds, or rinrth of a penny. Mr. Hill proved that the actual cost of transit incurred upon a letter sent from London to Edinburgh (400 miles), was not more than -^th part of a penny ; and therefore, if the proper charge (exclusive of tax) for a letter in London itself were twopence, then the proper charge (ex- clusive of tax) upon a letter received in London, but delivered in Edinburgh, would be twopence plus i^th. part of a penny. The additional charge of the ^\th of a penny would amply repay the cost of transit. " If, there- fore," said this practical reformer, "the charge for postage be made proportionate to the whole expense incurred in the receipt, transit, and delivery of the letter, and in the collection of its postage, it must be made uniformly the same from every post town to every other post town in the United Kingdom, unless it can be shown how we are to collect so small a sum as i^^th part of a penny." Mr. Hill contended that the charge ought to be the same for every packet of moderate weight, without reference to the number of its enclosures. This statement, and Mr. Hill's views gene- rally, were supported by Mr. Ashurst, who showed how the mail to Edinburgh cost for each journey, with its newspapers, letters, and " franks," ^5. The letters only paid, while the "franks" and papers, weighing y?/?^78 FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY. Watts, a leading servant of the East India Company, on whom had devolved the dan- gerous and unpleasant task of negociating with the despot, and who therefore knew the Nabob's character thoroughly, was the chief agent in the matter on behalf of the English; and the co-operation of Clive and Admiral Watson was likewise heartily given. It was proposed to set up Meer Jaffier, the com- mander-in-chief of Suraj-ud-Dowlah's army, as the successor of that worthless ruler ; and the negociations and arrangements were carried on with great energy and with equal secrecy; for if Suraj-ud-Dowlah had sus- pected what was going on, the lives of the native conspirators and of their English allies, which were at his mercy, would probably have been sacrificed in the first outburst of his fury and alarm. "Diamond cut Diamond "- Device. -Clive's This danger was appreciated, and cun- ningly turned to his own advantage, by a man whose name has been ominously linked with that of Clive by the transactions which ensued — the rich Bengalee, Omichund. This cun- ning and unscrupulous man had been em- ployed in the secret negociations carried on between the English and the leading natives, — ^Roy Dullub, the minister of finance, the great banker Jugget Seyt, and others, — for the deposition of Suraj-ud-Dowlah ; and when everything was progressing favourably, he suddenly astounded the conspirators by making a demand for three hundred thousand pounds, in addition to the sum he was to receive as compensation for the losses he had incurred by the taking of Calcutta, as the price of his silence ; threatening in case of refusal to reveal the whole plot to the Nabob. In the perplexity occasioned in the council by this astonishing demand, which the wily Bengalee well knew he could enforce by the advantages he derived from his power to ruin the conspiracy and its promoters, Clive came forward with a piece of advice equally astound- ing. It was simply to fight Omichund with his own weapons of fraud ; to promise him whatever he required, and thus to secure his silence ; and when the danger should have passed, to repudiate his claim altogether, and give him neither compensation for his losses nor the reward for his silence. As Omichund had insisted that his claims should be em- bodied in the treaty to be drawn up and signed by the chiefs of the council, and by which their proceedings would be regulated, Clive thereupon caused two treaties to be drawn up, one on red paper, the other on white, and only on the former of these was the clause inserted concerning the sum to be paid to Omichund. The device resembled the nefarious expedient by which, in 1634, the chiefs of Wallenstein's army were cheated by a substituted document into giving their written promise of support to that daring adventurer. But Clive's device was even more unscrupulous than that of Terzky and lUo. Admiral Watson, who seems to have disapproved of this method of meeting fraud by fraud, declined to put his name to the red treaty; whereupon Clive forged the Admiral's signature. Mr. Mill, the historian of India, who looks upon Clive as a great, but a bad man, " to whom deception, when it suited his purpose, never cost a pang," naturally condemns this transaction in unqualified terms ; and with right, for it was not only a crime in itself, but proved a precedent for the deplorable system of admitting fraud and treachery as accredited weapons in dealing with the natives of India. " The name of Cassius honours this corruption, and chastisement does therefore hide his head." The great name of Clive, the con- queror of India, could subsequently be cited in defence of the deception by which the chiefs orf the Company— "predestinated criminals," as Burke indignantly calls them — drew down upon the Carnatic the terrible vengeance of Hyder Ali, the tiger of Mysore. Sir John Malcolm, whose life of Lord Clive is written throughout in an undeviating style of panegyric, considers that the treachery of Omichund fully justified reprisals in kind on the part of the English ; while Lord Macaulay, who differs from both the writers before mentioned in his estimate of Clive — to whom, however, on various occasions, he is more than lenient — condemns the transaction; though in a later part of his valuable essay on Clive, he lays down the somewhat singular proposition, that if on weighing the good and the bad deeds of a great public man, the good are found on the whole to preponderate, the verdict of history should be one, not only of acquittal, but of approval: a standard of judg- ment which would give a very wide range to an unscrupulous statesman or ruler. He accounts for Chve's proceedings on this occasion on the conventional principle which makes people measure their conduct to different sets of people by various standards ; just as it has been cited, in defenceof Charles I., that he never broke his word to a gentleman. "The truth seems to have been," says Ma- caulay, " that he considered oriental politics as a game at which nothing was unfair. Accordingly this man, in the other parts of his life an honourable English gentleman and a soldier, was no sooner matched against an Indian intriguer, than he became himself an Indian intriguer, and descended without scruple to falsehood, to hypocritical caresses, to the substitution of documents, and to the counterfeiting of hands." 179 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. The War against the Nabob ; Clive IN Command. The danger that arose from Omichund's treachery once averted, it was comparatively easy to persuade Suraj-ud-Dowlah that the English desired to keep on good terms with him. Clive speaks of a " soothing letter " he wrote to the Nabob, while at the same time he was exhorting Meer Jaffier to be prepared to declare against his master, and to join the English with his troops. When all was pre- pared, he suddenly astonished the Nabob by a peremptory letter, setting forth the griev- ances of which the English had to complain ; and its whole tone was that of a declaration Audacity had always been, and continued to the last day of his life to be, a leading feature in Clive's character. His was the courage that " mounteth with occasion," and he set the example, gloriously followed by his successors in after days, of ceasing to count the number of the foe, where a great advant- age was to be won or a great peril to be averted. On this occasion even his fearless strength of mind was taxed to the utmost. The forces the Nabob could bring against him amounted to sixty thousand men ; his own army, if Meer Jaffier failed to join him, would not exceed three thousand, though a third part of them were English — including the men of the 39th regiment, the first regular The Captives in the "Black Hole." or at least a menace of war. As such Suraj- udDowlah regarded it, and accordingly replie by preparing for immediate strife. From Moorshedabad, the capital, he marched with his forces to Plassey, while Clive advanced to Cossimbuzar, a commercial settlement of the English. Until now all had gone well with the conspirators ; but a new and formidable danger appeared, and one that it required all Clive's firmness to en- counter. Meer Jaffier's heart failed him ; and when he was to have led over his division of the army to the English, he remained inactive, and could not be induced, either by persuasion or remonstrance, to take the decisive step. His indecision threatened to ruin everything. corps employed in fighting the battles of their country in India. A council of war— the only one, Clive used afterwards to declare, he ever summoned in his life — was called to decide the question whether they should give battle to the Nabob. For a time Clive acquiesced in the general opinion that the risk would be too great ; but afterwards, on thinking over the question alone when the council had broken up, he resolved to venture everything on a battle, and gave orders to advance ; for he had determined to encounter the Nabob next day. Lord Macaulay, indeed, considers that success or ruin was the only possible issue of his enterprise. " Before him lay a river," he says, " over which it was easy to advance, but 280 FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY. over which, if things went ill, not one of his little band woald ever return." This river was the Bhaghrutti, a branch of the Ganges. That defeat would have been most disastrous there is no doubt — but that Clive, one of the ablest of soldiers, fertile in resource, and noted for presence of mind in the hour of danger, would not have been able to save a man of his army, is difficult to believe. Certain it is, however, that the great leader never more fully justified the title the natives had bestowed on him, of Sabat Jung, " the daring in war," than when he made up his mind to risk the struggle from which dates the supremacy of the British nation in Bengal. The Battle OF Plassey, AND ITS Con- sequences. It was on the 23rd of June, 1757, that the famous battle of Plassey was fought. The vic- tory was com- plete, and the results of the highest import- ance ; but so far as the struggle itself is con- cerned, it cannot rank with such fields as Assaye orArgaum. The disproportion of forces was in- deed great ; but much of the Na- bob's army was a rabble, — his artillery was of the clumsiest kind, huge guns, tugged by long teams of oxen, with an elephant pushing behind each piece, — and worse than all there was disaffection and discouragement throughout the host. Meer Jaffier did not indeed lead his division against his master ; but he remained inactive, and drew off his men so soon as the fortune of the day was decided. This it did not take long to do. The Nabob was seized v/ith terror from an early period of the battle, when he found that the artillery of the English was doing exe- cution among his troops, being excellently served, while his own was effecting nothing. Confusion, arising as much from disaffection as from fear, quickly spread through the ranks of his wavering army ; and Clive was Monument on the Site of the Black Hole. not slow to see and to profit by the half- heartedness of his foes. Urged by some of his followers, whose counsel was doubtless dictated by treachery, to consult his personal safety, Suraj-ud-Dowlah himself set the ex- ample of retreat ; and his flight from the field was followed by the complete rout of his army. The English had the advantage from the first ; the fact that of the victors only twenty-two were killed and about fifty w^ounded, while only five hundred of the Nabob's army were slain, sufficiently proves that Plassey was rather a well planned than a hotly contested battle ; but the forces of Suraj-ud-Dowlah were as completely routed as the French army at Water- loo. If it was the purpose of the English to put a roi faineant on the throne of Bengal, they had certainly found what they wanted in Meer Jaffier. Never was a man more given to let " I dare not " wait upon " I would," — and his con- sciousness of having deserved ill at the hands of his allies was betrayed in the evident fear he evinced when he came to offer his apologies and congratula- tions to Clive on the following morning. But Clive affected to believe his ex- cuses, and reHeved his mind by showing that the programme was to be cbrried out, and that Meer Jaffier was to haVe his reward, though he had certainly not borne the burden and heat of the day. Meer Jaffier, in pursuance of Clive's advice, at once marched to Moorshedabad, to be there installed as Nabob of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar ; and the victor of Plassey, with a retinue of five hundred soldiers, arrived in the capital shortly afterwards. Thereupon Meer Jaffier was solemnly inducted into his new office, Clive taking the chief share in the ceremony, himself leading the new ruler to the throne prepared for him, and present- ing him with the offering of gold usually EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. brought forward on such occasions in the East. A few days later a less magnificent but not less important meeting of the actors in the late revolution was held ; for the terms of the treaty entered into between Meer Jaffier and his fellow-conspirators were now to be fulfilled. When the white treaty had been read, Clive — in whose behaviour to Omichund there had till now been nothing to make the treacherous Bengalee think he was out of favour — caused Omichund to be suddenly informed that a deception had been played upon him, that " the red treaty was a trick." The effect of the sudden overthrow of his confident expectations was such as to utterly unhinge the mmd of the man whose hopes were thus shattered at a blow. Omi- chund sank into a state of iinbecility, and died in a few months. Clive's Transactions with Meer Jaffier. And now we come to proceedings oa the part of the victor of Plassey which were made the theme first of public comment and afterwards of parliamentary investigation years later, and which, no less than his du- plicity and dissimulation towards Omichund and others, have left a dark spot on Clive's memory. After vengeance had been executed on Suraj-ud-Dowlah — that wretched man having fallen into the hands of Meer Jaffier was, in spite of his frantic tears and entrea- ties, put to death by the order of the savage Meeran, the son of the new Nabob — Meer Jaffier made it his next care to reward the man to whom he owed his elevation. The treasury of Moorshedabad, with all its gor- geous store of gold and jewels, was at his disposal, and he might take what he chose. " There were piled up," says Lord Macaulay, " after the usage of Indian princes, immense masses of coin, among which might not sel- dom be detected the florins and byzants with which, before any European ship had turned the Cape of Good Hope, the Venetians pur- chased the stuffs and spices of the East. Clive walked between heaps of gold and silver, crowned with rubies and diamonds." He certainly availed himself of the opportunity thus afforded him of acquiring sudden wealth. Between two and three hundred thousand pounds were given to him at once by Meer Jaffier, who at a later period likewise bestowed on him for life the rent the Company paid for the ground on which their factories at Calcutta stood ; and his fortune, measured by the standard of those times, may be considered as colossal, " His whole annual income," says Lord Mac- aulay, " in the opinion of Sir John Malcolm, who is desirous of stating it as low as pos- sible, exceeded forty thousand pounds ; and incomes of forty thousand pounds at the time of the accession of George III. were at least as rare as incomes of a hundred thousand pounds now." This remark was made by Lord Macaulay forty years ago; the disproportion between the average of incomes in 1 760 as compared with that of the present day would appear still greater. There is no doubt that Sir John Malcolm considerably understated the income of Clive, which must have been nearer fifty than forty thousand a year. The standard of public morality in those times was low, and many things were con- tinually done which would excite horror at the present day. What would be thought, for instance, of a minister who took a com- mission upon sums voted as subsidies to foreign powers 1 And yet William Pitt, the great com- moner, was looked upon as quixotic in his purity because he refused to accept " these ignominious vails." The Duke of Newcastle is described as receiving at his levee in his great house in Lincoln's Inn Fields direct applications for money on various pretences from his supporters in Parliament ; and, nearly thirty years later, royalty itself did not disdain to accept some valuable diamonds and " a richly-carved ivory bed" from Warren Hastings, while that great satrap had the gravest of accusations hanging over him ; and a satirical poet "described, with gay malevolence, the gorgeous appearance of Mrs. Hastings at St. James's, the galaxy of jewels, torn from Indian begums, which adorned her headdress, her necklace gleam- ing with future votes, and the depending questions that shone upon her ears." Pitt, indeed, kept proudly aloof from the work of bribery, corruption, and rapacity ; but, in general, opportunities of making money in every way short of direct embezzlement were seized without much scruple ; and this should be remembered in excuse of Clive's doings, though it cannot form a justification for them. "By God, Mr. Chairman!" was his exclamation when, many years afterwards, these transactions were investigated by a Par- liamentary committee — "at this moment T stand astonished at my own moderation ; " and certainly, had he so chosen, he might have taken twice or three times as much as he did from the treasury at Moorshedabad, and no man would have ventured to say him nay. Nevertheless, the conduct of Clive in this matter had an evil influence ; for every rapa- cious adventurer could point to his example as a kind of warrant for his own wrong-doing. By accepting a splendid fortune from Meer Jafifier, he was virtually acting as though he had been himself a potentate — and not a ser- vant of the State, simply using a force with whose command he was entrusted for the 282 FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY. benefit of that State, and not for himself The principle laid down, some years after- wards, by the Parliamentary committee above mentioned, that condemned the appropriation by a private person of the results of conquests made by the arms of the State, was a per- fectly sound one. Further Victories ; Rewards and Honours ; Return of Clive to England. "Some are born great," says the ambi- tious steward in Shakespeare's play ; " some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." Meer Jaffier appears to have belonged to the last of these classes. He had been put forward when the great revolution was planned, that snatched the rule of Bengal from the worthless hands of Suraj-ud-Dowlah ; but, as has been seen, he looked back alter putting his hand to the plough, and in his half-hearted way despaired of the success of the enterprise while every- thing was going well ; and now that he had been as it were pushed up into a great posi- tion, he showed himself destitute of the qualities necessary to maintain it. His constancy was soon put to the test by a threatening danger, and at once gave way under the trial. A son of the Great Mogul conceived the project of taking from Meer Jaffier by force of arms the great principalities of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar; declaring him to be a mere usurper, sustained in a wrongful possession by the arms of strangers. Shah Alum, the prince in question, accordingly got together a large army, consisting of Afghans, Mahrattas, and other warlike adventurers, and invaded Meer Jaffier's territories with the intention of conquering them for himself; and other neighbouring princes were watch- ing the enterprise with a view of claiming a share of the spoil. Meer Jaffier was for treating the invaders as Ethelred the Un- ready treated the Danes, when he bribed them to leave him in peace ; but Clive, with excel- lent judgment, foresaw the effect of such a measure, and strenuously counselled the Nabob against it. His words, as quoted by Loi'd Macaulay, are full of strong good sense. " If you do this," he wrote to Meer Jaffier, " you will have the Nabob of Oude, the Mahrattas, and many more, come from all parts of the confines of your country, who will bully you out of money till you have none left in your treasury. I beg your Ex- cellency will rely on the fidelity of the English and of those troops who are attached to you." Here he had struck the right note. The scrupulous carrying out of engagements once undertaken, the exact fulfilment of every pledge and promise given, was the surest foundation upon which to erect the fabric of British power in India. Had he always remembered this, such a stain as that left by the "red treaty" would never have darkened his fame. With regard to Meer Jaffier, he thoroughly redeemed his pledge, taking the field with such vigour against the troops of Shah Alum that the formidable invasion melted away in a short time ; to the delight of the weak Nabob, whose satisfaction at the discomfiture of his enemies seems, however, to have been lessened by the sense of his own entire de- pendence upon the English for maintenance in his authority. The French also began to stir in the Carnatic, and made an attempt to regain something of their old ascendency there. Clive despatched an expedition against them under Forde, an officer who justified his choice by such brilliant and rapid suc- cesses as entirely annulled any hope of a revival of the French influence of the days of Dupleix. Another and a more formidable attempt was made by the Dutch, whose colonial policy during the last century, though they were a minor power, was much more practi- cal than that of the French, who combined neglect of their interests abroad with mis- government at home. Roused to action by the growing power of the English, and un- easy for their own interests in Bengal, where they held Chinsurah, the colonial government at Java despatched a formidable armament of seven large vessels to the Hoogley as an expedition against the English ; and in this proceeding they were secretly encouraged by the countenance of Meer Jaffier himself, who was not disinclined to play off the Dutch power as a counterpoise to the para- mount influence of the mighty nation who had set him up, and might one day, as with sufficiently correct judgment he foresaw, pull him down. True to his usual policy, Clive at once took the Dutch bull by the horns. He promptly attacked the armament, before it could get to Chinsurah, completely routed it, and then besieged Chinsurah itself Dis- mayed at the utter failure of their enterprise, the Dutch thought it best to capitulate ; and obtained peace only on such terms as entirely put an end to their existence as anything more than a trading corporation in Bengal. Clive's name was now known and honoured throughout the British empire ; and his great victories were looked on as having added one of the brightest pages to the glories that rendered illustrious the administration of William Pitt, and the closing years of the reign of George II. The Great Commoner himself had the highest opinion of the mili- tary genius of Clive, who was looked upon as the natural successor of the hero of Quebec in tlie respect and regard of the nation. Accordingly, when Clive returned to England 283 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. he was raised to the peerage of Ireland, by the title of Baron of Plassey, and was received with the highest distinction. He entered Parliament ; and his enormous wealth, in those days of the purchase of pocket boroughs, as well as his position with regard to the East India Company, gave him great in- fluence, and rendered the rival parties, then tolerably equally balanced, anxious to cul- tivate his goodwill. He was in the very zenith of his prosperity. The Company's Rule in India ; Griev- ances AND Calamities. "A trading and a fighting company is a two-headed monster in nature that cannot exist long ; as the expence and experience of the latter must exceed, confound, and which we might have held fast, if bounds had been set to our progress, which upon the ' present system ' we now see is utterly impossible, therefore a total change in our politics becomes indispensably necessary." Holwell's strictures were fully warranted by the abuses that prevailed in India in the period after Clive's second return to Europe. The enormous wealth of the conqueror of Plassey, and of several others, such as Pigot, who had become suddenly enriched by their connection with that country, produced an unhealthy excitement, which has been justly compared to that which prevailed during the time of the South Sea Bubble. The one great idea of the servants and agents of the Company was to make speedy fortunes. The court of the Company itself, in which The Taj Mahal, Agra. destroy every profit or advantage gained by the former." Thus writes the judicious Holwell, at the period immediately after Clive's great victories and return to England ; and the occasion of his remarks was the mismanagement of which the Company was guilty, when it undertook the government of the territories it had conquered ; which territories, moreover, it sought to enlarge as opportunity offered. " New temporary vic- tories," continues Holwell, " stimulate and push us on to grasp at new acquisitions of territory ; these call for a large increase of mihtary force to defend them ; and thus we shall go on, grasping and expending, until we cram our hands too full, and they become cramped and numbed ; and we shall be obliged to quit and relinquish even that part every proprietor of stock to the amount of ^500 had a vote at the general meetings, was ill-informed and inefficient as a govern- ment. Very exaggerated ideas prevailed as to the wealth and resources of India ; and thus was developed the nefarious system of extortion and wrong which attained its cul- minating point at a later period, in the high crimes and misdemeanours of Hastings, the first governor-general, that aroused the generous indignation of Edmund Burke. In a military point of view the English com- pletely held their own, even extending their dominions, under captains like Sir Eyre Coote, the victor of Pollilore, worthy suc- cessors of Clive. Resistance to the authority of the English seemed hopeless, and the warlike prowess of the nation was more FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY. widely acknowledged in India, and more thoroughly dreaded than ever ; but the administration of affairs was deplorable, and the peoples of India groaned under the harsh rule of tyrants whose yoke, un- like that of their native oppressors, it was impossible to shake off. One of the great sources of wrong was attributable to the short-sighted policy by which the servants of the Company, from the high officials and functionaries to the junior and subordinate members, were systemati- cally underpaid, and allowed to recoup them- selves by irregular gains and extortions, at which the Company connived, but by which it was in the end the loser. The counsel of Sir Thomas Roe, quoted by Macaulay, shows that so early as the reign of James I. this abuse had already excited attention. " Ab- solutely prohibit the private trade," wrote Sir Thomas, " for your business will be better done. I know this is harsh : men profess they come not for bare wages. But you will take away this plea if you give great wages to their content ; and then you know what you part from." The private trade, however, not only continued, but increased until it became a nuisance and a scandal ; for abuses of various kinds were introduced into it. According to the Company's treaties with Meer Jaffier and others, goods under the Company's Hag were exempted from paying duties ; but it was expressly stipulated that this privilege should not apply to merchan- dise in which the Company's servants dealt on their own account, which was not to be considered as protected by the Company's flag. But the latter, who increased greatly in number when India became known as the country where fortunes were to be accumu- lated with unexampled rapidity, were not scrupulous in regarding the articles of the treaty ; and as the factories increased in number, they employed a number of agents, natives and foreigners, who were even less scrupulous than themselves, and acted in direct defiance of the local custom-houses and of the laws of the country they pillaged. " They forced the natives to buy dear and to sell cheap," and plundered in every direction, to get together in the shortest possible time the means of returning to England, purchasing estates and setting up as private gentlemen in rivalry to the old county families, who looked upon them with covert or open dislike and contempt. Gold- smith, in his " Deserted Village,'' speaks of " The wealth of climes where savage nations roam, pillaged from slaves to purchase slaves at home ; '' and the proceedings of these newly enriched Indian officials, who were nicknamed nabobs, and who are described as " raising the price of everything in their neighbourhoods — from fresh eggs to rotten boroughs," made them unpopular in propor- tion as they were envied. It was not likely men would do much to benefit a country regarding which their chief aim was to get as much out of it as quickly as they could, and then to quit it for ever. "Ringing the Changes on Soubahs." When the arrangement was first made, by which Meer Jaffier was to become ruler of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar, large promises had been exacted from him, with regard to the sums he would pay in return for his elevation. These promises he had en- deavoured to redeem; and, as has been seen, he behaved to Clive especially, whom he looked upon as the chief and main cause of his success, with princely liberality ; while the merchants and agents of the Company were compensated largely for the losses they had sustained through the proceedings of the late nabob, and the services of the ministers of the council who had managed the late insurrection, and of all who had furthered its completion, were considered in the most liberal manner. But the new ruler had been unable to fulfil all his engage- ments ; the treasury at Moorshedabad was not rich enough to answer all the demands made upon it, and Meer Jaffier had been obliged to pay partly in cash and partly in promises. The wars, too, in which he had been en- gaged since his accession, against Shah Alum and others who disputed his authority, had greatly increased his embarrassments ; for in these wars he had been compelled to invoke, and to pay heavily for the assistance of the English. His affairs had thus become seriously embarrassed ; and in proportion as his ability to pay grew less, the dissatisfac- tion of those increased who had set him up with the expectation that he would prove to them a perennial fountain of wealth. So long as the controlling hand of Clive re- mained present, to regulate, restrain, and punish, some sort of moderation and justice was preserved ; but when that valiant and astute commander had departed for England, with the enormous fortune he had so rapidly acquired, all semblance of scruple was cast aside, and the rapacity of those who were in reality the masters of the Nabob knew no bounds. As with ancient Pistol, " the word was pitch and pay." Meer Jaffier was extremely discomposed and uneasy at his situation ; and his creditors showed him little consideration. Not an ounce of their pound of flesh would they ^ abate ; and when it became evident that Meer Jaffier's ability to meet their demands was exhausted, they determined to depose him as they had deposed his predecessor ; and they set about the work without delay. 285 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Their method of proceeding was similar to that employed on the former occasion. When Clive dropped the mask he had so long worn with regard to Suraj-ud-Dowlah, and had determined to pull down that hard and wretched prince, he had pro- posed to the Nabob to refer the disputes between him and the Company to the arbitra- tion of Meer Jaffier, whom he had secretly arranged to set up in the Nabob's place. In like manner Mr. Vansittart, to whom the chief authority descended on Clive's depar- ture, arranged with his colleagues to find a successor for Meer Jaffier. They fixed upon Meer Cossim, the son-in-law of the Nabob, with whom they entered into negociations ; and who, dazzled with the prospect of the great title and position held out to him, was as liberal as could be desired in promises of reward for their assistance. Thereupon, after filling Meer Jaffier's palace with their troops, they declared to him that it would be necessary to put his affairs into the hands of Meer Cossim, with a view to the liquida- tion of his debts ; but Meer Jaffier refused the insidious demand, with more spirit than was to be expected from him. If the Com- pany chose to take from him all his authority, he declared they might take away the title of king with it, and he would live as a private man in Calcutta. They took him at his word ; they chose to look upon the out- spoken declaration as a resignation of his power, which they hastily accepted. Meer Jaffier, the roi faineant, ceased for a time to bear even nominal sway ; and his son-in-law, Meer Cossim, reigned in his stead. In the case of Suraj-ud-Dowlah there had been valid reasons (or the deposition of the Nabob, in the well-known hatred and malice he bore towards the English, in his fre- quently expressed intention to drive them out of India, and evident hollowness of the treaty hastily patched up with them after their signal revenge for the massacre of the Black Hole. They might with justice allege that with such a man there was no possi- bility of permanent peace, and that the removal of Suraj-ud-Dowlah was necessary for the safety of the Company, though nothing can excuse the treachery of Clive and his confederates on that occasion. But with regard to Meer Jaffier no such defence could be made, for he was their creature, utterly dependent upon them ; and from him they had no danger to fear. " The dethronement of Meer Jaffier," says a writer who has briefly recorded these events, " was effected with only one view — namely, that the parties bringing it about might pocket the sums which Meer Cossim promised as the reward of their interference." Thus the " ringing of changes on Soubahs " was con- tinued. Meer Cossim and his Successors; the Company's Further Proceedings, In Meer Cossim the Company had to deal with a man very different in character from his weak predecessor. He was by no means content to be a m.ere puppet in the hands of the men who had set him up. He was highly indignant when he found that while the Com- pany exacted large sums and great immunities from him, in return for his elevation to the throne of Bengal, its agents, claiming freedom from transit and other duties for their private ventures under the Company's flag, entered into a trade competition against his heavily- taxed subjects; in which the latter had no chance, and were being ruined to enrich strangers, while he himself was the greatest sufferer, in his revenue, by this system of plunder. Accordingly he protested and remonstrated in the strongest terms with the authorities at Calcutta, who turned a deaf ear to his com- plaints ; for the Company's servants were all interested, from the greatest to the least, in the maintenance of the system he denounced, upon which their profits and their fortunes depended. They were confirmed in their contemptuous indifference to remonstrance by the fact that they were undoubtedly the stronger party. The British soldiers and the Sepoys in the Company's service everywhere maintained their supremacy against any force a native ruler could bring against them ; and no European nation could now hold its own as their rivals in India. As Dupleix had failed in his efforts to maintain himself, so did Lally Tollendal fail, even more igno- miniously ; and Bussy, the last hope of the French nation, was at length captured. They maintained by the sword, with undaunted valour and resolution, what they had gained by the sword — confident that the Court of Directors in Leadenhall Street, a-nd still more the Court of Proprietors, which could have its way where it chose, as every share of;^5oo conferred a vote, would judge them by success alone — a success to be measured by the amount of the dividends paid. And the military nature of their supremacy served to increase the confusion and disorder ; for the army, fully conscious of its paramount im- portance, insisted on sharing to an unex- ampled degree in the spoils of war, and fre- quent mutinies occurred where the donatives were considered insufficient. The state of things was well described by Holwell in his "Seasonable Hint and Perswasive to the Court of Directors," in which he insists on the necessity of change. Fortunately for the maintenance of the British power and the re-establishment of British credit in India, this change was at a later period effected; but not until the FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY. country had experienced some of the worst effects of misrule. Finding his remonstrances utterly un- heeded, Meer Cossim took the extreme mea- sure of repealing the transit duties altogether, to put his subjects on an equal footing with the strangers ; thus drawing upon himself the enmity of the authorities in Bengal, and armed resistance from Mr. Ellis, the Com- pany's agent at Patna. A war was quickly Idndled, in which the English had their usual success. No native army could stand against them, and Meer Cossim quickly found his empire melting away. He was driven from one position to another. The Nabob Vizier shaking the dust off his feet and betaking himself to the dominions of his ally, the Nabob of Oude, for refuge ; and the Com- pany once more ruled supreme in the name of Meer Jaffier, the nominee. That feeble prince did not long survive his second elevation ; he died soon afterwards. His savage and cruel son Meeran was already dead ; but an illegitimate son, utterly weak and imbecile, of the deceased Nabob, was set upon the vacant throne; and the extortion and oppression of the foreign rulers went on with a- wider range than ever, and more en- tirely without let orhindrance. The directors at home became seriously alarmed; for while Festival at Benares ; Washing in the Holy River Ganges. of Oude took his part ; whereupon the Com- pany declared war against that potentate also, and even against the Mogul himself Meer Jaffier was now living, according to his declared intention, as a private person. The Company made proposals to him as difficult, or rather as impossible of fulfilment, as the former conditions. He acquiesced in everything, promised to do all his patrons demanded, and was once more set up on the throne of Bengal. Meer Cossim had in his power about one hundred and thirty prisoners at Patna, including Mr. Ellis, who was greatly responsible for the commencement of the war. After fighting till all was lost, the fierce native perpetrated the terrible massacre of Patna, putting to death all his captives before their agents were enriching themselves by this irresponsible tyranny, the interests of the Company were suffering seriously, and the dividends fell off Pressing injunctions and commands sent out from England were dis- regarded ; and in those days, long before the time of the telegraph, or even of the overland route — when the time for sending a despatch to India and receiving an answer sometimes extended to a year and a half — it was impos- sible to govern the East Indian possessions by orders received from home. At length general attention in England was called to the state of affairs in India; and the Company saw that if a remedy were not applied by their own council, the British Government would take that duty upon itself, — and consequently 287 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. determined to send out Lord Clive, with full powers to put an end to the abuses that threatened the very existence of the British rule in India. How Clive applied the Remedy ; The Result. It was on the 23rd of May, 1765, that Lord Clive landed in Calcutta on his third and last journey to India. He came with the fixed determination, as he himself expressed it in a letter to a friend, to restore the lost honour and credit of the British name in India, to put a stop to the great and increasing evils existing there, or to perish in the attempt ; and he carried out his intentions to the fullest extent during the eighteen eventful months of his residence in Calcutta. His difficulties began immediately on his arrival. In the council he appeared " like an eagle in a dovecote, fluttering the Volscians." When he explained the scope and extent of the thorough reforms he contemplated, — reforms that would arrest, in their very source, the irregular and excessive gains of the Company's servants and agents, — the mem- bers at the board sat aghast ; and " all the faces grew long and pale" when he put down, with a few haughty and vigorous words, the attempted remonstrance of the one member who dared to protest. After putting an end to the foolish war with the Nabob of Oude, with whom he entered into alliance, he carried out the policy advocated by Holwell and other en- lightened Indian statesmen. " Let us be our own Soubah," wrote Holwell ; and this is what Clive effected. He obtained from the Great Mogul, in return for a pension secured to that weak potentate, the nomination of the Company to the office of Duan, or finance ministers of Bengal. They procured the right of collecting the revenues of the three pro- vinces — Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar — together with the monopolies of salt, betel, etc. ; and thus their authority as the acknowledged masters of Northern India received the sanction of the highest native authority — the imperial throne at Delhi. Any attempt to evade the transit duties on merchandise now became a fraud on the Company itself, for which all offenders in the service were to be visited with instant dismissal ; and thus the " private trade," the fruitful source of many abuses, was put down. In the army, also, the power of the stern inflexible Governor was soon felt. The officers were soon made aware that they must consider themselves the servants of the State, and must be ready to march at the first summons, and implicitly to obey any orders given to them ; moreover, the acceptance of presents from native princes was rigidly prohibited. All such gifts were to be handed over at once to the treasury of the Government. These innovations pro- duced a profound impression in a mutinous army, fully av/are of its importance, and accustomed to have its own way. The officers murmured loudly, and presently proceeded to organise what may be termed a military " strike." A large number resigned their commissions on the same day, feeling con- vinced that Clive would make any concessions rather than leave the army without leaders. But he put down the movement with a stern hand. The ringleaders in the mutiny were cashiered. The others were allowed to return to their duty after earnestly professing their regret. Clive had sent for officers from Madras, and had taken other steps to show that he was master of the situation, and that no man was indispensable to him. At the same time he found a remedy for the grievance which had been a frequent cause of extortion and misrule. The salaries of the Company's servants were rearranged on a scale sufficiently liberal to allow of the officials living up to their position, and yet in time accumulating fortunes. The revenue derived from the tax on salt was devoted to the payment of salaries. The result of these reforms was the removal, at least for a time, of the reproach of rapine and extortion that defaces the pages of the chronicle of British conquest and supremacy in India ; and just principles of rule took the place of the previous misgovernment. When Clive sailed for England for the third time, the conqueror of Plassey had gained a far harder victory than that over Suraj-ud-Dowlah ; but he had also raised up many implacable enemies, who accused him of having marred their fortunes after he had made his own, and persistently pointed out the incongruity between Clive's earlier accep- tance of presents by himself, and his later denouncing of their receipt by others. And this consciousness it was that preyed upon his mind amid all his wealth and prosperity, and combined with other causes to produce such exquisite misery that existence became unendurable to him, and the victor of Plassey in his fiftieth year put an end to his own life. H. W. D 288 Death of ToMPFy (see /a^e 301). C^SARISM IN ROME: THE STORY OF THE FALL OF THE REPUBLIC. A Roman Holiday — The Ides of March — Regai Rome — Republican Rome — The Commencement of a Memorable Epoch The Oppressions of the Aristocracy — Cato the Censor — Tiberius Gracchus and his Law for the Amelioration of the Condition of the People — Caius Gracchus — The Story of Jugurtha — Marius, Sulla, and the Social War — The Mithridatic War and the First Civil War — The Roman Reign of Terror — Julius Csesar — The Second Civil War — The Catiline Conspiracy — The Greatest Crisis in the History of Rome — The First Triumvirate — The Contest between Caesar and Pompey — Cassar crosses the Rubicon — The Beginning of the End — Caesar's Laws and Policy — The Second Triumvirate — Proscriptions and Assassinations — Augustus Emperor — Influence of Ceesarism on the World. A Roman Holiday. |T is a day of high festival in ancient Rome, and crowds of her noblest citizens, clad in their gayest-coloured togas, throng her classic streets. They pass the bridge so grandly kept by stout Horatius in the brave days of old ; they cross the Forum, where once the blood of poor Virginia cried aloud for vengeance on the '' Wicked Ten " ; they gaze anew, with feelings of swelling pride, at their famous Capitol, and then with a burst of acclamation they hasten to the Lupercal, on the Palatine Hill, where, in a chair of gold, which gleams like a meteor in the brilliant sunshine of the southern sky, they behold great Caesar him- self, clad in a triumphal robe, presiding over the mystic ceremonies of the day. A smile of triumph passes over his stern face as he acknowledges their warm welcome, yet even, then he hears a soothsayer cry, " Beware the ides of March ; Cassar, beware the ides, of March." Caesar angrily bids him be-- gone, and again the people shout aloud, and. the priests advance and the ceremonies, begin. For it is the feast of the Lupercalia,, when those ancient rites are celebrated, which tradition says have been handed down from the times of Romulus himself — those: EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. ancient rites which propitiate the great god Lupercus, and cause him to give a fruitful year. The solemn priests — the Luperci — offer up the wonted sacrifices, and then cut the skins of the slaughtered animals into strips and twist them into thongs, with much ceremony. Some they hand to the magistrates, and re- taining others themselves they then run through the city, striking on the hand all those who wish the god to bless them. But what is this? — Mark Antony, the consul, who, according to custom, should run with the rest, approaches Csesar, and before all the people offers him a diadem wreathed with laurel. The astounded populace look on in sullen silence. They well know the meaning of that strange sight. It means that Ccesar wishes to be king, and has caused Antony to offer him the crown. The politic Csesar, well understanding their silence, refuses the proffered jewel, whereupon the people greet him with their accustomed plaudits. Now, they know not what to think. Perhaps, after all, Caesar is loyal to the Republic. Again the officious Antony offers the diadem, and again there is deep silence. Again does Cassar refuse. Once more is the farce repeated, and then the Dictator orders the diadem to be consecrated in the Capitol, and the people turn away. After the Feast. But that night there were some men who cared for their country who slept with troubled rest. True they had seen " how on the Lupercal " Cassar had thrice refused the kingly crown, but what a pass had things come to in Rome when the consul dared to offer a diadem to one of her citizens ! "No more kings in Rome " had been the people's cry ever since false Tarquin had been driven hence. Their feelings of unrest were not quieted when during the next few days Caesar's statues were found adorned with diadems, but then Flavins and Marcellus, two stout tribunes, tore off the crowns, and committed to prison some of those unwise persons who had saluted Caesar as king, so the people followed them with cheerful acclamations. Then Caesar, highly indignant at their be- haviour, deposed the tribunes, and so the war went on, and there were several who whispered as the Dictator passed by, " Beware the ides of March." Did not the soothsayer at the feast say " Beware the ides of March"? The Ides of March. One month after the feast of the Luper- calia(which was held on the 15th of February), Csesar started from his home for the senate house. He was lighthearted and gay — not- withstanding that Calphurnia, his wife, had had troubled dreams and presages of evil, and had implored him not to go out to-day, — for had not a certain soothsayer been warning him for some time past of a terrible evil that should befall him on the 15th ? — the ides of March, — and now the day had come, but no ill had befallen him. And as he made his way to the senate, he called the false prophet and spoke laughingly to him. " The ides of March are come, but no harm has befallen me " ; to which the soothsayer softly said, " Yes, the ides of March are come, but not goner This was the day that the majority of the senators were to meet at Csesar's summons prepared to offer him the crown and honour him by the title of king. The great object for which he had been working all his life was now near completion ! When he entered the house the assembled senate rose to do him honour. Then the accomplices of Brutus — the descendant of that Brutus who long time since had been foremost in expelling the evil Tarquin, the last king of Rome — crowded round him asking for the recall of his brother. Caesar refused, and as their importunities grew they clustered round him, and finally at a sign from one of their number, Cimber, drew their swords and struck at him ; and pierced by three-and-twenty wounds great Caesar fell. They murdered him because he aimed at despotic power and the destruction of the Republic, but though he died the system he created lived. Not even the desperate deed of his murder could save the moribund State. The Republic had fallen, and though a triumvirate was established, which for a short time endeavoured to rule Rome, Csesar's nephew, Augustus, very quickly succeeded to the place and power of the murdered dictator, and Ceesarism was fully established. How it came to pass that these momentous events transpired, we have now to tell. Regal Rome. In order to understand the introduction and triumph of Caesarism it will be necessary to give a slight historical sketch of Roman institutions from the foundation of the city. Rome, which was established by Romulus 753 years before Christ, was for 243 years ruled by kings, whose power, however, was tempered by the senate. This body was instituted by Romulus, and consisted origi- nally of a hundred of the most experienced of the citizens, who from their age were known as "The Fathers," and from their office, "The Senators." This senate became, says Mommsen, the most powerful governing board the world has ever seen. Romulus also divided the peaple into two classes, the Patricians, or nobles, and the Plebeians, or common people. This distinction remained 290 C^SARISM IN ROME. for many centuries, and was the cause of much internal discord. It came to pass, hawever, that certain iings grossly abused their position and their power. The oppressions and cruelties of Tarquinius Superbus, the seventh and last Idng, at length became insupportable, and all sections of the state anxiously looked for some revolution which should overturn the king, who disregarded both liberty and law. The revolution came. While Tarquinius Superbus was besieging the city of Ardea, Sextus Tarquinius, his son, grossly insulted Lucretia, the wife of a Roman noble, Colla- tinus. She summoned her husband and father, and in their presence stabbed herself, after commanding them to revenge her death and disgrace upon the house of Tarquin. Lucius Junius Brutus, whose father and brother had been slaughtered by Tarquin, 'ivho had himself escaped only by feigning idiotcy, was present at this sad scene, and plucking the fatal weapon from the wound, he swore to exterminate the Tarquins, and prevent them or any others from ever reign- ing in Rome. This example was followed by all present, and under his leadership the people rose, expelled the Tarquins, and es- tablished the aristocratical commonwealth, known as the Roman Republic. Republican Rome. At first the Republic appears to have dif- fered but slightly from the Monarchy. The senate and the various other departments of government continued, but instead of the kings, two magistrates, called consuls, were chosen annually from among the patricians. The consuls were invested with great powers. They commanded the armies, and had the power of assembling or dissolving the senate. They wore robes fringed with purple, and were preceded by twelve men called lictors, bearing bundles of rods bound together with an axe in the middle, known diS fasces. When presiding at assemblies of the people they sat in ivory chairs, — called the curule chairs, — and carried ivory rods in their hands. In those days the Romans were accustomed to designate their years by the annual office of their consul. The first consuls were Lucius Junius Brutus and Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia. The progress of the Republicwas grievously hindered by internal discord. The govern- ment was vested in an irresponsible clique of nobles, from whom the consuls and the senate were elected, and under whom the plebeians were cruelly and bitterly oppressed. For fully a hundred years did the struggle continue, until at last it ended by the removal of the political and social disabilities under which the plebeians had suffered, and the passing of a law by which they were declared to be on a level with the patricians. Consuls were elected from their ranks, and for the first time marriages between all classes were considered legal and binding. The Roman Republic had now approached perfection. It was no longer an irresponsible oligarchy, but out of an exclusive aristocracy and an oppressed serfdom had grown a moderate democracy in which all had equal rights. Each class exerted its influence and counterbalanced the other. It was this con- stitution which lasted so many years, and enabled Rome to prosecute successfully the terrible Punic and Macedonian wars, and to make herself the Mistress of the World. We have now to see how this magnificent Republic fell. The Commencement of a Memorable Epoch. The Roman historian, Sallust, regards the destruction of Carthage as the commence- ment of that memorable epoch, which ended in the ruin of the Republic. With the enormous extension of power which this fatal success opened up, the national character suffered a fatal deteriora- tion. Coupled with this, also, was the growth of a new aristocracy, more wealthy and more unscrupulous than that against which the plebeians had struggled during the earlyyears of the Republic. The traditions of free self-government which had enabled their fathers to mould such a mighty state were forgotten ; men looked only to their own selfish interests and self-aggrandizement; the aristocrats bound down the commons with bands of iron rule, and secured for themselves the honours and emoluments which accrued from great national dominion and great national expen- diture. The stern integrity of life, the frugality, the temperance and rectitude which in former days marked the Roman citizen, began to disappear, and the love of luxury and vice became prominent. The old Roman " virtue " was undermined. Still further, the long wars had turned good citizens into useless soldiers, — useless for everything but fighting, — and thousands re- turned home without employment to spend in idle sensuality their ill-gotten gains. After the licentiousness of their camp life and the base delights ofpillage and rapine, it was impossible to settle down to hard toil. Hence arose that hon'ible slave system, — the most terrible curse of ancient Rome, — the curse that finally aided to bring about the downfall of its greatness. Conquered people were made to till the soil for their masters. At least 50,000 captives were sent home from Carthage, while 1 50,000 Epirotes were sold after the conquest of Epirus. The rule seems to have been that 291 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. when a captive taken in war was preserved instead of being slain, — hence the name serviis, — he could be made to work for his captor's benefit. There was little or no restriction on the master's power of punishing his slave or even of putting him to death, and the horrible atrocities perpetrated on the miserable victims of the slave system of republican Rome are far beyond description. Mommsen says that " compared with the sufferings of the Roman slaves, the sum of all negro suffering is but a drop." . But the blood and tears of the poor slaves called down terrible evils upon the Republic, and oppression and cruelty brought their ter- rible retribution, as they always will. In the year 134 B.C. the Roman world was suddenly thrilled with the news of a horrible social outbreak in Sicily. The fury of the revolt for a time made all opposition useless ; the slaves overran the island like demons let loose, and oneafteranother the Roman forces sent to quell the insurrections were cut to pieces. But the slaves were without organiza- tion, and when they had somewhat slaked their thirst for revenge, their paroxysms of ferocity were over, their power had spent itself, and two years later the consul, Publius Rupilius, was able to announce that he had restored " order." CoxTiNUED Oppressions. After this outbreak, the " new nobles " con- tinued to oppress the people — both slaves and freemen — even more than before. They regarded intellect, virtue, and manners as nothing ; wealth, power, and material pro- sperity were everything. They cared for nothing but to add farm to farm, and many a poor burgess went to the wall in the un- equal struggle. The riches of the rich in- creased, as likewise did the poverty of the poor. The political power gradually passed more and more into the hands of this wealthy aristocracy, until there came about the most unhappy state of things that can befall any state — a corrupt and wealthy governing class, a selfish, unscrupulous, and arrogant aristo- cracy, and a poverty-stricken lower class, who, struggle as they may, can find no means of improving their position. The pride, wealth, influence, and cruelty of this new order were a thousand times worse than the haughty arrogance of the old patricians ; while, added to their nepotism and selfishness was their gross immorality, and last, but not least, their never-ceasing quarrels among them- selves for place and power. The former oli- garchy ended in the establishment of a free Republic ; the latter ended in the fall of all free institutions, and the establishment of Cassarism — government by brute force. Cato, the Censor. The degeneracy of the age did not pass without rebuke. Doubtless there were many wise Romans who saw the inevitable end to which these national evils would lead, but among them Cato, the censor, stands out prominently. With remarkable sternness he pointed out the demoralized state of the people, and as far as in him lay, endeavoured to stem the tide of iniquity which iiooded' the streets of the cit)^ But while Rome chose to pursue apolicy of fierce and unscru- pulous conquest, and to hold foreign nations in subjection by the brute force of an immoral soldiery-^while the nation chose to exalt this gross materialism as its rule of life, it was impossible to expect or cause the people to adopt simple, temperate, and virtuous habits. Tiberius Gracchus, and his Law for THE Amelioration of the Condition OF THE People. Desperate — one might almost say revolu- tionary — attempts to prevent the social ruini of the state were made by Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, two brothers, sons of the celebrated Cornelia, daughter of Scipio, who had de- stroyed Carthage. They were of distinguished eloquence and great accomplishments. Tiberius Gracchus, a tribune of the people^ seeing the misery of the poor, and of the subject inhabitants of the provinces, and seeing also the overbearing wealth of the rich (whose estates were, as we have stated, cultivated by slaves instead of by free and manly citizens, who had, therefore, but little means of obtaining a livelihood), proposed a law founded on the old Agrarian law, prohi- biting the acquisition of an exorbitant quantity of land, and providing for the distribution of the remainder among the poor. As may be imagined, the most violenJ commotion followed, and we may regard this as the first blow struck in that internecine strife which led at length to the fall of the Republic — the first bitter fruits of those evils to which we have alluded. Long and fierce were the debates which ensued, and at length the senate resorted to unwarrantable means to counteract his influence. The senate, — composed of aristo- crats, — whose excessive power the proposed law would limit, persuaded Octavius, another of the tribunes, to interpose his official veto on the motion of Tiberius — for according to the constitution of Rome at that period, if any tribune (they were ten in number) vetoed a proposal of one of his colleagues, it was at once lost without further discussion. Tiberius was enraged at this unexpected opposition, and forgetting in his intense earnestness the formality of law, he proposed 292 CJESARISM IN ROME. the deposition of his colleague. The people •agreed, with acLiamation, and Octavius was deposed from office. Tiberius Gracchus, Caius Gracchus, and Claudius, were ap- pointed triumvirs for carrying this proposed iaw into effect with all its intricate provisions. But this success was only the commence- ment of his difficulties. The senate were so enraged that they stopped at nothing to thwart his schemes, and when the time came round for his re-election — for the tribunes were elected annually — every effort was made to prevent his success. As it appeared likely he would triumph they resolved on his death. They accused him of endeavouring to acquire supreme power, "i/^ intends to wear the diadejn," they shrieked ; " the tyrant must be slain to save the State." The consul, however, refused to listen to their violent proposals, and thereupon a senator named Nascia exclaiming, " As the consul refuses to protect the Common- wealth, follow me," summoned his followers and colleagues, and rushed to the Capitol, where Tiberius was then addressing his followers. A terrible riot ensued, in which Tiberius and more than three hundred of his partizans were slain, and their bodies thrown into the Tiber. The nobles followed up this success with great ferocity. The partizans of Tiberius were banished and slain without trial, some of them suffering the most terrible deaths — ■one, Caius Vallun, being confined in a vessel with snakes and vipers, until the venomous reptiles stung him to death. Caius Gracchus. But though the nobles had crushed free speech for the time being, they had not succeeded in deterring the people from the projects Tiberius had promulgated. The internecine strife between the oligarchy and the democracy, which was to continue for many years, had begun, and the brother of Tiberius, Caius Gracchus, now came forward as the people's champion. The opportunity which enabled him to do this was the claim of the conquered Italians to be admitted as citizens of the Roman Republic, and to obtain, at least, some share in the privileges of their rulers. Caius was a far abler man than his brother, and endeavoured to procure the same results for ivhich Tiberius had struggled, — the esta- blishment of a contented and prosperous middle class, as the conservators of society and the state, and as a check upon the corrupt aristocrats, — but in a less sudden and abrupt manner. With keen foresight, moreover, he saw that 'the Republic would continue divided against itself — and therefore contain the elements of weakness — so Ion": as the Romans and Ita- hans were hostile to each other, and the rich clique of nobles endeavoured to absorb all the emoluments of that vast empire. He aimed, therefore, not only to improve the condition of the poorer classes, but to recon- struct the constitution. He aimed to weld the dissimilar bodies firmly into one nation, and thus to consolidate the strength of the Republic. Unfortunately his counsels did not prevail, and the terrible struggle was prolonged until great Csesar came diwd/orced the union by causing all to bow to his dicta- torship. By reason of his great talents Caius exerted for a time considerable authority ; but what was one against so many } The nobles continued in their arbitrary course. The wretched Italians were oppressed in every possible way. On the slightest pretext a young noble would order the death of any person he chose ; and when a Roman governor entered any city the inhabitants were denied the commonest privileges of life ; as for instance, they were not allowed to wash themselves in the public baths, so that the building might be sacred to the use of the officer. Caius Gracchus struggled against these enormities in vain. He was continuously and grossly insulted ; and on one occasion when one of his partisans struck to the ground a lictor who had affronted him, the senate declared that he was heading a revolution, and proclaimed the state in danger. A price was set on his head, and Opimius, his great opponent, who had hastily been proclaimed dictator, promised to pay its weight in gold. Thereupon a slave found opportunity to assassinate him, and extracting the brains from the great man's skull filled it with lead, and so obtained a huge reward. Cornelia retired in grief to the country, and her only consolation was to tell to admiring visitors the story of her great father, Scipio Africanus, or her sons — the Gracchi. " The grand-children of Scipio were my sons," she would say ; " they gave their lives for the noblest end — the happiness of the people." Calmly and loftily she bore her sufferings, and many distinguished persons visited her in her retirement. In after days statues were raised to her sons, and a monu- ment was set up to herself in the city, and underneath were placed these words only : "To Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi." The Story of Jugurtha. The nobles exulted over their victory with insolent triumph. Three thousand of the partizans of Caius Gracchus were slain, and the bodies thrown into the Tiber ; then the senate set to work to undo all the good that had been accomplished. The incidents in the story of Jugurtha, 293 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. which followed shortly after the deaths of the Gracchi, bring into full light the corrup- tion of the statesmen who now governed the affairs of Rome. Jugurtha, the natural son of Massinissa, king of Numidia, was a bold, politic, and unscrupulous man. He saw that the love of gold was the mainspring of the Republic, and that every senator had his price. Thereupon he bribed the senate to oust his half-brother from the throne of Numidia. The fiat of the senate was of course law, and by purchasing the support of the senate, a commission was sent to Africa, which divided Numidia be- tween him and his brother Adherbal, Not long after its departure, however, he invaded his brother's territory, conquered him, and put him to a shameful death. This caused great irritation at Rome, and war was commenced against him. For five years, however, by means of bribes and intrigues and battles, he managed to hold his own. It is said that he exclaimed of Rome, " Oh, venal city, thou art destined to perish whenever any one shall be found who will purchase thee." Several generals were sent against Jugurtha, but by reason of bribes he kept them at bay, until Marius, a brave and famous com- mander, was entrusted with the mission. He, being above bribery, soon reduced the Numidian usurper to the last extremity. Jugurtha was brought to Rome in chains, and thrown into a subterranean dungeon, where his gaolers stripped off his clothes, and even tore off his ears for the earrings to satisfy their greed of gain. No food was given him, and he was starved to death. Marius ; Sulla; The Social War. The war with Jugurtha brought into pro- minence two Roman generals, Marius and Sulla, whose personal rivalry for some time becomes the principal line of Rome's history. The wars with the Cimbrians and Teutons, which followed the Jugurthine war, and in which Marius was successfully engaged, led to his repeated elections as consul, while Sulla, who at one time was his lieutenant, and now aspired to be his rival, dogged his steps in every direction, always waiting to step in and take any advantages that Marius might throw in his way. Marius obtained great popularity by admitting to the army men of a lower class than had previously been employed in its ranks. No sooner, however, were these wars with the Cimbri and Teutons concluded, than the franchise having again been re- fused to the Italians, news arrived in Rome that civil war was raging in her provinces. The more immediate cause was the assassi- nation of Drusus, " the Gracchus of the aristocracy," who had endeavoured to ar- range a compromise between the arrogance of the rich and the claims of the poor. This circumstance seemed to reveal to the subject Italians that no help was to be ob- tained, and that their only refuge was in rebellion, and very speedily they had risen in furious revolt. The slaves of Sicily took advantage of this opportunity, and again rosey, and the whole peninsula was in arms, and scenes of the most atrocious cruelty were- perpetrated on both sides. With great promptitude Marius, Sulla, and Pompeius Strabo, were sent to quell the insur- rections, and by their superior generalship this was finally accomplished after two years' hard fighting. It is said that no less than 300,000 men perished in the great struggle, and although " order " among the insurgents was restored by main force, yet they were virtually triumphant, for in the year 89 B.C. the Roman franchise and citizenship was. given to the Italians. It is said that this event exercised the greatest influence upon the old republican constitution, and made Ceesarism a political necessity. However this may be, it was clearly impossible to< refuse the franchise after the social war. Even the most arrogant of patricians could not but see that the presence of so many oppressed thousands with absolutely no voice in the constitution, would be a con- stant source of peril, and they would be ready to follow any chief who would promise them anything. It is moreover an abso- lute fact that the reactionary laws of Sulla, which we shall presently mention, were far more disastrous to the Republic. The granting of the franchise, connected as it was with so many irritating restrictions, was but opening the safety valve a very little way,, and not far enough. The Mithridatic War, and the First Civil War. The excessive jealousy that had long ex- isted between Marius and Sulla kindled into- the direst hatred when the latter was elected consul in 88 B.C., and received the command of the Roman legions in the war against Mithridates, Kingof Pontus. This remarkable man had during the social war supported the insurgents, defied the Republic, overrun the province of Asia Minor, and massacred Roman colonists and traders it was said to the number of 80,000. It is very possible that if the Mithridatic war had broken out before the social war,. Marius would have had the command, but during that war Sulla had by some means managed to win the chief glory, whether it was his by right or not, and he had lately strengthened his position by divorcing his third wife, in order to marry Cecilia, daughter of Metellus, one of the old senatorial nobles. The people well understood what 294 C^SARISM IN ROME. this marriage meant — that it was for political purposes alone, and it was celebrated by lampoons far more witty than complimen- tary. Sulla was steeped to the lips in the gross debauchery of the time, and his lax morals shocked even the sensualists of the day. His countenance was disfigured with terrible eruptions, and with jest it was compared to a " mulberry sprinkled with meal." His man- ners were haughty and morose. He was selfish and ambitious. His object was to rule Rome at the head of a dominant aristocracy, and the power he possessed as a success- ful, almost invincible general, reconciled the nobles to him, especially as he was known to be so fanatically devoted to the aggrandize- ment of their order. It is not a matter of much wonder, therefore, that the Senate appointed Sulla to the leader- ship. Marius, disgusted, discontented, and alarmed for his popularity, commenced to stir up a revolution. He found the materials only too ready to his hand. The new citizens of Latium and Italy, already mortified at finding the inefficiency of their votes, and that though the promised privileges had been given with one hand they were taken back with the other, were again ripe for revolt. Marius conceived the idea of turning their discontent to his own advantage. He proposed to repair the in- justice of the senate, and give them all they wanted. Obtaining the assistance of Sul- picius Galba, a tribune of great eloquence, a revolt was put into execution, which for the time prevailed. The consul remaining in Rome was attacked with a band of armed men, the senate was dissolved, and a new senate created which recalled Sulla, and ap- pointed Marius chief of the army. Sulla returned, but accompanied _by his army, with the avowed determination of over- turning the new government. Marius sent two prjetor^ to meet him and command him to desist, but they were stripped of their togas, their fasces broken, and they were ordered to return to him who sent them. Such violence betokened that worse was to follow. The citizens in alarm sent ambassa- dors to meet him, and promised to do full justice between the rival commanders, and it is said that the "mulberry face " himself faltered in the execution of his daring design; but being warned in a dream — wherein a Roman deity appeared and placed a thunder- bolt in his hand and commanded him to launch it at his enemies — he advanced. As he entered the city, stones and tiles were flung at his troops from the house-tops, but seizing a torch he threatened to burn the city to the ground if any opposition were offered. Marius and his chief partizans fled, and a price was set upon their heads. Sulla reigned supreme. The various romantic adventures which befell Marius — the greatest Roman general of the time — are related with much sympathy by Plutarch, but are too lengthy to be repeated here. He first wished to direct his steps to Africa, the scene of his great exploits, where his influence was still powerful, but becoming shipwrecked, he was discovered. But none of the " barbarians " would slay him — him whom they regarded as the cham- pion of Italy. At last a Cimbrian slave was sent with a sword to dispatch him. Turning his eyes full upon the messenger the old man said, " Slave ! dare you kill Caius Marius "i " Whereupon the man threw down his sword, rushed from the place exclaiming, " I cannot kill Caius Marius." Ultimately he escaped to Africa, where among the ruins of Carthage he meditated his return to power. Meantime Sulla was vigorously prosecuting the war in the East against Mithridates, and the partizans of Marius again made headway under the leadership of Cinna. He raised levies in lower Italy, and at the same time Marius reappeared in Etruria. Both chiefs approached Rome from opposite quarters. On this occasion, after a sanguinary struggle they were successful, and although seventy years of age, Marius was a seventh time elected consul, and prepared to lead an army to the East to supplant Sulla. At this crisis, how- ' ever, he died. Cinna succeeded to his place and power, but not for long. Flaccus, whom he sent to supersede Sulla, was murdered, and the army who had accompanied him was united to the ambitious and powerful leader. With the combined forces Sulla conquered Mithridates, and then led his forces a second time against Rome. The Italian legion summoned to oppose him could not stand against his great military talents and veteran soldiers, and at Sacriportus, and also at the CoUine Gate they were cut to pieces. For the second time Sulla had conquered Rome. The nobility received Sulla with mingled feelings of exul- tation, fear, and admiration, but even they were horror-stricken at the deluge of blood which he caused to be shed. On the morning after the battle at the Colline Gate 8,000 prisoners were killed. When the affrighted senators asked him what meant the outcries they heard without their place of assembly, he replied coolly — - " It is only some rascals whom I have com- manded to be chastised." The Roman Reign of Terror. Day followed day, and the bloody massacre continued. It was a Roman Reign of Terror, far surpassing in horror, in unbridled savagery 295 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY and licentiousness the horrors of the great French Revolution which followed it after many centuries. Many a private grudge was gratified, and many a private vengeance wreaked under guise of the political neces- sity. Marius Gratidian, a young relation of the great Marius, was murdered with the most revolting torture, and his bloody head was placed on Sulla's banquet table. The corpse of the great Marius was taken from its sepulchre and thrown into the Tiber. This was a greater outrage than ever before had been attempted in the contests of the Romans. The desecration of funeral rites was in their eyes a terrible impiety. This authorised system of murder continued for several months, and the favourites of Sulla made a lucrative trade out of selling the right to proscribe persons, as the individuals who thus proscribed another obtained his posses- sions ; so one man was killed for his baths, another for his farm, and so forth. It is re- corded that one unfortunate man, when one day examining the proscription-lists for idle curiosity, saw with surprise and alarm his own name placed thereon. "My Alban farm has killed me !" he exclaimed in horror, and even then his murderers smote him. Sulla heaped favour upon his partizans. To Catiline, a man of as great debauchery as himself, he gave excessive wealth. Crassus also now laid the foundation of that enormous wealth which afterwards earned him the questionable renown of being the richest of Romans. Caius Julius C^sar. Among the witnesses of these terrible doings there was one young man who laid up their teachings in his heart, and made his life-plans accordingly. Caius Julius Ccesar, destined to become the greatest leader of the Roman people, and to reduce this terrible chaos to something like order, was a young man of eighteen when Sulla's Reign of Terror was proceeding. Being connected by blood with the great Marius, he only very narrowly escaped death. Caesar's young wife was a relative of Marius, and Sulla desired Cajsar to repudiate her. This he stoutly refused to do. It was determined to assassinate him, when suddenly he thwarted the plot by fleeing to the Sabine Hills. Assassins followed him, while many friends pleaded with Sulla that his life should be spared. At length the dictator, with prophetic fervour, exclaimed, " I spare him ; but, take care, that trifling boy will be more dangerous than many Marius's." Caesar escaped to the East, where he joined in the siege of Mytilene. Sulla was now lord of all, and the triumph of the nobles was complete. He was the dictator of Rome, and Rome was the mistress 2q6 of the world. With trembling awe the people awaited the announcement of his will. Such a spectacle as this would not be lost upon such a man as Caesar, who had already shown such abilities as to cause Sulla to speak of him as he had done. Already in that young man's mind there had grown up the idea of the course he meant to pursue. Humanly speaking, we might say that without Sulla Julius Ccesar could not have accomplished what he did. Sulla proceeded to re-establish the supre- macy of the nobles, and on this ground he applied for an unlimited dictatorship. His aim was to repeal all the popular mea- sures of the preceding half century, and to lay Rome and the world prostrate at the feet of an irresponsible clique of nobles of which he was chief The utter prostration of the party of Marius enabled him to carry this into effect, and the reactionary system of Sulla has been called the greatest disaster in the history of Rome. Having effected what he called "reform," his love of luxury induced him to retire into private life— where, sur- rounded by buffoons and dancing girls, he indulged to the last in sensual excesses. About a year afterwards, 78 B.C., he died, it is said, of a loathsome disease, caused by his long life of debauchery, which bred vermin in his body, which no medicine or ablution could purge away. The Second Civil War. With the death of Sulla the last stage in the fall of the Republic began. By a violent effort Sulla hadrestoredthe government to the hands of the nobility, — i.e.^ a group of a few hundred families, — but within ten years their incapacity to rule was plainly seen. It was impossible to restrict to so small a number the government, the honours, and emoluments of the world. Lepidus, one of the consuls who succeeded Sulla, was annoyed that he had not received higher rewards from his old chief, and attempted to repeal his laws. He proclaimed the restoration of the powers of the people's tribunes which Sulla had curtailed, and revived the popular party which the dictator had beaten to the ground. He incited the miserable population of Etruria to rise against the faction from which they had suffered such intolerable wrong. The Senate appointed Catullus to lead an army to quell the revolt, which was soon done. Lepidus escaped to Sardinia, where he died shortly afterwards. It must not be supposed that Lepidus was solely actuated by patriotic motives in thus attempting to revive the popular party, and redress the people's wrongs. His antece- dents, his character, and actions all point to the fact that he hoped to attain to the power and position that Sulla had wielded, CA£SARISM IN ROME. and he simply used the democracy for that purpose. And thenceforth that principle seems to have been the dominant one of Roman history. It is a record of the desperate attempts of desperate men from among the nobihty to obtain a dictatorship. The senatorial party now placed themselves under the leadership of their natural chiefs, —Catullus, Lucullus, Servilius, Lentulus, etc., of Marius — recovering their strength, he Ihrtw himself manfully into their cause, and insisted that the trophies of Marius which had been displaced by his successful rival should be reinstated. Very clearly his commanding mind saw how things were tending in Rome ; he saw the mistaken violence of Sulla; he saw how impossible it was that a small clique of nobles — themselves split up into rival Mark Antony's Oration over Cesar's Corpse [page 302). — men of ancient lineage, but poor abilities, who by their dense stupidity, selfishness, and utter carelessness of the claims of the many millions subject to the sway of Rome, helped to fan the smoulderingdiscontentof the people mto the flames of civil war. It was now that the unequalled genius of Julius Caesar began to show itseff. After serving abroad for some time he returned to Rome, and finding his friends — the followers factions — could govern, and, imbued with the traditions of Marius and Cinna, he aspired to rule Rome at the head of the democracy. His great rival was Pompey, then the greatest man in the Roman Republic, who was now in the East, where his conquests had been extended so far that he might almost consider himself the rival of Alexander. Pompey had been one of Sulla's generals. At his command he had put away his wife, 297 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. who was related to Marius, and had married as Sulla dictated. Caesar knew well the kind of man with whom he had to deal. But Pom- pey was now absent from Rome, and Ci^sar pushed himself forward into the very front rank of the popular party, and struck dismay into the hearts of the nobles by calling to account the instruments of Sulla's cruelties. Everything was prospering with him, when suddenly the Catiline conspiracy was dis- covered, and the courage with which the senate, led by Cicero, defeated it, gave them a renewed lease of power. The Catiline Conspiracy. Sergius Catilina, one of the base creatures upon whom Sulla had lavished great favours, having failed to be elected to the consulship, formed a conspiracy among a number of discontented youths, who having lost their wealth and position by reason of their own excesses or of civil strife, were ripe for any wild enterprise. We may suppose that their aims were personal rather than political ; they longed to get rid of the load of debts which weighed them down ; they yearned to divide the public offices and emoluments among themselves ; they looked for support to the cut-throats of Aie city ; they expected the assistance of old disbanded soldiers, who having squandered their spoils were ready to participate in any enterprise which promised more; and, further, some of them would not have refused to take advantage of a slave insurrection. Meanwhile, Catiline, who placed himself at the head of this movement, and endeavoured to organize it, paced the streets with blood- shot eyes and pallid visage, revolving the most dreadful schemes of plunder and revo- lution. But Fulvia, the mistress of Crassus, one of Catihne's confederates, betrayed the plot to Cicero, — the"upstart orator," — who by the force of his genius had won his way into the senate. The nobles, knowing his great abilities, and determining to play on his vanity for their own ends, had allowed him to be elected consul. He had suspected the conspiracy for a long time, and by his instruc- tions Fulvia obtained from her paramour all the particulars of the plot. He was obliged to proceed with the greatest circumspection, for the plot included scions of the noblest houses ; but in the meantime the conspiracy grew. Magazines of arms had been collected, various bodies of insurgents were arrayed to march against the city from different points at a given signal, and arrange- ments had been made to fire it in a hundred places. The Greatest Crisis in the History OF Rome. Cicero was equal to the occasion. Certain troops arriving from the East were sent against various insurrectionary movements in the neighbourhood, and the great orator summoning the senators, of whom Catiline was one, denounced him before them all in the famous speech, which is known as " Cice^'d's First Oration against Catiline "y of which these areafewof the opening sentences, *" How long then, oh, Catilina, how long will you abuse our patience ? What ! are you quite unmoved by the guard which keeps night-watch on the Palatine, by the patrols of the city ? . . . Think you that all your schemes are not open to us as the day ? . . . The senate knows them, the consul sees them, and the man still lives ! Lives, do I say? — Aye, lives, and comes here into the midst of us to join in our counsels, and to mark us one by one for murder. And yet we, into whose hands has been placed the sword of Scipio, of Opimius, of Ahala, still suffer it to sleep in its scabbard ! . . . Yes, I still wait, I still delay ; for I wish you not to* perish till you cease to find a citizen so perverse as to excuse or defend you. Then, and not till then, the sword shall descend upon you. Meantime, live as you now live, tracked by enemies and surrounded by sol- diers. . . . Renounce, then, your designs, for they are discovered and frustrated. . . . I track your deeds, I follow your steps, I know your very thoughts. ... I know the men you mean to murder me. ... I exhort you to go from this city. Go where your armed ruffians await you. . . . Make war against your country. You have determined to do this ; the day is fixed, and every arrangement made." . . . Then turning to the senate Cicero explained the meaning of this harangue. This speech completely turned the tide of affairs, and roused the senate to the deepest indignation. Catiline essayed to speak, but finally he fled precipitately, frightened by the shouts of execration which greeted him. But as he fled he shouted, " I will hide the burning of my own house in the wreck of the city." He left Rome, and placed himself at the head of his insurgents, and died in battle against the troops sent by the senate to quell his insurrection. Cicero, dazzled by the splendour of his success, and excited by the flatteries of the nobles he had saved, lent himself to acts of cruelty against many persons who were only supposed to have been connected with the conspiracy. These presumed asso- ciates were strangled in prison without trial, and once more the arbitrary power of the irresponsible chque of nobles was supreme. But he was never forgiven the assumption of superiority he took up, and it was not the * Merivale. 298 CJLSARISM IN ROME. senate alone that was irritated at his remark, " I am the Saviour of Rome; I am the Father of my country." But what a terrible satire upon the triumphs of Pompey in the East, was the state of things in Rome which the con- spiracy revealed. Had it succeeded, the city would have been at the mercy of a set of aristocratic young bravos and cut-throats ; like a foul ulcer upon fair flesh, it revealed the corruption which lay within, hidden beneath the showy pomps of Roman conquests. The First Triumvirate. But though the sharp suppression of the conspiracy gave a longer lease of power to the senate, it was but for a short time, and the next feature to notice is the paralysis of the power of the senate— that board of govern- ment which for so many years had been the mightiest power in the world. Rent by wretched jealousies, and torn by contention as to who should obtain the highest magis- tracy, it did nothing but feebly squabble or attempt to frustrate the purposes of men whom it disliked. Meantime, Caesar, whose schemes had been somewhat thwarted by the conspiracy, forced himself again to the front. While the nobles had been contending among themselves, he ; obtained the preetorship, the second rank in the scale of office, and in the year 60 B.C. he went forth to gain his first laurels as com- mander in the war with Spain. Pompey, returning from his arduous struggles in the East, found that his popu- larity had considerably waned with the senate. They refused to accord him the honour of a triumph, or to ratify his treaties and political arrangements in the East. Further, they were jealous, and afraid of his power with his large army. He could get no satis- faction until he had formed a coalition with Crassus and Caesar, — when he returned from Spain to sue for the consulship. This coalition is known as the First Triumvirate, and the immediate result of the compact was, that secretly supported by the influence of Pompey and the g'old of Crassus, and borne on the tide of his own popularity, Caesar was elected consul by loud acclamations. Pie soon marked his accession to power by pro- posing and passing certain popular laws, which tended to increase the supply and lower the price of corn, and to limit the excessive accjuirement of land by the nobles. It was in vain that Bibulus, his colleague, endeavoured to oppose these laws. Ceesar was successful in every respect ; and when his year of office had expired, and he had carried his war against the senate to the utmost limits of the law, he caused Pompey and Crassus to be appointed consuls in his stead, and himself to be de- puted dictator for five years of the western army, and pro-consul of Gaul. In this distant country he was beyond the reach of the enmity of the nobles, but yet could keep himself informed of all that trans- pired within the city. As a dictator of the army he was compelled by the laws to keep without the gates of Rome while retaining his command, and therefore every rainy sea- son he repaired to Lucca, the nearest point on the frontier, there to consult with his friends on the measures likely to lead to the bene- fit of himself and his party ; among other things it was arranged that Pompey should be appointed pro-consul of Africa and Spain, and Crassus dictator in Syria, and that Cesar's command should be extended for another five years after the expiration of his first term of office. But the bands which had held together this political union between Ceesar, Pompey, and Crassus were being gradually loosened. Ccesar had married his daughter Julia to Pompey — although he was older than Csesar himself — in order to cement the union, and that he might work on the selfish old man through his wife ; but in the year 54 B.C. she died, and Csesar lost a great part of his influence over him. The senate, too, began to play off one against the other, and to take advantage of his absence to flatter Pompey. On the occurrence of a scarcity in the city they conferred upon him extraordi- nary power to preserve the people from famine. Crassus failed in Syria, and the Parthians, against whom he led his army, obtained a decisive victory over the Romans at the terrible battle of Charrhte. Crassus was slain, and the remnant of his army brought back by the ablest of his lieutenants. The Contest between C^sar and Pompey. This breaking, by death, of the triple league between the three great pro-consuls was an opportunity for the senate, and they saw it. They recommenced their overtures to Pom- pey, — who still remained in Rome, and governed his provinces by means of lieu- tenants, — and granted him the distinction of a dictatorship over Rome itself for six months. Pompey, too, was now terribly jealous of his great colleague. Caesar was not the dissipated spendthrift he had once imagined him to be, and instead of being the prop to his power, Pompey found that he had be- come a serious rival, and the most successful and popular of public men. Ccesar had indeed achieved remarkable and brilliant success. The rebellious Gauls had been tamed into complete submission, and were now the most contented and valu- able of the Roman allies. The barbarians of Britain had also been brought under the 299 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. sway of the Republic, and before his second term of office as dictator had expired, he had most successfully accomplished the task that he had undertaken. He determined therefore to return to Rome, and apply for the consul- ship a second time, as he was now quite justified in doing. The senate, with Pompey at their head, — for he had now quite thrown in his lot with the nobles, — endeavoured by all means in their power to prevent his return, and at last they boldly commanded him to relinquish his dictatorship of the army. He retorted that Pompey,- — who at that time held command of all the troops in Spain,— while still residing in Rome, should also give up command of his army. But this Pompey stoutly refused to do, although the opposition he offered to Caesar was in direct contravention of their preconcerted plans, for before the death of Crassus it had been arranged by the triumvi- rate that Cccsar should be consul again in 48 B.C. This last action of Pompey's made it clear to Cassar that he must regard Pompey as an enemy. He knew, moreover, how cordially the senate hated him, and how strong was the opposition arrayed against him, and that £0 show himself in Rome without his army would be but to court assassination. Still further, he saw how incapable the senate were of government. A selfish, careless, cor- rupt, and worn-out body, their only idea of I'uling was to crush the people beneath a grinding tyranny, which must eventually cause the commons to rise in rebellion, and open the city to the inroads of rough bar- barians, as had previously been the case. He saw that the conquests ofthe city had become so large, that there was imminent danger of the genuine Roman race being overcome by its alien subjects ; and that by reason of internecine strife there was a great risk ofthe gigantic commonwealth breaking up into numerous states by reason of its own weight. He therefore conceived the grand idea of crushing all rival factions, of fusing all sepa- rate interests, and of moulding the mighty mass of alien subjects into one people, obedient to the sway of one man, and that man — himself The people were powerless to govern themselves, the aristocrats were too corrupt and divided. The only strength in Rome was the army, and of the best part of that army Ceesar was dictator. It was indeed Aut CcFsar, ant inilhis — Either Caesar, or Nothing. CiESAR Crosses the Rubicon. Csesar moved slowly towards Italy at the head of his exultant and well-trained army. His soldiers regarded him almost as a god, and he knew that he could rely upon them to any extent. It was clear that no union could now exist between the Senate led by Pompey and himself, and that civil war was imminent. Warily he waited for some circumstance which should give him the advantage and afford him some show of legality, and a brief pause ensued in the stern march of events. It was but the calm before the storm. One night two tribunes ofthe people, who had protested in vain against the terrible oppressions of the senate, alarmed for their own safety, fled from Rome with the news that the laws proposed on behalf of the popular party had been contemptuously rejected (January ist, 49 B.C.), and that Cassar was to be compelled to resign his office. Then Csesar struck — sharply and well. With lightning-like speed he crossed the Rubicon,- — the small stream forming the fron- tier ov^erwhich a dictator might not legally pass with his army, — and marched towards Rome. The senate and Pompey were dismayed, and fled, vainly protesting. Csesar knew now that hesitation would be fatal, and it is said that as his horse stepped out of the stream on to the soil of Italy, he exclaimed, J act a est a lea, The die is cast. Either the shadowy senate, or Cccsar, must reign. The dictator was careful to assume the appearance of legality, and he proclaimed that he entered Italy with his army to vindi- cate the law. On his way to Rome he garrisoned city after city, and rendered the whole population subject to himself This was not difficult for him to accomplish, for on every hand the people rose to welcome him as their deliverer from the oppression of the cruel aristocracy which had ground them down so long. Then when he had secured the provinces he turned his steps to the Tiber city, where a joyful people received him with acclamations. From the remnant of the nobles who re- mained in Rome he summoned a senate; he seized the treasures of the State, and with politic clemency proclaimed an amnesty to all nobles who would unite with him, and denounced the fallen government as traitors and rebels. The Beginning of the End. But Pompey, although fallen, was not beaten, and he was now collecting a large army from his veteran soldiers in the East, who had enabled him to win such magnificent victories in Greece and Asia. Still further, Spain was garrisoned with his troops, and by his command they marched against Gaul. Ccesar, therefore, swiftly crossed the Pyrenees, and attacked Pompey's lieutenants in Spain. Obtaining several signal victories over them he quickly returned to Rome, and announced himself guardian of the state against all enemies. Joyfully the people granted him the dictatorship of the state 300 C.SSARISM IN ROME. as well as of the army, and he prepared to finally crush his great rival. Pompey had now collected together a large army in Epirus, and had taken up a strong position on the coast. Caesar therefore gathered all his forces for a final struggle. His weakness lay in want of ships. Pompey had still command of the sea and a superior fleet, and in the first engagement Caesar was repulsed with loss. He then boldly dashed into Thessaly in the very centre of the enemy's country, hoping to draw Pompey from his strong position. In this he was successful. The followers of Pompey elated with their success against the great Caesar insisted on their leader following him. The old general, the hero of a hundred fights, hesitated, but the tempta- tion was too strong; he panted to crush like a nutshell this upstart Caesar, this former "tool" of his, as he had fondly and foolishly hoped he was. His forces doubled those of Caesar, why not venture ? So he yielded. The armies met on the plains of Pharsalia, and a long and sanguinary struggle ensued, which ended in the complete rout of Pom- pey's army. The old general fled to Lesbos, and the members of the senate with him were either scattered or slain, and its power as a governing body was completely broken. Pompey finding that he was pursued by Csesar escaped from Lesbos, thence to Cyprus, and finally to Egypt. He was trea- cherously murdered by Lucius Septimius as he was landing from a boat to the Egyptian shore, and his head was sent to Caesar in triumph. It is stated that his assassination was ordered by Ptolemy, the young King of Egypt, who hoped thereby to obtain favour with the all-conquering Cassar. In this he was mistaken; the dictator shed tears when the ghastly gift was brought him. He erected a temple to the memory of his great rival, and punished his murderers. Although the form of government was still a Republic, the spirit had departed, and every- thing depended on the will of Cssar. After settling various disputes and rebellions in the East, and remaining in Egypt fascinated by the charms of Cleopatra, he returned to Rome, where the people eagerly welcomed him, and again made him dictator. The greater number of the nobles made their submission, and Csesar treated them with great clemency. A remnant fled to Africa, and under the indomitable Cato still stood out for the oligarchy at Utica. Had they possessed means, money, and wisdom, they might have greatly embarrassed Cassar when he was engaged in quelling disturbances in the East. But they allowed the opportu- nity to slip, and Csesar continued his conquer- ing course. At the [battle of Thapsus, B.C. 46, Cato's troops were completely overthrown, and the rout of the senatorial party was complete. Cato, recommending his followers to yield to the clemency of the dictator, escaped the field of battle, only to throw himself on his sword. All Caesar's opponents being now over- thrown he returned once more to Rome, to find himself the undisputed dictator of the world. True, all the old forms of government were to be continued, yet those forms were subject to his will. He was made consul for five years, dictator for one year, and after- wards for life, tribune of the people, and empowered to make peace or war at his will. He was also declared imperator, or com- mander-in-chief of the army, and his word was law. The founders of the constitution had pro- vided for the creation of a dictator — i.e., an autocratic ruler — in times of peril, but they never seemed to have thought that there might come a time when the dictator would be consul, praetor, and tribune at the same time, and roll into one person all the offices and dignities of the state ; yet this was now the case, and this initial mis- take in the Republican constitution of allow- ing a dictator to be at any time appointed,, completed its ruin. Ctesar was not therefore roughly violating any law of the state in what he had done, and we must not regard him as an ambitious autocrat riding rough-shod over the liberties of the people. He drove away a cruel oligarchy which was more oppressive and tyrannical than any king, and, according to the law, accepted a dictatorship granted him by the people. The difference was that /lis dictatorship was now for life, and in Rome itself, whereas others had been for a term only, and had expired when, with their army, they returned to Rome. The title he took, " Imperator," which was now impressed on the coinage of the time, intimated as much, and it also signified the rule of the sword, which was now indeed the dominant power in Rome. The Republic had ruled others by the sword, and it was now ruled by the sword itself. CESAR'S Laws and Policy. The dictator consolidated his power by wise laws. He suffered no unjust punish- ments, briberies, or confiscations, and the populace soon felt the benefit of his mild and equable rule. He also built temples and restored cities; he codified the laws of the Republic, and projected a complete survey of Italy and the provinces; while last, but not least, he rectified the calendar which has lasted to our own day, with but a few trifling alterations, and is now used all over Europe. His object was to mould the whole of the conquered peoples into one empire of uniform 301 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. laws and customs, therefore he opened the senate to chiefs from Gaul and Africa. Cleo- patra, the beautiful Egyptian princess, was given a Roman palace, and it was said that he intended to marry her. He conferred the citizenship on the whole of the Cisalpine population, and men of strange manners and uncouth mien now mingled largely with the genuine Romans in the Roman streets. Unfortunately he now suffered his vanity to overrule his reason, and allowed his better judgment to be warped by the flatteries of his friends. He permitted himself to be worshipped as a divinity, and favoured the designs of his flatterers who wished to crown him king. So it came to pass that Rome became filled with rumours that Caesar desired the diadem, and not satisfied with being dictator for life wished to be crowned king — a name hateful beyond all others to Roman ears. And so it happened that at the feast of the Lupercalia, Antony thrice offered him the diadem, and the scene was enacted which we have en- deavoured to describe at the opening of this paper. But there were discontented repub- licans who looked with suspicion on Cesar's proceedings, and they hatched the conspiracy, the members of which stabbed the dictator in the senate house. It is said that only one of their number, Brutus, acted from really pure and disinterested motives. When the deed was done, and Rome was for the time without a leader, Cicero — who had accepted the supremacy of the dictator with the resignation of a wise philosopher, because he saw that it was futile to fight against the inevitable — joined the band of pseudo-patriots and repaired to the Capitol, whither they went to justify their crime to the people. If they had truly been the patriots that they styled themselves, and had listened to his advice, new life might have been breathed into the forms of the Republic, and at this crisis the empire which Csesar had esta- blished might have been overturned in its infancy. But they were led away by this skilful cajolery of Mark Antony, who ob- tained permission to celebrate Csesar's obse- quies in public, and on the day of the funeral delivered such a soul-stirring oration, that the populace were entirely swayed over to the side of Ceesarism, and had not the conspira- tors fled, there in great reason to believe that not one would have been left alive. The Second Triumvirate. The period following the murder of Caesar was occupied with the intrigues of Antony and " young Octavius," the nephew of Caesar, who had been adopted by the dictator as his son. He was at this time only a young man of nineteen, but he made friends with Cicero, even as Antony had cajoled the other con- spirators, and made a bold bid for the place and power of his kinsman. Popular feeling was so strong against the conspirators that most of them found it advisable to escape from the city, and Brutus and Cassius, the two principal members, re- tired to Syria. The field, therefore, was far more open for the machinations of Octa\'ius than might at first be supposed. Moreover, he was great Caesar's heir, and he demanded the restitution of his inheritance from Antony, who had in the meantime possessed himself of it. Antony collected some troops together and retired to the Cisalpine, while the senate, impelled by the philippics of Cicero, sent out an army under two consuls to crush him. Octavius also led an army ostensibly against Antony and in support of the senate, but really to watch events. In the battle which ensued Antony was routed, but the consuls were slain. Thereupon Octavius swiftly united himself to Antony, and these two again made a coalition with the third division of Caesar's troops under Lepidus, and the three leaders agreed to share the government between them. This compact is known as "The Second Triumvii-ate," and thus it came to pass that after Caesar s death Caesar's government was carried on by his friend and co-consul Mark Antony, his nephew Octavius, and his lieu- tenant Lepidus, backed up by his army. The senate and the citizens were alike ignored. Proscriptions and Assassinations; The Plains of Philippi. The firstfruits of this triumvirate were the slaughter of some thousands of persons — senators and citizens — whom the triumvirs thought likely to thwart their plans. As- sassins were hired to carry out these edicts of execution, and again the streets of Rome ran blood" Among others the noble orator and eloquent patriot, Cicero, who was indeed one of the fathers of his country, and had saved her in the time of the Catiline con- spiracy, put off his escape until too late, and was treacherously slain. And as he fell, so fell other patriots. Having waded to their chairs of state through a sea of blood, the triumvirs now bethought them of the conspirators who had fled to Syria. During the time which had elapsed since the death of Caesar, Brutus and Cassius had collected a formidable force in the East, and as the troops of the triumvirs drew near it seemed doubtful how the day would go. Brutus, it is said, was much disturbed in mind, and afflicted with doubts as to the wisdom and justifiability of his action in the murder of Caesar. He was anxious either to 302 CyESARISM IN ROME. gain a great triumph and free Rome from the usurpers, or to be' himself slain. The two armies met on the plains of Phi- iippi, and the legions under the command of Cassius having suffered defeat, he threw himself on his sword rather than yield himself up as a prisoner. Brutus had been more successful, but finding himself now sole com- mander he drew off his forces. The trium- virs, were, however, but badly off for food, and if Brutus had been content to wait his opportunity his opponents might have been forced by famine to retreat ; but some twenty days later he offered battle and suffered a signal defeat, which he rendered irrecover- able by killing himself. His followers were now completely broken, and although some escaped and joined themselves to Sextus, son of Pompey, the republican party never made another effort. The plains of Philippi wit- nessed their last wild stand. The Fall of the Triumvirate ; Augustus Emperor. After the battle of Philippi, Octavius retired to Rome, where he governed the city and Italian provinces with a degree of wisdom and self-control that gained him great favour. Antony, according to arrangement, governed the East, while Lepidus held command of Gaul. The fascinating and wily Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, remembering how successful she had been with the great Caesar, now set to work to ingratiate herself with Caesar's eastern successor ; and so successful was she, that before long she had him completely in her toils. He took up his abode on the banks of the Nile, and neglecting the affairs of state, yielded himself up entirely to a life of easy indulgence. His long-announced expedition against the Parthians ended in disaster, and great dis- gust at his worthless rule began to spread amongst his followers. Reports reached Rome that Roman rule in the East was becoming weakened, that Antony had masqued as an Egyptian god, and last, but not least, that he was preparing a terrible attack on the Tiber city itself, with intent to rule as its king, and make his mistress Cleopatra its queen. This was Octavius' opportunity, and he took it. Coming forward as the saviour of the state, he led a magnificent army across the Adriatic to vindicate the rule of Rome. Antony had not been idle, and had collected many troops and ships, and if Cleopatra had not acted treacherously the issue of the struggle would have been very doubtful. But when the first battle was fought between the opposing fleets off the promontory of Actium, she, fearing that Octavius would gain the day, suddenly gave her own ships the signal of retreat, and with them retired to Alexandria. Antony, forgetful alike of honour and of the danger of defeat, fled after her, leaving his ships and soldiers to their fate. The ships were for the most part destroyed, but his soldiers, disgusted with the conduct of their leader, surrendered en masse to the conquering Octavius. The whole military force was now in the hands of Octavius, who pushed on promptly for Alexandria. The treacherous Cleopatra opened the gates of her city to the young Roman without a blow, and Antony, in a paroxysm of rage, threatened to kill her. She shut herself up in a tower, and sent word that she should slay herself, and that before he received the mes- sage she would be dead. The besotted Roman then accused himself of causing her death ; and seeing now that his rival was completely his conqueror, and that his mistress was dead, he resolved, too, to quit the world. Stabbing himself he besought her attendants to carry his body and place it beside hers. They did so, and the artful Cleopatra witnessed his death in her chamber. Having thus got quit of the old love she endeavoured to be " on with the new " ; and brought all her power of blandishment to bear on the young Octavius. She had ensnared Caesar and Antony ; this young man would prove an easy conquest ; she might yet save her own kingdom, and indeed, rule the world from the Capitol of Rome. But when in her presence the youth- ful conqueror resolutely turned his eyes from her ; and not only did he demand her rich kingdom of Egypt, but also declared his intention of exhibiting her as his captive to the citizens of Rome when he celebrated his triumphal entry into the imperial city. To this the haughty Cleopatra offered in- dignantly a scornful refusal, but in vain ; and rather than yield she determined to die. She was guarded day and night, for the young Octavius counted greatlyupon herappearance in his triumph; but she contrived to get an asp conveyed to her in a basket of fruit, and caused the poisonous reptile to sting her arm, and thus perished. The entire control of the army and of the Roman Empire had now passed into the hands of Octavius ; for Lepidus, who had held command of Gaul, had rashly committed an act of hostility against the governor of Rome who thereupon had promptly marched an army against him and defeated him. When, there- fore, Octavius returned to Rome, and had entered the city at the head of his army, he evaded the law, — which provided that every dictator should disband his forces and resign his title on his return home, — and remained the commander-in-chief even as his uncle the great Csesar had done. Thenceforward he set himself to consolidate the empire as his uncle had left it. He acted, however, with great prudence and circumspection, and as- 303 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. cended to absolute autocratic rule slowly and by degrees. He resolutely refused to have aught to do with titles of" king " or " dicta- tor," and invented a new title for himself, " Augustus," " the most sacred one " ; and as Augustus Csesar he is known to this day. His reign was a brilliant one. As his uncle had done, he devoted himself to the consolidation and improvement of the em- pire, to a just administration of the laws, and to a binding together of the subject peoples into one common nationality. He spent large sums on the embellishment of Rome, and so beautified the city that the proverb arose, " Augustus found Rome brick and left it marble." On every side he raised a fabric of material prosperity, and, cheated by this, the stubborn Romans forgot their ancient freedom. Henceforth their history was continued under the reigns of sixty Caesars, who for the most part were voluptuous loungers or wretched despots. Only a few exhibited any approach to the wisdom and genius of the great man, — the foremost man of all the world, — as Shakespeare calls him, who moulded that mighty mass of jarring discords into one empire. Crushed under the iron heel of an absolute despotism, the sighs and cries of the people for freedom were lost amid the intrigues of autocrats and stifled by the over- whelming force of an omnipotent army. But the cruelties which once the nobles had visited on the people were now visited on them- selves. The Emperor, as chief of the army, caused every one to be subservient to his will, and Csesarism — government by brute force — reigned supreme. Influence of C^sarism on the World. Thus closed that memorable epoch — an epoch of a hundred years — when the Republic of Rome fell into fragments, and the empire rose on its ruins. It fell because of its inter- nal corruption and faulty construction : it was no longer a Republic as we understand the word, but an aristocratic commonwealth — a discordant oligarchy in which absolute power was usurped by a few ; and the people gladly welcomed the rest afforded by the wise sway of a moderate and discreet man of command- ing genius, after a century of misrule by a clique of wicked nobles — a century of inter- necine strife and sanguinary struggles, in which they were always sacrificed to the selfish amis of opposing parties. Of all periods of long-past history, this epoch is one of the most important and in- structive, for it has influenced the character of European civilization even to the present day. Forgetful of the pecuhar circumstances of the time, and forgetful also of the trans- cendent genius of Caesar, there have been men who have been misled by his success, and endeavoured to walk in his steps. Even now there are some among us, as well as on the Continent, who point admiringly to the triumph of Cassarism, and proclaim it the form of government which is wisest and best. But when it is shorn of its splendours, Ccesarism is seen to be simply the govern- ment of a mighty mass of people by brute force, directed by the commanding genius of one man, and that man the dictator of the democracy rather than the nominee of proud patricians, or the hereditary ruler of a reign- ing house. And however necessary such a government may have been in the epoch which we have attempted to describe, the true lesson to be learned therefrom is that, in free self-government alone, where each estate in the realm exerts its own legitimate power and influence, is that happiness of the people to be found which affords the best safeguard of a prosperous and well-established state. F. M. H. 304 The English Hoof on Irish Soil. STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT THE STORY OF THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. The Land of Continual War — The Holy Angel's Communication and St. Bridget— The Native Kings of Ireland— Hungry Looks from England— Henry the Se:ond's Scheme, and Appeal to the Pope— The Irish Church- Kin^^ Dermot and the Lady Devorgoil— Giraldiis Cambrensis and his Opinion of Women— A Papal Bull— Flight of King Dermot to England— Strongbow and other Soldiers of Fortune— Siege of Wexford — A Kingly Cannibal— Normans and Natives — Massacre and Marriage— King Roderic and the Invaders — Strongbow King of Leinster — King Henry interferes^ A Royal Visit — "More Irish than the Irish "—Appeal to the Bruces of Scotland— The Statutes of Kilkenny — Poyning's Law and " the Pale" — Rule of the Tudors— Terrible Condition of the Native Irish— Absenteeism— Pro- jects for Reforming the Irish Church— A Reign of Terror— The Plantation of Ulster— The Irish Society of London — The Curse of Cromwell— Boyne Water and the Siege of Limerick — The Treaty of Limerick — A Policy of Oppression. The Land of Strife. |N abojk entitled De Salute Popitli^ the author of v/hich, an Irishman, who styled himself " Panderus," lived in the early part of the six- teenth centurv, it is related that the good St. Brigetta, or Bridget, was told by " her holy angel," that there was a land in the west part of the world where most souls were lost, "for there is most continual war, root of hate and envy, and of vices contrary to charity, and without charity the souls cannot be 305 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. saved." The opinion of the author of the I book was that Ireland was the land that the i angel meant, " for there is no land in the | world of so continual war ; nor of so great j shedding of Christian blood ; nor of so great I robbery, spoiling, preying, and burning ; nor ; of so great wrongful extortion continually, as \ Ireland." 1 When these words were written, Ireland had been for more than three centuries nominally subject to the kings of England, the dominant landholders were of English descent, and the common law of England was presumably the law of the Green Island. Mr. Froude, referring to the passage quoted above, says, with apparent justice, " The Pander's satire upon the English enterprise is a heavy one." Augustin Thierry, the historian of the Norman Conquest in England, traced by the aid of extensive knowledge, and with a strong sympathy, the story of the Norman-English conquest of Ireland. He says, " The con- quest of Ireland by the Anglo-Normans is perhaps the only one that, after the first disasters which all conquests necessarily entail, has not, in the slow and imperceptible progress of events, been succeeded by a gradual amelioration in the social condition of the conquered people. . . . The sad and singular fate which weighs alike upon the old and the new inhabitants of the isle of Erin, has for its cause the vicinity of England, and the influence which its government has con- tinually exercised, since the conquest, over the internal affairs of that country." The Native Kings of Ireland. Ireland, like England, had struggled bravely, and in the end successfully, against the invasions of the Scandinavian sea-kings, before the Norsemen, the Normans of his- tory, established a sovereignty in England. There was friendship between some of the famous Saxon leaders and the Irish princes. When the sons of the great Earl Godwin unsuccessfully rebelled against Edward the Confessor, Harold, the second son, took refuge in Ireland, with his brother-in-law, Donough, King of Munster, who had married Driella, sister of Harold. This Donough was the son of Brian Boru, the warrior king celebrated in song and history in connection with the defeat of the Danes at Clontarf ; and after the death of Malachy, who wore, as Tom Moore reminds us, " the collar of gold," and was the last crowned King of Ireland, Donough assumed the title and claimed to exercise the power of Ard-righ, or King of all Ireland, having, in accordance with a policy not limited to those days, brought about the murder of his brother, Teigue, who had a superior claim. The island was then divided into five 306 kingdoms — Ulster, Leinster, Meath, Con- naught, and Munster. The Ard-righ, or chief monarch, possessed the central district of Meath, and usually resided at a place which has served as the rallying-point of Irish nationality even in our own times — Tara, or the hill of Teamhair, where, in the great hall of the palace of King Cormac, the semi-legendary monarch of the fourth cen- tury, a hundred and fifty warriors stood in the King's presence when he feasted, and a hundred and fifty cupbearers handed the guests cups of silver and gold ; and where,, too, bards of marvellous poetic powers played on "the harp which once in Tara's halls its soul of music shed." For twenty years after the death of Malachy, the kingdom of Meath was governed by two " wise men," Cuan O'Lochlann, a poet, and Corcran Cleiveach^ described as an anchoret, probably an eccle- siastic of ascetic life. King Donough of Munster had a formidable rival, as a claim- ant to the supreme kingship, in Dermod Mac Mael-nambo, King of Leinster, the northern portion of the island. The former was successful ; but Turlough O'Brien, the son of the murdered Teigue, avenged his- father's death by attacking and defeating: Donough, who went on a pilgrimage to Rome to do penance for the fratricide he had committed, and there he died. Nine years afterwards the King of Leinster was killed in battle, and Turlough was recognized as King of Ireland. Two years after the death of Donough,. his brother-in-law, Harold, was defeated at Hastings, and the Norman William was King of England. How the great conquest was achieved and followed up we all know. The Saxons were subdued, Norman soldiers of fortune became powerful barons, castles were erected to overawe the common people, and the land of England was parcelled out among the followers of the powerful William and his immediate successor on the throne. Hungry Looks from England. It is hardly to be supposed that Ireland, so near to England, peopled by a balf-savage race, and known to be suffering from internal dissensions, caused by the contests of the petty kings for supremacy, would be over- looked by the ambitious earls and barons, accustomed to win wealth and honours by the sword, or by the Enghsh monarch, trained to believe in the right of conquest. Henry the Second, son of the Empress Maud and Geoffrey of Anjou, and great- grandson of the Conqueror, had been only two years on the throne, when he attempted to put into execution a scheme which had probably been long cherished. As a Christian King he felt bound to obtain the sanction of the Pope, as head of Christendom ; and STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT. Popes, in their political relations, were amenable to reason, especially if arguments were accompanied by other inducements. Pope Adrian IV., Nicholas Breakspeare, an Englishman by birth, attained the tiara in the same year that Henry ascended the English throne, and there had been a great interchange of complimentary messages. The project for annexing Ireland to England was favoured by the papal conclave as a means of obtaining greater control over the Irish Church. The influence of Rome in ecclesiastical matters had been gradually developing, several of the bishops having pro- fessed unreserved obedience ; lout the clergy generally, and with them the greater portion of the people, animated by a love of national independence, had exhibited a spirit of passive resistance to the extension of papal influence. Eighty years before, an Irish bishop, Patricius, who had been chosen by the clergy and the people, and confirmed in his office by the king of his province and the Ard-righ, or supreme king, had visited England for the purpose of being consecrated at Canterbury, in obedience to a law of the Roman Church, which required that every bishop should receive consecration from an archbishop decorated with the pallium ; and following up this demonstration of submis- sion, several Irish bishops accepted the title of pontifical legate in Hibernia. The Irish Church. In mi, St. Celsus, Archbishop of Armagh, and Maelmure (the servant of Mary), Arch- bishop of Cashel, fifty bishops, three hundred priests, and three thousand members of religious orders, attended a synod convened in Westmeath, for the purpose of reorganiz- ing ecclesiastical matters and enforcing discipline among the clergy and laity. The number of the bishops was reduced to twenty-four, and other regulations were agreed to. St. Malachy, who succeeded Celsus as Archbishop of Armagh, had, while Bishop of Down and Connor, made a pilgrimage to Rome, and received from Innocent II. the appointment of apostolical legate ; but his request that the Irish arch- bishops might receive the pallium (the vest- ment made of the wool of lambs, blessed by the Pope on the festival of St. Agnes, and rendered more sacred by being deposited on the tomb of St. Peter during the eve of his festival), and so be pontifically recognized in their high office, was refused until the pallium was formally asked for by the prelates themselves. In 1148, Malachy con- vened a great synod, at which, as legate of the Holy See, he presided, and at which it was decided that he should make another attempt to obtain the coveted palliums. Pope Eugene III. was then visiting the abbey of Clairvaux, in France, wliere St. Bernard had established the famous order of Bernardine monks. But the Pope had quitted Clairvaux before the arrival of Malachy, who, a few days afterwards, was attacked by a mortal sickness, died, and was buried in the abbey. The Pope, however, consented to confer the palliums, and in 1151 sent Cardinal Papirius with them to Ireland, and in the following year they were con- ferred at the Council of Kells, at Avhich also it was decided that the clergy should be entitled to tithes. The laity probably cared little for the palliums, and, it would seem, objected to the tithes, for they were not enforced until after the conquest by the English. King Dermot and the Lady Devorgoil. In 1 157, Christianus, Bishop of Lismore, and the Pope's legate, held a synod attended by a large number of bishops, and Murtough O'Loughlin, King of Ireland. One of the objects of the meeting was the excommunica- tion of Donough O'Melaghlin, King of Meath, who is described by the historians of the time as being " the common pest of the country." He had obtained possession of the lands o£ Tiernan O'Ruac, or O'Rourke, Prince of Brefni, who had married his sister, Devorgoil,. or Devorgilla, and being on terms of friend- ship with Diarmid (Dermot) MacMurrough, King of Leinster, a man ready to commit any crime to promote his own interests or - pleasures, assisted him in a project, the execution of which was, as we shall see, the immediate cause of the English invasion. The two kings, united in their enmity to- wards O'Ruac, planned the abduction of Devorgoil (Donough's sister, be it remem- bered) by MacMurrough ; and she, worthy of her relationship, was a willing accomplice, and not only left her husband, but took with her in her flight the cattle which had formed her dowry. She afterwards returned, and. passed forty years in religious seclusion, contrition, and penance, devoting her wealth to works of charity, and building churches and convents. Gerald Barry, better known to us by the Latinized form of his name, Giraldus Cambrensis, (that is Gerald the Welshman,) says of Devorgoil, who has been made the subject of many a ballad and legend, " By her own procurement and en- ticings she became, and would needs be, a prey to the preyer ; " adding (we must re- member the good chronicler was a celibate monk, and probably not without prejudices against the " wily sex "), " Such is the variable and fickle nature of a woman, by whom all mischiefs in the world (for the most part) do happen and come." The papal hold on the Irish ecclesiastics 307 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. was increasing, but as yet the temporal power of the Pope was very imperfectly recognized. The kings were practically pagans, whatever their occasional profes- sions might be, and kings and people alike objected to the interference in temporal matters of the Pope. They had their own laws, administered by their own Brehons, or judges — laws described by Spenser as "a rule of right unwritten, but delivered by tradition one to another, in which oftentimes there appeared great show of equity in deter- mining the right between party and party, but in many things repugnant quite both to God's laws and man's." These laws, origi- nally framed at the instigation of St. Patrick, and therefore, it may be supposed, not quite "repugnant to the laws of God and man," for the good saint was a scholar too, helped to preserve a spirit of national independence which the papal conclave and the Irish eccle- siastics perhaps found inconvenient ; and as the Papacy has never strongly objected to avail itself of the temporal arm, Adrian was probably the less unwilling to sanction the designs of Henry of England. Papal Sanction of the Invasion of Ireland, The bull asked for was issued ; and, after the formal greeting and benediction^ proceeds in these terms : — " Thou hast communicated unto us, our very dear son in Jesus Christ, that thou wouldst enter the island of Hibernia, to sub- ject that land to obedience to laws, to extir- pate the seeds of vice, and also to procure the payment there to the blessed apostle Peter of the annual tribute of a penny for each house. Granting to thee thy laudable .and pious desire the favour which it merits, we hold it acceptable that, for the extension of the limits of the holy Church, the propa- gation of the Christian religion, the correction of morals, and the sowing the seeds of wirtue, thou make thy entrance into that island, and there execute at thy discretion .whatever thou shalt think proper for the thonour of God and the salvation of souls." The bull of course concluded with an exhor- tation to consider the interests of the Church, ,and of the religion and morals of the people, . and so to order matters generally that " thou shalt become worthy of obtaining in heaven a reward everlasting, and upon earth a name ilkistrious and glorious in all ages." The bull has been described as a " a sort of decent envelope for a political compact, . entirely similar to that of William the Bastard with Pope Alexander II. for the invasion of England." Henry was willing enough to .avail himself of it ; but his quarrels with his brother Geoffrey of Anjou, the rivalry of the ■King of France, and the troubles arising from the murder of A'Becket, for a time hindered the execution of the project. Be- sides, although it was easy enough to plan an invasion, it was less easy to find an excuse, however bad, for attempting it. The King must depend upon his barons for military aid ; and those powerful personages were not very ready to obey a king or a pope either, unless they saw their way to some advantage for themselves. The results of the abduction of Devorgoil by Dermot MacMurrough offered an oppor- tunity for English interference. That un- principled and cruel King of Leinster, familiar with acts of treachery and sacrilege, had made himself odious by such acts as forcibly carrying away the abbess of Kildare, and putting out the eyes of eighteen men of noble rank, and of many others too ignoble, perhaps, for compassion. He treated the unhappy Devorgoil with great harshness while she remained with him ; and after he had been compelled to give her up, it is not surprising that an alliance was formed against him, that he was excommunicated by the Church, and driven from his dominions. Giraldus Cambrensis gives a vivid sketch of Dermot, who may, perhaps, be regarded as a typical prince of those ferocious and unscru- pulous days : " MacMurrough was a tall man of stature, and of a large and great body ; a valiant and bold warrior in his nation ; and by reason of his continual hal- looing and crying, his voice was hoarse ; he rather chose and desired to be feared than to be loved ; a great oppressor of his nobility, but a great advancer of the poor and weak." King Dermot Flies to England. MacMurrough sought refuge in England in 1168, hoping to find the King at Bristol, and to ask his assistance in recovering his kingdom. But Henry was in Aquitaine, and thither went Dermot MacMurrough, who contrived to obtain the King's promise of help, on condition that he should pay a vassal's homage to the English crown. Henry himself had no men or money to spare, but he knew that some of the warlike barons at home would be willing to avail themselves of his permission to assist MacMurrough, if they could by doing so advantage themselves. The King wrote a letter to "all his liege men, English, Norman, Welsh, and Scotch, and to all the nations under his dominion." In this document, intended for circulation among the nobles, he said : " As soon as the present letter shall come to your hands, know that Dermot, Prince of Leinster, has been received into the bosom of our grace and benevolence: wherefore, whosoever within our territories shall be willing to lend aid towards this prince as our faithful and liege subject, let such person know that we do 308 STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT. hereby grant to him for said purpose our licencQ and favour." So, for the sake of imposing the tax of Peter's pence, the Pope readily sanctioned the invasion by an English king of a country to which he had not the shadow of a claim ; and with no better excuse than that of restor- ing a king who had being driven from his dominions as a punishment for his atrocious crimes, Anglo-Norman warriors carried fire and sword into Ireland, and laid the foundation of that political supremacy which for more than seven hundred years has been the fruitful source of war, crime, secret con- spiracy, and open rebellion, and an undying animosity of creed and race. Soldiers of Fortune. MacMurrough returned to Bristol (then known as Bristow), the spot where he had landed when he fled from Ireland. There were adventurers and soldiers of fortune, waifs and strays of the sword,— pirates and brigands in reality, though they would have disdained the name, — to be met with, who would readily have taken service under even Avorse men than MacMurrough, if pay and plunder were assured ; but he desired the aid of influential and practised leaders, who could bring a large body of trained and well-equipped men-at-arms into the field. He knew the men he would have to encounter, and was too shrewd to suppose that he could recover Leinster with the assistance of a small and disorderly rabble of adventurers, any one of whom would be quite ready to desert him, and take arms on the other side, if the other side offered a better prospect of " loot." More valuable allies were at hand, and to them MacMurrough appealed. Some of the Norman nobles who had been invited to England to take part in the contests between William Rufus and his successor Henry I., and their brother Robert of Normandy, had been rewarded for their services by grants of confiscated estates ; and others were paid by permission to harry the Welsh and possess themselves of such territory as they could conquer. Foremost among these leaders, distinguished by valour and proficiency in military exercises, was Gislebert, or Gilbert de Clare, younger brother of Richard, Earl of Hertford, and created Earl of Pembroke in 1 138. He had under his command a trained body of soldiery, Normans and Brabangons chiefly (the latter esteemed the best infantry in Europe), but with some of English birth in the ranks. By the last- named he was known as Strongbow, an epithet descriptive of his skill in archery, and by that name his son was also known. Availing himself of the permission to attack the Welsh, he undertook an expedition by sea, and landed on the western coast of Pembroke. The Cambrian people were unable to repel the invaders, and most of them fled to the mountains ; those who attempted resistance were ruthlessly slaugh- tered. An extensive tract of country was soon taken possession of, and the conquerors shared the towns, houses, and domains among them. Strong forts to secure them against reprisals were erected ; and the Norman and Flemish captains became wealthy landowners. Their descendants were the aristocracy and county gentlemen of Pembrokeshire ; and the English soldiers, who, being fewer in number, obtained fewer of the prizes of conquest, were the ancestors of the small farmers and traders who for centuries after preserved their English habits and language in a district surrounded by Welshmen, and known as " Little England beyond Wales." Richard de Clare, " Strongbow the Second." Other Norman leaders followed the ex- ample of Strongbow, and established them- selves by the right of the strong arm in Wales. Irish traders who had visited the Welsh ports were struck with surprise at the sight of the massive armour of the soldiers and the powerful Flemish horses ; and on their return told wonderful stories of the strength and skill of the Avarriors they had seen. Mac- Murrough, who had known them by reputa- tion, now applied to them for aid, addressing himself to the most powerful — the second Strongbow, Richard de Clare, who had in 1 149 succeeded his father as Earl of Pem- broke, and was sometimes styled also Earl of Chepstow, or Strighul, from a castle belonging to his family in the neighbour- hood of that town. Thierry says of these Norman and Flemish adventurers : " In settling on the domains which they had so re- cently usurped, these men had not laid aside their old idle and dissipated manners for habits of order and quiet ; they consumed in gaming and debauchery the revenues of their lands, exhausting instead of ameliorating them, counting on fresh expeditions rather than upon domestic economy to repair their fortunes at some future day. They retained the spirit and the character of soldiers of fortune, ever disposed to try the chances of war abroad, whether on their own account or in the pay of another." Strongbow (by that name he is better known in history than as the Earl of Pem- broke) listened favourably to the proposals of MacMurrough. Others were ready to join in the adventure, among them Robert Fitz-Stephen and Maurice Fitz-Gerald, said to be sons of Nesta, a beautiful but frail Welsh princess, who had been the mistress 309 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. of Henry I., but afterwards married Gerald, lord of Carew, governor of Pembroke Castle. Maurice Fitz-Gerald was, as the name in- dicates, her son by this lawful marriage ; Fitz-Stephen was her son by Stephen de Marisco, or Maurice, constable of the castle of Cardigan. MacMurrough promised these young knights the city of Wexford, and two " cantreds " of land — a cantred being equiva- lent to the English " hundred," or that number of homesteads. Strongbow himself was to succeed MacMurrough as King of Leinster, and to marry his daughter Eva. These inducements were sufficient to procure the hearty co-operation of Strongbow and his friends, who looked forward to those opportunities which conquest offers in addi- tion to the stipulated rewards ; and an ex- pedition was at once planned. Knights, esquires, and archers to the number of four hundred, led by Robert Fitz-Stephen, who was accompanied by other able warriors, embarked, and directed their course to the Irish coast. Fitz-Stephen landed at Bannow, near Waterford, in May 1169; and a day afterwards Maurice de Prendergast, with a second and smaller detachment of invaders, disembarked a few miles farther north, near Wexford. Siege of Wexford. nVTacMurrough, who had reached Ireland 'shortly before, remained in concealment, -according to some authorities, in the Augus- "tinian monastery at Ferns, founded by him- self in one of his virtuous or politic moods. He was, however, rash enough to come out of his concealment before the arrival of his friends, and with a small force made an •;attempt to regain his kingdom. King Roderic and O'Ruarc easily subdued him, and, more merciful than might have been expected, considering the temper of the times, allowed him to retain ten cantreds of his former territory on condition of his hold- ing the land as the immediate vassal of -Hoderic. MacMurrough was willing enough to save his life on the easy terms of pro- mising to accept the conditions. Keeping his promise, however, was quite another matter. Directly he heard of the arrival of Fitz-Stephen and his other alhes, he joined them with about five hundred followers, 'whom he had contrived to collect ; and the ^united force laid siege to Wexford, a town founded by the Danes, and included in the kingdom of Leinster. The inhabitants of the town — hardy, seafaring folk — would have resisted, and thrown up intrenchments ; but the ecclesiastics of the town advised terms of capitulation, which were agreed to, and by that course the townspeople were probably spared from massacre, for the Normans and Flemings would no doubt have stormed the town, and mercy to the captured had no place in their military creed. A Kingly Cannibal, An excursion was then made into the dis- trict of Ossory, the prince of which was an old opponent of MacMurrough, — a not un- natural result perhaps of the fact that some years before that ferocious King had cap- tured the prince's eldest son and put out his eyes. The Ossorians at first defied their assailants, being secure in their bogs and woods ; but having imprudently ventured into open ground were cut to pieces. Three hundred bleeding heads were brought to MacMurrough, who, we are told, " turning every one of them, one by one, to know them, did then for jo.y hold up both his hands, and with a loud voice thanked God most highly." The sequel of the story, how- ever, scarcely increases an appreciation of MacMurrough's devout temper of mind. "Among these there was the head of one whom especially and above all the rest he mortally hated ; and he, taking up that by the hair, with his teeth most horribly and cruelly bit away his nose and lips." After this the whole district was subdued, with much ''murdering, spoiling, burning, and laying waste," and at last the prince sued for peace, and acknowledged himself the vassal of the cannibal monster MacMurrough. Normans and Natives. At first the Irish princes took little notice of the new comers — " set nothing by the Flemings," say the native annalists ; but they soon discovered the importance of the invasion. MacMurrough was in a short time at the head of five thousand men, in- cluding his allies, whose mail armour, long lances, crossbows, and powerful horses (protected by armour), were regarded with something like terror by the half-clad and poorly-armed natives. Giraldus Cambrensis, who visited Ireland shortly after the landing of Strongbow — if, indeed, he did not, as some writers on Irish history suppose, ac- company the expedition — and whose narra- tive is the best we possess, tells us that the most formidable weapons of the inhabitants of Erin were small steel axes, long slender javelins, and short and very sharp arrows. The Normans, preserved by their armour from injury by these weapons, closed with the natives ; and while the shock of the heavy chargers overturned the small horses of the Irish, they attacked with their heavy lances and their broadswords the men who had no defensive arms but light wooden shields and long tresses of horsehair " glibs," matted and hanging down on each side of the head. In some cases these glibs were formed of the men's own hair, allowed to STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT. grow, and forming a mass sufficiently thick to offer resistance to ordinary blows. Chief after chief submitted, and then the Irish King, Roderic, awoke to the peril of the situation. He summoned the princes to meet at Tara, and collected an army, with which he marched to Dublin. MacMurrough, in some alarm, retreated to Ferns, whither lie was followed by Roderic ; but jealousies and dissensions occurred among the Irish ■chiefs, as is usually the case in hastily -organized forces, when the supreme autho- rity is weak. The Ulster men returned to their homes ; others were, half-hearted in the ■cause ; and Roderic, an indolent and un- warlike man, agreed to acknowledge Mac- Murrough's authority. A private promise, it has been affirmed, was made that the foreign allies should be dismissed, and no more ■foreigners brought into the country. It is most likely that the restored King of Leinster had no intention to keep to this arrange- ment, and it may be taken as certain that Strongbow and his associates would not have -acceded to it. They had been brought into the country to please MacMurrough, and they would stay in it to please themselves, whether he liked it or not. Another contingent under Maurice Fitz- Gerald arrived, and King Dermot (we may give him that title now), thus strengthened, advanced to Dublin, the inhabitants of •which, after a brief defence, sued for peace. Donald O'Brien, who had married a daughter of Dermot, having rebelled against Roderic, joined his father-in-law ; and soon afterwards Strongbow, for whom the King had been 'waiting impatiently, arrived. The Earl of Pembroke, who was not in great favour at the English court, had prudently resolved to visit Normandy and ask the permission of Henry II. before starting for Ireland, think- ing that the English King might make it the -excuse for seizing his estates. The royal Teply, we are told, "was so carefully worded that the King could declare afterwards he either had or had not given the permission, whichever version of the interview might eventually prove most convenient to the royal interests." Strongbow thought it his interest to understand that permission had been granted ; but did not reach Ireland until several months after Fitz-Stephen. On the eve of his departure he received a peremptory order from Henry, forbidding him to leave England, but he paid no atten- tion to it. He landed at Dundonnell, near Waterford. His uncle, Hervey de Mont- marisco, had preceded him, and had cap- tured seventy of the principal citizens of Waterford, who were cruelly murdered by his followers, who first broke their limbs and then hurled them from a precipice into the sea. A Red-Handed Marriage. Strongbow lost no time, but on the day after his arrival besieged Waterford. The citizens displayed great bravery ; but the assailants made a breach in the walls, poured in, and a frightful massacre ensued : " They entered into the city, and killed the people in the streets without pity or mercy, leaving them lying in great heaps ; and then, with bloody hands, they obtained a bloody victory." In the midst of the slaughter Dermot arrived ; and at his request Strong- bow's soldiers suspended the carnage, — not because the King was merciful, but because he wished to strengthen the bond between himself and his powerful ally, by at once celebrating the marriage between Strongbow and Eva which had been arranged. The ceremony was performed in Waterford the day after the massacre, and the King rode by the side of his daughter through the streets, cumbered with mangled corpses, and the bleeding bodies of men, women, and children, dying of their wounds. Then the King, his ruthless son-in-law, the bride gained by slaughter, and the blood- stained mercenaries, proceeded northward to return to Dublin. But Roderic had al- ready repented of the treaty he had weakly assented to, and began to realize the im- portance of the arrival of the English troops on Irish soil. He collected a large army- near Clondalkin, about five miles to the south-west of DulDlin ; and the townsmen, en- couraged by his presence, prepared to renew the defence of the city. But the energetic English made forced marches over the Wex- ford hills, and reached Dubhn before they were expected. The citizens were struck with panic, and sent their archbishop, a man of eminent piety, afterwards canonized, Laurence O' Toole (or Lorcan O'Tuahal), the first prelate of Dubhn of Irish origin, to endeavour to negotiate terms of peace. He repaired to the camp of Dermot, but the English soldiers had no mind to await the result, and, led by Raymond, known as "le Gros," and Miles de Cogan, forced their way into ihe city, and another merciless butchery was perpetrated. This Raymond, notable alike for corpulency and cruelty, was the nephew of Fitz-Gerald, being the son of William, Lord of Cavan, his elder brother. Only His Son ! King Roderic, fearing an encounter with such formidable foes, retreated to Meath, and united his forces with those of O'Ruac, the husband of Devorgoil. He sent messengers to Dermot, demanding the fulfilment of the agreement, made at Ferns, for the dismissal of the English contingent, and threatening, in the event of the non-compliance of Dermot, EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Captive Citizens at Watekford. 31: STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT. to put to death his son Cormac, who had been left as hostage. Dermot valued Strong- bow and his allies far more than he did his own son, and, it is said, "laughed at the threat." Roderic was as good as his word, and the young prince was killed at Athlone. The Ard-righ Roderic then returned into Connaught, his path being followed for some distance by Strongbow, who burned and plundered as he went. Monte Marisco two districts on the coast between Wexford and Waterford, and to all the rest possessions proportioned to their rank and military talent. The rumour of these successes attracted other adventurers, who responded to the invitation to take arms under Dermot, and soon there was an influx of " adventurers and vagabonds of Norman, of French, and even of English race." They were warmly received, and presented with " The Curse of Cromwell." Re-established as King of Leinster by the aid of his indomitable mercenaries, Dermot was profuse in his rewards. No doubt liberality was in this case better policy than faithlessness and treachery, to which he was more accustomed, for his allies were quite able and wilHng to reward themselves. He gave to Fitz-StepLen and Fitz-Gerald the government and all the revenues of the town of Wexford and its suburbs ; to Hervey de lands and money. One of them was, pre- vious to his arrival, so impoverished that he was nicknamed Raymond le Pauvre (the poor). He accepted the designation as his surname, which in course of time was modi- fied into Power, the name of a powerful and wealthy family which exists to the present day, the descendants of the fortune-seeking Richard 313 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Death of Dermot ; Strongbow King OF Leinster. Dermot MacMurrough died miserably of a loathsome malady, at Ferns, in 1171. The native Irish princes had confed-erated against him, and, formerly denounced for his private crimes, he was afterwards regarded as a national enemy, who had brought a horde •of powerful foreigners into the country. The Irish believed that they had incurred Divine wrath, and that the Anglo-Norman invasion had been permitted as a just punishment. They thought to appease the anger of God by liberating all men of English race who had been made slaves in Ireland, after being ■carried off by pirates or bought for money, and effect was given to the resolution by a council of the chiefs and bishops of the country. Strongbow, immediately after the death of Dermot, proclaimed himself King of Leinster, and found himself face to face with many difficulties. The Irish subjects of the late King deserted him ; Dublin was attacked by a Scandinavian fleet, commanded by Hosculf, who had been driven out of the city, and escaped with difficulty, when it was attacked by the Anglo-Norman forces. The Danes were repulsed, their leaders captured, and Hosculf put to death. The Irish princes, exhorted by the ardent and patriotic arch- bishop O'Toole, united their forces, invited assistance from the Isle of Man, and so pressed Strongbow that he retreated to Dublin, which was blockaded by his oppo- nents, and the garrison and inhabitants re- duced to extremities from want of food. It seemed as if the object aimed at, the sub- mission and expulsion of the foreigners, would be allowed. Strongbow offered to capitulate, if permitted to hold the kingdom of Leinster as the vassal of Roderic ; but the Irish King would accept nothing short of the surrender of Dublin, Wexford, and Water- ford, and the immediate departure of the invaders from the country. The King of England Interferes. Another difficulty was experienced by Strongbow. Henry II. of England saw with feelings of alarm and jealousy that private adventure was likely to achieve a conquest which he had reserved for himself So long as Dermot lived, the English king had re- garded Strongbow and his adherents as mercenaries, \vhose successes might help further to disorganize Ireland, and so for- ward his own views. But the adventurers were now masters of the situation. Strong- bow was a king, and was every day adding to his strength by inviting desperate soldiers of fortune to the newly conquered country. Were Henry now to invade Ireland, he would probably have to encounter the able warriors who had been his own subjects ; and so critical were his own relations with the powerful and turbulent nobles of England, who despised him for his weakness in connec- tion with the murder of Becket and his sub- sequent abject penitence, that he could not hope to be able to equip an army fit to cope with the legions of Strongbow, should he prove defiant. Henry published a proclama- tion, ordering all his liege men in Ireland to return immediately to England, on pain of the forfeiture of all their lands and chattels, and of perpetual banishment. He forbade any reinforcements to be sent to Ireland, or any ship from any part of the English or Irish dominions to touch on the Irish coast on any pretext whatever. Strongbow, shut up at the time in Dublin, and opposed by the confederation of the Irish princes, could not defy the English King, but was resolved not to obey him. He tried concihation, and sent Raymond le Gros to England with the offer to the King of all the lands he had acquired in Ireland. He probably hoped that this course would save his English estates ; but Henry took no notice of the offer. At this juncture intelligence reached Dublin that Fitz-Stephen was closely besieged in Wexford. A crisis was imminent, and Strongbow resolved to make an attempt to cut through the foes who surrounded him. The attempt was unex- pected by the Irish, who fled in disorder, Roderick himself narrowly escaping capture. Before Strongbow could reach Wexford it had capitulated ; and when he approached the town was set fire to, and the inhabitants took refuge in a stockaded island. A Royal Visit. Affairs in England had an unfavourable appearance ; and Strongbow thought it well, at last, to obey the royal mandate to return. With some difficulty he obtained an interview with the King, and, by the offer of all the lands he had won in Ireland, obtained not only the royal sanction to his proceedings, but security for his own Welsh estates. A royal visit to Ireland was then resolved on ; and on the i8th of October, 1171, the King landed at Croch, or Crook, in the county of Waterford, in company with Strongbow and many other lords. Four hundred ships carried five hundred knights and four thou- sand men-at-arms. The Irish princes at first thought the English King was merely making a visit of state, to enforce justice among his own subjects ; but they were soon undeceived, finding that Henry's purpose was to claim supreme dominion. Enfeebled by internal dissensions, many of the Irish chiefs were not unwilling at first to accept him as a chief monarch who would exercise a nominal authority similar to that of the 314 STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT. native Ard-righs, but not interfere with individual rights. Macarthy of Desmond, Donnell O'Brien, King of Thomond, and •other princes, did homage to Henry, and swore fealty. Roderic, the chief monarch, received the English ambassador sent to him with respect, but the northern princes held aloof. Henry held a great court in Dublin ; and, representing that he had come to redress grievances (as yet he did not assume the title of King of Ireland), summoned an ecclesiastical synod — at which, however, very little was effected, the ecclesiastics caring little for his authority, and recognizing the Pope as their head in temporal as well as spiritual matters. The King held a royal court of justice at Lismore, to arrange for the government of the English colony. The military leaders already in the country, and those who had accompanied the King, had their own views as to the right of the native Irish to their own property, whatever pro- fessions it might be politic to make at the time ; and the King gratified them by putting the chief men in positions which they were not likely to fail to improve. Strongbow was appointed Earl Marshal ; Hugh de Lacy, one of the new arrivals, Lord Con- stable and Governor of Bristol, and De Wellesley (a famous name in our own times), royal standard-bearer. De Lacy is generally considered as the first Viceroy of Ireland, and he was installed in the Norman fashion, with the sword and cap of maintenance as the insignia of his dignity. To assist him to support his new position, Henry conferred on him the territory of East Meath, without , taking the trouble to ascertain whether the real owner, Tiernan O'Ruac, was willing to part with it. He naturally protested, and De Lacy proposed a conference at the hill of Tara. The parties, each attended by armed men, met ; but a dispute ensued, O'Ruac was. killed and mutilated, and his head having been exposed over the gate of Dublin, was afterwards sent as a present to King Henry. Strongbow attacked O'Dempsey, whose estates he wished to possess, at Offaley ; and Raymond le Gros made great acquisitions, not only of land, but of cattle and other spoil. We cannot, within the limits imposed upon us, relate all the raids made by the English soldiery, who were not always successful, and indeed at the battle of Thurles, in 1 1 74, sus- tained so serious a reverse that the encouraged native chieftains openly revolted, and the English might have been reduced to extremity, if Raymond le Gros, who had gone to England, had not returned with a strong force, and changed the situation. Henry now having made his peace with the Holy See, and obtained pardon for his .■share in the murder of A'Becket, produced the bull he had received more than twenty years before from Pope Adrian, and sum- moned a synod of the clergy at Waterford, where the document was read. The successes of the English increased, and Roderic sent to Henry ambassadors, who were received at Windsor at Michaelmas, 1175. The result was a treaty by which Henry was acknow- ledged as a supreme feudal sovereign, to whom Roderic paid homage ; and Henry bound himself to secure the sovereignty of Ireland to Roderic, excepting only Dublin, Meath, Leinster, Waterford, and Dungarvan. Miss Cusack, one of the latest and most careful of Irish historians, says, " Had Ire- land been governed with ordinary justice, the arrangement might have been advan- tageous to both countries. Roderic was still a king, both nominally and ipso facto. He had power to judge and depose the petty kings, and they were to pay their tribute to him for the English monarch. Any of the Irish who fled fi-om the territories of the English barons were to return ; but the King of Connaught might compel his own subjects to remain in his own land. Thus the English simply possessed a colony in Ireland ; and this colony in a few years became still more limited, while throughout the rest of the country the Irish language, laws, and usage prevailed as they had hitherto done." Prince John King of Ireland. The English nobles and military leaders, however, were irrepressible. They laid claim to lands belonging to Irish princes and chiefs, and many sanguinary contests ensued. Henry II., at a council held at Oxford in 1 177, solemnly conferred the title of King ot Ireland on his youngest son, John, then only eleven years old, and proceeded, in his name, to make new grants of territory to the English. Sir John Davies, Speaker of the first Irish Parliament, and author of " Discovery of the True Reason why Ireland has never been Subdued," tells us that " all Ireland was by Henry II. cantonized among ten of the Eng- lish nation ; and though they did not gain possession of one-third of the kingdom, yet in title they were owners and lords of all, as nothing was left to be granted to the natives." " More Irish than the Irish." In 1205 the earldom of Ulster was granted to Hugh de Lacy, and that is the earliest instance of the creation of an Anglo-Norman dignity in Ireland. In the course of the next century there occurred the remarkable historical phenomenon of a conquering race voluntarily assimilating themselves to the conquered. The English colonists became more and more estranged from their mother- country, more and more Irish in their habits EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and sympathies, even altering their names so as to get rid of Norman pecuharities. The De Burghs became Bourkes, or Burkes ; the Geraldines of Munster merged their family name in that of Desmond, and a younger branch of the family named themselves M'Shehy. Edmund Spenser, the poet, only in the latter part of the sixteenth century, says, " The MacMahons in the north were anciently English— to wit, descended from the Fitz-Ursulas, which was a noble family in England ; likewise the MacSweenies, now in Ulster, were recently the Veres in England, but they themselves, for hatred of England, so disregard their names." In truth there was very little national feeling among the English colonists. They were descended from adventurers whose estates had been achieved by their swords, and, whether of Norman, French, or Flemish descent, were very much disposed to make a nationahty wherever they could find an estate. For English authority they cared little ; and when fresh bands of colonists were sent out, in the hope of correcting this tendency to assimilate with the Irish, the new comers, or at least their children, soon followed the example of their predecessors. Mr. Froude says, " Ire- land was a theatre for a universal scramble of selfishness, and the invaders caught the national contagion, and became, as the phrase went, ipsis Hibernis Hiberniores (more Irish than the Irish)." The children of English parents were frequently entrusted to Irish foster-mothers ; and the native minstrels, harpers, and chroniclers ingratiated them- selves with the English nobles by praising their warlike achievements, and so, says the author of a letter to Thomas Cromwell, included in the State papers, " procuring a talent of Irish disposition and conversation in them." At the close of the thirteenth century, the English possessions in Ireland consisttfd of ten counties— Dublin, Louth, Kildare, Water- ford, Tipperary, Cork, Limerick, Kerry, Roscommon, and part of Connaught ; and the " Liberties" of Connaught and Ulster; Meath, Wexford, Carlow, and Kilkenny ; Thomond and Desmond. The powerful nobles who owned these " liberties" and were paramount in the counties, exercised almost regal authority, created barons and knights, administered iheir own laws in their own fashion, established courts for criminal and civil cases, appointed their own judges and sheriffs ; and '• although they builded castles and made freeholds, yet there were no tenures or services reserved to the crown, but the lords drew all the respect and de- pendence of the common people unto them- selves." They plundered their Irish neigh- bours, and of course inspired a feeling of open hostiHty. Districts outside the English possessions were known as "marches," and were occupied by native septs, who made Avhat reprisals they could, and in time acquired a taste for this predatory warfare, as in Scotland the Highland caterans enjoyed harrying the Lowland landholders. Quarrels of the Great Families. The great families quarrelled desperately atnong themselves. The historian Mac- Geoghan, in a note to the " Annals of Clonmacnois," observes that " there reigned more dissensions, strifes, wars, and debates between the Englishmen themselves, in the beginning of the conquest of this kingdom, than between the Irishmen, as by perusing the wars between the Lords of Meath, John Courcy, Earl of Ulster, WiUiam Marshal^ and the English of Meath and Munster, MacGerald (Fitz-Gerald), the Burke, Butler, and Cogan, may appear." The grandson of Strongbow, Richard Earl of Pembroke, was treacherously killed while attending a con- ference to which he was invited by Geoffrey de Marisco, who had been appointed Viceroy. As to the Irish princes, all means were considered fair by which they could be ensnared and killed. Thomas de Clare obtained from Edward I. the grant of the territory of Thomond, the fact that it was the property of the O'Briens not being taken into account. De Clare at first professed great friendship, and the too credulous Irish- man listened to him; "'they swore to each other all the oaths in Munster, on bells and relics, to be true to each other for ever." Very soon afterwards, De Clare, having got O'Brien into his hands, had him dragged to death between horses. It is gratifying to know that the murderous De Clare did not obtain the coveted kingdom, but was slain by some of the O'Briens, The O'Connors, chiefs of Offaly, and twenty-four other followers, were massacred by Peter de Bermingham, who had invited them to a banquet. Titles were assumed by, or conferred on, the powerful nobles : Hugh de Lacy became Earl of Ulster; Richard de Burgo Earl of Connaught ; the Fitz-Geralds were Earls of Desmond ; and the Butlers, who derived their name from an ancestor who accom- panied Henry I. to Ireland as chief butler, were Earls of Ormond. Strong castles were erected at Dublin, Athlone, Roscommon, and Randoun, for the purpose of keeping down the natives, who were taxed to support the garrisons. An Appeal to the Bruges of Scot- land. The Irish princes looked to the Bruces of Scotland as their allies and perhaps their deUverers from the oppressions of the Eng- 316 STRONGBOIV AND KING DERMOT. lish. In 1 31 5, after the Scotch, under Robert Bruce, had achieved such a victory at Ban- nockburn, Edward Bruce landed in Ireland with a force of six thousand men, and was at once joined by a strong Irish contingent. For a time it seemed that the enterprise would be successful, and Robert Bruce was proclaimed King of Ireland. Desirous to obtain the papal sanction for their proceed- ings, Donneil O'Neill, King of Ulster, and other princes wrote to the Pope on the part of the nation, explaining why they were anxious to transfer the kingdom to Bruce. They told the Pope he had been deceived by false representations ; spoke of " the sad remains of a kingdom which has groaned so long beneath the tyranny of English kings, of their ministers and barons, some of the latter, although born on the island, exercising the same extortions, rapine, and cruelties as their ancestors inflicted. The people had been obliged to take refuge, like beasts, in the mountains, and even there were not safe. There was only law for the English, none for the Irish ; and any Englishman could, as often happened, kill an Irishman of any rank, and seize his property. The Church had been despoiled of its lands and possessions by sacrilegious Englishmen." A few years later Pope John wrote to Edward III. to the effect that the object of Pope Adrian's bull had been entirely neglected, and that the " most unheard-of miseries and persecutions had been inflicted on the Irish." When Bruce appeared to be gaining ground, the De Lacys actually took side with him, so little of national feeling did they possess, and so ready were they to secure their own in- terests by attaching themselves to the win- ning party. Some of the Irish quarrelled among themselves, in the old fashion, and when one chief marched with his followers to join Bruce, another Irish chief made a raid on his territories. Dublin, in which a large number of Bristol folk had settled, held out so stoutly that Bruce relinquished the attempt to take it ; and then came the great battle near Dundalk, in which Edward Bruce was slain. Bermingham, the English com- mander, obtained the earldom of Louth, and the manor of Ardee, in return for Bruce's head, which was salted and sent to the King, Edward II. John de Lacy, and Sir Robert de Coulragh, who had sided with Bruce, were taken prisoners, and punished by being starved to death in prison. The English barons themselves perpetrated frightful cruel- ties in their quarrels between themselves and with the Irish. A new Viceroy, Sir Anthony de Lacy, was sent from England, and he hanged Sir William Bermingham and his son in the keep of Dublin Castle ; the Earl of Ulster starved to death Walter de Burgo a- 1 . f '' _fr- I" I 'I ' ;'tji"- <• * "- ', ^ , a-;-?' - j^:"^- .-^i' 'iC-:--' ^ 'Ihe Bristol Riots (J'aje 351 ) THE REFORM BILL OF 1832. THE STORY OF A GREAT NATIONAL VICTORY. " It will soon again be necessary to reform, that we may preserve, to save the fundamental principles of the Constitution by aJlerations in the subordinate parts. It will then be possible, as it was possible two hundred years ago, to protect vested rights, to secure every useful institution, every institution endeared by antiquity and noble associations, and at the same time to introduce into the system improvements harmonizing with the original plan." — Lord Macazday in 1828. Popular Expression of National Feeling — John Gilpin and his Runaway Horse "Reform" — Political Celebrities of 1831— Early Reform of the Representation — The Long Parliament — Cromwell — Clarendon's Opinion — Motion for Reform in 1745 — The Elder Pitt on Reform — Rotten Boroughs and Pocket Boroughs ; Seats held as Family Property — The Younger Pitt ; his Efforts for Reform— Opposition of Burke and Others — The Friends of the People and Charles Grey — Their Petition in 1793 — Hard Facts temperately put — The French Revolution and its Effects — Long Delayof Reform Measures— After the War — Reform agitation ; its Supporters and Opponents — Government Coercion — The Peterloo Massacre — Lord John Russell's Reform Proposition in 1819 — Lord Castlereagh— George Canning — The Wellington Administration ; Catholic Emancipation ; Changes — Sir Robert Peel and his Influence— A New Reign and a New Ministry ; New Prospects of Reform — Lord John Russell introduces the Bill ; its Provisions, Disfranchisement, Enfranchisement, and Redistribution — Various Speeches — Second Reading and Explanations- Dissolution and General Election — Reintroduction of the Reform Bill — Battle Royal — The Bill passes the Commons — Debate in the Lords^ The Bill rejected— General Excitement — Birmingham Meeting — Bristol Riots — The Bill again in the Commons — Battle in the Lords — Resignation of the Ministry — Return of Lord Grey — -The Bill passed — Conclusion. Popular Expression of National Feeling. 10 WARDS the end of 1831, when popular feeling throughout Eng- land had risen to a pitch of excitement unknown for many years, and all minds seemed engrossed with one burning question, there appeared in the windows of the print-shops a some- what remarkable political caricature. It was from the facile hand of the elder Doyle, the H. B., whose sketches were the pre- decessors of the cartoons of Punch, and occasioned much laughter from the humour and accuracy with which it portrayed the situation of the moment. It was entitled 337 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. "John Gilpin," and represents in the cha- racter of that well-known citizen of credit and renown, his most gracious Majesty- King William the Fourth. That somewhat unskilful rider is mounted on the horse "Reform," an animal not originally belong- ing to him, and with whose habits and temper he is quite unacquainted. In a rash moment he has determined to make this fiery steed his hobby; and in spite of all his cries of "fair, and softly," and defying curb and rein, the trot at which the good horse started has become a gallop ; and " Reform " has fairly taken the bit between its teeth and run away with its rider. John Bull, the keeper of the turnpike, has thrown the gate wide open for the headlong career of the horse "Reform," and seems mightily amused at the predicament of the rider, for whom he seems to anticipate no worse disaster than a thorough shaking and a fright, which will teach him caution for the future. That careful soul. Mistress Gilpin, with a face unaccountably like that of his grace the Duke of Wellington, surrounded by a party of friends, in whom the political student will recognise the leading Tories of the day, is peering out anxiously from the window of the Bell Inn, where she expects her lord and master to join her. But the royal John Gilpin involuntarily pursues his wild career towards the residence of the owner of "Reform," an aristocratic person- age of great experience, named Charles, second Earl Grey, to whom he will presently be able to say with undoubted truth and accuracy, " I came, because your horse would come." The historical bottles that dangle at his waist are seen, by the in- scriptions thereon, to be filled respectively with "Rotunda Pop" — the gas-charged beverage dispensed most liberally by pur- veyors at the Rotunda in the Blackfriars Road ; and with Birmingham froth, of which a certain orator, Hunt, may be cited as the most popular manufacturer at a noted shop known as the Birmingham Political Union. Four persons, two on horseback and two on foot, have joined in the chase, and are riding merrily at John's heels. They are among those who, in the original ballad, expressed their approval of the whole proceeding by crying out " Well done!" as loud as they could bawl. One of them has the long face and aquiline nose of Sir Francis Burdett; while in another, with his portly form and strong, square face, we recognise in a moment the redoubtable liberator, the great Daniel O'Connell him- self; while the remaining two are evidently Mr. Hume and Sir John Cam Hobhouse. To make the picture complete, there are the geese scattered in terror by John Gilpin when he threw the slush about. These respectable birds are hissing with out- stretched necks, in a paroxysm of mingled anger and consternation, as the galloping, reckless "Reform" threatens them with sudden extinction ; but — oh ! wicked wag of a caricaturist, oh ! derider of hereditary dignities, and vilifier of the powers that be — the head of each terrified goose is sur- mounted by a coronet, and H. B. has. evidently intended a reference to the alarm felt by the House of Peers. Above the- turnpike gate sits a gloomy bird immove- able as Edgar Poe's raven. The raven him- self is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance, not of Duncan, but of democracy, under the battlements of the British constitution; and indeed, there was at that period a certain learned and literary Croker, not uncon- nected with the Admiralty, who lifted up his parable against change and progress in a monotonously lugubrious manner. And to complete the shockingly profane allegory — in the corner lies overthrown and discon- solate an old orange woman, whose stall has suffered dire wreck in the headlong- career of "Reform," who must have " can- noned " against her; and the venerable dame has the features of that Tory of Tories, the man of many doubts, certainly neither "swift of despatch " nor "easy of access," the Ex-Chancellor Eldon. The caricature completely hit the taste of the town, and was appreciated accordingly. It exactly represented the attitude taken up by the various parties with regard to Reform — the speed at which one party was hurrying- on, voluntarily or involuntarily, the appre- hensions of another set of legislators, the ignominious overturn of a third. To under- stand the position of affairs at the crisis that preceded the passing of the Reform Bill of 1832, and to appreciate the manner in which that remarkable measure, after a voyage unparalleled in its dangers and vicissitudes, at last arrived safely in the harbour of royal appro uation, we must glance at the earlier stages of the question as they had presented themselves to former Parliaments. Early Reform of the Representa- tion ; The Long Parliament ; Crom- well. It was a remark of the great Napoleon that hunger was to be found at the bottom of the majority of political revolutions ; and, as in most of the observations of that selfish genius, there is much truth in the saying — which may, moreover, be applied to many bloodless revolutions and political changes. The reason is not far to seek. When men are tolerably prosperous, their minds are occupied with improving or enjoying that pro'sperity. It is in times of dearth, dis- THE REFORM BILL OF 1832. tress, and pressure, on the other hand, that they naturally turn to discuss the causes of the great social differences and apparent anomalies, and dissatisfaction with the existing state of things induces them to agitate for an alteration and a readjustment of the positions of the various classes, with the very natural object of bettering their own condition and obtaining for themselves a fairer share of the necessaries, and even the comforts of life. Again, when a great change has come, or a great event has occurred to shake the foundations of authority, the opportunity has been taken for altering the details of the constitution in the direction of the admission of a greater number of persons to power. For a period of change or of danger is naturally one in which it becomes desirable to secure the goodwill of the bulk of the community, which is best done by the offer of political influence. Accordingly, long before the great con- test that was fought out in the first year of the reign of William IV., the question of the better representation of the English people in Parliament by an adjustment and redistribution of seats, which should bring about an equitable proportion between the number of members accorded to any part of the country and the number of the con- stituents and the magnitude of the interests they represented, had seriously engaged the attention of the government. Thus we find that more than two centuries ago the Long Parliament, that remarkable assembly destined to endure such strange vicissitudes of fortune, and to touch the heights and depths of honour and disgrace, had its attention called to the anomalies that even then existed in the representation of the nation in the House of Commons, and made some practical changes in consequence of a measure that may be looked upon as the very first of Reform Bills — giving represen- tatives to Halifax, Manchester, and Leeds, that were becoming important, and taking away the members from places which had fallen into decay in the course of time — while the number of members for London and the counties was increased, and the right of franchise was bestowed upon all owners of land. We are told by Clarendon, too, how Cromwell, when he summoned the Protectorate Parliament, "though he did not observe the old course in sending writs out to all the little boroughs throughout England which used to send burgesses (in which there is so great an inequality that some single counties send more members to Parliament than six other counties do), he seemed to take a more equal way, by ap- pointing more knights for every shire to be chosen, and fewer burgesses, whereby the number was much lessened; and yet, the people being left to their own election, it was not thought an ill temperament, and was then generally looked upon as an alteration fit to be more warrantably made, and in a better time." Here we have a distinct and real reform; in speaking of which, Mr. Molesworth, in his exhaustive "History of the Reform Bill of 1832," refers us to White- lock's Diary, from which he extracts the words: "Wednesday, Dec. 6: Debates about disfranchisement of certain boroughs, and transfer of their franchise to other places," and the approving tone of Clarendon's remarks seems to indicate that this "altera- tion fit to be made" was considered the natural and national means of curing an evil that had grown up in the course of time in the increment of some places and the decay of others. The projects of Cromwell were not likely to be carried out by the sucessors to his power, who were not ashamed to tumble his corpse out of its grave to satiate their sorry vengeance. Nor was the earlier Hano- verian period, when bribery and corruption were reduced to a science, likely to be pro- pitious to measures of reform. It was not until 1745 that we find the subject revived in the House of Commons. In that year. Sir Francis Dashwood, in proposing an amendment to the Address on the calling together of Parliament, proposed a measure of Reform as a means of securing the affec- tions of the people to the throne. " It should be our speedy care to frame such bills as may effectually secure to His Majesty's subjects their undoubted right to be freely and fairly represented in Par- liament, frequently chosen, and exempted from undue influence of any kind," said Sir Francis, who was indeed a sanguine man if he hoped that any such measure could be carried out in such an age. His motion, indeed, was negatived with- out a division, being strenuously opposed by the elder Pitt, who declared the time — when rebellion was abroad in the land— to be utterly unfitted for the consideration of such questions. " Shall we employ our- selves," he inquired, " in framing bills to guard our liberties from corruption when we are in danger of losing them and everything that is dear to us by the force of arms ? Would not this be like a man's amusing himself ■^ith making regulations to prevent his serN^ants from cheating him at the very time that thieves were breaking into his house ? ' ' Certainly the year of the '45 was an unpropitious time for measures of home policy ; and that the great commoner was not unaware of the anomalies in the Parliamentary system which left many thousands of people unrepresented, while 339 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. boroughs were maintained that represented no one but the owners, is shown by the tenor of his speech on the American Stamp Act, in which, speaking of these boroughs, he used the remarkable words: "This is what is called the rotten part of the Con- stitution. It cannot continue a century. If it does not drop, it must be amputated." The "great commoner" was right. The decayed limb of the constitution was amputated just sixty-six years after he uttered the prediction. Rotten Boroughs and Pocket Boroughs; Seats Held as Family Property. There was good and sufficient ground for Pitt's denunciation of the " rotten part of the Constitution," and he himself had only to cite his own method of entrance into Parliament as an instance that the House of Commons was not an assembly that adequately represented the people of England. His grandfather. Governor Pitt, of Madras, had made a large fortune in India at a time when the Pagoda tree yielded its golden fruit abundantly to any official of the East India Company who would be at the trouble to shake it. Among the valuable results of his Indian career was the celebrated gem known as the Pitt diamond, and purchased by the Regent of France. On his return to Europe, we are told, he "bought estates and rotten boroughs ; and two of these peculiar pieces of property, in the shape of the seats for Old .Sarum and Oakhampton, descended in due time to his eldest grandson, Thomas, the ■elder brother of William Pitt. At the general election of 1734, Thomas Pitt being returned both for Oakhampton and Old Sarum, transferred the seat for the latter "borough to his younger brother William ; and as the nominee to a "family seat" did Pitt first make his appearance on the benches at Westminster. In the same way Burke entered Parliament as the nominee of Lord Rockingham for one of his lordship's seats ; and Pitt himself, with all his popularity with the nation, was unable to establish a permanent ministry, until, by his coalition with the Duke of Newcastle, his former antagonist, he had brought to his side the tremendous borough influence the Duke had been enabled to array against him. Among the accusations brought against the unpopular Anglo-Indians, or "nabobs" of the last century, not the least significant arose from the propensity to employ part of their quickly-acquired wealth in the pur- chase of Parliamentary as well as of landed property. " They raised the price of every- thing in their neighbourhoods, from fresh 340 eggs to rotten boroughs." In some of the places which returned a member, or even two members, to Parliament, there were only a few persons who had the suffrage, and these were entirely in the hands of the great landed proprietors, giving their votes as unhesitatingly as they paid their rent. In others, there were absolutely no voters at all. In Cornwall, especially, there were a number of wretched boroughs, such as St. Michael's and Grampound, in which purity of election was not even affected. In others, such as Sutton, in Surrey, there was abso- lutely no constituency left. The consequence of this was that the majority of the members of the House of Commons were returned by an absurdly small number of electors ; while great and populous towns, contributing in a large measure to the wealth and prosperity of the nation by their manufacture, trade, and commerce, were shut out altogether from all share in the representation. The second William Pitt, in the earlier part of his career, made several efforts to procure a certain measure of Parliamentary reform. In 1782 he moved for a select committee ; and in a full house the motion was lost by only twenty votes. In the next year he made an attempt to get a bill passed for disfranchising boroughs con- victed of notorious bribery; and in 1785 brought forward a scheme for purchasing from a certain number of small boroughs (or rather from their proprietors) their right of returning- members, and bestowing the seats thus bought upon important towns. This scheme failed ; and soon afterwards the excesses of the French Revolution frightened the Parliamentary leaders from any renewal of the attempt. Burke, in par- ticular, once the ardent friend of "taxation and representation," was uncompromising in his opposition to any change in the constitution ; and strenuous and vehement in all his political views and actions, went far beyond the Tories themselves in de- nouncing all innovation as fraught with danger to the very existence of the British monarchy. The Friends of the People, and Charles Grey; their Petition. While the French Revolution, with its tremendous changes, its crimes, and its audacity, inspired the ruling classes with hatred and fear, it produced a very different effect upon the community at large, among whom it excited hope of gain to be achieved, and great alterations to be won by persist- ency, firmness, and union. Accordingly there was formed the powerful association that took the name of the "Friends of the People," and had for its great object the achievement of Parliamentaiy Reform ; and THE REFORM BILL OF 1832. the society was fortunate in numbering among- its friends a statesman, who, at the early age of twenty-three years, had been looked upon as one of the leaders of the Whig or Liberal party, and had been as- sociated with such giants as Fox and Burke, and the brilliant Sheridan, and the astute Windham in managing the impeachment of Warren Hastings. This was Mr., after- wards Earl Grey, who continued, from the beginning of his long political career to its glorious close, to make Parliamentary Re- form one of the main objects of his per- severing and well-considered exertions. In 1793 Mr. Grey presented to the House of Commons a petition " signed only by the members of the society of the Friends of the People, associated for the purpose of obtaining a Parliamentary Reform." In this document the state of the representation, and the grievances arising therefrorn, are very fully and temperately set forth. "Though the terms in which your peti- tioners state their grievance may be looked upon as strong," says the document, "yet your honourable House is entreated to be- lieve that no expression is made use of for purpose of offence," — and, indeed, the tone of the whole is earnest, quiet, and manly. The chief points of which the petitioners complain are these : — That the number of representatives assigned to different coun- ties was grossly disproportionate to their comparative extent, population, and trade ; that the elective franchise was distributed in such a partial manner, and in many in- stances the electors were so few, that the majority of the House was absolutely chosen by fewer than fifteen thousand electors, the greater number of the people being ex- cluded from the right of voting ; and that this right, where possessed, was regulated by no uniform or rational principle. The petition then called attention, in verification of its complaints, to the fact that Rutland and Yorlcshire, the smallest and the largest county in England, had the same amount of representation, and that Cornwall had so many borough members as to outnumber Yorkshire, Rutland, and Middlesex together in the representation ; while Cornwall and Wiltshire sent more borough members to Parliament than York- shire, Lancashire, Warwickshire, Middle- sex, Worcestershire, and Somersetshire taken together. To substantiate the case concerning the restricted number of elec- tors, it was shown in thirty-five boroughs the elections were a mere matter of form, and that for these thirty-five boroughs, where the right of free voting was practically non- existent, seventy members were returned ; that ninety members were returned, in ad- dition, by forty-six places having fewer than fifty voters in each ; thirty-seven more members by nineteen places with fewer than a hundred voters each ; fifty-two members by places with fewer than two hundred voters each ; and twenty more members by counties in Scotland with fewer than a hun- dred electors ; and ten more for counties with fewer than two hundred and fifty elec- tors in each ; fifteen Scottish districts of boroughs, in addition, none of them con- taining a hundred and twenty-five voters, sent a member each to Parliament ; and after this fashion two hundred and ninety- four members, forming a majority of the entire House of Commons, as it was then constituted, were chosen, and "enabled to decide all questions in the name of the whole people of England and Scotland." Many other grievances were pointed out ; such, for instance, as the anomaly that prevented Protestant Dissenters from voting (by the action of the Test Act), while they could still have seats in Parliament, and thus might sit in the House of Commons as representatives of the very places where they were not eligible as electors. The case put forward in the petition was an exceedingly strong one, and the peti- tioners offered to prove every part of it. But by this time Mr. Pitt had taken up a position hostile to reform ; and after a long discussion the question was put aside, though supported by Fox, Sheridan, Francis, and other influential men ; nor, though Mr. Grey brought it forward again in 1795 and 1797, was he enabled to make way with it. The time of the great war with France was no convenient season for discussing ques- tions of reform. After the War ; Reform Agitation ; ITS Supporters and Opponents, In 1815, after Waterloo, the great struggle was ended, and with the return of peace came events that speedily turned men's minds once more in the direction of the reform of the representation. The landed proprietors had profited by the war, through the monopoly it put into their hands for the supply of agricultural produce. Rents had consequently risen to the great advantage of the landlords, while the farmers found high prices exceedingly satisfactory to themselves. When the peace put an end to all this, an attempt was made to con- tinue the period of advantage to the landed interest by the system of Protection to the agricultural interest by a high duty on foreign corn, thus favouring the landed interest at the expense of the community generally. This was sufficient to revive the Reform question. The manufacturing prosperity of Birmingham and various other towns had 341 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. been injured by the cessation of the demand for different articles of manufacture. Bread was dear, and work scarce, and the artisans and miners were intelligent enough to see where they were at a disadvantage. Various Reform associations came into being. The miners of Bilston threatened to come up to London and lay their case before the Prince Regent, each man sleep- ing in his blanket as they bivouacked by the way — whence they obtained the name of Blanketeers. Popular agitators were not wanting to fan the flame of popular discon- tent ; and a large section of the press lent its aid by putting forward, not always temperately, but generally with force and eloquence, the grievances of partial repre- sentation and non- representation, and insisting on the neces- sity of a speedy and complete remedy. The Government adopted a policy of coercion and repres- sion — sharp ening the sword of the law against libellers and .malcontents gener-ally, and seeking to inter- fere with the rights of public meeting and ■ discussion. One pub- lic agitator, known as "Orator Hunt," was ■ especially obnoxious to -Tthem ; and it was in ar- resting Hunt at a great Reform meeting held in St. Peter's Field, Manchester, that was perpetrated the cruel and stupid blunder known as the Peterloo Massacre. A body of yeomanry displayed their zeal in the cause ►of order by charging repeatedly upon an un- armed mob of men, women, and children, "^killing some, and wounding between three -and four hundred. Inquiry into this affair, indignantly demanded by a large number, -was refused by the Government, who en- '..dorsed the action of the stupid yokels with .emphatic approval. A bitter feeling was thus engendered, that widened the breach between the agricultural and manufacturing classes, and the determination to have Re- form increased throughout the country. There seemed no great hope of change for the better so long as George TV. remained on the throne. That monarch had durmg his earlier days leaned towards the Whigs, from among whom he chose his friends. But from the day when he became Regent Duke of Wellington, he had, with indecent haste, cut himself adrift from his former associates, and had maintained in office the Tories he found there. It was thus under very depressing circumstances that Lord John Russell, in i8ig, introduced into the House of Commons the question fof Reform. Lord Castlereagh got rid of the question for a time by a half-promise that the Government would one day take up the matter, and thus for some years Reform was successfully shelved. George Canning, who on many questions was far in advance of his colleagues, especially ridiculed the fears loudly ex- pressed by the Tory majority of that day, that every change must necessarily weaken, if not destroy, the foundations of the monarchy. He once happily compared the British constitution to Mother Hubbard's dog, who, after being considered dead, was found laughing when his mistress came back with his coffin from the undertaker's. But he had a strong prejudice against Reform ; and indeed, his tenure of power, too quickly closedby his lamented death, wastoo shortfor any attempt in that di- rection . For a time his colleagues maintained themselves in power under Lord Goderich, to be then succeeded by a far stronger ad- ministration — that of the Duke of Welling- ton, and his friend and adviser, Sir Robert Peel, both of them uncompromising opponents of Re- form. The Wellington Administration; Catholic Emancipation; Changes. It may be doubted whether his political career, on the whole, increased the great Duke's reputation; unmatched in the field, he was frequently at a disadvantage in the cabinet. His military career had given something of acerbity to a character imperious by nature. The Duke was, by habit and temperament, as he was by birth, an aristocrat, and loved to concen- trate all power and influence in the hands of the higher class. He had snubbed 342 THE REFORM BILL OF 1832. Canning in a way equally ungracious and unfair, refusing to co-operate with him, and contributing, it is said, not a little to the embarrassments and cares that are sup- posed to have shortened that statesman's life. After declaring that he should be mad to think of being Prime Minister, he within ;a short period accepted that office at the request of the King, and expected to find subordinates rather than colleagues in the ■other members of the cabinet, from whom he expected the deference and obedience which he had been accustomed to receive from his generals in the old Peninsular days. Thus he promptly got rid of Mr. Huskisson, .a man of great ability and reputation, whom .he had taken over from the Canning ad- ministration, because Huskisson chose to vote independently, in accordance with a pledge previouslygiven ■on the question of the •disposal of the seats taken from East Ret- ford, disfranchised for flagrant corruption. He astonished the nation and alienated some of the high Tory party soon afterwards by his conduct on the great question of the admission of the Ro- man Catholics to Par- liament. Daniel O'Connell had made ''■' Catholic emancipa- tion ' ' the lever with which he proposed to move the Parliamen- tary world ; and had Tnade use of his won- derful abilities as an agitator with such «ffect, that it became manifest to the Duke that concession on this subject or rebellion in Ireland were the alternatives he had to face. The good sense of the Duke made liim choose what he considered the lesser evil ; and he determined to carry a measure for Catholic emancipation, winning a re- luctant consent from the King, who, it is said, never entirely forgave him for giving way to popular feeling in this matter. Among those of the Duke's side who were scandalised in this matter was Sir Charles Wetherell, the Attorney-General, who re- fused to draw the Bill for the Catholic •emancipation, and was accordingly dis- missed from his office. Indeed, the violence of his language on the occasion, when he •declared publicly, " he would not defile pen or waste paper by such an act of folly, Lord Brougham, and so forfeit his character for sense and honesty," precluded his being retained as Attorney-General in the Wellington cabinet. Great was the indignation of the Tories, and of the greater number of the clerical supporters of the Duke, churchmen and dissenters alike, at this act of Catholic emancipation. Peel thought it right to resign his seat for Oxford ; and on pre- senting himself for re-election was beaten by a true-blue Tory and honest country gentleman, Sir Robert Inglis, to whom he was, to revive Canning's famous compari- son, " like London to Paddington, or Pitt to Addington." A New Reign and a New Ministry; New Prospect of Reform. Catholic emancipa- tion was carried in 1829. It had cost the ministry many sup- porters amongst the Tories, and had but half conciliated the Whigs, who wanted not only concessions, but participation in office. There was also great distress in the country, great dearth of food, and want of employment. At the beginning of 1830, the King's speech made no allusion, or only in a cursory manner, to theprevailingdistress; I and again the question of Reform came to the front. Lord John Rus- sell and the Marquis of Blandford brought forward motions on the subject. It was evidently one of those coming events that cast their shadows before. There was no hope, however, that the King, who had consented to Catholic emancipation with extreme reluctance, 1 would consent to any further measure likely to decrease his power. But in June of that ' same year he died, somewhat suddenly, ; and his next surviving brother, the Duke ' of Clarence, became King William the Fourth. The new King had not the dislike to the Whigs and their measures that had characterised George IV., nor was he so , entirely opposed to change. A general election was approaching, and various signs showed that Reform would be a leading topic at the hustings. The July revolution in France, resulting in the overthrow of the 343 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. foolish and reactionary Charles X., also ex- cited the public mind. As for the Duke, be declared his sentiments with perfect frank- ness. The trumpet gave no uncertain sound, andmenprepared them for the battle accord- ingly. Earl Grey had made some remarks on the necessity of Reform. The Duke de- clared that he saw no necessity for any measure of the kind ; that the country had never been better governed than it was then ; and — what was undeniable — that the representation of the people contained a large body of the property of the country, in which the landed interests had a prepon- derating influence. " Under these circum- stances," said the sturdy Duke, " I am not prepared to bring forward any measure of the description alluded to by the noble lord. I am not only not prepared to bring forward any measure of this nature, but I will at once declare that as far as I am concerned, as long as I hold any station in the govern- ment of the country, I shall always feel it my duty to resist such a measure when proposed by others." This declaration was the death blow of the ministry. The unpopularity of the ministry was increased when they spread what was declared to be a groundless alarm, by which the funds were seriously affected. The new King was to have dined with the Lord Mayor at Guildhall, but was induced at the last moment to defer his visit on the representa- tion that an attack might be made upon him by the crowd. This was stigmatised as an attempt on the part of the ministry to involve the King, whom the nation regarded with affection, in their own unpopularity ; and when, soon afterwards, Mr. Brougham, then perhaps the most influential of all the party pledged to Reform, announced his intention of bringing forward a sweeping measure, the Wellington government re- signed ; whereupon William IV. entrusted Earl Grey with the task of forming a ministry, and it was felt that the time for a great struggle on the Reform question had come. Lord John Russell Introduces the Bill. It was necessary to find some place in the new arrangement for Mr. Brougham, if his support of any Reform measure but one introduced by himself was to be counted on. His lucrative practice and great personal power rendered it most unlikely that he would accept any subordinate appointment ; ac- cordingly, on the suggestion of the King him- self, the Lord Chancellorship was offered to and accepted by him. He was raised to the peerage as Lord Brougham and Vaux. Lord Althorp became Chancellor of the Exchequer, Lord Durham, Lord Privy Seal, Lord Melbourne, Secretary of 5tate for the Home Department, and Lord John Russell (without a seat in the cabinet) Paymaster of the Forces, while Sir James Grahami became First Lord of the Admiralty. Some disappointment was felt that the new cabinet did not at once introduce- measures of retrenchment in view of the prevailing distress ; but their predecessors, had been sufficiently economical, and the King was exceedingly jealous of any interference with his prerogatives in the matter of the civil list. He was propitiated by very liberal arrangements, including an annuity of ^100,000 a year to the Queen, if she survived him. The task of preparing- the great measure of the session, the Reforrrt Bill, was entrusted to a committee, including- Lord John Russell, Lord Durham, and Sir James Graham. It was on the ist of March, 1831, that Lord John Russell brought up the Bill with which his reputation was to be identified ;; and from that day until the 5th of June, it was the occasion of as hot a wordy strife as had ever been waged within the walls, of the House of Commons. All the promi- nent men of the House had their say — orh the side of Reform, Lord John Russell^ Joseph Plume, Daniel O'Connell, and many others ; on that of its opponents, Sir Charles- Wetherell, Sir Robert Inglis, Sir Robert Peel, and their followers. Lord John Russell was a man peculiarly- fitted for the onerous duty he had under- taken. As a member of the ducal house of Bedford, he could safely be trusted not to^ bring forward anything revolutionary or subversive of the rights of property ; while on the other hand his reputation as a culti- vated man, with a mind enlarged by foreign^ travel as well as by study, was a guarantee- against the narrowness that can see only the advantage and interests of a single class. He began his speech in a tone of studied moderation, declaring that the ministry wished to produce a Bill satisfac- tory to all moderate men, neither agreeing- with the bigotry of those who would reject all reform, nor with the fanaticism of men wedded to one plan, and one plan onl)^ — - hoping to amend abuses on the one hand^^ and to avoid convulsion on the other. He; painted with considerable strength and humour the astonishment of a foreigner, anxious to understand the English systemi of representation, who should be taken to. see a ruined mound and a stone wall, and a. park containing no houses, and told that each of these — the mound, the park, and the wall — returned two members to Parlia- ment ; and the still greater surprise of the stranger, on finding that great opulent manufacturing and commercial towns sent 344 345 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. no representatives at all ; his greatest astonishment of all on witnessing- the un- blushing bribery, the money openly given and received as the price of votes, that formed a part of many a popular election. His plan was to disfranchise sixty-two boroughs, in each of which the number of inhabitants was less than 2,000 ; to reduce forty-seven other boroughs, where the in- habitants numbered less than 4,000, to one member each ; and to take from Weymouth two of its four members. Thus 168 mem- bers would be deprived of seats. The right of voting was very complicated, including burgage holders, capital burgesses, free- men, potwallopers, and various other voters holding by strange and obscure tenures. Of these complicated rights the Bill proposed to get rid, and to give the vote to householders, rated at ^10 per annum and upwards, copyholders to the value of ;^io a year to have a vote for the county ; and under certain restrictions, holders of leases for twenty-one years and upwards of the value of ;^5o to have the same right. Seven large towns, including- Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield, were to send two members each to Parliament. Twenty towns, including Blackburn, Halifax, Gateshead, Brighton, Kidderminster, and Huddersfield, were to send one member •each. Eight new members were to be given to the metropolis to sit as representative of the Lower Hamlets, Holborn, Finsbury, and Lambeth. The counties were also to receive additional members. There were to be two representatives for each of the ridings of Yorkshire, and two additional members for each of twenty-six counties, including Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Kent, Leicester, Lincoln, Wilts, etc., in each of which the population exceeded 150,000. The Bill also contained provisions for lessen- ing the ruinous expense of elections — a very necessary point ; for in Yorkshire, at that time, the expense of bringing voters to the poll at an election amounted to nearly ;^i5o,ooo ; and in Devonshire many of the voters had to travel forty miles from home to record their suffrages — no small hardship in those pre-railway days. In Scotland, every £\o copyholder was to have the suffrage, and •every ten-year leaseholder for ;^5o; the representation of counties and boroughs was there, and in Ireland also, to be read- justed ; and in the latter country all ^10 householders or landholders were to have a vote. The numbers of the constituencies in some of the English boroughs were ludicrously small, and the places themselves were so entirely under the influence of a proprietor that an election in one of them was a mere form. Bewdley had thirteen voters ; Droit- wich twelve ; Launceston fifteen ; Marl- bofough twenty-one ; Buckingham thirteen ; Sutton, in Surrey, five ; Bramber twenty. Many others had so small a number, that the bribing of a whole constituency at a given price per vote became a very simple matter. Lord John Russell sat down amid loud cheers, after warmly recommending the Bill to the consideration of the House, as fraught with good effects, and conducing alike to the moral and the political improve- ment of the country. Speeches For and Against the Bill ; The Two Sides of the Question. It would seem that Lord John's Bill did not contemplate ariy great or sweeping change in the constitution, but rather sought to clear the ship of the state of the barnacles that obstructed its progress ; nevertheless, the first gentleman who rose to oppose it pronounced it ^^ Revoluiion ; a revolution that will overturn all the natural influence of rank and property." This alarmist was Sir Robert Inglis, the member for Oxford, who had replaced Sir Robert Peel in that ancient constituency. The gist of his argument was, that a member of Parliament does not represent a consti- tuency, but has to consider the affairs of the country and the good of the Church. He utterly denied that representation had ever been founded on the basis of taxation and population, and declared openly that most of the small boroughs which it was sought to disfranchise had been called into existence to please favourites ; for instance. Old and New Sarum, by Edward I., and Newport, Isle of Wight, by Queen Elizabeth. He also urged the argument that Lord Chatham, Mr. Burke, Mr. Canning, Mr. Fox, and many other eminent men had first entered Parliament by being put in, by the possessors, for such boroughs as Old Sarum, Wendover, and Appleby. He declared that the House, as it existed, represented all interests and admitted all talents. Lord Althorp's speech in favour of the Bill was not distinguished by any special merit, either in manner or matter, and, indeed, his lordship shone much more as a thoroughly honest and dependable working member than in any position where readiness and brilliancy were required. Mr. Hume, the member who always had an eye to economy, and habitually vexed the soul of the Chancellor of the Exchequer when the yearly estimates appeared, wel- comed the Bill cordially, as likely to give large satisfaction to all true reformers. He called it a manly measure. "Orator" Hunt gave the measure a very cold wel- 346 THE REFORM BILL OF 1832. come, as a tardy instalment of incomplete justice ; declaring that everything- he had heard said in the house had been said by Lancashire weavers twenty years before. He waxed indignant at the supercilious Whiggism that designated the toiling mil- lions as "the rabble," and told the house that at Ilchester (where, as he observed with a touch of humour, he had been in prison for two years and six months), the voters made it a point to get into debt to the amount of £2,^^ before each election, knowing that those debts would be liqui- dated for them. "Is that the class of men," he asked, "which the House is told represents the property of the country?" He was very hard on Sir Robert Inglis' *' revolution," and sarcastically asked ■whether rotten boroughs were a part of the constitution ? And in spite of all efforts to interrupt and put him down, the indomit- able orator insisted in making the house listen to the miserable story of the Man- chester massacre, and reminded honourable members that the imprisonment of thirty months, about which they made so merry, had been suffered by him for advocating the cause of Reform which they had now met together to discuss. Sir Charles Wetherell was somewhat heavily facetious against the Bill, describing himself as making his last dying speech for condemned Boroughbridge, comparing Al- thorpe and Co. to Cromwell, Fairfax, Lilburne and Co., declaring that the scheme "now to be carried out had been introduced by the regicides. In allusion to "Colonel Pride's purge," in the days of Cromwell, he proposed to call the proposed Reform measure "Russell's purge," and the joke was hugely relished % honourable gentle- men at least on one side of the house, who received it with vociferous laughter and cheers. Sir Charles found the principle of the Bill "republican at the basis," and ^finished with a renewed reference to arbi- trary violence, Cromwell and Pride's purge. A sensible speech of Lord Palmerston's must have contrasted somewhat oddly with Sir Charles Wetherell' s impassioned de- clamation. It pointed out that concession was necessary ; and that with increase of delay would come enforced increase of concession, and advised honourable gentle- men to submit to the inevitable with as gooda grace as possible. The otherprincipal speakers were Sir Robert Peel, gravely and sententiously opposed to the Bill, and Mr. Stanley, afterwards Earl of Derby, " the Rupert of debate," who spoke strongly and trenchantly in its favour, and pointedly asked whether such men as Lord John Russell, Earl Grey, and Lord Althorp, had not a stake in the country, or whether they could have any object in advocating revo- lutionary or subversive changes. Mr. O'Connell showed the same power of mov- ing and influencing large audiences that he already had exhibited in his own country. He asked those gentlemen who persisted that this old system had worked well, whether they thought the agricultural popu- lation would be very ready to give testimony in its favour, — whether such a fact was reflected from the incendiary fires which lately blazed through the counties, and whether such would be the statement we should receive if we inquired from the un- fortunate men who fill our gaols, on account of the late disturbances in the country ? He made a great impression. After more than seventy members had spoken, the number of orators for and against Reform being nearly equal, leave was given to bring in the Bill, which was formally read for the first time on the 14th of March. Troubles and Difficulties; Opposi- tion Tactics. The Bill was now fairly launched ; and the length}'' debates and exhaustive speeches that had preceded the first reading had at least one advantage, — the attention of the country was thoroughly called to the sub- ject, and the Reform Bill was the one topic of discussion throughout the three kingdoms. The whole community was divided into two hostile camps of reformers and anti- reformers. The Tories looked upon the measure with mingled hatred and terror, and lugubriously dated the ruin of England from the day when it should become law ; the Whigs regarded it with complacency, as a timely concession to public necessity, by which they would avoid a worse thing that might come upon them ; while the Radicals, though they thought the measure did not go far enough — for it gave them neither the ballot nor triennial Parliaments — were yet glad to welcome it on the principle of being thankful for small mercies. The opponents of the Bill were many and powerful, and, naturally enough, comprised those classes who were advantageously placed in the existing state of things, and accordinglyrecoiled from the idea of change. The great landowners saw their territorial influence threatened, and opposed the Bill tooth and nail. The nobility detected in it, moreover, a dangerous levelHng tendency, calculated to injure those time-honoured institutions under which the labouring communit}^ felt " the kindly pressure of the social chain " ; the clergy, almost to a man, opposed the measure with tongue and pen, and with an intemperate vehemence that recoiled upon themselves ; even the great 347 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. middle class engaged in commerce, and the more opulent shopkeepers and trades- men were opposed to it, as calculated to upset established landmarks, and thus to injure trade ; while the Army, the Navy, the legal profession, and the Universities were generally enrolled among its uncom- promising foes. But against all this opposition was to be set the enthusiastic support of the mass of the people, who, thoroughly impressed with the idea that they were being wronged under the existing system, were determined to have their rights, and declared that they would be satisfied with nothing less than "the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the Bill"; and seeing they had thus the public opinion of the country with them, ministers took heart, and were more hopeful of the prospect of ultimate success. A large section of the press also took up the cause of Reform with unmistakable warmth and zeal, headed by the Times, whose comments, indeed, far more out- spoken than courtly, induced Sir Robert Inglis at this time to complain to the House, and at a later period caused the publishers to be summoned to the bar of the Commons, and reprimanded after having been kept for a short time in the custody of the ser- geant-at-arms. Public meetings and peti- tions in abundance testified to the absorbing interest of the public in the question. When the Bill came on for second read- ing, the member for Cornwall, Sir R. Vyvyan, endeavoured to get rid of it by the usual course of moving that it should be read that day six months. In an exceedingly full house a division was taken, which resulted in 302 votes in favour of the second reading, and 301 against it — a majority of one for the ministers. This placed the Bill in a very critical position, and put its opponents in high spirits ; for they saw a good pro- spect of weakening- it to such a degree in committee as to render it practically ineffec- tive ; and accordingly they cheered vehe- mently. The Bill was committed to the 14th of April, and a couple of days before that date Lord John Russell came forward with some conciliatory proposals, declaring that Buckingham and several other towns had proved their populations to have been wrongly estimated in the returns of 1821, which had been taken as the basis for disfranchisement and reduction, and that these boroughs and any other boroughs or counties that could prove themselves to have been inserted under a misapprehension in schedules A and B should, on proving their case, be reinstated. Shortly after- wards. Sir George Gascoigne proposed that the number of seats in the House should not be diminished, and this was carried by a majority of eight, ministers being thus defeated and put in a minority. A Bold Stroke ; Earl Grey, the Chancellor, and the King; Dis- solution. It now became clear that the present House of Commons would not pass the Reform Bill, and the opposition hoped (if the ministry resigned) the subject could be shelved for a period, and that in gaining time they would gain everything ; or they might perhaps introduce a measure of their own, which should contain just enough concession to appease popular clamour without the disfranchisement and redistri- bution insisted on by Lord John. On the other hand, there remained the alternative of dissolving Parliament and appealing to the country. But this alternative it was not supposed that the ministry would adopt. There were various weighty reasons against it. The Parliament had only existed for a year, and had therefore six years to run before it would legally expire. The King would be naturally reluctant to dissolve a Parliament that had treated him exceptionally well in ' financial matters ; and the amount of pressing business before the -House ap- peared in itself to be an argument against dissolution at such a moment. But the ministry saw that to let in their opponents at that moment would be not only to throw away all they had gained throughout the session, but to put themselves in the cold shade of opposition, and they acted with equal decision and promptness. A cabinet council was at once held, and it was resolved that Earl Grey and Lord Brougham, the Chancellor, should at once request the King to dissolve Parliament. The two lords waited upon His Majesty accordingly. The King was exceedingly disturbed at their proposal, and vehemently objected to it, urging that he could not be expected to dismiss a Parliament so recently chosen, and one, moreover, that had dealt so liberally with him in the matter of the civil list, and of the Queen's income, in case she survived him. To this, the ministers, while allowing full weight to the King's argument, replied that the pre- sent Parliament could not continue to sit without grave peril to His Majesty's crown. King William saw that their contention was reasonable, and felt reluctant to part with his ministers ; but he urged that it would be impracticable to comply with their desire that he should prorogue Parliament that very- day with a view to its immediate dissolution. Nothing was ready. Who was to carry the sword and the cap of maintenance ? To this the Chancellor, who, bolder and less THE REFORM BILL OF 1832. courtly than his aristocratic colleague, seems to have been chief spokesman on the occasion, replied that, foreseeing the neces- sity for immediate action, the officers of state had been summoned to hold them- selves in readiness. But the Life Guards, who were to escort him ? the King urged. He had given no orders to call them out, and it was now too late. But again the imperturbable Chancellor was prepared. In the most deprecatory and submissive of tones he informed the King that his col- league and he must throw themselves on His Majesty's indulgence, but that in view of the great crisis and imminent danger to which the throne was exposed, they had taken upon themselves to give the necessary orders, and that the Life Guards were ready for dut)^ The King's face flushed red with indig- nation, for no one but himself had the right to call out the guards. " Why, this is treason, my lords — high treason ! " he hotly exclaimed ; "and you, my Lord Chancellor, ought to know it." But again the Chancellor returned to his point, declaring that nothing but the ur- gency and magnitude of the peril to the King's throne would have induced the ministry to take such a step ; and William IV., who would have been sorry to part with his ministers at such a moment, quickly recovered his composure, and even his good humour ; and, finding it necessary to yield, did so with a good grace, and at once prepared to proceed to the House for the prorogation. Great was the wrath of the opposition in both Houses in finding itself thus out- manoeuvred. In the House of Lords the indignation expressed against the ministers was so vehement that an eyewitness de- scribes himself as apprehensive that the peers would actually come to blows. Lord Londonderry especially distinguished him- self by violence of speech and gesture, declaiming against the profligacy of ministers with a vehemence which did far more harm to his own side than to his opponents, whose game he was uncon- sciously playing. In the Commons, the dignified Sir Robert Peel, usually sedate, ■calm, and imperturbable, for once com- pletely lost his temper, and passionately ■denounced the conduct of the ministry. But to the undisguised glee of the other side of the House, the sound of the park guns an- nounced that the King had set out ; and pre- sently the announcement of His Majesty's arrival and the summon that the Commons should attend at the bar of the Lords' house to hear the prorogation produced frantic cheers that drowned the indignant accents of the great Tory leader. The King's speech was very brief; merely announcing that the prorogation was to be followed by an immediate dissolution, that the King might take the sense of the nation on the state of affairs, with a view of con- cluding matters in a manner that should uphold at once the dignity and prerogatives of the crown and the just rights and liberties of the people. The dissolution followed in due course next day. A New Parliament ; The Conflict Renewed ; Progress of the Bill. A general illumination testified to the joy felt by the citizens of London at the disso- lution. The crowd was vociferous in its demonstrations of delight, and proceeded to wreak its indignation upon the chief opponents of the Bill, especially upon the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Baring, by breaking their windows. Whereupon the brave old Duke caused iron shutters to be put up over the windows on the side of Apsley House facing Hyde Park, and it was characteristic of him that those shutters were never taken down till the day of his death, twenty-one years afterwards. Great eiforts were made in the general election that followed to return members who would uphold Reform, and the one question asked of candidates at the hustings \vas whether they would support the Bill or not. In June the new Parliament met, and the Reform Bill was immediately brought for- ward. There was no doubt as to the effect of the dissolution in promoting the cause of the Reformers, for on the motion for the second reading of the Bill the division list showed, instead of the bare majority oi one (and that one vote, too, given by the Hon. Mr. Calcraft, a seceder from the Tory camp) a triumphant majority of 136. The only hope of the opposition was now in delay. If they could get to the end of the session without passing' the Bill, some new subject of interest might arise in the recess, or something might occur to turn popular excitement in a new direction ; and all their efforts were consequently turned towards gaining time. French histor}^ in Richelieu's time, had its "day of dupes." The Reform Bill, in 1831, could show its " night of divisions," during which, by con- tinual motions for adjournment, when it was moved that the Speaker do leave the chair, and the house go into committee on the Bill, the opponents contrived to keep the house going through a series of di- visions until seven o'clock in the morning. Amendment after amendment was pro- posed, while it was fully evident that not one of them would be carried. Never had honourable members been more intoxicated 34? EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. with the exuberance of their ov/n verbosity than during this memorable session. The calculation made by the S;pectator news- paper gave some curious statistics of the speeches in committee in fifteen days' de- bate between July 12th and 27th. Am^ong the leading opponents of Reform, it appeared that " Sugden had spoken eighteen times, Praed twenty-two times, Pelham twenty- eight times, Peel fifty-eight times, Croker fifty-seven times, and Wetherell fifty-eight times." But Lord Althorp declared that the ministry would keep Parliament sitting till December, or, if necessary, till De- cember twelvemonths, rather than abandon the Bill at the dictation of the obstructives, ■ — an announcement which considerably vexed the souls of honourable gentlemen who had special associations connected with the 1 2th of August and the ist of September. Both those days, however, passed away, and the House was still hard at work ; honourable members were obliged to give the grouse and the partridges a respite in 1 83 1. At last, on the 22nd of September, the last of the interminable divisions on the Bill was taken ; and it passed the Com- mons, in a house in which 584 members voted, by a majority of 106, and was sent up to the Lords. The Bill in the Lords ; Debated and Rejected; Popular Excitement. Having been steered safely past the Scylla of the Commons, the Bill had now to en- counter the dangers of Charybdis in the Lords ; and these dangers were the greater in propo-rtion to the privileges of the here- ditary legislators, and their influence in the House of Commons, by the presence of nominees and scions of their own families, were seriously diminished by its provisions. The contest, accordingly, was carried on with an acrimony and vehemence almost unprecedented in that dignified assembly. Earl Grey was more than once assailed with invective that amounted to personal insult. Philpotts, Bishop of Exeter, at a later stage, especially distinguished himself by the vehemence . of his denunciation of the Bill and everything connected with it, declaring that he and his colleagues had been vilified and insulted within the last year, " and that, too, by men of the highest station in His Majesty's councils." This ebullition called forth a stem rebuke from Lord Grey, who characterised the bishop's assertion as the most unprovoked, the most intemperate, and the most unfounded in- sinuation he had ever heard from any member of that House, and indignantly in- quired whether any words he had spoken could justly bear such a construction. He declared that the Bill, so far from being revolutionary and subversive of the best principles of the constitution, was eminently calculated to uphold that constitution, by clearing it of the blemishes that had been, and still were, its disgrace. "Was it pos- sible," he asked, "that the boroughs called nomination boroughs could be permitted any longer to exist ? Would the people, when they saw the corrupt practices un- blushingly carried on at every election, and turning from such sights, read the lessons of their youth, where they found such prac- tices stigmatised as illegal and inconsistent with the people's rights, be persuaded that the privileges which they saw a few in- dividuals converting into a means of per- sonal profit were privileges conferred for the benefit of the nation ?" This gangrene of our representative system, he declared, bade defiance to all remedies but that ot excision. Numerous petitions to the House also showed the widespread and general anxiety that prevailed out of doors on the question ; and it was hoped the Peers would see, that, where they must necessarily give way sooner or later, it would be better to make the sacrifice gracefully while there was still, at least, an appearance of option. But they failed to recognise the gravity of the position ; and on October 8th threw out the Bill in a House in which 278 pears were present, and 79 sent proxies (making a total of 357 votes) by a majority of 41 ; — and thus for the second time Reform was thrust forth by the House of Lords. The excitement throughout the country was tremendous. In some few towns, doomed by the Bill to political extinction, and now, as they thought, rescued from that fate by its rejection, there was rejoicing and congratulation, but the general feeling was one of intense anger and disappointment; and with a corresponding exasperation against the House that was considered to have deliberately set itself against the opinion of the general community, and to have de- fied the plainly-expressed will of the people of England. There were many who spoke openly of the necessity of abolishing the House of Lords; and at Nottingham, Derby, and various other places, there were serious riots. Nottingham Castle, belonging to the Duke of Newcastle, a highly unpopular opponent of the Reform Bill, was fired; and in various places it was necessary to call out the military. The leading reformers, on the other hand, strenuously advised the people to be calm and patient under this temporary disappointment, in the full con- sciousness that the cause must speedily triumph. " I tell them that Reform is only delayed for a short period," cried Lord 350 THE REFORM BILL OF 1S32. Brougham ; "I tell them that the Bill will pass — that the Bill must pass — that a Bill founded on exactly similar principles, and equally extensive and efficient with the Bill which has been thrown out, shall in a very short period become part and parcel of the law of the land." In a more humourous vein, but with equal effect, Sydney Smith, an ardent Liberal, allayed the fears of thepeople by his speeches in the west country. It was at Taunton that he introduced the story of Mrs. Partington, that, from the aptness of the illustrations it furnished, has become pro- verbial. Speaking of the resistance of the House of Lords and their endeavour to stem the tide of the popular will, the worthy Canon of St. Paul's told his delighted audience how, in the winter of 1824, a great flood set in upon the little Devonshire town of Sidmouth, and the tide threatened to overwhelm the whole place. " In the midst of this sublime storm, Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was seen at the door of her house with mop and pattens, trundling her mop, and squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused, Mrs. Partington's spirit was up; but I need not tell you that the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop or a puddle, but she should nothave meddled with a tempest." And so he exhorted his audience to take heart and bide their time, for the Atlantic Ocean of the British people's will would certainly be too strong for the mop of the Mrs. Partington of the House of Lords. Bristol Riots; The Third Bill; The Lords Again ; Resignation and its Consequences. The gravest public event of that stormy autumn was the great riot at Bristol. Sir Charles Wetherell, who was Recorder of that city, had become especially obnoxious by his violent tirades against the Reform Bill ; and on his going down to Bristol to hold the gaol delivery there, the whole place was in an uproar. Sir Charles had been strongly urged not to present himself at Bristol at this crisis ; but he disregarded the warning, believing, most erroneously, that a reaction against Reform had set in, and that he had nothing to fear. The measures taken by the magistrates for pre- serving order were half-hearted and vacil- lating. Colonel Brereton, who commanded the military force, was good-natured and unwilling to act ; and an incendiary mob for a time got the upper hand of the authorities. Since the time of the Gordon riots there had not been so dangerous an outbreak; and it was not put down until great damage had been done and many lives lost. The House met again on the 6th of December, and once more Reform was the subject taken in hand. Some alterations had been made by the ministers in their second Bill, but its main provisions re- appeared in the third measure which was now brought before the House. Of its acceptance in the Commons there could be no doubt. When the House reassembled after the Christmas holidays, it was steadily pushed forward, and was carried by a tri- umphant majority of 116 on the 23rd of March, 1832. Once more it went up to the peers, and once again, "What will the Lords do?" became the question of the day. By this time many of the Peers had become doubtful of the consequences of further opposition ; and some leading men among them, such as Lords Harrowby and Whamcliffe, recommended that the Bill should be allowed to pass the second read- ing, as there would be still an opportunity to alter its most objectionable features in committee. There was the more reason for this, as it was announced that in case of another adverse majority, a large creation of new Peers would take place, to counter- balance the non-contents. The second reading of the Bill was accordingly carried, but only by the narrow majority of g; and the fate of the measure was felt to be once more in jeopardy. The apprehensions of its well-wishers were well founded. A motion was brought forward that the enfranchising clauses of the Bill should be taken before those of disfranchisement. This was opposed by the ministers, who were left in a minority of thirty-five, and at once gave in their resignations, and the King's acceptance of that resignation was announced to the House on the 9th of May. The Ministry Recalled ; The Final Triumph ; Conclusion. For many years the affairs of the nation had not been at such a dead lock. The Whig ministry had resigned ; a Tory minis- try must come in. By Lord Lyndhurst's advice the King sent for the Duke of Wellington. But the Duke's opposition to Reform had been veiy uncompromising from the beginning, and it was manifestly impossible that any ministry could stand that did not pledge itself at once to bring forward a measure for Reform. Could the Duke bring forward such a measure ? — Hardly, after the line he had consistently taken, and after his speech declaring that from the day of the passing of such a measure he should date the downfall of the constitution ; and Sir Robert Peel 351 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the Duke's trusty confederate and adviser, whom the Duke advised the King to send for, when he himself declined the impossible task of forming a government, had shown himself as uncompromising an opponent of Reform as Wellington himself. By this time the vacillating conduct of the King had caused the loss of all his popularity. He was mercilessly caricatured in the character of "Billy Barlow"; while on ■Queen Adelaide ribald songs were made and sung, Her Majesty being represented as "a nasty German frow," and as the imperious DollaloUa of the burlesque of Tom Thumb, in which the King was made to figure as the weak monarch Arthur, powerless under his imperious wife's in- fluence. Even on the omnibuses — then a new invention just introduced in London — the names "William IV." and "Adelaide" were painted out. There was a run on the Bank of England. " Go for gold, and stop ^the Duke," was the advice posted on anony- mous placards. There was a general threat of "No Reform, no taxes"; and Lord Milton set the example of resistance in this direction by directing the tax-gatherer to call again, and plainly intimating that his payment would be dependent on the course of public events. Evidently there was nothing to be done but to recall Lord Grey and his ministry. The King received his advisers with a ■constrained air ; and it was remarked that he kept them standing during the inter\dew. But they had now the game in their hands at last, and stipulated that the King should give m writing his consent to the creation of new Peers if the resistance in the House of Lords were renewed. With a very bad grace His Majesty wrote the following memorandum, and handed it to Lord Brougham : — " The King grants permission to Earl Grey and to his Chancellor, Lord Brougham, to create such a number of Peers as will be sufficient to ensure the passing of the Re- form Bill, — first calling Peers' eldest sons. "(Signed), "William R. "Windsor, Afay ijth, 1832." An intimation from the King was at the same time sent round to the chief Lords in opposition, "declaring that all difficulties would be obviated if a sufficient number of Peers would drop further opposition to the Reform Bill." This was tantamount to a command. Accordingly the Duke of Wellington left the House of Peers without voting, and did not come back until the measure had passed. A number of his fol- lowers adopted the same course. The King's circular was caricatured by H. B. as "the modest request "; but it produced its effect. With many bitter complaints the Peers acquiesced in the inevitable, and the Reform Bill was carried, receiving the Royal assent in Tune 1832. H. W. D. 352 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. THE STORY OF A GREAT TIME. " It was a time when men were being lifted into nobleness by the new moral energy which seemed suddenly to pulse through the whole people, when honour and enthusiasm took colours of poetic beauty and religion became a chivalry." Green's " History of the English People." "This era has always appeared to us by far the brightest in the history of English literature, or, indeed, of human intellect and capacity." Edinhirgh Review. Death of Queen Mary — Proclamation in London — Elizabeth, at Hatfield, receives the Intelligence of her Accession to the Crown — Political and Doctrinal Protestantism — The Learned Ladies of the Time — " Now all the Youth of England are afire " — The Maritime Supremacy and Wealth of Spain — Condition of England — A Poor Aristocracy and a Moneyed Middle Class — An Impoverished E.xchequer and Debased Coinage— Cecil and Gresham to the Rescue — Ecclesiastical Changes — Papal Bishops lose their Sees — Social Condition of the People— Rogues, Vagabonds, and Sturdy Beggars — The Gallows in " JMerry England" — Mercantile Enterprise — Maritime Adventures— Drake sails round the World, and brings home Treasure — Seeking a North-West Passage — Trade with India — Shattering the Great Armada— Splendid Literary Development— Shakspeare the Mirror " of the Age and Body of the Time." The Oueen Dead. HE gloom of a November morning, the 17th of the month, in the year of grace 1558, was brooding over the royal "house at St. James's," when the darker shadow of death shut out all that re- mained of life and the outer world to Queen Mary of England. Weak, sickly, affection- ate and kindly by nature, the victim of a terrible bigotry, a neglected, motherless wife, with an understanding warped into subtle- ness and moral crookedness by the domi- nation of more potent wills, Mary Tudor, the " Lady Mary" of the two previous reigns, the " Bloody Mary " of popular history, was no more ; and, as yet wanting a few months of completing her forty-fourth year, and having reigned about five and a-half years, her troubled, wearied life, with its sadness and its turmoils, was succeeded — after what soul struggles, what remembrances, and what prayers, we know not — by the silence of death. Before another day had dawned, Cardinal Reginald Pole, also of the blood of English royalty, the last Papal legate to this country, the last Roman Catholic head of the Anglican Church, was "among those who have been"; and with the death of Mary 353 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Tudor and Reginald Pole began a new and the greatest era of English history. The Queen is Dead ! Long Live the * Queen ! Mary died between five and six o'clock in the morning, and several hours elapsed before the event was known beyond the im- mediate precincts of St. James's ; but shortly before noon Archbishop Heath, of York, the Lord Chancellor, went down to the House of Lords, and summoning the Speaker and the faithful Commons to the bar, announced, in due form, that " God had called to his mercy the late sovereign lady Queen Mary — a heavy and grievous woe, but relieved by the blessing God had left them in a true, loyal, and right inheritress to the crown— the Lady Elizabeth, second daughter to the late sovereign lord of noble memory. King Henry VIII., and sister unto the late said Queen." From nobles on the benches, from Commons at the bar, rose a shout, "God save Queen Elizabeth, and long and happily may she reign !" Then the Duke of Norfolk, hereditary Earl Marshal of England, the Marquis of Winchester, the Earl of Shrews- bury, and the Earl of Bedford, accompanied by the troop of gorgeously clad heralds, appeared on horseback in front of the great door of Westminster Hall, in Old Palace Yard, and proclaimed with all due forms that Mary was dead and that her sister Elizabeth •was Queen of England. From Palace Yard they rode to Charing Cross, and thence eastward along the Strand into the City, where, at Cheapside Cross, and again at the Tower, the proclamations were made. There was an outburst of long sup- pressed feeling. No expression of grief for the Queen that was lost, no tears prompted by the thought that she who, but a few hours before, had been the sovereign of England, was now a pallid corpse ; but a sense of relief from an incubus that had pressed heavily on the free spirit and the vital energy of the nation. The red fires of Smith- field had scarcely cooled, the echoes of the shrieks in the torture chamber of the Tower had scarcely died away, the whispered prayers of those who in secret hiding-places had appealed to heaven for strength and deliver- ance, still lived in the memories of sympa- thetic believers ; and in the prouder and stronger natures of the English citizens there was the remembrance of foreign domination, of foreign wars, of insulted and disgraced nationality. In the picturesque language of Mr. Froude, "The bells which six years before had rung in triumph for Mary's accession now pealed as merrily for her death. The voices which had shouted themselves hoarse in execrations on Northumberland were now as loud in ecstasy that the miserable reign was at an end. Through the November day steeple answered steeple ; the streets were spread with tables, and as the twilight closed blazed as before with bonfires. The black dominion of priests and priestcraft had rolled away like night before the coming of the dawn. Elizabeth, the people's idol, dear to them from her sister's hatred, the morning star of England's hope, was Queen." Elizabeth was living quietly at the royal manor-house at Hatfield, in Hertfordshire, where, as a child, she and her young brother Edward had been chiefly brought up. In the stately mansion which for about three centuries has been the home of the Cecils, the apartments where the royal children dwelt are still shown, and in the gardens the paths along which they rambled, the lawns on which they played, are still associated with the memory of the younger children of " the great Harry." It was at Hatfield the Lady Elizabeth generally resided during the reign of Mary, studying Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, playing on the virginals, dancing with her few lady attendants. She knew well enough that if she outlived her feeble-bodied, morbid- minded sister, the great majority of English- men would welcome her as successor to the throne ; but she knew also that her life was not " worth a pin's fee," if she stood in the way of Mary's fanaticism or Philip's ambi- tion, supposing he had the courage to defy the national feeling of England by striking a blow at the nation's favourite. Sometimes she had been invited to share in procession and pageant, and had been once taken to London as a state prisoner, knowing pro- bably that the warrant for her committal to the Tower and execution had been prepared, but that at the last moment the fear of con- sequences had prevailed, and her sister Mary had refused to affix the royal sign-manual. Elizabeth Regina. Twenty-five years of age, large-brained, in- heriting no little of the temper and the strong will of her father, and some of the subtlety and insincerity of her rnother, Elizabeth added to these qualities a little womanly vanity mingled with occasional tenderness, easily changing into jealousy and animosity if the vanity were ungratified or the tender- ness misplaced. In after life she showed that she could be sometimes prodigally generous and sometimes pitifully mean ; but such were inconsistencies that grew with age, and were but little apparent in the tall, graceful, clear- eyed, yellow-haired princess who, under the trees at Hatfield, received the announcement from Cecil and other kneeling courtiers that she was Queen of England. She had waited with brave patience for such a message, which she guessed would come in due time, and she bore the new honour with 354 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. modest dignity. Kneeling down, she ex- claimed, in the words of the Latin Psalter then in use, A Domini factum est istiid, et est mirabile oculis nostris I " It is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes ! " — a text afterwards stamped on the gold coin issued in her reign. She assumed her exalted position with dignity and a fitting confidence in herself. It may be well believed that she was not ignorant of, nor unsympathising with, the national temper ; and she had many personal qualities fitting her to become the leader of the English people. It was a time when a fierce and merciless ecclesiastical, rather than religious, war had been waged, when each of the great parties had in turns pro- duced persecutions and martyrs, and when the fight was less on behalf of doctrines than of the right of Englishmen to be free from Papal or other foreign dictation. The Pro- testantism, for which so many had suffered conscientiously and for truth's sake, was with the great mass of the people rather political than doctrinal. The London merchant, the country gentleman, much more the ordinary unlettered townsman or yeoman, was little competent to argue about sacramentarian questions, or discuss texts not one word of which he could read in the Vulgate, probably not in the Bishops' translation ; but he was willing to attend church, listen respectfully to the services, and understand as much as he conveniently could of the sermon, and only desired to be let alone. It did not seem to him right, however agreeable it might be to ecclesiastical dignitaries, that the Pope of Rome or his legates should not only tell him what to believe, and imprison, torture, or burn him if he failed to have very definite views on subjects about which scholars were quarreUing, and had been quarrelling for a thousand years, but should also claim the right to enjoy or dispose of all the good things of the Church. The political and ecclesiastical changes of the previous quarter of a century had left the plain, practical minds of the mass of the English people in a somewhat hazy condition. They thought that King Henry had acted as an English king should act, in defying the Pope ; but they were not quite so sure that the suppres- sion of the religious houses was an unmixed boon. The stately abbeys, the fertile pastures where the monks had dwelt and enjoyed themselves, not by any means in an exclu- sively spiritual manner, had passed into the ownership of court favourites or wealthy upstarts of the middle classes, and although Mary had made an attempt to restore some of them to the original owners, it had not been possible, except in a very few instances, to reunite the scattered communities, and the complications and foreign troubles which marked her brief reign had not materially altered the state of tihe case. Possibly, it was felt, the monks were lazy, irreligious, or even profligate — but they fed the poor; and even if worthless vagrants sometimes received good meals which they did not earn, they were less likely to be mischievous than when hungry. The nuns, too, were kindly women, who looked after the sick, and were ready with many little helps and comforts. Now the abbey and convent gates were closed, the beggars were hungry and clamoured for bread from door to door. The country roads were infested by mendicants who robbed as well as begged. The farmer or trader was waylaid and maltreated on market-days, the goodwife lost the linen she spread out to dry on common or hedgerow. The average Eng- lishman did not like to be told that he must say his prayers in any particular fashion, or forfeit his hope of salvation, besides incurring the chance of being handed over to the tender mercies of some Tony Fire-the- Fagot ; but, if allowed to do as he liked in the matter, would probably not have troubled himself to change the old forms of worship which had contented his father and grandfather, or made any serious objection to the vicar pray- ing in Latin, or duly bowing at the proper times. Difficult doctrines, subtle hairsplittings, did not much trouble his practical Christi- anity (so far as he understood what Christi- anity meant) ; but to be ordered, under penalties, to do what otherwise he was quite willing to do, aroused the independent spirit of the Englishman. Queen Mary had re- presented a spirit of intolerance which had become intolerable. Her young sister, at Hatfield, was the rising star which it was hoped and believed would be the harbinger of a beneficent change. The Queen's Protestantism. " Elizabeth herself," says Mr. Froude (whose " History " sheds so much light on this eventful period), "had been educated in a confused Protestantism, which had evaded doctrinal difficulties and had confined itself chiefly to anathemas of Rome. She would have been contented to accept the formulas which had been left by her father, with an English ritual and the common service of the first Prayer-book of Edward VI. But the sacramentarian tendencies of English Protestant theology had destroyed Henry's standing-ground as a position which the Reformers could be brought to accept. It was to deny transubstantiation that the mar- tyrs had died. It was in the name and in defence of the mass that Mary and Pole had exercised their savage despotism. Elizabeth had borne her share of persecution ; she resisted with the whole force of her soul the 355 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. indignities to which she had been exposed, and she sympathised with those who had suffered at her side. She was the idol of the young, the restless, the enthusiastic. Her name had been identified with freedom, and she detested more sincerely than any theo- logian living the perversity which treated opinion as a crime. In her speculative theories she was nearer to Rome than to Calvinism. In her vital convictions she re- presented the free, proud spirit of the Eng- lish laity, who would endure no dictation from priests of either persuasion, and so far as lay in them would permit no clergy any more to fetter the thoughts and paralyze the energies of England." Learned Ladies and Adventurous Spirits. In another respect Elizabeth was a repre- sentative of the spirit of the time. The long and bitter ecclesiastical controversies had unconsciously aided the revival of learning and literature. Familiarity with the classical languages had extended from the clergy to the laity, and what is somewhat pedantically described as '' polite literature " was also ad- vancing its limits. The growing intercourse with foreign nations improved the national taste in art and litei"ature. The hard theolo- gical fighting had evoked a vitality and intel- lectual energy which had snapped asunder the bonds imposed by the subtleties of the schoolmenand prepared the way for a new and more robust philosophy, as well as a new and more robust theology. There was a quickened spirit of inquiry, an eagerness on the part of the more cultured classes to be- come acquainted with the thoughtful and imaginative literature of the quick-witted nations of southern Europe. Scholarship became fashionable, not only with the lords, but with the ladies of the time. The daugh- ters of the nobility sought the aid, as in- structors, of erudite men like Roger Ascham, and the acquirements of some of the young women of that age were remarkable. Lady Jane Grey studying Greek with Ascham, in preference to sharing in the pleasures of a holiday, is a familiar picture. Even Queen Mary, feeble in health, not remarkable for great intellectual gifts, read and wrote Latin fluently, had some acquaintance with Greek, and spoke with ease in French, Spanish, and Italian. Elizabeth, blessed with good health and possessing great mental activity, added Hebrew to other linguistic acquire- ments, was a fairly good musician, and eagerly mastered so much of foreign and English literature as found its way to the secluded chambers of Hatfield. As yet, perhaps, she had less sympathy, because less acquaintance, with one of the most potent influences in the struggling energy of the time. A shorter period than the threescore-and-ten years to which men might expect to live had elapsed since Christopher Columbus had revealed the existence of a new world, since the visions of golden cities and other Dorados had dazzled the eyes of Europe. The subjugation of Mexico by Cortez, the conquest of the Peru- vian Incas by Pizarro, were scarcely old stories ; and there were in England many adventurous spirits, still in the enjoyment of lusty manhood, who in their youth had thrilled with an ardent desire to share the perils of the Atlantic seas and set foot on the almost fairyland of the New World; to fol- low De Soto in his search for the fountain of eternal youth ; to look, as Hernando Cortez had looked, upon the waves of the Pacific which had washed the shores of far Cathay, and which Maghaelan had reached through the strait which now bears his name. Portu- guese navigators were familiar with the route to India by way of the Cape of Good Hope, and Portuguese merchants were storing the warehouses with the gold and silver, the pre- cious stones, the silks and sumptuous fabrics, of the East. Only two years before, an Eng- lish adventurer had visited the Gold Coast of Western Africa, and having discovered that the negroes whom he met with were " a people of beastly living, without God, law, religion, or commonwealth," was convinced that he, as a civiHzed and superior being, was justified in capturing five of these dusky heathens, and bringing to England, for the purpose of selling them as slaves. The English mind, however, had not as yet ex- panded sufficiently to appreciate man- catch- ing as a profitable commercial transaction, and as no buyers could be found, the cap- tives were sent back in another vessel. It was reserved for John Hawkins, a few years later, to establish the slave-trade as an adventure in which English merchants could profitably (and therefore, of course, conscientiously) engage. At that time the English people did not want foreign slaves for their own use. There were labourers enough, and to spare, at home ; and, indeed, a sort of slavery, by which sturdy vagrants were made to work and practically sold to the highest bidders, was a familiar institution. But the ship which brought over the five slaves, and other ships, too, which had visited the Gold Coast, brought home ru- mours of wealth in gold, ivory, and other matters, which almost rivalled the glowing accounts from the western world. The Maritime Supremacy and Wealth OF Spain. The discovery of America had made Spain the wealthiest nation of the world. The broad ocean was traversed by her 3S6 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. ships laden with almost fabulous wealth ; her young noblemen and gallant gentlemen were adventurers gathering: riches and re- nown in the islands to which the name of West Indies had been given, or in the aurife- rous lands once reigned over by Montezuma or governed by the Incas of Peru. Spain was the queen of the seas, and Spain was hated by England. Philip of Spain had been king consort — the encourager, if not the prompter, of Mary's bigotry and cruelty ; and Philip had already begun the persecu- tion, afterwards so terrible, of the Dutch Protestants. In an age in which so many elements were active, we may expect to find mixed motives. The English generally, from their own experience, were disgusted with persecution, and they consequently disliked Philip. Spain was a foreign power which had unduly influenced English affairs, and was therefore offensive to English patriotism. Spain was also the greatest maritime power of the day, and enjoyed apparently illimit- able wealth, a share of which would have greatly gratified the English nobility and merchants ; and that fact appealed strongly to another phase of patriotism. Thousands of brave young Englishmen, younger sons, and others of adventurous spirit and little wealth, would be delighted to share in voyages of discovery and conquest, to meet the richly freighted Spanish galleons on the high seas and teach the heretics a wholesome lesson in morals by capturing their golden freights. There is a law of heredity in national instincts, which, in peoples as in individuals, may be long dormant, but appears at last, even stronger after centuries of slumber. Englishmen are the descendants of sea- rovers, Scandinavian bersekers, Norman ad- venturers — it might be beneath the dignity of history to say pirates. The people of the inland towns might, in those times of difficult communication, when few except nobles, men-at-arms, and chapmen wandered ten miles from their homes, have retained but little of the nature of their maritime fore- fathers ; but around the coast were hardy fishermen and navigators, to whom sea life was a second nature, and who would be ready enough to enter on any adventure. This revival of the national maritime spirit was one of the most remarkable develop- ments of this remarkable time, and imparted a marvellous energy not only to the adven- turous, but also to the intellectual and moral characteristics of the age. If, as we have said, Elizabeth in her youth had not much^sympathy with this adventurous spirit, she no doubt shared in the dislike to Spain, and to Philip, who was an uncomfort- able brother-in-law ; and she was astute enough to see that, as Spain grew, England would become less and less influential. If not a very ardent doctrinal Protestant, she was a very decided political Protestant, and nationally ambitious besides ; therefore little disposed to acquiesce in a Catholic monarch dominating the destinies of Europe. She inherited the temper of her father, and her father had no disposition to be second to any potentate, be he Pope or be he Emperor. Condition of England. The regency of Somerset, the wretched and ignoble reign of Mary, had reduced England to a miserable condition, financially and socially. The crown revenues were sadly deficient, half of the amount having been sacrificed to reimburse the Catholic clergy for the loss they had sustained by the confis- cation of the abbey lands. Philip had in- fluenced Mary to engage in an expensive and disastrous war with France ; and she had extorted subsidies from her wealthier subjects only to encounter shame and defeat. At the time when the country was impoverished, and smarting under a feeling of national disgrace, she had allowed Philip to take ;^6o,ooo from the Treasury, and had presented him with the valuable crown jewels. The country generally was in a dissatisfied condition, in a strange state of transition. The nobility, with few exceptions, were no longer feudal chiefs, but were impoverished and compara- tively weak. Many men of high rank, many of the young men of the oldfamilies, struggHng against the oppression of the new order of things, had becoine entangled in conspi- racies, had perished on the scaffold, or had sought safety in voluntary exile. The mili- tary spirit of the yeomen and peasantry had decayed, and they were no longer familiar with the use of arms. The fortresses through- out the country were dismantled or un- garrisoned ; some in ruins. There was no fleet worthy of the name. Mary Stuart, the Scotch princess, had married the Dauphin of France, and assumed the title of Queen of England, with, as many thought, a better legal title to the throne than Elizabeth her- self — for Mary was the lineal descendant of Henry the Seventh of England, of unques- tioned legitimacy, while Elizabeth was the daughter of Anne Boleyn, whose marriage with Henry the Eighth had been accepted as lawful or unlawful according as personal or political convenience dictated. An address to the Council, preserved among the " Domestic Papers," thus describes the position of the country in the latter days of Oueen Mary : — " The Queen poor, the realm exhausted, the nobility poor and decayed ; good captains and soldiers wanting ; the people out of order ; justice not executed ; all things dear; excesses in meat, diet, and apparel ; division among ourselves ; war with France ; the 357 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. French king bestriding the realm, having one foot in Calais and the other in Scotland ; steadfast enemies, but no steadfast friends." The general bitterness and distrust en- gendered by the persecutions in the name of religion, was felt throughout the land. The sufferings to which the Protestants had been exposed might, the Catholics had some reason to fear, induce a reaction, and inspire a feeling of revenge when their hour of triumph came ; and the fires of Smithfield and Oxford might be re-lighted, with believers in the mass and the temporal power of the Papacy at the stake, in place of Protestant martyrs. In- tolerance and persecution were the common weapons of both theological parties, and it was not unreasonably' feared that Elizabeth and the bishops nominated by her would be as ready to put down heresy by strong means as their predecessors had been. Besides this smouldering apprehension of theological animosity, there was a powerful social animosity at work. The nobility were declining in wealth and influence. The middle classes were rising into importance. Merchants and other commoners had become possessed of vast estates by the dissolution of the monasteries. The old aristocratic spirit was bitter against the mushroom gentility, the sudden rise into social importance, of the townsmen and traders. The writer of a letter addressed to Sir William Cecil, and preserved among the " Domestic Manu- scripts," suggested that "the wealth of the meaner sort must be cured by keeping them in awe through the severity of justice, and by providing, as it were, some sewers or channels to draw and suck from them their money by subtle and indirect means." The same writer, having proposed this practical method of dealing with the wealthy parvenus, proceeded to indicate how the nobles might be benefited at the expense of the Church. In this regard, he probably expressed a very general feeling ; for the experience of the last few years had not greatly increased the respect of the laity for ecclesiastical dig- nitaries. He suggested that " it might not be amiss to take from the bishops the titles of lords, and their places in parliament ; to allow the archbishops a thousand pounds and the bishops a thousand marks [one-third less] yearly, and to give their temporal lands and stately houses to noblemen having need of the same." Evidently there was little love lost between the prelates and the " old nobility." Sir William Cecil (the great Lord Burleigh of after times) was unquestionably the ablest statesman of the time, and Elizabeth, who well knew his value, acted wisely in at once entrusting him with the office of secretary and direction of political affairs. He at once grappled with the financial difficulties of the situation. On the day following that on which Cecil had announced to Elizabeth that she was Queen of England, Sir Thomas Gresham, the leading merchant of London, and the most clear-headed man of the time in commercial and monetary matters, ac- companied him to Hatfield, and received in- structions to set out immediately for Antwerp, for the pui-pose of at once raising a loan to pay the enormous interest on some of the bonds held by Flemish Jews, and to defray pressing demands. One of the first efforts of Cecil, who en- joyed the most perfect confidence of the Queen, was to put the coinage into a more satisfactory condition. It had been abomi- nably depreciated, and private mints had been established for the issue of base coin. This was remedied by calling in the old coin and substituting for it new and genuine money. Of course this necessary proceeding involved a money loss, but it was well compensated by the greater security of all commercial transactions. Royal Entry into London, Six days after her accession, the young Queen set out from Hatfield, " with a joyous escort of more than a thousand persons," on her way to London. At Highgate she was met by the bishops, who, kneeling, acknowledged their allegiance, not, perhaps, without some doubts as to the probability of the tenure of their sees. She was in a gracious humour, and permitted each bishop to kiss her hand, except Bonner, Bishop of London, " whom," says Stow, " she omitted for sundry severities in the time of his authority." He perhaps remembered the slight when he afterwards re- fused to take the oath of supremacy — a refusal for which he was deprived of his bishopric, and remitted to the Marshalsea prison, whei'e he died miserably. At the foot of High- gate hill the young Queen was met by the Lord Mayor and aldermen and chief citizens of London, and conducted by them in great state, through Islington and Clerken- well, to Lord North's mansion, the Charter House, adjacent to Smithfield. After a week's residence there, she entered the city at Cripplegate, and rode ia state along by the city wall to the Tower, where she re- mained another week, and then went by water to Somerset House. One of her first acts as Queen was significant. The Arch- bishop of York ceased to be Lord Chancellor, and Sir Nicholas Bacon, the famous father of a more famous son, and brother-in-law of Cecil, was appointed Lord Keeper. Since that time no ecclesiastic has held the high position of " Keeper of the Sovereign's conscience." N o man could say with certainty that the accession of Elizabeth would produce any important change in the ecclesiastical con- 358 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. dition of the country. The majority of the peers were CathoUcs, and of course the bishops and beneficed clergy belonged to the Romish Church. Elizabeth herself, and Cecil, her chief adviser, had hitherto avoided any direct opposition to that Church, and the new Queen retained thirteen avowed and devout Catholics in her Privy Council. As intimated already, her Protestantism was less doctrinal than political, and at present, at least, she did not choose to assume the character of a doctrinal Reformer. What she did intend to do in regard of the national Church was manifest a year or two after- wards, when she was more firmly settled on the throne. The London mob, however, jumped to the conclusion that the tables were about to be turned, and assaulted priests in the open streets ; while Protestant divines emerged from their hiding-places, and began, without waiting for official permission, to read the services in English. The Spanish ambassador, noting the workings of the popular feeling, wrote to Philip that an insurrection was imminent, and that his best course would be to invade the country at once, to prevent it falling into the hands of France — that country being willing, he supposed, to support the claims of Mary, wife of the Dauphin, to the throne of England. " The realm," wrote the am- bassador, " is in such a state that we could best negotiate sword in hand." Philip, accustomed to tortuous courses, declined to adopt this advice, and trusted to the effect of bribes, promises, and persuasions. He hit upon a plan of his own ; and when Elizabeth formally notified to him the death of his wife Mary, and her accession to the throne, he replied by offering to marry Elizabeth, his sister-in-law, thinking, perhaps, she would be unable to resist so splendid an offer, and by that means he might obtain even a stronger hold on England than he had en- joyed in the reign of Mary. He little under- stood either England or England's new Queen. She was too independent in spirit to be made a political tool, and too womanly to receive the advances of her sister's widower. Queen Mary was interred in Westminster Abbey, with all the solemn funeral rites of the Romish Church, and the celebration of a mass of requiem ; but the day afterwards (Christmas Day) Elizabeth withdrew from the service in the private chapel before the elevation of the host. She did not forbid the Catholic celebration, but declined to be present at it. Changes in the Church, Before a year had elapsed, " the English Church was lost for ever to the Papists." Probably the Queen was a little influenced in her action by the language of Pope Paul IV., who, when the ambassador at Rome officially notified to him the death of Mary and the accession of her sister, replied that " he looked upon Elizabeth as illegitimate, and that she ought, therefore, to lay down the government, and wait for his decision as to whether she was lawful Queen." Of all women in the world, Elizabeth was the last to bow to such a dictum as this ; and of all people in the world, the Enghsh were the last to accept a Papal allotment of the crown. The change must have come in course of time, but there can be little doubt that it was precipitated by the language of the Pope. In the first session of Parliament, held immediately after Elizabeth's corona- tion, the Lords and Commons enacted that the Queen, notwithstanding her sex, was the supreme head of the English Church ; that the laws made concerning religion in King Edward's time should be re-established in full force; and that his Book of Common Prayer in the mother-tongue should be restored, and used to the exclusion of all others in all places of worship. The Liturgy, however, received certain modifications, which made it less objectionable to the Catholics, even if it failed to satisfy enthu- siastic Protestants. The Pope was deposed from the headship of the Church, but the prayer for deliverance from him " and all his detestable enormities " was struck out. The words used in administering the Sacrament were so altered that the recipient could take it whether he believed in the real presence or not, and the rubric directed against the doctrine was struck out. Doctrinally, there was certainly a con- siderable compromise; but politically, the Queen and her advisers were decidedly un- compromising. Her faithful subjects were quite welcome to say of the sacramental bread, as she herself is traditionally reported to have said — ' ' Christ's was the hand that brake it, Christ's was the word that spake it, And what that word did make it That I beheve and take it," but they must admit, whether they liked it or not, that she, Elizabeth, Queen of England, was head of the Church. On the 15th of May, the bishops, deans, and other Church dignitaries were summoned before the Queen and Privy Council, and ad- monished to conform to the new statute. Heath, Archbishop of York (the see of Canterbury was vacant), had the courage to remind the Queen of her promise " not to change the religion which she found by law established," and said that his conscience would not suffer him to obey her present commands. The other bishops concurred.and it was evident that a crisis was approaching. 359 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. One after another, the bishops refused to take the oath of supremacy ; one only, Bishop Kitchen, of Llandaff, who had been Papist and Protestant, and Papist again, were deprived, and many Church dignitaries also suffered the loss of their position in the Church ; but the great body of the clergy complied, and the vacant bishoprics were Attacking a Spanish Treasure Ship. and was now willmg to be Protestant once i filled up chiefly from the ranks ot eminent more, complied, and was rewarded by being Protestant divines who had fled the country allowed to retam his bishopric. The others | to avoid the Marian persecutions, Matthew 360 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. Parker, who in early life had been chaplain to Anne Boleyn, being appointed Archbishop of Canterbury. The Clergy at Home. The work of Church reformation by no means ended with the establishment of royal supremacy and the deprivation of those prelates and priests who declined to accept it. Personally, the clergy needed re- formation quite as much as the system. In the reign just ended, the prelates had cared more for doc- trine than for discipline ; and the new comers into sees and benefices were mostly deter- mined to make the best of their opportunities. Within two years after the Church of Eng- land was put on the new basis, we are told, the pre- lates were gran- ting long leases (for a consider- ation) of the estates in which they had but life interests, "caring nothing for the future." The Queen, it was known, ob- jected to a mar- ried clergy, al- though she did not press the legal enforce- ment of celi- bacy. Many priests who had wives in the background in Mary's reign now brought them forward ; and many of the new incumbents and dignitaries had wives and families. The Oueen had a right, or assumed a right, to interfere in the colleges and cathedrals, and cleared out the wives and little ones, declaring that the rooms intended for students were not to be sacri- ficed to women and children. The ladies, indeed, carried matters with a very high hand before the Queen interfered. We read that the singing men of the cathedral choirs were made to act as private servants to the clergy, and that the cathedral plate was Francis Drake, transferred to private sideboards ; " the organ pipes were melted into kitchen dishes, the frames being made into bedsteads ; and the copes and vestments, valuable for their golden embroidery, were cut up into gowns for the wives of the clergy. The said wives did call and take all things belonging to the Church and corporation as their own." The national Church was indeed in a bad con- dition. In some dioceses at least a third of the parishes had no clergymen ; and of course the children were unbaptized, there were no ser- yices, no ad- ministration of the Sacrament, and the dead went unblessed to the grave. Some of these vacancies, es- pecially in the northern and western coun- ties,werecaused by the refusal of the occu- pants to take the oath of al- legiance. The buildings fell into decay, and the Queen was moved to ad- dress an indig- nant remon- strance toArch- bishop Parker on the "no small offence and scandal of the neglected condition of the churches." The personal chan- ges caused by the new settle- ment of the Church are de- scribed by Bur- nett, who says thatot nine thousand four hundred beneficed persons in England,all who chose to resign their benefices rather than comply with the new order of things were, beside the fourteen bishops and three bishops-elect, only six abbots, twelve deans, twelve archdeacons, fifteen heads of colleges, fifty prebendaries, and eighty rectors. This statement confirms the view taken, that doctrinal matters were far less in dispute than ecclesiastical supremacy. There was no national dishke to a national church. As Mr. Green remarks, in his " History of the English People," " The most advanced Re- 361 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. formers did not dream of contending for a right to stand apart from the national religion. What they wanted was to make that national religion their own." Eliza,beth and her advisers having resolved to supersede the Roman Catholic as the State religion, resolved also to do their best to banish it from the country. The Tudors had little of the spirit of toleration in their composition ; and, having decided that mass should not be celebrated in the national churches, proceeded to forbid it also in private chapels. Some of the practices of the Romish Church were not objectionable to the Queen ; and when on one occasion Dean Nowell, a hot Reformer, was preach- ing before her, and began to vehemently denounce the use of images, she shouted from the royal closet, " Stick to your text. Master Dean ; leave that alone." But she would be independent of the Pope, just as she would be independent of Philip of Spain, and the Parliament shared the feeling. There was, in fact, a strong national reaction, and little difficulty was experienced in passing the Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity. By the former an oath was imposed acknow- ledging " the Queen's highness to be the only supreme governor of this realm, as well in all spiritual and ecclesiastical things or causes as temporal." Members of the Roman Church who believed in the supremacy in spiritual matters of the Pope, of course could not conscientiously take this oath, and they suffered accordingly deprivation of civil rights, and in some cases were subjected to charges of treason. Elizabeth instructed the ecclesiastical visitors of the dioceses to deny that she meant to '' challenge authority and power of ministry of divine service in the Church ; " but that the true meaning of the Act of Supremacy was that she intended to "have the sovereignty and rule over all manner of persons born within her realm, dominions, and countries, of what estate, either ecclesiastical or temporal, soever they be, so as no other foreign power shall or ought to have any superiority over them." This vigorous protest against foreign inter- ference was quite in accordance with the pre- vailing temper of the people; and scrupulous adherents of the Papacy being in the minority, they were, with considerable cheerfulness, left to their fate. Similarly, the Act of Uniformity met with general acceptance on account of its political significance. It interdicted the celebration of Catholic rites, even in private, and the use of any liturgy except that of the Church of England, under pain of forfeiting goods and chattels and imprisonment (for life for a third offence). The service was conducted in the English language ; and as, therefore, there could be no excuse for not listening to it, everybody was ordered to attend church on Sundays and holidays, or to pay a fine of one shiUing for every non-attendance. The Protestant clergy, having been themselves persecuted, were quite ready to be perse- cutors in their turn, and the common people who had shouted with delight when Protes- tants were burned in Smithfield would have been equally pleased to see behevers in the Papacy at the stake. The Queen and Cecil were not disposed to revive the terrible spirit of the times just passed ; but there was nevertheless, at the instigation of some of the clergy, influencing the agents of the govern- ment, "a persecution, not fiery, hot and bloody, like that of the late reign, but petty, minute, destructive of individual liberty, household independence, domestic peace, and too often of property." It was a stormy and volcanic time, and the national energies were in a disturbed condition, and assumed divers contorted forms ; but the real meaning of " Protestantism against Papacy " was " England against the world." Political Reforms. While the nation was thus the subject ot very important changes in spiritual and eccle- siastical matters, it was also moving forward towards a new political and constitutional condition. An alteration took place in the representation of boroughs, hitherto limited exclusively to burghers of the towns repre- sented. Now others were allowed to be representatives, the result being that men of wealth and connected with the nobility and county families sat in the House of Commons as representatives of boroughs, and their attitude towards the crown was bolder and more independent than that which the previous representatives had dared, or indeed had been disposed, to assume. The new Parliament soon contrived to intimate to the Queen that it was not disposed to be a mere instrument of the royal will and pleasure ; and she, finding the position she had at first assumed to be untenable, with- drew from it with consummate tact, and "protested she did not mean to prejudice any part of the liberties of the House." Social State of the People. It is difficult to picture the social condition of the lower strata of the people in the Ehza- bethan times. When the young Queen came to the throne the population of the whole realm was about 5,000,000, or but httle more than the inhabitants of the "Greater London " of the Registrar-General of the present day. Wealth was concentrated in comparatively few hands ; the townsmen lived generally as few labourers would like to live now ; the poor were miserably poor indeed. We can be easily deceived by figures ; and 362 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. when we read that an ox could be bought for about fifty shiUings, a wether sheep for three or four shillings, a milch cow for five-and- thirty shillings, and a pound of butter for fourpence, we might be disposed to think that the workman or country labourer must have been poor indeed if he could not feed well. But a master mason could only earn a shilling a day, a common labourer four- pence, and a hedger or ditcher from four- pence to sixpence. Wheat was about fifty shiUings a quarter, and in some years of scarcity roSe to more than a hundred shil- lings. From these facts we may guess that meat, even at the low prices quoted, did not very frequently adorn the poor man's table ; and what kind of bread he ate we are left to conjecture. The land was literally overrun with beg- gars. One of the first public measures of Elizabeth's reign gave authority to the justices in session to assess persons for the relief of the poor, and if they refused or neglected to pay to commit them to prison. The Poor Law was growing into shape, but was yet a long way from maturity. Eliza- beth had been ten years on the throne when the preamble of an Act of Parliament averred that " all the parts of England and Wales be presently with rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars exceedingly pestered." Some of the provisions of an Act passed in the reign of Edward VI., but subsequently re- pealed, were revived, and beggars " who were vagabonds " were whipped, burnt through the gristle of the right ear with a hot iron, and virtually made slaves by being apportioned to some employer to work without wages for a year, to be imprisoned if they ran away once, treated as felons for a second offence of the kind, and very summarily hanged if they ran away a third time. The really helpless poor were to some extent taken care of at the ex- pense of the ratepayers ; but for the " rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars " there was no mercy. The line of demarcation between vagabondage and actual crime was not very distinctly marked by the local magistracy, whose chief object seems to have been to make as short work as possible in dealing with the prowhng gangs. One historian of the period says that the magistrates of Somersetshire captured a gang of a hundred at one stroke, hanged fifty at once, and then complained to the Council of the necessity of waiting till the assizes before they could hang the remaining fifty. Why, having gone so far, they should have had any scruples, is not stated, Scarcely a year passed without two or three hundred malefactors being hanged. In some districts the magistrates and county gentlemen who attended the sessions were intimidated by the threats of the sturdy beggars and other rogues ; but generally the authorities were ready enough to try the effect of the gallows in improving the morals of the community. They had precedent for the experiment, for in the course of the thirty- eight years' reign of Henry VIII. 72,000 persons had being hanged for the offence ot being thieves or vagabonds. So, at least, says Harrison, the historian ; and with nearly two thousand miserable wretches to dispose of every year the hangmen must have had a busy time. The Elizabethan officers of justice did not act on quite such a colossal scale in disposing of offenders ; but they were active enough. To quote a modern writer, " the ' merry England ' of the days of Eliza- beth was in some respects rather a terrible country to live in ; and the courtly and literary splendour which makes the sunny foreground of the picture it has spread before the imagination of all of us is set off, when the whole is uncovered, by no small force of con- trast in the black barbaric gloom of the other parts." Mercantile Enterprise. Let us pass from the shadows into the light. After the accession of Elizabeth there was a rapid increase in foreign trade. A taste for luxuries developed in the upper classes of society, side by side with the taste for Htera- ture and art ; and in the suddenly enriched middle and mercantile classes, with the increase of wealth the daily strengthening spirit of adventure and enterprise aided the more sordid commercial spirit. The credit of England with foreign merchants and capitalists was re-established, thanks to Cecil, Gresham, and others ; and the merchants of England began that competition in trading- enterprise destined to eclipse the commercial glories of Antwerp and Venice. From India, Persia, and Turkey, were imported carpets, velvets, damasks, cloth of gold, silk, perfumes, and spices. English ships visited the ports of Russia and the Baltic states, and brought back flax, furs, tallow, iron and steel, ropes, cables, and masts for ships. Home-staying capitalists started factories, and encouraged handicrafts, the manufacture of woollen fabrics especially receiving a great impulse ; and a foreign demand for English goods grew with the growth of the foreign trade. It is an evidence of the increasing luxury of the time that in 1559, the year after the accession of Elizabeth, foreign wine to the value of ^64,000 was entered at the port of London — an enormous quantity, the retail price being only on the average sevenpence a gallon ! Rovers of the Seas. There wasavery vigorous element in Enghsh society, an element destined to take part in 363 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. some of the most remarkable achievements of that remarkable time — young men of good abilities, and belonging to good families, resolute and ambitious, with ambition made more active by want of money. They met with bold seamen who had seen the wonders of the New World, who had handled the gold and silver and precious stones, tasted its luscious fruits, and heard its legends — men who had seen the richly freighted galleons sail into the Spanish ports, and men, too, who were not disposed to diminish the effect of their narratives by keeping too scrupulously on the safe side of literal truth. With such adventurous mariners young Walter Raleigh talked, when as a boy he watched the waves beating on the desert coast. With such men a hundred others, older and ready to take part in any daring venture, held converse at London, Bristol, and Falmouth. There were already " rovers of the seas," young men of family driven to what was really little better than piracy by the persecutions and political changes which had deprived them of their heritages ; and they found in the new attitude of England towards foreign powers, in the imminence of a contest with Spain, new opportunities. Some of them had, during the war with France, received commissions ; and on return of peace they had been formally censuredfor their misdeedSjbut not punished; for there was no regular navy, and the services of the daring, able seamen, who not unfrequently boarded a foreign vessel in the British Channel, and whose respect for inter- national law was extremely slight, might be again needed. Among these bold spirits were representatives of the Carews, Kilh- grews, Tremaynes, Throgmortons, Cob- hams, and other families of repute. On Elizabeth's accession some had become servants of the Crown ; one of the most famous. Sir Edward Horsey, was appointed governor of the Isle of Wight, and Harry Killigrew, of a Cornish family, was employed as a confidential agent of the Court. Leaders cast in this mould soon found followers among the fishermen of the coast, hardy fellows whose trade decHned when the Catholics, who ordered much fish to be eaten, were displaced by Protestants who did not observe fast days. They were willing enough to follow the fortunes of the dashing young fellows who had contrived to raise funds for fitting out a ship or two, and ventured into the broad Atlantic to look out for Spanish ships with treasure on board. Sometimes a rich prize was made ; but sometimes the EngUsh rovers got the worst of the encounter, and were taken prisoners to Spain, where such of them as had the courage to stand by their Protestantism were handed over to the Inquisition and burnt as heretics. A writer in the Edinbtirs[h Review de- scribes the adventurous spirit which charac- terized the age : " Maritime expedition and colonization were the favourite undertakings and projects of the more enterprising and active speculators of that stirring period. The ocean and the New World attracted all their actions and thoughts. The more daring and adventurous fitted out cruisers to inter- cept the Spanish ships on their return with rich cargoes from the colonies ; while those who aimed at plantations and the extension of commerce looked to the northern parts of America as the appropriate field of their nobler exertions." Maritime Adventures. The expedition to the coast of Africa by William Hawkins has been already mentioned. Hawkins was accompanied on that voyage by his son, the more famous John, whose memory bears the disgrace of the first systematic slave trading by an Englishman. In 1562, four years after the accession of Elizabeth, John Hawkins and Thomas Hampton fitted out three vessels, and with a hundred men sailed for Sierra Leone, where they collected three hundred negroes (readily enough sold by the native chiefs, who probably failed to see why they should be more scrupulous about dealing in human flesh than were the clever white men who offered tempting prices for the dusky cargo), and took them to St. Domingo, where they were sold as slaves. King Philip, how- ever, would not sanction thelransaction. It is only charitable to suppose that humanity had as much to do with this determination as desire to annoy an Englishman ; but the negroes were retained, although the hides which Hawkins had purchased with the price of the slaves, and sent to Cadiz, were con- fiscated when they reached that port. The seamen of that, day were not easily discouraged, and Hawkins was in some re- spects a typical man. A second expedition was fitted out ; and Elizabeth actually gave the leader one of the best ships in the ser- vice to be employed in the trade. The name of this ship was the Jesics ; but we have no record that any of the ardent religionists about the Court, any of the zealous Protes- tants or eloquent preachers, noticed the unfit- ness of the name. It may be that the Queen resented the action of Philip, whom she no doubt heartily detested ; but it is quite cer- tain that she more than once condescended to take a share in what might prove a profitable venture — and, after all, they were only black heathens who were to be stolen. In those days men and women of culture were rather hard- hearted. Not only did the Queen thus aid Hawkins, but she gave another ship to Davis Carlet, bound on a similar expedition. Haw- kins captured or purchased from Portuguese 364 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. traders about four hundred slaves, — not, how- ever, without escaping many dangers, as, with an edifying piety he acknowledged, by " the aid of Almighty God, who never suffers His elect to perish." Achievements of Drake. The great sailor of the age was Francis Drake, a kinsman of Hawkins. He was the eldest of the twelve sons of Edward Drake, a sailor, and was born in 1545, near Tavis- tock, in Devonshire. Hawkins noticed the ability and spirit of the lad, and took him to sea with him. At eighteen he was purser of a ship, and at twenty-two captain of a vessel named the Jiidith. He behaved gallantly in an action at St. John d'Ulloa in the Gulf of Mexico, and returned to England, as he him- self said, " with a great reputation, and with- out a groat " — not an uncommon condition with the bold, reckless adventurers of the time. His ship's company included a chap- lain, who probably fitted his divinity to the latitudes in which he chanced to be cruising, and he had advised Drake on a question of casuistry. " The case," he said, " is clear : the King of Spain's subjects have undone Mr. Drake, and therefore Mr. Drake is at liberty to take the best satisfaction he can on the subjects of the King of Spain." This doctrine, we are told, " how rudely soever preached, was very taking in England." In 1570 Drake sailed on his first expedition, with two ships, the Dragon and the Swan, landed on the Isthmus of Darien, which he crossed, and then returned to England with a good booty. In the following year he made a less success- ful voyage in the Swan alone. He started on a third expedition from Plymouth on the 24th of March, 1572 — himself in the Pascha, of seventy tons ; and his brother in the Swan, only twenty-five tons. With such small vessels did the knights-errant of the ocean seek adventures in those days of daring. The crew consisted of seventy-five men and boys. In July he reached the Mexican coast, and attacked the town of N ombre de Dios, near which were rich silver mines. The town was taken by storm ; but Drake himself was dangerously wounded, and the adventurers were afterwards compelled to retreat to their ships, having obtained very little booty. The town of Venta Cruz was next attacked and captured, and a small amount of plunder obtained, but more from a train of fifty mules laden with plate which Drake's followers met on the way. They carried off as much as they could, and buried the rest. In these exploits they were assisted by some of the native Indians, who hated the Spanish with a very intelligible hatred, and as yet believed in the superior virtues of the English rovers. The chief, or prince, of the Indians gave Drake four large wedges of gold in exchange for a cutlass. With a seaman's generosity Drake gave this treasure to the common stock, saying " he thought it but just that such as bore the charge of so un- certain a voyage on his credit should share to the utmost in the advantages that voyage produced." On the 9th of August, 1573, the weather-beaten sails of the returning ships were seen from Plymouth Hoe, and Drake and his comrades received the congratulations of the townsmen on the success of their ven- ture — which some unromantic persons might describe as of a piratical character. Drake's restless energy would not allow him to repose. While awaiting opportunity for making another sea venture, he served as a soldier in Ireland, where there was plenty of fighting, and where, too, there was occasionally a little "loot," as it is called now-a-days. There he so distinguished him- self that on his return Sir Christopher Hatton introduced him to the Queen. He was soon afterwards at the head of a fleet of five small vessels (the largest only of eighty tons), with 164 men; and in December, 1577, started from Falmouth to achieve the great adventure of his career. He sailed through the Straits of Maghaelan into the Pacific, plundered with patriotic (and perhaps a little private) zeal the Spanish towns on the coasts of Chili and Peru, and then sailing westward touched at the East Indies and returned home by way of the Cape of Good Hope. He was the first Englishman who had sailed round the world ; and it is no wonder that when he reached Deptford Elizabeth warmly wel- comed the bold seaman who had rivalled the greatest achievements of the vaunted Spanish navigators. She visited his ship, the Golden Hind, at Deptford, and knighted Drake, who was henceforth in great favour. In 1585-6 he was busy in the West Indies, doing all the damage he could to Spanish ships and Spanish towns ; and a year afterwards commanded thirty ships in an expedition to Cadiz. It was known that Philip was pre- paring a great fleet for the invasion of England, and Drake's orders were to attack and destroy as many ships as he could. With amazing daring he entered Cadiz roads, passed the batteries, and in one day, the 19th of April, 1587, burned a hundred vessels and possessed himself of an immense booty ; and having quitted the roads before the Spaniards had recovered from their panic, sailed along the coast burning and plundering. Then he steered for the Azores, looking out for homeward-bound treasure- ships, and encountered and captured an enormous " carrack," the richest prize ever taken at sea. This he brought in triumph to Plymouth, and the heads of his country- men were nearly turned b}' the arrival of booty worth about a million sterling. 365 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Seeking a North-West Passage. But Francis Drake, although the most brilhantly successful seaman of his time, had rivals in the spirit of adventure. The pos- sibility of a north-western passage to the Indies was even then suggested. In July, 1576, Martin Frobisher left England with two small vessels (the largest only of twenty-five tons) and a pinnace, reached the coast of Greenland, and made an unsuccessful ex- ploration of a strait which he supposed would afford the desired passage. He returned to England and prepared another expedition. The coast of Greenland was again reached, but few discoveries were made, except of stones which " sparkle and glister in the sun like gold," and the horn of a "sea-unicorn," into which some spiders being put imme- diately died, and that was, according to some very astute axiom, a sure proof of " great store of gold." Two women (Esquimaux probably) were also captured, one of whom was so ugly that the sailors suspected her to be the devil, and would not be convinced to the contrary until they had stripped off her boots of skins, to see whether she had a cloven foot. In the following year the Queen sent Frobisher on a third voyage, to take possession of the land he had discovered ; and 120 persons accom- panied him, intending to establish a colony ; but the ice barred the passage, and the ex- pedition returned, with no other gain than a large quantity of the "glistering stones," which were generally believed to indicate the presence of gold, but were most probably pieces of the beautiful iridescent spar found abundantly in Labrador. England was hungering for gold, and no simple country lad ever tramped to London with greater belief in the existence of the golden pavement than that with which the adventurers of the Ehzabethan age dared the perils of the sea in search of Dorados in the western world. In 1585, John Davis, of Sandridge, in Devonshire, with two ships, reached the coast of Greenland, which he called " the land of desolation ; " then steering to the north-west, he saw a high mountain, "glit- tering like gold " (gold again !), to which he gave the name Mount Raleigh. For sixty leagues Davis sailed up a strait (now known as Cumberland Inlet), but was compelled to return. He made two other voyages subse- quently, but with small practical result. His name is still preserved in Davis Straits. Then there were the expeditions to the American coast by Sir Humphrey Gilbert (ending so pathetically), and by captains sent out by Walter Raleigh ; the discovery and settlement of Virginia ; and afterwards Raleigh's own voyage to Guiana, and attempt to reach "the golden land," and his marvellous narrative, so grandly told, of the beauties and natural wealth of the country. About the same time, too, Thomas Candish, or Cavendish, emulating the achievement of Drake, passed through the Maghaelan Strait and attacked the Spanish towns on the South American coast. He sailed round the world, and returned with abundance of wealth, and was knighted by the Queen ; but soon spent his money, undertook another voyage, met with no success, and died broken-hearted on his way home. Rise of the East India Company. While daring men of adventurous minds were turning their thoughts to the western world, India, the " Cathay," that powerful magnet of attraction to the merchants of Europe, was the bright particular star to which the more sober-minded wealth-seekers turned their eyes. The Turkey company sent expeditions through Syria to Bagdad, and down the Tigris to the Persian Gulf, whence India was reached ; and other expeditions made their way by sea round the Cape of Good Hope. Agents were despatched to the court of the Great Mogul ; associations of merchants were formed in London for the purpose of establishing a trade with India, and towards the close of her reign Elizabeth granted a charter of incorporation to " the governor and company of the merchants of London trading with the East Indies." What the East India Company grew to, we all know, and we all know, too, that Queen Victoria is now Empress of India ; but the seeds of that greatness were sown in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Shattering the Great Armada. The time came at last for the supreme trial of strength between England, a few years before so weak, and Spain, claiming to be the mistress of the world, but already toppling on the pinnacle of greatness. We need not repeat the familiar story of the great Armada. The world never saw — unless perhaps when the Persians under Xerxes invaded little Greece — so great an array as the gigantic fleet which, under the command of the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, set sail for England in 1588. All England was afire with excite- ment and patriotism when the great news came. The nation breathed with a new life. Elizabeth marshalled the troops on land, ready to repel the invaders, covered her golden locks with a steel helmet, enclosed her spare figure in an iron corslet, and having dubbed as knight " the bold lady of Cheshire, Lady Mary Cholmondeley," mounted a charger and made a brave speech to the army gathered at Tilbury. " I am come amongst you," she said, "not for my recrea- tion and disport, but being resolved in the midst of the heat of the battle to live or die 366 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. amongst you all. I know I have the body of a weak, feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a King, and of a King of England too ! " There spoke the spirit of England by the mouth of England's Oueen. Howard of Effingham, Raleigh, Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and many other heroes of the sea, encountered the great Armada in the Channel, and scattered it. A violent storm completed the work of de- struction ; the naval supremacy of Spain was destroyed for ever, and England gained the title, so proudly worn for three centuries, of "mistress of the seas." Splendid Literary Development. Contemporaneously with this marvellous development of the power of England in its external aspects, there was an intellectual development even more remarkable. The last thirty years of the sixteenth century in this country were made illustrious by the birth and growth of an imaginative literature of almost unrivalled splendour. Thomas Campbell — and there could scarcely be found a more competent critic — says, in the intro- duction to his " Specimens of the British Poets " :— " In the reign of Elizabeth, the English mind put forth its energies in every direction, exalted by a purer religion and enlarged by new views of truth. This was an age of loyalty, adventure, and generous emulation. The chivalrous character was softened by intellectual pursuits, while the genius of chivalry itself still lingered, as if unwilling to depart, and paid his last homage to a warlike and female reign. A degree of romantic fancy remained in the manners and supersti- tion of the people ; and allegory might be said to parade the streets in their public pageants and festivities. Quaint and pedantic as these allegorical exhibitions might often be, they were nevertheless more expressive of erudition, ingenuity, and moral meaning than they had been in former times. The philo- sophy of the highest minds still partook of a visionary character. A political spirit infused itself into the practical heroism of the age ; and some of the worthies of that period seem less like ordinary men than like beings called forth out of fiction, and arrayed in the brightness of dreams. They had high thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy. The life of Sir Philip Sidney is poetry put into action." The acquaintance with the French and Italian languages, possessed by most of the cultured class, and the attention given to the study of the classic authors of Greece and Rome, improved the taste and stimulated the imagination of those who possessed poetic sympathy. A few years before Eliza- beth ascended the throne. Sir Thomas Wyatt and the Earl of Surrey had produced many charming poems, inspired by genuine senti- ment ; and to the latter is due the introduc- tion of blank verse into English literature. Puttenham, the author of the " Art of English Poesy," published in 1589, says, "In the latter end of King Henry VIII.'s reign sprang up a new company of courtly makers [poets], of whom Sir Thomas Wyatt the elder and Henry Earl of Surrey were the two chieftains, who, having travelled into Italy, and there tasted the sweet and stately measures and style of the Italian poetry, as novices newly crept out of the schools of Dante, Ariosto, and Petrarch, they greatly polished our rude and homely manner of poesy." It has been said of Sir Philip Sidney, that he " trod from his cradle to his grave amid incense and flowers, and died in a dream of joy." His verses are graceful and animated ; his prose more poetical than most poetry. One critic has declared that " Sidney's is a wonderful style, always flexible, harmonious, and luminous, and on fit occasions rising to great stateliness and splendour ; while a breath of beauty and noble feeling lives in and exhales from the whole of his great work like the fragrance from a garden of flowers." His "great work" is "The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia," inscribed to his sister. A greater poet than Sidney was his friend Edmund Spenser, " the poets' poet," as he has been styled. Some of Spenser's earlier poems are exquisite. He wrote from the impulses of a passionate, loving heart, when he addressed "the widow's daughter of the glen," Rosalind, probably Rose Daniel, a sister of another poet ; and when he married Miss Nagle, an Irish girl, he wrote the " Epithalamium," of which Hallam says, " I do not know any other nuptial song, ancient or modern, of equal beauty. It is an intoxi- cation of extasy, ardent, noble, and pure." Spenser was the friend of Raleigh (the " Colin Clout" of his poems), with whom he became acquainted in Ireland, and by him was intro duced to friends of kindred tastes. His great poem, " The Fairy Queen," the first three books of which appeared in 1 590 and the remainder six years afterwards, is beyond question one of the great poems of the world. It is an allegory, but so interspersed with incident that it rivals in personal interest the great epic romances of Italy ; and the grace and beauty of the language, and the command of a difficult metre, are no less admirable than the mingled delicacy and vigour of description, and the exquisite fancy and imaginative power which pervade it. It is a succession of pictures, a continuous strain of music ; and eye and ear are alike gratified, the one by the chivalrous and lovely figures which fill the scene, the other by the melody, so flexible and so sweet, so spirited and so tender, which accompanies the pa- 367 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. geant, or seems to float in the air above " heavenly Una and her milk-white lamb." Of lesser poets there were many : Walter Raleigh, Samuel Daniel, Michael Drayton, Thomas Sackville, and others ; but the poetic development was preparing to assume, as we shall presently show, another form — the dra- matic, and in that form to achieve its highest triumph. Prose began to emulate poetry in dig- nity and sonorous beauty, and the writings of the historians and thinkers of the time exhibit a considerable advance on the rugged, if vigorous productions of their immediate pre- decessors. The period is marked by the appearance of the first portion of Hooker's " Ecclesiastical Pohty ; " and we are told by a critic of great ability that " Hooker's style is almost without a rival for its sustained dignity of march ; but that which makes it most remarkable is its union of all this learned gravity and correctness with a flow of genuine, racy English, as untinctured with pedantry of any kind as anything that came from the pen of the most familiar and care- less of popular writers." This characteristic, indeed, arising from the consciousness of strength, and the ease of manner ensuing from that knowledge, marks all the best productions of the time. There was, indeed, a great outbreak of affectation, the " sestheti- cism " of the time, the high priest of which was John Lyly, a man of genius, with a crotchet, who has been ridiculed by Shake- speare in Love's Labour Lost, and by Scott in " The Monastery ; " but the affecta- tion, popular for a time, soon wore away. The spirit of the age was too earnest for such trifling to affect it permanently. Towards the latter part of the period George Chapman produced a portion of his noble translation of Homer, the perusal of which made John Keats (who should have lived in the Eliza- bethan, not the Georgian age) feel as he imagined Cortez felt when, "silent upon a peak in Darien,"he first gazed on the Pacific. Philosophy was in the throes of a new birth ; but as yet Francis Bacon was only a law student of brilliant promise, and his great achievements in recasting the philosophical method were reserved for the next reign. Shakspeare the Symbol of the Age. The most remarkable literary feature of this illustrious time was the springing into existence, by a bound as it were, of the Enghsh drama. In twenty years after Eliza- beth's accession forty-six regular tragedies had been produced, and young men of genius were devoting themselves to dramatic poetry. There were Peele and Greene, and many others; and Marlowe, who except one, the greatest of all poets, was the most powerful dramatic poet of the time. Then Shakspeare appeared on the scene, and the triumph was complete. His consummate genius — his in- stinctive mastery of the expression of all human emotions — his creative power, which never mistook words for realities, rhetoric for passion or grief — his imagination, fancy, wit, and humour, mark him out as the unique figure not only of the Elizabethan age, but of all ages and all countries. Universal as he is in his sympathies, he is in a special sense the microcosm of the Elizabethan time. It was an age of adventure, and the brave spirit of the time echoes in his chivalrous lines. It was an age when new worlds were opening to the vision of men, and from the "still vexed Bermoothes" came the inspiration which took shape in the enchanted isle where dwelt Prospero and Miranda. It was an age when the national spirit was evoked, when chains had been broken, and England stood free before the world ; and the historic plays are the very embodiment of the heroic English spirit. Harry of Agincourt exclaims, as in effect Elizabeth exclaimed at Tilbury, " Our hearts are in the trim ; " Falconbridge echoed the national outburst when the shadow of the Armada darkened the waves of the Channel, in saying " Come the three corners of the world in arm^s, and we shall shock them ;" and the words of John, "No Italian priest shall tithe or toll in my dominions," was the key-note of the Reformation. The intense nationality which animated English- men finds expression in old John of Gaunt's descriptive epithets: — ' ' This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle . . . This precious stone set in the silver sea . . . This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England ! " It was a time when the passionate and pic- turesque romances and legends of southern Europe were acclimatized in England, and we have the loves of " Juliet and her Romeo," and the grim figure of Shylock. It was a time when the dim legends and antique chronicles of our own land were coming into the light, and there are Lear and Imogen and Macbeth. It was a time when classic literature and biography were studied ; and in Shakspeare's pages Achilles and Hector, Andromache and Cassandra, Brutus and Coriolanus, Antony and Cleopatra, live again, not as antique statues, but informed with the life which creative genius can alone impart. Ben Jonson, rising into fame as Elizabeth's yellow hair turned grey, has paid Shakspeare the magnificent compliment that " he was not for an age, but for all time." This is true in one sense ; but in another sense he was for one age, and that the most illustrious period in our national annals — " the spacious times of great Elizabeth." G. R. E 368 Frederick the Cheat. THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. AND WHAT LED TO IT. European Affairs— Maria Theresa- Frederick the Second of Prussia-The Beginning of the War of Succession- Battle of Mollwitz— AfiTairs in England-State of Europe-Progress of the War— I'he British Cabinet— The King in Cermany ~-ru r- D.ettmgen- Defeat of the French— Incidents of the Battle— Marshal Saxe and the Invasion of England — 1 he Campaign ot 1744— 1 he English Alliance-The Campaign in Flanders— The Siege of Tournai- Battle of l-ontenoy- British Bravery-lhe French Repulsed-English Hard Pressed-Defection of the Dutch 'Irocr.— I he Kesult— foreign Opinions of the Fight at Foiitenoy— Conclusion Affairs in Europe. N the 20th October, 1740, the Emperor Charles the Sixth died, leaving as the successor to his crown his daughter, Maria Theresa. The Emperor had died in the hope and 369 behef that he had made the succession sure. He had endeavoured by all means in his power to arrange that his daughter should peacefully succeed, and had managed to ob- tain the agreement (termed the Pragmatic Sanction) to her undisturbed succession, by B B EPOCHS AND EPISODES OE HISTORY. parting with various slices of territory to the reigning houses. Maria Theresa had married Stephen of Lorraine, but neither he nor his ministers were very resolute in Government. We have testimony to their irresolution and despair in emergencies. But no sooner had the Emperor died, than all the watch-dogs to which he had cast bones, in the shape of territory, forgot the bones, and came to fight over his possessions. They forgot all about the Pragmatic Sanction, and feeling assured that in this instance might was right, they pounced upon the poor little princess en masse. Frederick the Great annexed Silesia, Charles Albert was elected emperor, while Spain followed the example of France, although the latter was free to move, having made no promises. Prussia made the first stir. The old king was dead, and Frederick the Second had succeeded. Maria Theresa, Queen of Hungary, sent advices to the crowned heads informing them of the death of the Emperor ; and when the Elector of Bavaria received the news he declared that it was impossible to acknow- ledge her as Queen of Hungary and Bohemia, "because of his pretensions to the Emperor's succession, which he was resolved to make good." He confirmed this opinion in inter- views with the Ambassadors at his Court, and claimed the throne, in consequence of the will of Ferdinand, whose Austrian estates had been left to his daughter, failing male issue, and he, the Elector, was descended from that daughter. Prussia and Saxony, however, promised to maintain the Pragmatic Sanction, also, if necessary, to send troops, and France was particularly energetic ; but on the 14th of December, having meanwhile kept up the greatest protestations of friendship, Frederick of Prussia marched nearly 30,000 men into Silesia with speed. The Beginning of the War. So quietly were the measures of the young King taken, that his sudden departure for the army one evening from a masked ball excited considerable surprise. He had arranged with the French Ambassador to play the game. " I am going," said the King, "to play your game, I think, but if I throw doublets we will share the stakes" (Voltaire). Frederick the Great declared that he must protect Silesia "in the preservation and prosperity whereof we have the more inte- rested ourselves, as it serves for a defence and bulwark to our territories in the empire" ; and he proceeded to explain in his manifesto that he only took Silesia and carried war into it, for fear of somebody else doing the same thing so near his own dominions ! "We have no intention," he says, "of disobliging Her Majesty of Hungary, with whom we evidently desire to maintain a strict friendship, and to contribute to her real interest and preservation"; and he concluded by warning the Silesians that if any trouble arose they would only have themselves to thank for it. No opposition was made by the people, and so quickly was the seizure made that there were not wanting people who declared that the whole arrange- ment had been concocted between the King of Prussia and Maria Theresa herself. Such a sudden step as this naturally astonished the other nations of Europe, yet Austria was not a power to be defied with impunity. Frederick, however, was diplo- matic. He sent to Maria Theresa to tell her what he intended to do, and suggested that she should quietly cede to him Lower Silesia. If she would consent he would assist her He named his price, but the Queen declined, and declared she would never make any terms with him; and when the hypocritical manifesto was published, as above quoted, it only added fuel to the flame of the Queen's wrath. The Prussian Minister quittedVienna, and on the 22nd of December Frederick entered Breslau without bloodshed. But at Otmachan a more spirited resist- ance was offered, and the drummer who was beating the parley was shot dead. An attack was immediately made upon the place, and in twenty-four hours it surrendered. In one or two other places the Austrians made a stout resistance, and at the town of Neiss they obliged the Prussians to retire and com- mence a siege. Frederick then left the command of his army to Marshal Schwerin, and returned to Berlin to hurry up more troops. A good deal of desultory fighting went on, and the Prussian forces were greatly strengthened in Silesia; and in King George's speech at the opening of Parliament in London in April 1741, the war then going on was alluded to, with other incidents, " as events that require the utmost care and at- tention, as they may involve all Europe in a bloody war. The Queen of Hungary has already demanded the 12,000 men expressly stipulated by treaty, and thereupon I have demanded of the King of Denmark and the King of Sweden, as Landgraves of Hesse Cassel, their respective bodies of 6,000 men each." Both Houses assured His Majesty that they would assist him in defending such a righteous cause as that of the Queen of Hungary. So England was already pre- paring for the struggle, and determined to uphold her treaties. The Battle of Mollwitz. Maria Theresa was now thoroughly roused to action. She appealed to her people, and collected a small army, about 20,000 men. 370 THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. At the head of this force she placed Marshal Neuperg, who had just been released from prison. He advanced to Neiss, where the Prussian army was still occu pied, and taking Grotkau on his way, fell in with the enemy at MoUwitz, and a severe battle ensued. The Prussians took the Austrians somewhat by surprise, for the snow was deep; but not- withstanding this advantage the Austrians at first succeeded in driving back their an- tagonists, and the Prussian troops took to flight, carrying with them Frederick, then not the Great, as he was the first to fly. It is related of him in this battle that when his baggage was captured by the Austrian cavalry he mounted his horse and saying to his companions, " Farewell, gentlemen, I am better mounted than any of you"; he rode away leaving his friends to be captured by the Austrian hussars. This fact is vouched for by one of those thus left by the King to the British Ambassador, Things would have gone badly with the army but for the steady bravery of the Prussian infantry. The engagement lasted four hours, and the Austrians had almost assured themselves of victory when the infantry changed the for- tunes of the fight. Marshal Schwerin held his ground, and the Austrians were obliged to retire with a loss of 5,000 men, although the Prussians lost nearly as many. Very little can be said for the King of Prussia, and he himself confessed that he and the Austrians had been trying who could make most mistakes ; but there is no doubt that Frederick had a lesson he never forgot. After this engagement the Austrians crossed the river, and fortified themselves opposite, while the Prussians pushed on to Brieg, and after a short investment the famous Piccolomini was obliged to capitulate. It was about this time that George II. proceeded to Hanover against the advice of VValpole, who had a good deal to contend against there just then. England had already given her adhesion to the Pragmatic Sanction, and troops and money had been voted. But some idea got into the heads of the com- munity that the King was mainly interested in defending Maria Theresa, because he was afraid of his own Hanoverian possessions, Hanover never had been very popular in England ; the evident German tendencies of the Sovereign Electors " stank in the nostrils " of the English people, and Pulteney even declared in the House that England ought not and could not go to war to preserve Hanoverian territory. But Walpole replied, explaining that England was bound to pro- tect Maria Theresa by treaty, and in support of the balance of power in Europe to repress the ambition of the French,and to preserve the national independence. However, the subsidy to the Queen of Hungary was voted to the I amount of ^300,000 ; and though the vote I had been taken without a division. Lord j Carteret took care to inform the Court at I Vienna that Walpole had been compelled to I bring in the measure against his wishes, and" so the young Queen took a decided dislike to the Minister, and declined his advice when subsequently it was proffered. The Plot Thickens. It was while things were in this condition that Parliament was prorogued, and new writs were issued. The King came over to Hanover as aforesaid, and got into a state of alarm concerning his Electorate. The de- feat of the Austrians had been more disastrous politically, perhaps, than actually in the field of battle. No sooner were the successes of the King of Prussia announced than a horde of vultures made ready to swoop upon the carcase of Austria so soon as Frederick had killed the empire. But like those birds, the Powers did not wait for the death of the victim. Austria was down, and apparently helpless in the dust, and so the vultures came round clamouring for a share of the prey. Spain, Sardinia, and Poland came, and France, seeing the great success of the Prussians, thought an alliance with' the young king would be very advantageous. Frederick had already hinted to the French ambas- sador (as related above) that he would give him a share in the spoils, and Marshal de Belleisle was dispatched to conclude a treaty upon the following terms : — (i) The Elector of Bavaria was to be raised to the imperial dignity. (2) The dominions of the Queen of Hun- gary were to be divided. (3) The King of Prussia was to obtain Silesia, renouncing the Duchies of Julius and Berg, and to vote for the Elector of Bavaria as the Emperor Charles VII, (4) France was to send tw^o armies into the Empire to help Bavaria and defeat the English, and to keep all they could get for themselves — the Netherlands if possible. These were very nice terms indeed, and — to employ the words used in England sub- sequently — " sure never was poor princess in worse plight than Her Majesty of Hungary"! The French emissary appeared, determined to despoil her of everything, and judging from history he seems to have even exceeded his instructions. "He seemed," says Frederick himself, " as if he thought that all the terri- tories of the Queen of Hungary were already on sale to the highest bidder." Walpole was most desirous to come to terms, and tried all his resources of diplomacy in Prussia and 571 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Austria, before he would consent to armed intervention. He attempted an appeal to the feelings of the King of Prussia, and failed. The King would have his bond. On the other hand, Maria Theresa was advised to relinquish a little to save the larger portion of her dominions, but she would not hear of the Prussian claim; and even when she con- sented partly, she expressed a hope that her enemy would refuse her terms. He did. But while Walpole, through the ambas- sadors, was thus negotiating, or attempting to negotiate. King George was in a most terrible fright concerning his Electorate of Hanover. The aUiance of the French filled him with fear ; it would never do to have Hanover annexed. So we read that he sent an envoy to arrange a neutrality treaty for a year. Frederick himself relates this as a fact. So Hanover was neutral, while Saxony gave up the Pragmatic Sanction without much pressure ; for while Walpole and King George had been talking, Frederick and France had concluded the treaty above mentioned. No time had been lost in France. Cardinal Henry was quite put on the shelf; hints were thrown out to the Jacobites to worry England ; and Marshal Maillebois advanced upon Hanover, where he induced King George to stipulate for neutrality, and another army marched into Bavaria, where they subdued Lintz, and pushed forward to Vienna, where Maria Theresa then was, and in a condition quite unfit to travel. But her enemies gave her no choice. She had to fly into Hungary with her infant child, and daily expecting another. Her husband and his brother remained to defend the capital. In England, meantime, popular opinion had declared itself very firmly against the King's action respecting the treaty of Han- over. It was freely denounced, and when the King returned he was not in the best of tempers at what he had agreed to. At the opening of Parliament in Detember, he ex- pressed a hope that the Continental powers would see the error of their ways in attack- ing the (2ueen of Hungary, The war with Spain had not been fortunate, and there was much discontent manifested on this account beside. The Progress of the War. Meanwhile the allies had been making way. They had driven the Queen away from Vienna, but did not attack the city, they marched into Bohemia and attacked Prague ; and yet with all their undaunted sagacity, the oppressors of the unfortunate young Queen had permitted her to escape, which was an error, for her personal popularity in Hungary was very great. Putting aside her personal charms,— and she is described by contemporary chroniclers as very beautiful and winning as well as dignified, — she had much tact, and acquiesced in Hungarian customs to please her subjects. She reaped her reward. When she arrived at Presburg she, carry- ing her little son in her arms, addressed the assembled " magnates " in Latin in ai most effective and affecting manner. They could not resist her appeals. She pushed the words home, and drove them into their hearts with the address — "The kingdom of Hungary, our person, our children, our crown are at stake. Forsaken by all, we seek shelter only in the fidelity, the arms, the hereditary valour of the renowned Hun- garian States ! " Was it in human nature to resist this, emphasized by a Queen — a beauti- ful, pleading, unhappy woman, holding up her child for protection? — No. All present clashed their swords and shouted enthusi- astically, " Our lives and our blood for your Majesty. We will die for our King — Maria Theresa ! " The enthusiasm did not end there. Once determined, no time was lost. The " fiery cross " was sent through the land, and all flew to arms for their beautiful Queen. Never had monarch such a following : rich and poor, town and village aroused themselves and each other to succour the distressed woman, and to avenge the Sovereign. Far and wide went the call to arms ; from near and far came the answer ever the same, in old Magyar tones, and with all the chivalrous accent of the race, "We will die for our Queen ! " But they were too late to help Prague. Notwithstanding the welcome English sub- sidy, which reached them, — an immense boon to the impoverished country, — the troops did not reach Prague before it had fallen, and the Bohemians, with the French, had elected the Elector of Bavaria Emperor. He was subsequently crowned as Charles VII. Success had also attended the Prussian arms. Breslau was occupied without loss ; and at last, after some negotiations not altogether free from the suspicion of men- dacity, Lower Silesia was abandoned to Frederick the Great, who gave his word of honour that he would not " attempt any more against her Hungarian Majesty." So the Austrians remained satisfied, and the allies were astonished at the withdrawal of the Prussians. But, remarks the Royal historian of his own times, "this temptation was too great to be resisted, the enemy being willing to rest satisfied with a verbal com- munication which would acquire provinces to Prussia and winter quarters for her army fatigued with eleven months of military labour." " Put not your trust in princes " has been more than once quoted against the 372 THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. 373 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY, anointed of the people ; but seldom has a more barefaced instance of duplicity been confessed by its author. Frederick returned to Berlin, indeed ; but left secret instructions to Schwerin to advance at the proper time, and these instructions the marshal carried out with care. He waited until December and its snowstorms had sent the Austrian army under shelter, and then he made a dash upon Moldavia before the enemy could in any way ward off the attack. Olmutz fell ; but the Austrians pulled themselves together at last, and, in revenge, swooped down upon the French armies and obliged them to re- treat, thus invading Bohemia, and causing the retirement of the Bavarians from Prague. The New English Cabinet. The year 1742 saw the retirement of Wal- pole and a truce concluded between Prussia and Austria. Frederick the Great had put himself at the head of the armies of Saxony and Prussia ; but the contest was evidently not relished by the former State. Saxony was very lukewarm in the business, and the King let them go, winning a victory at Chotwitz in May, and thereby impressing the Austrians very much. This defeat in- duced the Queen to proffer terms ; and aided by England, which had been endeavouring to cause the enemies to arrange a truce, the treaty was signed. The Queen agreed to cede Upper and Lower Silesia, the province of Glatz, and a district of Moravia ; Frede- rick, on his part, engaging to remain neutral during that war, and to recall his troops within a fortnight. Frederick had been rather suspicious con- cerning his allies, the French, and now by this treaty he compelled them to retire from the contest also ; but they had penetrated so far that it was a matter of some difficulty for them to retreat. They had to suffer im- mense loss in the retrograde movement they were thus compelled to make ; but Marshal Belleisle was equal to the task. He managed to withdraw his men — or, more correctly, a portion of them — for out of the 3 5, 000 who had marched into Austrian territory only 8,000 remained. The other army still sup- ported the Elector of Bavaria, or the Emperor, as he preferred to be styled. This retreat of Belleisle's was extolled by French historians ; but, as a matter of_ fact, the people turned it into a jest, and ridiculed it as heartily as did Frederick the Great. In November 1742, the English Cabinet, with Lord Carteret as Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, formed what was termed the "Drunken Administration "; for the Secretary himself was seldom sober. He seems to have had his wits about him occasionally, at any rate, combined with a desire to serve number one (and the King) for his sake. George was very anxious to come forth as a commander ; and his Minister, although previously opposed to the trans- mission of soldiers to the Continent, now agreed to it. So troops had been sent during the recess ; and Hessian infantry had been enrolled to reinforce this British contingent. In the King's speech, on the i6th November, he announced that he had caused the soldiers to be sent, and defended the increase of the British force in the low countries as a necessary step. The 16,000 of the Electoral troops had been despatched with the Hes- sians in British pay to support the House of Austria. These proceedings met with the approval of both houses, and the necessary vote was passed for the expenses in Decem- ber. Notwithstanding this agreement by the Ministry the people did not, as a body, approve of these measures ; and the Oppo- sition took advantage of the excitement against the employment of mercenaries to annoy the Ministry. But the money was voted, and in April 1743, Parliament having been prorogued, the King and his son, the Duke of Cumberland, crossed over to Han- over. Things in Germany now began to look as if they were coming to a climax. The French seemed scarcely to have appreciated the fact that the British were in earnest. But when it was discovered that the Earl of Stair was advancing, they took steps to intercept him, sent 10,000 men across the Rhine, and proceeded to raise an additional army of 40,000 to oppose the advance. The King and his son set sail from Green- wich, and made little progress owing to a contrary wind, so they put back to Sheerness, where they remained until the ist of May. The wind then being favourable they pro- ceeded, and reached Hanover as speedily as possible, while more troops were forwarded to Flanders to support those who had been advancing under Lord Stair's command in Germany. Meanwhile the Austrians had been by no means idle or unsuccessful. Although the French had driven them once from Bavaria, the Austrians about this time repaid the debt, and advancing to Braunau drove their enemies out, and the Due de Broglie retired to the Rhine, while the Due de Noailles kept Lord Stair in view. But the English and their Austrian allies did not appear in any hurry. They did not reach the Rhine till May, and took up a position near Frankfort to await the Hano- verians and Hessians. The Emperor had retired to Frankfort after the defeat of the French army in Bavaria, and so far there was no reason why Lord Stair could not have seized him. It is a question whether it was worth invading a free town for such a doubtful advantage. The Dutch had by this 574 THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. time passed the resolution to support the British with 20,000 men, which were "to encamp between Namur and Maestriche." The Battle of Dettingen. Lord Stair had about 40,000 troops at his disposal, and De Noailles, who came up on the opposite side of the river Main, had about 60,000 men under him. It is remarkable that all this time no declaration of war had been made by either France or England. On the 9th of June, Lord Stair, who had apparently made a mistake in moving from his position, passed up beside the Main, and on the i6th of June (N. S.) the King left Hanover and reached Aschaf- fenberg on the 19th. He was closely followed by the Duke of Cumberland and the English Prime Minister, de facto, Lord Carteret. Here the army remained encamped, and the King, who was in no way deficient in personal cour- age, determined to lead the battle. Meantime he inspected the troops, and on the 22nd of June, the anniversary of his succession, he received a royal and loyal salute from the army. The French General, De Noailles, made such good use of his opportunities that the British were completely cut off from their supplies. The enemy had occupied a very strong position, and commanded the fords while in possession of the forts. Thus it happened that things looked very serious when the King made his inspection. The English position was between the river and a wood, and completely cut off from their base of action. There was very little to eat, and forage for the horses was getting very low, so under the circumstances it appeared to the French commander that he had only to wait, — well supplied as he was, — and the British, with their allies, would fall into his hands. The English army was encamped along the river, and the French position was almost exactly opposite, their right supported by Great Ostein, and the left by Stockstadt, and as the French could not cross and attack, they determined to starve them out. The allies could not remain in such a perilous position, and so they made ready to depart. Voltaire says that there was no alternative, as the horses must have been killed had the army remained two days longer. The French commander perceived the intention, and was ready to defeat it. He got his men ready in the eai-ly morning. He pursued the allies, and changing front soon reached a position behind them, and sent a strong force across the river with orders to occupy the village of Dettingen, through which the retreating army had to pass on their way to Hanau. This march was begun at daybreak, and in many instances the officers of the opposed armies conversed across the stream ; for, says a combatant, " Many of us went down to the brink of the river and reviewed their troops as they passed ; many of their officers conversed with ours." The French crossed the river, and a French account says that instead of occupying the village of Dettingen as directed, when the allies began to form, the troops posted themselves in the narrow pass, believing that they had to do with only a " strong rear-guard beyond it." The French artillery began to play upon the allies as soon as they could, and sent their cavalry across. King George had taken the post of danger in the rear, believing that the French would attack there ; but when the leading files found themselves actually en- gaged, the King changed his position, and came to the van of the army. When this movement of the French was perceived, and it was found impossible to advance just then, the King called a halt, and drew up his troops in battle array. A cannonade had been carried on by both, but now the enemy's foot had appeared in front between Dettingen and Klein Welsheim towards the hills, so that they were upon the right flank of the British, and about a mile away. When the allies perceived that the French were actually in force, and crossing the river at Sehginstadt, they drew up facing the wood. The position the allies had quitted at Aschaf- fenberg had meanwhile been seized by the French, the river was to the left of them, and Grammont occupied the village close by ; the hills were to the right, and the enemy again in front. So the position of the little army was by no means a pleasant one. It did not appear to Noailles that his enemy could possibly escape from the trap. The King made his dispositions immedi- ately. He commanded the infantry to shelter in the wood from the cannonade, and covered them, the left was advanced to the river. These dispositions naturally took up a great deal of time, and from eight o'clock in the morning until midday the French guns kept pounding away at the allies within a few hundred yards, just across the river. By noon, however, all the arrangements were made, and then the French advanced, the English also moving forward to engage them. Generals Clayton and Sommerfelt, with the Duke of Cumberland, marched at the head of the first line of foot. The King himself was at the head of the second line, and the battle was suspended to give him time to come up, as he was very desirous to join in it. The English lines halted after a while to take breath, and then resumed their rapid advance. The King's horse took fright as soon as the firing began in earnest, and run- ning away almost carried him into the enemy's 375 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. lines. But the King managed to pull up, and the Due d'Aremburg remonstrated with His Majesty for running such a risk, and en- countering so great danger, for a battery of cannon was then playing upon him, but the shot flew overhead. " Don't tell me of danger," replied George ; " I'll be even with them." However he dismounted from his still uneasy horse, and took up his post on foot at the head of his men ; and when the French advanced on the right flank through the wood the King himself ordered up the Hanover- ian troops, drew them up in line of battle, and then ordered six cannon which were close by to give the French a few rounds. He stood by the guns while his orders were obeyed, and noticed how the shot tore through the advancing columns, doing great execution. He then resumed his place at the head of the infantry, and told them on no account to fire till the enemy came close. The French were then within a short dis- tance, and at one hundred yards opened fire vigorously, the "bullets flying as thick as hail" says an officer. Then the King flourished his sword, and said " Now, BOYS ; NOW FOR THE HONOUR OF ENGLAND, FIRE ; AND BEHAVE BRAVE, AND THE FRENCH WILL SOON RUN." These stirring commands were well obeyed, and the allies advanced firing as they charged upon the enemy. The French could not stand the onset, and it would probably have succeeded had not the Due de Grammont left the shelter of the village, and poured down upon the left flank. But even here fortune favoured the British, be- cause the French cannon which had kept up such a disastrous fire for so long, was stopped when the French rode into the open range. Incidents of the Fight. The Black Musketeers then charged, but were repulsed by the English, and a standard was taken. Then the British and Austrian cavalry, passing through the infantry, fell upon the household troops of France, and at first some allied regiments were repulsed. But they speedily recovered themselves, and then a French Grenadier regiment gave way, while the King, behaving most gallantly, rallied the whole Hne of the allies, the Duke of Cumberland admirably seconding him with other commanders, and the French were pushed back. De Noailles, who was watching the fight from the opposite side of the river, was horror-struck when he perceived his men driven back. Again and again the struggle was renewed, but the sohd infantry of the allies defeated all attempts to break its ranks, and advanced steadily, rolling back the enemy as they advanced. Hanoverians and British were equally brave. It is stated that but for the King and the Duke of Cumberland the result might have been different. They led the stout infantry to victory, and had narrow escapes. The Duke was twice wounded, and once very nearly killed by some Austrians who mistook hini for a French officer. There are a great many letters before us written by some of the officers present, some of which testify to the personal bravery of the King, and describe many interesting incidents. There were reports that the " Blues " turned tail, and an officer in the Fusihers describes their retiring through the 'regiment. But again an officer of the Blues denies this, but confesses that their impetu- ous charge carried them too far, and they had to retreat in disorder when the French came in upon the infantry, who "tore them to pieces " with their close fire. " What pre- served us," says an officer, "was our keeping close order, and advancing near the enemy ere we fired." A dreadful slaughter of the French ensued. The following account is from a Dutch source : — "The battle began about ten, between 28,000 French and about 18,000 British and Austrian troops. It lasted with great ob- stinacy for better than four hours, during which time the French were continually reinforced. They had once disordered the English troops ; and the Household (troops) of France, which composed the front of the army, endeavouring to make the best of this advantage made a motion to the right, which exposed them to a covert battery of Hano- verian artillery, which did prodigious execu- tion. In the meantime the Due d'Aremberg caused the Austrians to advance, and close the opening which had been made. This entirely changed the scene, and the French finding it quite impossible to gain their point, began to retire towards the bridges." In fact, the retreat became a rout; the French were cut down as they retired, and hundreds were drowned in the Main. The King remained upon the battle-field until ten o'clock at night, and it was estimated that not less than 6,000 of the French were left upon the field. The alhes lost about half as many, and the superior commanders are by some writers much praised; but the King and his son undoubtedly bore off the palm. Torrents of rain fell that night, and the allies had no food nor tents after all their exertions. The army did not pursue the French, but quitted the field, leaving the wounded to the mercy of the enemy — a confi- dence which was not misplaced, as De Noailles treated them with the greatest kindness and humanity. But this in no way exonerated the English commanders, and they were greatly blamed for their neglect. Lord Stair was decidedly of opinion that the enemy ought to have been pursued, and 376 THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. more than once asserted the necessity for so doing. But the King over-ruled the general, for the army was in great want of provisions, and a portion of the French troops were quite fresh. It is related by Voltaire, that he afterwards met Lord Stair in Holland, and asked the Scotchman what his opinion was concerning the battle of Dettingen. " I think," replied the general, " that the French made one great mistake, and the English made two. Your error was in n®t standing still ; our first fault was getting ourselves into such a dangerous position ; our second in not pursuing your army after the victory." Results of the Battle.- Saxe. -Marshal The immediate results of the battle of Dettingen were beneficial to Maria Theresa, for she had also been victorious, and the French were driven into their own country. Under these circumstances the Elector of Bavaria had no choice but to submit, and he accordingly humbled himself and signed a treaty of neutrality ; but his territory had meantime been overrun by the Queen, and she occupied it until such time as seemed to her convenient to retire. This she did until peace was signed, and King George was appointed the mediator at Hanau. Unfor- tunately these trumpeted arrangements came to nothing after all ; firstly, because Maria Theresa Victrix was not altogether moderate in her demands; and though, perhaps, she might have been induced to forego some- what of her request, the Elector of Bavaria could not get on at all unless he was paid English money ; and under these circum- stances Carteret, who was acting as Prime Minister, advised His Majesty not to consent to the arrangement, which fell through. After a time spent in these fruitless nego- tiations, a grand invasion of France was talked about ; but autumn drew in, and the usual rains commenced, so it was determined that no further hostilities need be under- taken that year, and that the troops must go into their winter quarters. When this was decided great dissatisfaction was evinced by Lords Stair and Marlborough, who were present in a subordinate capacity, and many other British officers. The result was that a great many resigned their commis- sions, while the King only remained long enough to sign a treaty at Worms with Austria and Sardinia, by which the latter, for a territorial consideration, agreed to provide 45,000 men for the assistance of the Queen of Hungary, and consented to receive an annual subsidy from England. It is no part of our object to give an account of the Pretender and his son, but in 1744 the French openly espoused his cause, and an army was embarked for England under the command of Marshal Saxe. This celebrated officer deserves a few lines, for he is intimately connected with the events we have to chronicle. The French, in the matter of the young Pretender, were very chary of committing themselves unless they could positively see their way to success. But when England supported Austria, France made up her mind to maintain the Scotch, — although, be it remembered, that all this time no declaration of war had been published by either France or England. It was arranged that 15,000 men should be sent, 3,000 to Scotland, and the remainder should invade London under the command of Marshal Saxe. This successful general was a natural son of Frederick, King of Poland. His mother was the Countess Maria of Konigsmark, and sister of the Count who had caused Thynne to be assassinated in London. He was born in 1696, and when quite a youth joined the allied armies under Marlborough and Eugene, and studied war in a very practical manner. He subsequently served in Sweden, and was present at the capture of Srraslund. After the treaty of Utrecht he went to France, and declining the command of the Saxon army he threw in with the French then on the Rhine, and distinguished himself at Dettin- gen and Philipsburg. In 1744 he was created a Marshal of France, and prepared for the invasion of England at Dunkirk. Towards the end of February all was in readiness, and the French fleet came up to the Isle of Wight, and cast anchor off Dungeness to wait the arrival of the troops. Sir John Norris, with the channel fleet, coming up, but not attacking, the French Admiral slipped away during the night before a strong breeze, which increased con- siderably, and fell upon }*Iarshal Saxe as he attempted to weather it near Dunkirk. The flotilla was destroyed, and many ships were entirely lost with all on board. So the demonstration in favour of the young Pre- tender came to nothing then, except so far as it was the cause of war being formally declared by France and England, for this perhaps unnecessary formality had been dispensed with during the fighting on the Main and the descent on the sea coast. The Campaign of 1744. We must give a sketch of the incidents of the war carried on in 1744, so as to lead us up to the great encounter in Flanders, which resulted so unfortunately for the allies. It was already May when Louis proceeded to take the field. He and George II. had been indulging in a little mutual recrimination, in which the French monarch accused the King of England of having been the cause of all the wars by his support of Maria Theresa. 377 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. while George retorted by casting the Pragma- tic Sanction in the teeth of his royal brother, and accused him of aiding and abetting Spain and the Pretender in their attacks upon England. Thus having made up their minds to declare open hostihties, there was no want of reasons. Marshal Saxe was appointed to the com- mand of the French army in Flanders, and it amounted to 80,000 men. To this well- equipped and well-commanded force the allies could only answer with about 50,000 of all nations interested — viz., English, Flemish, Austrians, and Dutch ; and so Louis XV. had every opportunity to indulge in war made easy ; for many towns, which, remarks a historian, seem specially ordained to be taken and retaken in war, were captured without much trouble or loss. So it was not until the Austrians, in July, dashed into Alsace and drove the French army back that any real fighting was put before the King as a bonne boiiche. Louis determined to witness the campaign, and hurried into Alsace, but sickness over- took him, partly in consequence of fatigue, partly because he had eaten too much. The King made preparations for the end of his life's journey, turned away the lady who just then happened to be in favour, and gave himself up to the consolations of religion and the exclusive society of his priests to see how they could prepare him for his inter- view with the grim agent who was coming to demand an account of the monarch's stewardship. And thus, casting up his ac- counts, the King " lay between life and death for many weeks." The Austrians were, however, more alarmed at the storm which suddenly burst upon them from a clear sky, so to speak. Frederick the Great, who had made peaceful arrangements, and who ought to have adhered to his treaties, suddenly ignored all his engagements, and with an army of 60,000 men marched into Bohemia and Moravia. Prague capitulated, and assisted by the French and the lately very impecunious Elector of Bavaria, the Austrians were worsted. These successes brought Charles of Lorraine, who had been successful against the French, into Bohemia, and aided by the patriotic Hungarians, Frederick of Prussia soon found he had ventured into a hornets' nest. In vain he appealed to his allies. The Austrians and Hungarians showed him no quarter, and his friends began to make excuse. The result may be imagined. After some fighting and several consider- ably harassing skirmishes and night attacks, Frederick found himself in no pleasant position, and retreated, blundering into wonderful errors in every direction. It is extraordinary how he managed to misdirect his troops, and, as he himself confesses, he committed more mistakes in this most disas- trous campaign than ever he had before. His general, Einsiedel, was compelled to evacuate Prague and abandon his guns, returning into Silesia with a loss of 5,000 men. Frederick hastened to his capital to recruit his army, which were then safe in winter quarters. Things did not look well for Frederick of Prussia just then, nor for his allies. The French sent him a mission, consisting of the Marquis of Belleisle, a bitter partisan against England, and his brother. It so fell out that these gentlemen endeavoured to make their way through Hanover, and were arrested and sent prisoners to England, where they arrived on the 13th of February, 1745, and landed at Harwich. Here for some days they were detained, and then were carried to Windsor, via Greenwich. Their arrest gave rise to much comment, and was considered a violation of the rights of Germany. They refused to give their parole as required, but after being detained for some months they were released.* On the death of the Duchess of Marl- borough Lord Carteret became Earl Gran- ville, and continued high in favour of the King because he supported the Hanove- rian measures ; and to such a pitch did Granville's pride carry him, and so openly expressed he his disdain, that the Pelham faction threatened to resign. Granville had told them that matters could not remain as they were. " I will not," he said, "submit to be overruled and outvoted upon every point by four to one. If you will take the Government upon you, you may ; but if you cannot, or will not, there must be some direction, and I will not do it."t These disputes brought things to a climax, and it became a question of choice between Granville and his opponents. Pelham had the Commons at his back, and the King was dreadfully perplexed. His adviser (the Earl of Oxford), however, suggested the King's course; he gave in, and Granville resigned in favour of the Earl of Harrington. But it is worth noting that scarcely had Granville been ousted from office when his opponents began to pursue very much the same course, and Hanover was still protected. The Flanders Campaign. When King George replied to the address of his faithful Commons in February 1745; he made the following remarks : " I have, in coniunction with the Queen of Hungary and * For details and general treatment of the case see Pamphlets and Gentleman s Magazine, etc., for 1745. t Coxe's Walpole. 378 THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. the States General, concluded a treaty with the King of Poland, which I will order to be laid before you." This was the Quadruple Alliance, and now the European States were banded together against each other in the manner set forth below. France comes first as the power wishing to demolish the House of Austria, and the conquest of Flanders for the Emperor nomi- nally, but really for her own ends, in con- sideration for the expenditure of blood and treasure she had undergone. Spain wanted to carry matters with a high hand, and to obtain power in Italy. The Emperor Charles (whose days were numbered) wished to fix himself more firmly upon his tottering throne, and to grasp his dominions with an ever-extending arm. The King of Prussia wanted more territory, and other smaller States were awaiting their turn, or anxious to strike a blow for a friend. On the other hand, we find an array of power to meet this combination. In the first place we have, — Great Britain, anxious to keep France within bounds at sea, and, if possible, on land ; and with England Hanover, of course, was united. Hungary, led by its valiant Queen, who had everything at stake in the contest, was cling- ing to England and her own Hungarian subjects, as much from gratitude as from a sense of assistance. The Dutch, who would fight for their hearths and homes, and, if stirred up, would feel inclined to take the field with England. The Elector of Saxony, as King of Poland, who was bent upon consolidation and his allies. Even Sardinia and Russia were ready to play a part with Britain, the former be- cause of the Treaty of Worms, the latter by virtue of her promises. Thus there were all the elements of " a very pretty quarrel " as it stood. When the Emperor died in January 1745, the state of affairs was in no way improved. He died at Munich, and his successor resigned all claims to the Austrian succession, and promised to assist the Duke of Lorraine. There was now really no excuse for proceed- ing with war. But theAustrians and French still continued to skirmish, and in these encounters both sides appeared to claim the advantage. On the Rhine the French were in retreat before the Duke of Aremberg, and the States General preparing for the inevit- able campaign, appointed Prince Waldeck to the command of their army in Flanders. About the beginning of March the Aus- trians advanced across the Inn at Passau and other places. They attacked the enemy, the Bavarians, and gained some successes. The French on the lower Rhine continued their retreat, but being reinforced recrossed the Main, at which the allies retreated, and the French also passed the Rhine in the beginning of March, and took " Mentz." The Hungarians had held their own against the Prussians, and the Austrians were gene- rally successful. Meanwhile the French were making rapid preparations, and on the ist April Marshal Saxe was appointed to the command of the army in Flanders. On the 5th, the Duke of Cumberland set out for the same destination, and arrived at Helvetsluys next day. The French army under Marshal Saxe lost no time in advancing, who made up his mind to invest Tournai. The Duke of Cumberland proceeded to the Hague, and he arrived at Brussels on the loth. After some time spent in drilling, the army advanced on the 19th to Halle and Tubise, and subsequently proceeded to Leuse. The English army consisted of about 28,000 men, and with the Dutch troops the whole force at the disposition of the Duke did not exceed 50,000. The French had 76,000 men under Marshal Saxe, and he was thus enabled to invest Tournai, and yet spare an army to meet the English and their allies. Tournai is supposed to be a very ancient town, and it is certain that Caesar occupied it. Henry VIII. took it from the French, and erected the citadel. It was afterwards restored to them, but taken and held by the Spaniards till 1667, when Louis XIV. got possession of it. He made improvements in the fortifications. In June 1709, Marlborough invested the town, and it surrendered, while the enormous French army within fighting distance was afraid to come to its relief. Lille and Tournai were called by Louis XIV. the eyes of France, of so great importance were they considered. We now come to the memorable battle before Tournai, in which Marshal Saxe defeated the aUies. The Battle of Fontenoy. The French, bent on invading Tournai,. opened their trenches on the 30th of April, 1745, 3.nd worked with skill and rapidity. There were only 9,000 Dutch troops in the town, and the French assured them- selves of victory, particularly as the allied commanders were rather divided in their councils, and perfect accord did not reign concerning the chief command, which the Duke of Cumberland nominally possessed, but he was under the control of the Austrian Marshal Konigsegg, and obliged to defer to the suggestions of the Prince of Waldeck. It need scarcely be said that upon the propriety of raising the siege of Tournai there was no question. The allied generals were all of that opinion, and it was determined to attempt the rehef of the town notwithstanding the superior numbers and advantageous posi- 379 38? THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. tion of the French army. The alhes there- fore advanced, and encamped at Bougnies, within a measurable distance of the French outposts. When Marshal Saxe had heard of the arrival of the allies at Linze he had no doubt as to their intentions, and so the troops which had passed the Scheldt were ordered to recross. The bad state of the weather prevented the allies from advancing on the 9th May ; but on the loth they made a movement by the left, and the Marshal took up his position with his right near Antrain, and the left on the road to Mons, near Notre Dame aux Bois.* The English generals proceeded to inspect the enemy's posiiion, and Avere enabled to ascertain the disposition of the army which was separated from their own by underwood and hedges. The village of Fontenoy was in their front, the wood of Barre was on the left. Every precaution was taken by the French; and the army, of which some 15,000 had been left to cover Tournai, was enthusiastic at the arrival of the King and the Dauphin, who had come from Paris to be witnesses of the battle, and as they hoped, — and as the event proved, — of the defeat of the allies. On the loth an attack was made by the English. " Six battalions and twelve squadrons, with 500 pioneers and guns, were commanded from each wing for this service." The allies marched confi- dently forward, and without much difficulty drove in the French outposts to the very top of the hilly ground in front of their camp, where they halted, so as to cover the arrange- ments Saxe was making for the morrow. The Duke of Cumberland and the other commanders then proceeded to an inspection of the ground, for the battle had still to be fought. The troops bivouacked on the ground they had won, and orders were issued for the final engagement to take place at daybreak on the nth. The French troops remained in their tents, the King of France returned to Calonne, and Marshal Saxe passed the night in his carriage with his army around him. His Royal Highness, says the official account of the action, commanded that the army should march at two in the morning ; and having ascertained that there was an unoccupied fort near the village of Vezon, he dispatched General Ingoldsby to attack that village, while Prince Waldeck advanced upon the village of Fontenoy. General Campbell was commanded to cover the right wing, but owing to his wound this order was not carried out, and General Ligonier attempted it under an artillery fire. All was now apparently ready for the * Lettres et Meraoiies des Marechal de Saxe. advance, and it was begun. The Duke, with the English and Hanoverians, went boldly forward to Fontenoy; but General Ingoldsby, who had been commanded to carry the redoubt in the wood, did not even make the attempt, and despite repeated orders despatched by his superiors, he continued to- hang back, and lacked the courage apparently to make a dash at the fort ; there can be- little doubt he would have succeeded had he made a bold push for it. Meanwhile upon the French side the King was in the field, and a brisk cannonade was kept up and as briskly answered. One long line of infantry extended from Fontenoy to Rancecroix supported by guns. It was by the very first shot of the cannonade that the Due de Grammont had his thighs shot away, and he died almost immediately. The English lines were now in position, the cavalry regiments in squadron behind them, and seeing that all was ready the Duke of Cumberland gave the order to ad- vance, while Prince Waldeck made his attack upon the village of Fontenoy. Inglodsby, as already mentioned, came upon the wood which was tenanted by a body of skirmishers^ and feeling nervous at the idea sent a mes- sage to the Duke for orders, notwithstanding his instructions to attack. This delay was unpardonable, and caused disaster. The Dutch at first advanced bravely and attacked Fontenoy, assailed, as they pro- ceeded, by a terrible cannonade, which smote them fearfully, and compelled them to retire. The English and Hanoverians still advanced however within thirty paces of the enemy, and obliged the French to retreat within their lines. But unfortunately the left wing did not succeed so well, and as Ingoldsby had disobeyed orders and turned tail, the troops had no support, and being exposed to a cross fire as well as the file firing in front they were obliged to retire in their turn. There is no doubt that the Duke ought to have retreated, '■' for his sole way to the enemy led between Fontenoy and the batteries of the wood of Barre, to the flank of which he was exposed." He proceeded however, as already related, and his troops uniting " pressed boldly on into a phalanx, which nobody seetned able to stop. Meeting the French guards, the well-known compliment passed, each bidding the other fire first. But the rolling fire of the English, imitated from the Prussians, prostrated i-ank after rank, and the French guards were routed. No regiment seemed able to stand before the advancing column, and preparations were made for retreat, and for the safety of the King, — the latter, however, would not budge."* Had this gallant attack been supported we * Crowe's History of France. 381 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. should not have had to deplore the loss of the battle. The English were mowed down by the batteries, and compelled to fall back. They were rallied, however, and again formed. Again they advanced ; but the Dutch being quite paralysed and no assistance forth- coming, the attack failed, owing to the gallantry of the French charge, and particu- larly to an Irish regiment, which was fight- ing in the enemy's ranks. But although beaten, the English column retired in good order, and returned to its former position, sadly diminished in numbers. The French cavalry endeavoured to break the retreating troops, but without success. The Dutch had run away, and did not appear again in the field. It is related that one of their commanders rode away to Ath, and wrote a letter to the States General informing them that the allies had been cut to pieces, and that he, only by his valour, had succeeded in bringing off his men in safety. When the Duke perceived that his orders were not carried out, and that his allies were mere spectators of the engage- ment, he decided to retreat, and the army, protected by its cavalry, withdrew in good order. The French did not attempt a pur- suit, and there is no doubt they suffered severely. Foreign Opinion of Fontenoy. The testimony of the French to the gal- lantry of the British advance is conclusive. Voltaire speaks highly of the conduct of the English in his impartial account of the battle, and extracts from correspondence of French officers engaged, leave no room for doubt. " The enemy attacked in two columns," says a French writer, an eye- witness. " The English, in particular, did wonders, and fought like furies. Towards eleven o'clock, some places ia our line were broken, and the allies had passed the village of Fontenoy, between two redoubts of which, however, they did not make themselves master." ..." The sutlers and valets of the army," he continues, " took to their heels, and carried the alarm to the bridge on the upper Schelt. But all things were put in order again ; the allies were quickly repulsed, and abandoned to us the field of battle in disorder at one in the afternoon. "We did not think it proper to pursue them," they said, " for fear they should form again behind the wood." This little sentence proves the stubborn fighting qualities of the British brigade, which so gloriously dis- tinguished itself at Fontenoy. The French estimate of the loss of the allies is 3,000 killed on the spot and 4,000 wounded. Large though these figures are, they are nothing in comparison with the holocausts of brave men who fell in the terrible War of Secession in the United States. On the French side they confess to have lost 1,200 men killed on the spot, and 2,000 wounded. " I never knew," writes another French officer, " in thirty years' service, either a brisker or a more obstinate engagement — no, not in Italy, where we had to do with Count Merci, who, you know, was reputed the most desperate officer of his time, and the general who spared men least. Not to hide the truth our men were thrice obliged to give way, and nothing but the extreme calmness and good conduct of Marshal Saxe could have brought them to the charge the last time, which was about two o'clock, and then the allies in their turn gave way. Our victory may be said to be complete, but it cannot be denied that as the allies behaved extremely well in the action, more especially the English, so they made a soldierly retreat, which. was much favoured by an adjacent wood." — " In short, we gained the victory, but may I never see such another," sums up a third writer. We could multiply instances and incidents, but it would not add anything to the lament- able fact that the allies were beaten ; though, but for the disaffections of the Dutch, and the inactivity of Ingoldsby, who subsequently printed an elaborate excuse for his conduct, they would have soon tui-ned it into a victory. Horace Walpole was right in his estimate that the French were only not beat, and the Hon. Philip Yorke in his letter to Walpole, ascribes the victory not to the bravery of the French troops, but to their advantageous situation, and " the number of their batteries ' from which they had a hundred pieces of cannon playing upon us without intermis- sion." The estimate of the French losses in the Gazette is put down at from 5,000 to 10,000 killed and wounded. After the Battle. An inquiry was set on foot in England when the unwelcome news arrived, and the disappointment at the result was very general in the country ; and it was " of the highest importance to the country" that an investi- gation should be made into the causes which led to the disaster. The inquiry began by ascribing the failure of our arms to the cour- age and the conduct of our enemies. " I know," continues the author of one pamphlet, " there are some who think it so absolutely an impossibility for a Fi'ench army to beat an English one, that, if they cannot find a miracle to account for it, they are ready to lay a load of infamy upon somebody or other." The paper from which we have quoted the above lines then proceeds to investigate the dispositions and arrangements of the French, dwelling upon the admirable way in which the Marshal had placed his men and posted 38: THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY. his guns, and declaring it was not so much he business of the French to gain a com- plete victory as to prevent us from approach- ing Tournai. The "inquiry" is, in fact, an elaborate eulogium upon the army of the great Marshal Saxe. But historians tell us how grandly the British and Hanoverians plunged into the lire from the well-served range of guns opposed to them. Dragging cannon with them over ground in which cavalry was useless, the English troops "marched steadily upon a position which the best marshals of France ■deemed impregnable," defended as it was by the corps d'elite of the French army. We have already followed the Duke of Cumber- land in his bold advance which bore down all before it. Not even the report of the failure of the attack they had counted on damped their ardour ; even though they felt them- selves abandoned by their supports, they pressed on, and the finest troops of France failed to check them. Marshal Konigsegg had actually congratu- lated the Duke upon his victory, and, as related. Marshal Saxe counselled retreat, which was partly cut off. But the French King declined to move, and cheered his troops. " If," says Voltaire in his " Siecle de Louis XV.," " if the Dutch had now put themselves in movement, there would have been no resource — nay, no retreat for the French army ; nor, in all probability, for the King and his. son." Fontenoy has been ■described as a defeat of the British arms ; it was practically a victory till the indefensible conduct of the Dutch troops necessitated a retreat of the small English column opposed to 60,000 men of France. The Duke of Cumberland was the last to leave the field, as the column broken, indeed, but terrible in its fall, carried with it many a life, while it retreated slowly with face to the foe. The cavalry distinguished itself greatly, and thus the whole army, accompanied by the dastardly Dutch, and the incompetent Ingoldsby, fell back upon Ath. The victory was due to the King for his bravery, and to the marshal for his keen sight and excellent strategy, ailing though he was, and suffering. It was with great difficulty that the British troops were prevented from "faUing foul" of the Dutch, and had no enemy been near there is reason to suppose that our inactive allies would have suffered very considerably. But Dutch cowardice and desertion did not end with the battle. Hertsall, a Dutch engineer, betrayed Tournai to the French, and it surrendered in a fortnight. Ghent, Bruges, Oudenarde, and other places followed ; and at Ostend a Dutch ofScer was again sus- pected of turning traitor. So altogether the English had no need to be proud of these allies, who in the first place did not bring into the field half the men they had agreed to produce when the time for action arrived. Conclusion. There are some English authorities, eye- witnesses, whose opinions lead us to a con- clusion respecting the battle ; we append some of them. " I won't describe the cause of our failure,'' says Lieutenant Forbes, in " The CoUoden Papers," " although I know it ; but sure never troops behaved with more intrepi- dity than the English, nor never have troops suffered so much. In short, there was but one way of marching into the ground where we were to form our line, which was through the village of Vezon. The opening would not allow above fourteen or twenty abreast, and from thence to the French batteries a rising ground like a glacis, and they at half- cannon shot distance. General Campbell, with twelve squadrons, was ordered through the defile first, as a corps to cover the mouth of the opening whilst the infantry marched in, which, as they marched from the right, formed as soon as they went in ; so one regiment covered another till they formed all the way to the left. You may believe this took up a great deal of time, in which the French batteries played incessantly on the twelve squadrons and on the troops as they formed ; but as it is impossible to describe a thing unless you had the plan before you, I shall only say we formed with all the regularity in the world, and we marched up towards the enemy, who were all along upon the height with their different batteries, the whole length of which ran a hollow way that they had made a very good entrenchment. Off we beat them out of this hollow way, and gained the height, whence we had the first view of their bodies at about two hundred paces distance, an immense number of them and numberless cannon still playing upon us. " Here we dressed our lines, and began to march towards them, when pop they went into another entrenchment, extremely well provided and flanked with batteries of cannon. Nevertheless, on we went, drove them from that, which was the first small shot we had an opportunity to make use of from the beginning, which was now near six hours." Respecting the conduct of the Dutch alHes, there cannot unfortunately be two opinions. Foreign critics, as well as English eye-wit- nesses, animadvert in strong terms upon their behaviour, and a letter from an officer who was with the brigade of Highlanders when they were sent to the support of their allies, Colonel Munro, says himself: " We were to support the Dutch, who in their usual way were very dilatory." The Highlanders had actually got within musket shot of the batteries of Fontenoy, he adds, "when we EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. received their full fires from batteries and small arms, which killed us forty men and one ensign. Our regiment being in some disorder, I wanted to draw them up in rear of the Dutch, which their general would scarce allow of; but at last I did it, and soon marched again to the front. In half an hour after the Dutch gave way." After this unfortunate retirement, it ap- peared to the officer commanding the division quite useless to attempt to stem the opposing torrent of 5,000 troops supported by their guns. This brigade was then withdrawn to assist the Hanoverians. Phihp Yorke, who wrote an account of the battle to the elder Walpole, declared angrily that " it was mon- strous for the Dutch not to have brought even half the quota which they had agreed into the field. When the battle was fought," he continues, "the whole Confederate army, according to the best accounts I have seen, consisted of 46 battalions and 73 squadrons, making in all 33,000 effective men." The French army, it appears from the same authorities, consisted of 102 bat- talions and 149 squadrons, making 60,000 i-nen — " a terrible disproportion, seeing how advantageously they were posted and lined with so many batteries." There were many different accounts of the action promulgated ; but it would appear that for some reason or other many were suppressed in Flanders — perhaps because the allies did not like the aspersions cast upon them. Be this as it may, we think the allies were far outnumbered, and in a most exposed situation, while the subsequent sur- render of the towns (as already mentioned) certainly gave some colour to the expressions used by the English, that the Dutch had behaved very badly. It was said that Prince Waldeck pushed the English in this " despe- rate attempt." But on the other hand it was necessary to raise the siege of Tournai. At any rate, whatever the reason of the defeat, we cannot altogether blame the Dutch for it. General Ingoldsby was in some measure responsible. He had distinct orders to advance, but he lost time in sending for instructions when he had only to go on. The British and Hanoverian troops also were kept too closely together, and on these compact masses the enemy's artillery did great execution ; and when the time came for the British cavalry to charge, they did not do much, owing, it is said, to the nature of the ground. If personal bravery could have won the day, the English troops would have remained the victors. This success so emboldened Frederick the Great, that he declined any' negotiations of peace with Austria, and attacked them furiously at Hohen Friedburg, where he showed the true abilities of a general. The loss of the Austrians in this battle was very great. But we cannot here follow the for- tunes of Maria Theresa, although they had brought her prominently within the scope of the events which led directly to the war in Flanders and the fight at Fontenoy. We need not here pursue the fortunes of Maria Theresa. Our task is finished at Fontenoy — a story of a defeat, it is true ; but a defeat carrying with it all the prestige of victory for the British arms. Maestrilht. 384 Admiral Duncan addressing the Mutineers. THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NORE. A Woman's Love— Digging up the Body of a Mutineer— The Panics of 1797 — The Glory of the English Fleet — First unheeded Murmurs of the Tars— Black Dick, the Sailor's Friend— Outbreak at Spithead — The Yard-ropes— Splendid Temper of the Mutineers — Their Tale of Woe — The Jolly Tar a Century ago — The Sweets of Liberty — The Press-gang — The Admiralty at Portsmouth— Dangerous higgling of the Commissioners — The Bloody Flag hoisted — The Settlement — Fresh Outbreak at St. Helen's— Another Blunder— The first Bloodshed— Triumph of the Seamen and the Sailor's Friend— The Rising at the Nore— Frolics of the Delegates— Proposals of the Mutineers— Escape of the Clyde — Blockade of the Thames— Piracy of the Mutineers— Some more Barbarities— Hanging Pitt — Parker's Washerwoman — Break up of the Mutiny— Terrific Scenes in the Fleet— The Last of " President " Parker. A Woman's Love ; At the Scaffold and THE Grave. N the twenty-ninth day of June, 1797, a middle-aged woman, evidently suffering from some great sorrow, and clad in a black silk gown, a scarf mode- cloak, a purple shawl, a black bonnet, and a deep gauze veil, might have been seen wait- ing with a companion at the palace of St. James, in the great city of London. Every minute has a weight of agony, and the sound of the bells as they strike the slowly passing hours seem to her like a death-knell. She is only a sailor's wife and a poor woman, but, fired with a passionate love, and a determina- 385 tion such as possessed the heart of Jeanie Deans, she has succeeded, like that heroine of romance, in making her way from Scotland to the metropolis of England, in order to see her husband, and save him, if possible, from the sentence of a felon and a dishonourable grave. Three days before he had been condemned to death by court-martial ; and she had a petition drawn up in her name, which the Earl of Morton, her fellow-countryman, had promised to present to Queen Charlotte, praying her gracious Majesty to use her influence on behalf of her husband — on the ground that he was insane, that he had on cc EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. that account, at a former time, been dismissed from his position in the navy, and that his sister was actually in confinement as labour- ing under the same disease. This prayer of the loving wife has been presented by her noble Scottish patron, and as she waits anxiously for an answer from the Queen, she talks to the pitiful bystanders of her sorrows, and assures the attendants in the guard-chamber that she would give a thousand guineas if she could save her husband's life. At last, wearied and hopeless of success, she hears the hour of five struck ; the wife of King George has not deigned to notice her petition, and she drives away with her companion so that she may be able to reach Sheerness and see her husband for the last time, before his execution on the following morning. It was close on midnight when the Roches- ter coach arrived at its destination, carrying among its other passengers the forlorn wife of Richard Parker, the notorious mutineer, whose name had been in the mouth of every man, woman, and child in that district of Kent during the past few weeks. In spite of this odium, however, she immediately suc- ceeded in finding a boatman who was going up to Sheerness in the morning with garden vegetables, and who agreed to take her with him. At the early hour of seven she reached the side of the Sandwich, the vessel on which her husband was to suffer at the yard-arm ; but the stern sentinels, heedless of her anxious request to see him, ordered her off, and even threatened to fire in case of dis- obedience. When this first boatman had taken her back to Sheerness on the pretext that as the yellow flag had not been hoisted no execution would take place that day, she engaged a second. As this boat was rowed up she discerned the fatal flag ; again she begged to see her husband ; but in spite of her intense pleading, she v/as once more ordered off, and taken back on shore. She hired a third boat, and this time, as she approached, she saw the fatal procession of her husband, with his hands bound, from the quarter-deck to the forecastle. " My dear husband ! " she exclaimed with a loud shriek, as she fainted away ; recovering again, she beheld him mount the platform on the cathead and the dark-robed chaplain leave his side ; but from that moment a pall fell upc^n her sight, and she " saw nothing but the sea, which appeared covered with blood." An hour had passed away before she reached the ship in a fourth boat, in time to see her husband's lifeless body lowered from the yard-arm. It was immediately placed in a shell already pre- pared for its reception, and exactly at mid- day it was interred in the Naval Burying Ground at Sheerness, amid the deep silence of a large company of the comrades of the unhappy man. It was in vain that the sailor's widow made an earnest and immediate appeal to one of the vice-admirals for the disposal of her hus- band's body ; and she formed a resolution for securing it, by means that have perhaps no parallel even in the wildest of romances. When darkness had stolen down upon the quiet waters of the Thames, and silence reigned over the harbour of Sheerness, this faithful wife, accompanied by three other women, clambered over the high gateway of the graveyard, and by their aid dug up with her hands the rude coffin in which her hus- band's dishonoured body was enclosed. But how, after this first portion of the strange undertaking had been accomplished, was the dismal freight to be carried off unseen? Whatever means were adopted, — and one story of the time gives an account, which, though perhaps true, reads like a ghastly fable, — certain it is that the shell which encased the remains of Richard Parker was safely lodged in a room hired by his widow in the Hoop and Horseshoe public-house^ Little Tower Hill ; that immense crowds gathered there on the two succeeding days i^ that the weeping woman was led before the magistrates in Lambert Street police-court ; and that the public authorities,' in fear of tumults, had the body buried secretly and finally, shortly after midnight, in the vault of Whitechapel church. This last scene in the tragic episode of the mutinies at Spithead and the Nore may fitly serve as an introduction to a narrative of the strange events of the spring of the year 1797, when the seamen of the British navy rose in rebellion against the cruelties^, tyranny, and neglect to which they were sub- jected, and in the course of their determined! stand imperilled the naval supremacy, and perhaps the independence, of their country The Shadow of the Sword ; Panics OF 1797. Never during her whole history was the greatness of England so completely staked upon the solid fibre of her " wooden walls "■ as in the closing years of the eighteenth century. The glorious spring of the French Revolution was like a mother that devours her own children. Paris, the mother of freedom, had become the fierce metropolis. The "far-famed tree" of liberty, of which the peasant bard of Ayrshire had sung exult- ingly, had yielded such monstrous fruit as Marat, Danton, Robespierre. And now the whole of Europe trembled, bled, and crouched before Napoleon's invincibles. The first months of the year 1797 beheld the sacred Head of the Roman Church "taking the trouble" to bow before his "dear son," ceding to the French Republic the sum of thirty million livres in specie and diamonds. 386 THE MUTINIES AT SPIT HE AD AND THE NO RE. and yielding up for ever Avignon and other fair and fertile provinces ; boastful Venice, whose republic had stood for many cen- turies, furiously butchered Frenchmen in the hospitals, and was crushed out of political existence ; and the Emperor of Germany was driven in the early days of April to sue for peace from the great general who had chased his armies out of Italy, and was striking blow after blow on the triumphant march to Vienna. England stood alone at last as the unbend- ing and unbroken foe of France, her ambition, her allies, and her legions. Never was it so true as then that she was mistress of the seas ; the maritime traffic of the world was in her hands ; she had swept the trading craft of France and Holland from every corner of the main ; and amid the deep convulsions of Europe, the insurance of British vessels sailing to India and "far Cathay" actu- ally sank from fifteen guineas to one half of that amount. At last the point of the lance was held out towards our "impregna- ble " shores. Ireland was filled with discontent and insurrection, panting like a wild bird that is caged in view of the green fields. A French expedition of 25,000 men, under Hoche, had attempted in De- cember 1796 to land on the reckless isle of Erin, but had gone back to Brest to wait for better winds and better luck ; and in the month of Feb- ruary, a band of 1200 men, picked veterans and ragged scoundrels, provided with seventy cart-loads of powder and balls, scrambled on shore among the rocks of Pembrokeshire, began to steal clothes, and marched into the country. Our fleet was to be decimated by the united war-ships of the triumvirate of France, Spain, and Holland, and a great army was to "march to the capital of that mighty nation, seize the immense heaps of gold in the Bank of London, the prodigious wealth contained in their shops, their warehouses, and their magazines, the riches contained in their gilded palaces and their stately mansions," etc., etc. The fear of French invasion created a panic throughout England in the last ten days of February. Millions of solid British gold had been spent in lending sinews to the feeble arm of Austria. Farmers flew to their Admiral Lord Howe, country banks and emptied them of specie. These again hastened to devour the reserve of the Bank of England. The heads of that great national institution v/ere at their wits' end. Payment in specie was suspended. The country, exclaimed Fox, was in the gulf of bankruptcy. The governors of the Bank immediately assured the nation that it was in "the most affluent and flourishing condition." Britain had little need of domestic trou- bles. She required her whole strength. Her reliance and her boast were in her " wooden walls." Not to travel back to the distant times of Alfred, or to those of Richard of the Lion Heart, whose strong-fisted men had boarded the impregnable Dj-omunda, the floating castle of Saladin, or to those of Wil lough by, Drake, Howard, Essex, Raleigh; not to speak of the more recent achievements of the dauntless dare-devil Benbow,of Sir Cloudesley Shovel,and of Rooke, who in the year 1704 hosted the British colours on the Rock of Gibraltar, where ihey are flying to this hour — had we not still with us, in the chief com- mand of our brave and loyal tars, Earl Howe, the hero of the " First of June," when the French were thrashed in the Bay of Biscay ; and had not Jervis and Commodore Nelson, on the 14th day of February in this very year, thrown a bright gleam of sunshine into " the wild and darkening forest that threatened to close around us," by smiting the Spanish fleet off Cape St. Vincent, fifteen sail of the line against twenty-seven? Neither merchant nor statesman permitted himself for one moment to dream that the great wave of the righteous power of manhood which had swept over France would touch the decks of our wooden walls, and that the mariners who guard our native seas would be found swerving in the years of storm and license. Black Dick, the Sailor's Friend; Unheeded Murmurs. Richard, Earl Howe, had grown old and worn in the service of his country. The veteran admiral, now half a decade beyon-d the allotted span of threescore years and ten, suffered from the gout in his feet and ankles, and had gone down to take the waters at 387 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Bath in the autumn of 1796. During the whole winter he was confined to his room, and was not able to throw aside his crutches till the end of March. No name, in his own special line, was more respected by the nation or more trusted by the seamen of the navy. To these last the tall and serious admiral was familiarly known as " Black Dick," from a mezzotint portrait that used to hang in his cabin, the sight of which, when first presented to the noble tar, threw him into a state of ludicrous amazement. They also called him the " sailor's friend ; " and rightly, for beneath that dark, serious, and haughty countenance there lay a heart which was not only firm as an oak, and never knew what fear was, — to use his own words,— but which was at the same time humane and tender as a true tar's. Was there a sailor in the whole fleet who did not know how, after the famous "first of June," a deputation of petty officers and seamen came aft to thank him for leading them to victory, and how he replied with faltering voice and tear-filled -eyes : " It is you, my brave lads, it is you, not I, that have conquered"? There were .stories, too, of his benign condescension, — how he was accustomed to go below when a bloody action was over, sitting by the cradles of.the poor wounded fellows, talking cheerily to them ; and how the sick were nursed with his live stock and wines. In the last days of February and the open- ing days of March, the old admiral was dis- turbed by the receipt of anonymous petitions from four vessels of the Channel Fleet at Spithead. One of these complainants had been his own flag-ship, the Qiieen Charlotte^ which was for ever famous, because of the glorious victory of the ist of June, 1794, when her 900 men and 100 guns had dealt death and havoc among the French. So dear was her cabin to him, that the library at his mansion near St. Alban's was fitted up .as a facsimile of his ocean home. The sea- men in these petitions simply asked him to request the Board of Admiralty to extend to them, whose payment was the petty sum of ^\d. per day, the same munificence that the army had received. The earl saw that three of the petitions were written in the same hand. This seemed to him suspicious. But as these petitions of the brave tars dropped in day after day, doubtless his memory recalled the serious murmurs of bygone years. He would remem- ber that in the House of Lords he had declared that his own flag-ship was very filthy, and that many of the vessels were in a wretched state ; how, among the several mutinies of 1783, the crews at Portsmouth, on a report that the ships just returned were to be refitted and unjustly sent to sea again, had confined their officers and had rushed down with lighted matches ready to fire on the appearance of any attack from without, and that he had hastened on board the Janus, ending the mutiny by a timely and just concession ; how, for this same complaint, three men had been hanged in that year on the yard-arm of the Raisonnable j how eight men had been sentenced to death on the Cidloden at the close of 1794, and that he had cast the blame of this discontent upon the captains, who were accustomed to regale themselves on shore, while the toiling tars were kept on board like prisoners. But the old ways were too inveterately ingrained in Howe. There was no hurry. He intended to take the petitions in his pocket to Earl Spencer, the First Lord of the Admi- ralty, when he went up to town from the waters at Bath ; and in the meantime he wrote to two of the chief officers of the Channel Fleet, whose inquiries ended in a report that there was no perceptible dis- affection, and that the smoke was simply manufactured by some evilly-disposed person, in order to throw scandal on the government of William Pitt. Whatever discontent there might be would instantly blow off when the ships stood out to sea, and the patriotic tars were brought face to face with the mortal foes of England. He and his correspondents were mistaken. They forgot the homely proverb that "a stitch in time saves nine." Unseen, the neglected embers were nursed into a flame, which broke forth weeks after into a series of mutinies that threatened the ruin of the country. Outbreak of the Spithead Mutiny. Thus neglected by their friend, the crews carried on a secret correspondence, and formed a sullen resolution that not an anchor should be lifted until their complaints were attended to and their grievances redressed. The officers remained in strange ignorance of the " conspiracy," and the Admiralty had no knowledge of its existence until the 12th of April, when orders were at once tele- graphed to Admiral Bridport, the commander of the fleet, to put out to sea. On Saturday the 15th he gave the signal to weigh anchor and proceed to St. Helen's. Three cheers instantly rose from the crew of the Queen Charlotte; and instead of mustering obediently round the handspikes of the capstan, the sailors ran up the shrouds. As if by magical contagion, every other crew in the roadstead echoed the cheers of the flag-ship, and simi- larly manned the fore-shrouds. Not a single anchor in the fleet was lifted. The officers spent their threats and eloquence in vain. The marines were disarmed and the maga- zines seized. Within a few minutes the authority of the officers was at an end, and the common seamen were masters of the fleet. 388 THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NORE. It remained to be seen wliether the seamen were able to hold down the combatant they had surprised and stunned ; in other words, whether they possessed sufficient determina- tion, cohesion, and administrative capacity. Two " delegates " — that " dangerous " word which had been employed in 1794 by the rebels of the Cullodeii — were appointed by each of the sixteen ships. On the following day, which was Easter Sunday, these thirty- two deputies assembled to deliberate in the favourite cabin of Lord Howe ; and on Easter Monday they went through the ceremony of swearing every sailor upon the Bible, the ropes which were run out at the yard-arm of each ship hinting grimly to any unwilling tar the terrible penalty of disobedience. A list of rules prepared by the committee enjoined, under severe penalty, the greatest attention to the orders of the officers ; that every ship should give three cheers both morning and evening ; that no private communication should be held with the shore ; that no ship should lift its anchor until the demands of the fleet were satisfied ; that no woman should be permitted on shore, but as many might come in as pleased ; and that any person found drunk or attempting to bring liquor into the ship should be rigorously punished. These laws were enforced with unrelenting severity ; for instance, a sailor who had dared to smuggle a pint of spirits on board was flogged unmercifully with a thief-cat ; and on one occasion the Royal William, having declined to join in the general cheering of the fleet, was peremptorily warned that she would be fired into if she repeated this act of disobedience. Even the sick seamen who lay in Haslar Hospital (opposite Portsmouth) were infected with the spirit of enthusiasm, tacked their hand- kerchiefs into a flag, and added their daily cheers to those on board the fleet. The officers whose cruelty had rendered them obnoxious, in spite of all their fears, received no greater injury than that of being sent ashore by the mutineers ; and the terrific yard-ropes were called on to perform no sterner duties than that of ducking any sailors who were found guilty of petty mis- demeanourSj^a more amusing and less brutal punishment than the lash, from which many of the honest tars had suffered for similar offences. Altogether the conduct of these half-enslaved seamen deserves the eulogy of Earl Stanhope, that " perhaps no men raised to power by a successful mutiny ever showed so much temper and moderation." Petitions of the Seamen ; A Tale of Long Suffering, State Neglect, and Robbery. On the 1 8th of April, two petitions, dis- tinguished by a most respectful and loyal tone, were prepared and signed by the thirty- two delegates of the mutinous fleet, in order to make plain to the authorities and the nation the wrongs ©f sailors, and the only terms under which they could be expected to remain in the service of their country. One of these, addressed to the House of Commons, set forth their disappointment and surprise at the neglect of Howe, in whom they had expected to find an advocate, as under his command they had often made the British flag ride triumphant over that of their enemies ; asked for an increase of the Greenwich pensions from seven to thirteen pounds per annum, and for an increase of their own pay sufficient to enable them and their families to live in the same comfortable manner as seamen and marines did in the time of Charles II. ; for, strange to tell, as is pointed out in this address, their wages were still as low as they had been fixed by Act of Parliament more than a century before, "when the necessaries of life and slops of every denomination were at least thirty per cent, cheaper." The address to the Admiralty is more emphatic, and presents a fuller tale of wrongs, and yet does not even mention the hardships of impressment and flogging, which formed the leading articles of indictment among non-seafaring people and parliamentary philanthropists. In addition to the insuffi- ciency of pay, the demands therein set forth are as follows : — "First, That our provisions be raised to the weight of sixteen ounces to the pound, and of a better quality ; and that our measures may be the same as those used in the commercial trade of the country. ' ' Secondly, . . . There should be no flour served while we are in harbour, in any port whatever, under the command of the British flag ; and also, that there might be granted a sufficient quantity of vegetables of such kind as may be the most plentiful in the ports to which we go ; which we grievously complain and lay under the want of. "Thirdly, . . . To look into the state of the sick on board H.M. ships, that they may be better attended to, and that . . . such necessaries as are allowed for them in time of sickness ... be not on any account embezzled. ' ' Foui'thly, . . . That we may in somewise have grant and opportunity to taste the sweets of liberty on shore, when in any harbour, and when we have completed the duty of our ship . . . ; which is a natural request, and congenial to the heart of man, and certainly to us, that you make the boast of being the guardians of the land. " Fifthly, That if any man is wounded in action, his pay be continued until he is cured and discharged ; and if any ship has any real grievances to complain of, we hope your Lordships will readily redress them, as far as in your power, to prevent any disturbances." In the preamble and the epilogue of this wail from the sea, care was taken to speak with deference, moderation, and patriotism, so that no pitiable excuse might be given to a dense-hearted and close-fisted government 389 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. to cover a refusal of these demands with charges of disrespect, disloyalty, laziness, cowardice, and revolutionary ideas ; and the nation at large gave its fullest sympathy to the demands of the brave, ill-treated, and half-paid tars, — demands or "requests" so modestly put forth by the thousands of men whom the rulers of England, as the petition sarcastically puts it, " make the boast of being the guardians of the land." Not only would they " suffer double the hardships we have hitherto experienced before we would suffer the crown of England to be in the least imposed upon by that of any other Power in the world," but it was also — these are the closing words — "unanimously agreed by the fleet, that from this day no grievances shall be received, in order to convince the nation at large that we know when to cease to ask as well as to begin, and that we ask nothing but what is moderate and may be granted without detriment to the nation or injury to the service." Our Jolly Tars a Century ago. There is nothing fabulous or magnified in all this tale of woe ; it is not the cry of peevish discontent, but a manly-spoken claim for justice. The lines of the "jolly tars " who manned our wooden walls and -won our victories, and slashed right and left the fleets of the world, were in nowise fallen :in pleasant places. There is nothing over- drawn for comic effect in the terrible and ; scathing exposure of naval life made in the career of that rollicking scapegrace, " Roderick Randon " ; in fact, we have there irevealed a mere sample of the enormities 'endured by poor Tom Bovvhng so late even as the year of grace 1797. The immorality, anortality, disease, cursings, floggings, and desertions, cannot be inspected closely by a modern reader without a feeling of wonder, horror, and disgust. A man-of-war was not, as now, one of the healthiest places to inhabit in the world ; the food, the cruelty, the restrictions were so shocking that suffi- cient volunteers could not be had to man lOur fleet. The men were at the mercy of ;tyrant officers like Captain Oakum, and an : impressed seaman of this very time has left on record that there was " starting and rflogging all day long," and that on the very first night he spent on board he saw seven ■men flogged because they were not smart 'enough ; the purser was simply a robber by prescription, making;^!, 000 a year online-of- battle ships, although he had no pay from Government, for he was privileged to retain an eighth of all provisions for the seamen, on the score of waste or leakage ; and every- thing doled out was of the worst description. The ration for meat was one pound per day, but rarely did more than one-third reach the hands of the tar; the salt beef and pork were sometimes mixed up by contractors with salted horse, and were often flavourless and polished like a cornelian, after having become indurated with salt in voyaging over and over the seas for years ; cheese, butter, breakfast cocoa, water, all were often in the last stage of rottenness. Of these things Roderick Random speaketh truly : " We had languished five weeks on the allowance of a purser's quart per diem for each man, in the torrid zone, where the sun was verti- cal, and the expense of bodily fluid so great that a gallon of liquor could scarce supply the waste of twenty-four hours. . . Our pro- vision consisted of putrid salt beef, to which the sailors gave the name of "Irish horse" ; salt pork of New England, which, though neither flesh nor fish, savoured of both ; bread from the same country, every biscuit whereof, like a piece of clockwork, moved by its own internal impulse, occasioned by the myriads of insects that dwelt within it ; and butter served out by the gill, that tasted like train oil, thickened with salt." But as "a sorrow's crown of sorrow " lies in remember- ing happier things, two-and-a-half gills of new rum were daily administered to the tars in order to preserve them from that unpleasant state of mind. Add to all this the fearful ravages of disease, the horrid condition of the unfortunate sick (that too has been described by Smollett), the embezzlement of their medicines and necessaries, the abomi- nable associates with whom the true tar was forced to mingle, and to lay the copestone of hardship, the fact that he was absolutely lorded over by " a petty monarch, whose slightest caprice was indisputable law," with no appeal from any wrong save to a " code of jurisdiction so severe that every line appears to have been traced in blood, and every other penalty is a shameful death." What of the "sweets of liberty" when in port ? Men who should have gained their freedom from the service in three years were drafted from ship to ship and sent away into distant service, as if they were no freemen, but prisoners and slaves, at the pleasure ot His Majesty's commanders ; and as the sea- men were only allowed a few hours on shore, it was impossible for them, in most instances, to pay even a flying visit to their homes, their mothers, their wives, their children. The picture of a man-of-war in port during the great war is too degraded for a modern pen to trace ; hundreds of the vilest women flocked on board whenever she arrived, and made the ship a den of pollution, on which no decent wife, or mother, or sister could set her foot. This immorality was not without an effect in spreading the mutinous spirit which existed at the Nore. An admiral then commanding a fleet on a foreign station 390 THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NO RE. found that a large number of the letters addressed to his sailors were from this class at the British ports, and urged them in the strongest terms to join the mutineers. To attempt to go on shore without leave was a terrible crime. A sailor who had been pressed into the service, after many years' absence, touched at his native port, but no ■women were allowed on board, and even his aged mother and sister, although they came a.longside, did not obtain the privilege. In the darkness he swam ashore, remained at liome for a few hours, and returned early in the morning. He was discovered, however, by the captain, tried by court-martial, and •sentenced to a severe punishment with that sovereign remedy, the cat-o'-nine-tails. One-half of the seamen during the great war were captured by that odious institution, the press-gang, which had its head-quarters at the "Royal Naval Rendezvous," on Tower Hill, London. In the adjacent public-houses, as one writer has described it, there might be seen alluring pictures of Jack dancing horn- pipes on deck with a lieutenant, or hob- nobbing over his grog with an admiral, or slaying half-a-dozen Frenchmen before breakfast, or lighting his pipe on shore with Bank of England notes. When genuine volunteers became scarce and deserters many, there was no scruple about accepting the garbage of society, such as dishonest clerks and excisemen of damaged reputation. In the urgency of the great war. the very gaols were emptied, and thieves and mur- derers were thrown into the drag-net of the siavy ; and all these means being insuffi- cient, the country pressed everybody she could lay hands on. We are told that apprentices showed their indentures in vain ; people would come home from China or Honolulu, and fall into the clutches of the press-gang five minutes after they set their foot on shore ; bags of money would l)e found on posts on Tower Hill, left by persons who had been kidnapped unawares ; anen would leave public-houses for a moment to see what kind of a night it was and never be heard of again. These are only a few of the •evil ways by which our navy was recruited, and of the dreadful hardships endured by the brave mariners of England, who toiled and bled for the munificent figure of ninepence three farthings a day ; but they will serve to interline the modest and moderate complaints presented to the consideration and acceptance of the Government of England. The terrible articles of war are still read constantly upon our men-of-war, but the seamen, better edu- cated, better paid, better fed, self-reliant, sober, and little given to violence, regard them only as a bogie ; and although some rough-and-ready officers of the old school look upon the times of our wooden walls as the golden age of the navy, there are few indeed who will not respect the man-of-war's man of to-day as a vast improvement on the drunken, rollicking tar of a hundred years ago. Visit of the Admiralty to Portsmouth. Those petitions, with the genuine signa- tures of Val Joyce, Jack Morris, Pat Glynn, Joe Green, Bill Potts, and twenty-seven other British seamen, delegates of the Channel Fleet, looked like the first rush of a lurid storm. The already terrified metropolis was panic-stricken as by the sudden shock of an earthquake. The mutiny of the English mariners, of whose bravery and unstained loyalty every Englishman was justly proud, and on whose sometimes wayward follies on shore he looked with fond indulgence, was the theme of anxious conversation at every fireside, every street corner, every tavern. It was feared that the Channel might become an opeji pathway for the ships and privateers of France; and, indeed, in' Paris it was almost believed that England would sink from being queen of the ocean waves into a feeble and dependent power, without a voice in the councils of Europe. The rumour even flew through London that the seamen had refused to advance to meet the enemy. My Lord Bridport and other great men who thought they held in their hands the key of Europe's freedom and of England's great- ness might not now quietly lay the complaints aside, and, hands in pockets, denounce the whole affair as a scandal got up by ill-disposed persons against the Government of William Pitt. A Cabinet Council was summoned in hot haste on the 17th, and it was there and then determined that Spencer and two Junior Lords of the Admiralty should hie to Portsmouth ; the idea being indulged that the appearance of those great officials would at once act as a magical sedative on the fevered spirits of the simple-minded men. On their arrival, a consultation was held on shore with the best admirals, and an immediate answer to the petition was despatched through Lord Bridport, directing him to take the speediest method of communicating to the fleet that they would recommend His Majesty to propose to Parliament an increase of wages, that wounded seamen would enjoy full pay until cured, or until, if completely invalided, they should be received into Greenwich Hospital, or retire with a pension. Finally, with a strong "puff'" of the courage, loyalty, and "spirit which always so eminently distinguished British seamen," they desired them to return at once to duty, as it might be necessary for the fleet to put immediately to sea in order to meet the enemy of the country. This was too meagre a sop for Cerberus to 391 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. swallow. The increase offered by my Lords was 4J-. per month to petty officers and able seamen; 3^. per month to ordinary seamen; and IS. per month to landsmen. But there was not a word as to the quantity of pro- visions of which the pursers robbed them ; not a word as to the quality of the abominable dog's meat doled out to these patriot martyrs whose life was worse than a dog's ; not a word as to the fresh vegetables in port ; not a word as to the treatment of the sick and wounded, so scathingly exposed in the familiar tale of "Roderick Random"; not a word as to the sweets of liberty on shore. Is it to be wondered at that, in their reply of the 19th April, these points should be insisted on again by the delegates, who had not yet succumbed to the magical presence of the Lords ; that they should insist still on the redress of the grievances of particular ships, in other words, the removal of ob- noxious officers ; and that they should now, remembering the fate of the men of the Culloden, who had been hanged by the neck two years before in spite of an assurance of pardon, express their determination not to lift an anchor until an Act of Indemnity was passed ? They also, with a tone of conscious strength far different from their meek first petition, offered some " remarks " for the "consideration" of the Board, viz., IS. per day for able seamen, and a propor- tionate increase to the others ; a similar increase for marines when on board ; the augmentation of the Greenwich pensions to ^10, towards which the sailors would give one shilling per month ; and that this in- crease should be extended to the seamen of the East India Company, most of whom were obtained from the navy ; for " we have seen them," said they, "with our own eyes, after sickness or other accident has disabled them, without any hope of relief or support, but from their former service in the navy." Scene on the "Charlotte"; The Red Flag hoisted. Although a message of the following day yielded to the seamen their demands as to increase of pay and provisions and the full allowance to the wounded, the foolhardy Lords closed their gift with an ungracious thj-eaf, that every company which did not return to duty within an hour would be answerable for "the dreadful consequences which will necessarily attend their continuing to transgress the rules of the service, in open violation of the laws of their country." The foot of the determined tars was not to be raised by leverage like this; and on the morning of Friday the 21st, Admirals Gardner, Colpoys, and Cole, went off to hold a conference with the delegates of the fleet, Lord Spencer not being permitted to go, as it was urged that he was too tempting a prize to be placed in the hands of the mutineers. The upshot was disastrous. Although the flag-officers were received on board the Charlotte with all due honours^ and found the delegates respectful in language and demeanour, yet these last were deter- mined to accept no terms except by Act of Parliament, or rest on any promise unless given under the King's signature, Gardner,, who was a thorough and a popular seaman^ but of a very nervous temperament, which caused him many a sleepless night, although it never suffered him to lack coolness and courage in presence of a foe, unfortunately lost his temper in the debate. He denounced the seamen as cowards, " a set of skulking fellows who knew the French were ready for sea;" and seizing one of the delegates by the collar, he swore that they should all be hanged, along with every fifth man in the fleet. The crew made a furious rush towards the quarter-deck, and the choleric admiral might have gone overboard, had he not succeeded in extricating himself from the grip of his assailants. Jumping into the hammock nettings of the ship, and placing his neck in the noose of a " yard-rope," he called out, " If you will return to your duty^ you may hang me at the yard-arm !" This heroic speech instantly stopped the onset of the sailors, and at once changed their indig- nation into cheers for the brave and really beloved officer. Negotiations, however, were broken off:, Bridport struck his flag upon the Charlotte f the delegates assembled on the Royal George^, in answer to the blood-red flag of war which was now hoisted ; watches were set and the guns shotted ; the officers were made pri- soners ; and on that evening Spencer re- turned in ha-ste to town with the dreadful news. The peop'e on shore were alarmed at the sight of the " bloody flag," the signal of a. challenge ti' :ombat, which called up in their imagination a host of hideous fears ; but the good-hearted tars were themselves soon struck wiih repentance for the unhappy extreme of disrespect to which they had been dri/^en, and on the following day the delegates, whose storm of indignation had by this time fallen into a gentle breeze, penned a humble letter to Bridport, their commander, in which they affectionately termed him their "father and friend." They also addressed a letter of gratitude to the Admiralty for an order, which Bridport read to them that morning, in which some of their demands were granted ; but they still insisted on an Act of Parliament and other unyielded items ; and so little, with all their tender- ness, was their determination moved, that in the evening particular orders were issued 39: THE MUTINIES AT S PITHEAD AND THE NORE. The Outbreak of the Mutinv at Spithead— The Sailors refusing to put to Sea. 393 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. that on the next morning, which was Sunday, ever>' sailor should appear on the rigging with clean clothes and give the three customary cheers. Accordingly, the shouts sounded more lustily than ever on that April morning, and the flag of defiance still streamed from the Royal George. But the fight was won. No sooner had Lord Spencer reached the city than a meet- ing of the Cabinet was held ; he hurried off to Windsor, and on the forenoon of that same Sunday Lord Bridport and other officers stepped on board the Royal George, ihanded a copy of the royal pardon to the captain of each vessel, and exhibited the original proclamation to the suspicious dele- I gates on the Charlotte; the commander's 'flag was once more hoisted, the terrible red flag fell, three hearty cheers arose from every icrew, and every man at Spithead declared liis readiness to perform the commands of his superiors. On Monday afternoon choleric old Gardner dropped down to St. Helen's ,with the first division of the fleet. The agreement did not come one moment too soon, for the Plymouth squadron also mutinied at this juncture, and a week ,elapsed before they learned from men whom they had despatched in a cutter to Spithead that the demands of the seamen were finally settled, and that the cry of "All's well!" might once more be shouted as truly as of old. The Mutiny at St. Helen's ; One More Blunder. Bis dat qui cito dat. The niggardly in- difference and left-handed generosity with which the seamen of the Channel had been treated left them in a suspicious and explo- sive mood, which the slightest spark would start off again into a more desperate rebellion. Several of the crews, indeed, hesitated to move from Spithead because their demand for the removal of certain officers had been refused ; nor had the rest of the fleet gained absolute confidence in the temper of the Government. Apart from the delay — necessary, it was alleged, for the preparation of estimates — in presenting a Bill to the Commons for increase of the seamen's pay, no step could be more imprudent than that taken by the Admiralty on the 1st of May. An order, of the most provoking character alike to officers and seamen, was issued to all the commanders of the navy, declaring that it had "become highly necessary that the strictest attention should be paid by all officers . . . not only to their own conduct, but to the conduct of those who may be under their orders ; " it even condescended to intimate that choice pieces of beef, or select casks of wine or spirits, should not be taken for the officers from the stock of the ship's company, etc., — good enough advice, indeed ! — and captains and commanders were to " see that the arms and ammunition belonging to the marines be constantly kept in good order and fit for immediate service, as well in harbour as at sea ; " as if the brave British tars, who had crowned the history of England with centuries of glory, were no better than the herds of Egyptian slaves who in old times dragged the obelisks and vast stones of the pyramids, to be flogged and shot down like brute beasts ! There was very soon a favourable chance for showing the wisdom of this precious missive. Handbills went round the ships, warning the crews of the unwillingness of the House of Lords to stand to the promises by which the tars had been beguiled ; and these, coupled with the threats of bayonets and guns, bore fruit on Sunday the yth of May. On Bridport's giving orders to weigh anchor, the old cheers which prefaced mutiny were heard again, the " yard-ropes " were once more rove, delegates were again elected, and the officers stripped of their command. The First Bloodshed ; A Sad Procession. The delegates, more determined than before, proceeded to invite the whole Channel Fleet to anchor at St. Helen's : a frigate was despatched to the mutinous ships at Ply- mouth ; the squadron at Torbay was also to be summoned ; and orders were sent for the London and the Marlborough, which were still lying at Spithead. When the delegates approached the former of these two vessels. Sir John Colpoys, vice-admiral, whose blue flag was flying on that ship, ordered the officers and marines to arms. It was in vain that the crew, after some hesitation, came aft and requested the admission of the delegates ; a sailor proceeded to unlash one of the guns and point it towards the quarter-deck ; Lieu- tenant Bover threatened to shoot him if he did not desist ; and when the sailor refused to obey, the officer killed him on the spot with a pistol. The sailors ran for their arms, and the officers were overpowered. Bover was hurried towards the fatal yard-arm by the indignant comrades of the murdered man, and was only saved by the intercession of the admiral, who declared that the act was done by his own order. Several seamen, however, were slain and wounded in the desperate scuffle, and their wrathful companions im- prisoned Colpoys and the other officers ; the bloody flag was hoisted in the place of the blue bunting of the admiral ; and with the dead and wounded the London and the Marlborough sailed down to St. Helen's with their tragic tale. Still the hearts of the tars were loyal to old England, and when some persons were heard talking of surren- dering their vessel to the French, she was 394 THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NORE. threatened with destruction by the delegates, and guard-boats were stationed round her night and day. On the next Tuesday, Portsmouth wit- nessed the melancholy procession which followed the bodies of three men who had perished by what a coroner's jury had pro- nounced "justifiable homicide." They were ■conveyed from Haslar Hospital in the Londotis launch with the colours half-mast liigh ; they were landed at the Commons Hard, now " neither the most cleanly nor the most moral spot in the world ; " guns had been planted as if to defend the garrison from a siege. But all was peaceful. Before the first coffin there were borne two colours, and one before each of the others, half-struck ; behind walked fifty of the dead men's ship- Tnates, two by two ; nearly the same number of women followed, dressed in black, and six other women on either side of the coffins. Amid the silent and immense crowds the mournful procession wended its way through Portsea aAd other villages, until the remains of the first three victims of the year of mu- tinies were laid in their last resting-place in the churchyard of Kingston. Arrival of the Sailors' Friend. The very elements seemed to be in wild sympathy with men's uncertain minds. A fierce storm swept over the ships at St. Helen's and in the Channel. In London there were •dark fears as to Colpoys and his rash sup- porters. The seamen deliberated, quite re- spectfully, as to whether the admiral should be put to death on the spot. In a work of great rarity we read a story that may in part account for his escape, and which at the same time displays the finer spirit of the British tar. " A man was heard to call him a ' rascal,' or some such words. Notwithstanding the furious irritation which at that moment agitated the whole crew, the habit of respect and regard for a beloved commander prevailed so far as to turn part of their resentment against the person who dared to use such language to their admiral, who was uncommonly regarded, and they threatened to punish or throw the offender overboard." Meanwhile aristocratic London and the British Parliament had other great and grave affairs to talk of besides the woes of sailors. There was "marrying and giving in mar- riage," as in the days of Noah. In answer to the King's message of the 3rd of May, a bridal gift of ^80,000 was granted to his eldest daughter on the 4th ; and on that same day a loan of _;^2,ooo,ooo to perfidious Austria was agreed to, while the business of the poor seamen was deferred for considera- tion to the 8th. There was need for haste when that day came. Pitt rose to move his resolution in a state of great agitation ; and on that same evening a Cabinet Council decided on sending the resohition by express to the fleet. On the following day the Bill passed through both Houses at a single sitting. In spite of the triumphant news, the em- bittered sailors read with rancorous pleasure the fierce attacks of Fox, Sheridan, and Whitbread. There had been wild and ran- dom cries afloat among the panic-stricken citizens of the metropolis, such as that the king himself should visit the rebellious fleet ; but wise men found the true magician of the waves in the venerable Richard Howe. When the sailors heard that Black Dick was coming among them at last ; when they saw their feeble and crippled hero carried from a barge on board the Royal George on Wed- nesday afternoon ; when they listened to the reasonings and chidings of the Napoleon of the British navy, who had led many of them in many a deadly action, and had wept out words of gratitude with all his big heart before their eyes after the glorious engage- ment of the 1st of June, — then the mutiny was simply doomed. He carried with him authority, carte blanche, for the final settle- ment. It was supremely touching to see the worn veteran doing his last service to the country he had served so well and so long, day after day moving from ship to ship, and listening with the patience of a true friend to the tales of wrong poured eagerly into his ear by the seamen's deputies. The other crews refused all intercourse with two ships that defiantly nailed the red colours to the mast-head until they finally surrendered ; they begged forgiveness of Gardner, and with three hearty cheers welcomed him again on his own quarter-deck ; and they yielded to the skilful suggestion of Black Dick that they should formally express contrition to him for their conduct, and ask his good offices. Lastly, each company, by his ad- vice, presented its separate petition to him for the removal of certain officers ; and these in their turn resigned connexion with those that entertained for them so little respect. By such prudent means the wise old admiral granted all demands to the seamen, veiling " the dangerous concession so skilfully that it assumed the form of a gracious indulgence rather than a yielding to mutinous dicta- tion." The tars were "jolly" once more, and they subjected the "sailors' friend" on Sunday and Monday to a true ovation. It was a story to be told over and over, how Val Joyce, one of the delegates, a Belfast tobacconist who had been sent into the service on a charge of treason, was invited on Sunday into the governor's mansion, and joined the old admiral over a glass of wine ! The pardon arrived that evening, and early 395 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. on Monday morning the delegates landed at Portsmouth, marched up to the governor's to the strains of " Rule, Britannia," and par- took of some refreshment. At eight their venerable chief embarked amid the cheers of the boats' crews, attired in their best clothes, and with a salute of ordnance. Several ships were visited, and the fervent thanks of the seamen received by him ; and the Spithead mutineers crowned their return to allegiance by bearing him that evening on their shoulders to the residence of the governor. This was Howe's last great ser- vice, which no other man in all England could have done so well ; and yet there were people so unwise and ungrateful as to de- clare that Black Dick was in his dotage. The Spreading of the Weed ; The Outbreak at the Nore. Although the weed had now been cleanly rooted out at Portsmouth and Plymouth, the hesitating, languid, and ungenerous action of the authorities had given ample time for the planting of dangerous seeds in other portions of the navy. They cropped up in turn at the Nore, at Yarmouth, on the coast of Spain, and even at the Cape of Good Hope. Handbills were being circulated that served to stir the embers of discontent ; and these were written, it was alleged, not in the language of seamen, but in the style of the circulating library. Then why not keep the car rolling, and trample down every wrong from which the seamen suf- fered.'' On the I2th of May, 1797, before Richard Howe had wound up his Ports- mouth triumph, there arose a more ferocious mutiny ; indeed, says Earl Stanhope, " no crisis so alarming, or nearly so alarming, has ever been known in England since the Revolution of 1688." The sailors of the fleet lying at the mouth of the Medway had partaken of breakfast that morning as usual, and at half-past nine those on board the Sandwich, which carried the flag of Admiral Buckner, received orders to clear the hawse. At that moment a num- ber of the captains were holding a court- martial on board the hiflexible. The command of Lieutenant Justice on the Sandwich was answered by three cheers from the crew ; the yard-ropes of this famous ninety-gun ship were rove by the sailors, and the forecastle guns were brought aft to the quarter-deck. Cheers were heard all round, and the whole fleet was instantly in possession of the several crews. Delegates were chosen, a committee was selected from their number, and at the head of all was placed a "president." The person appointed to this equivocal honour was Richard Parker, a man of thirty-five, and a native of the town of Exeter, who had served in the navy during previous years, and had several times been discharged for bad conduct or for lunacy. He had received a better education than the great mass of his comrades, and in the position of a super- numerary on the Sandwich- -?i. class of idle seamen from whom the petty officers of the fleet were chiefly drafted, and of whom there were a large number under the command of Buckner — he enjoyed sufficient leisure to speculate on the great possibilities of dis- turbance or reform awakened by the Spit- head mutiny. It has been supposed, on no sure ground, however, that he and others in the fleet were filled with the revolutionary ideas that had swept over the Continent, and found expression even in the " corresponding societies " of steady-going England. Not only was the Spithead token of defi- ance, in the shape of the bloody flag, hoisted by these new mutineers, but from the first a more reckless spirit revealed itself in every action : in the fact that for days they made no statement of their grievances ; in the fact that on the morning after the outbreak the Inflexi- ble, while passing down to the Nore with the red flag flying, fired in the St. Fiorenzo until her crew raised the cheer, which they had refused on the previous evening ; and in the fact that on that same day the crew of the Chajnpion, on reaching the destination at the Little Nore to which their captain had been ordered, seized the command and proceeded with the vessel to the Great Nore, declaring that that was their destination by order of the president and delegates. On the 14th, four delegates were despatched to Ports- mouth to consult with their " brethren " ; and one of these, who deserted by the way, made a mysterious confession to his captain that Parker held communication with a " man in black," and received "plenty of money" for the leaders of the mutiny. It may just be mentioned that this proved a fruitless mission, in spite of the inforrrlation given by the president to Admiral Buckner, that a little bird had whispered in his ear that the Spit- head fleet would join him. Deliberations and Frolics of the Delegates. Every day the inhabitants of Sheerness witnessed a formidable line of boats, with that of the president at its head, moving from the ships to the shore, to the strains of " Rule, Britannia," " God save the King," " Britons, strike home," or other patriotic songs ; this was followed by a procession on shore, when a large number of the seamen, armed with pistols and cutlasses, walked in peaceful order behind the red ensign of the "sailors' cause." It was in Sheerness that the delegates held their conferences, the " Royal Arch " and " Chequers " public- houses being the favourite seats of this new 396 THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NORE. naval legislature ; and there, when the serious deliberations of the day were over, they were accustomed to enjoy a "grand dinner," and quaff the pint of beer provided for them out of a fund collected from the ships' companies. These visits occasioned deep alarm among the peaceable people of Sheerness, who expected every day to be subjected to the horrors of a siege ; and many of the inhabi- tants, principally women and children, fled with their movables to Chatham and other places, among the former being the wife of the master of the dockyard, who escaped with three hundred pounds in gold concealed about her person. On one occasion, the dele- gates paid a visit to the sick seamen in their quarters, and used such menacing language that the surgeon fled in terror of his life, while his assistant took the more desperate course of cutting his own throat. The obnoxious boatswain of the Proserpine was seized on shore, carried off to the fleet, and there condemned to death. As the rope was being placed round his neck to run him up to the yard-arm, he succeeded in whisper- ing in the ear of one who was beside him that any offence he might have committed was done in obedience to the superior ofticers. The grim judges — if after all the affair was anything more than a practical joke — were moved by this appeal to mitigate the penalty of death into one of harmless ridicule. His hands were tied behind his back ; a large mop was fastened on each shoulder, and a rope around his neck ; he was then placed with these shackles and decorations in a boat, and rowed through the fleet in manner of a guy, to the sound of the " Rogue's March " beat upon a drum ; thereafter he was landed at Sheerness, and finally set free, after having been marched through the dockyard and garrison under a guard of mutineers. Proposals of the Mutineers ; Fresh Blunders and High Jinks. After eight days of this huge and danger- ous and insane folly. Admiral Buckner arrived on board the Sandwich with a pro- clamation of pardon, granted on the same terms as had been accepted by the Spithead seamen, — terms which Parker and the other delegates had previously assured him would completely satisfy their wishes. The brave commander was not even welcomed with the customary honours of his rank. He saw that his officers were deprived of their side-arms, and had no command on board. Parker, who had been on shore engaged in a pro- cession, at last arrived, and handed him the list of articles, eight in number: (i) Asking the same indulgence for the Nore seamen as had been granted to the men at Portsmouth ; (2) greater liberty for every man, so that he might be able to visit his friends ; (3) pay- ment of all arrears of wages down to six months before the ships proceeded to sea ; (4) no dismissed officers to be re-employed in the same ship without consent of the ship's company ; (5) newly pressed men to receive two months' advance to furnish them with necessaries; (6) indemnification of deserters; (7) a more equal distribution of the prize- money ; (8) a mitigation of the articles of war. Whatever the justice of these claims — the first had really been granted in the Ports- mouth settlement, and the others (if we except the sixth, which is destructive of all order) are perfectly capable of defence — the tone of dictation which inspires their expres- sion, and especially the closing paragraph, is indefensible, and forms an unpleasing con- trast to the moderate and courteous requests of the Spithead men. Buckner saw that his authority upon the fleet was gone ; the sea- men paid no heed to his remonstrance against those " disgraceful ropes called yard- ropes" being always kept hanging; and among other insolent talk and conduct Parker prevented one man from answering a question put to him by the admiral, with the remark, " Hold your tongue ; if you don't, I'll take care of you." It would be tedious and fruitless here to track out at length the lingering steps of the Admiralty, which had in the Spithead crisis committed the same blunder and had also condemned itself by want of tact, — a blunder of which Parker and his associates were too late in seeking to grasp the advantage, for had they at once stood down the river be- yond the difficulties of the buoys and beacons, the mutiny of the Nore would not merely have convulsed England, but might have weakened the foundations of her empire. As it happened, the Board at first (23rd May) distinctly refused the terms of the mutineers, and expressed their determination not to visit Sheerness; and two days later again transmitted their reply. The reckless assur- ance of the mutineers was not lessened one iota by these unyielding missives, and it was bolstered up by the belief that the same spirit of rebellion was stirring in the army. On the very day on which the Board's reply first reached the fleet, Parker and several other delegates forced themselves into the presence of Admiral Buckner, in Sheerness, formally demanding the liberation of two drunken marines ; the foolish president taunted him with being no longer admiral ol the fleet, as his flag was now struck, and that he (Parker) had now the power in his own hands. Captain Cunningham, of the Clyde on hearing this insult, was "about to seal the fate of Parker," but was held back by a brother officer; and in the end the intoxicated 397 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. men were allowed to be carried off to the fleet, as it was " a small matter" ! In further defiance, a strong party rowed into Sheerness harbour, seized a number of gun-boats, scaled the guns, and threatened to fire on the garrison. On the morning of the 25th, every ship in the fleet proceeded to the Nore, bearing on the mast-head the bloody flag, and every man and virago wore a red ribbon in the hat or cap. At this juncture, Parker at last took notice of the letters of the Admi- ralty, stating that the mutineers would make no " accommodation " until the Lords Com- missioners appeared in person at the Nore, and redressed their grievances. Far from being alarmed by the firm front and the commands and threats of the Admiralty, they had now taken a step, the aim of which was to blockade the commerce of the metro- polis by stretching a line of armed " wooden walls " across the pathway of the Thames ; they had already despatched seventeen de- puties to enlist Duncan's fleet at Yarmouth in the " sailors' cause " ; and on Saturday a cutter proceeded up the river to Long Reach, to bring down the turbulent Lancaster, the Agincourt, and the Naiad to the station at the Nore. Parker and the Admiralty; Escape OF THE " Clyde." In spite of all their protestation, Spencer and two other Lords of the Admiralty flattered the obstinacy of the mutineers by paying a short visit to Sheerness ; held an interview with their leaders, Spencer actually submitting to hear from the lips of Parker, who acted as spokesman for his twelve disciples, the insulting remark — " Go and consult the ringleaders of your gang!" My Lords thereupon returned to town, empty- handed as they came, leaving the men "to become temperate at their leisure," — the sarcastic expression used in a letter of Earl Howe, the peacemaker of Spithead, who attributes the " seeming reasonable discon- tents " to the incompetence of the persons who had the immediate superintendence of the seamen, to the delays in the Admiralty courts, and the chicanery of practitioners and prize-agents. The proclamation of the royal pardon was sent to the fleet, but was suffered to be read on only seven of the ships. Two of these, the Clyde and St. Fiorenzo, instantly and unanimously hauled down the bloody flag, hoisting the white one in its place, amid three rounds of deafening cheers. On other ships a determined struggle was carried on be- tween the parties of resistance and sub- mission ; the captains made strenuous efforts to support the latter ; alternately the red and white colours were hoisted and lowered ; but in the end the former triumphed. The guns of the ruthless Inflexible, the coryphseus of the mutiny, were pointed at the loyal Clyde, which once more hoisted the bloody flag out of respect for this strong pressure. But the two submissive ships, which the Inflexible offered to go alongside with the object of taking vengeance on the officers and every ' tenth man, were determined on escape from the clutches of the mutinous vessels. A little after midnight, on the 30th, the Clyde drifted in dead silence up the river with the flood-tide, and at sunrise came off Garrison Point, near Sheerness, greeted by volleys of cheers from the soldiers on the shore. Shortly after midday, the St. Fiorenzo took the opposite course, and ran through the mutinous fleet under fire, with only a slight damage to her rigging ; but down the river she encountered another danger, in the shape of a number of vessels from the North Sea Fleet on their way to join the "brethren" at the Nore. As she still prudently and fortunately kept the bloody flag flying at her masthead, the new recruits gave her an ovation of mutinous cheers, amid which she sped on her way to the harbour of Harwichy in order to convey to the Continent the book-hunting Prince of Wiirtemberg and his happy English bride. Arrival of the North Sea Fleet? Blockade of the Thames. This defection, but for the accession of fresh blood from Yarmouth, would probably have ended the odious mutiny. Parker had learned at last that the soldiers were against him. A band of mutineers had met a regiment on its arrival at Sheerness gar- rison, and one of them, relying on the sympathy of the privates, had thrust a red flag in the face of the commanding officer ; but as his insult was not received as he had anticipated, he was compelled to fly for his life, seeking safety in a haystack, from which he was ignominiously dragged and carried off to prison. At the same time that the daily arrivals of vessels from the North Sea Fleet lent a new courage to the mutineers, their departure from the command of Ad- miral Duncan was a serious peril to the shores of England. It was with a sad heart that the brave old Scotsman, in a few months to become the hero of Camperdown, awoke one morning to find that his whole arma- ment had forsaken him, his own flagship and another vessel being all that were now left him to proceed with to the Texel and hold the Dutch fleet at bay. He summoned his crew on deck, made a touching speech that melted every one of his " brave lads " into tears, in the spirit of true British heroism proceeded to the Texel, and day after day made a show of signalling as if to vessels in the offing, so as to keep the Dutch squadron 398 THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NORE. under the delusion that the rest of the fleet was near. Fortunately for England, this ruse was thoroughly successful. Conferences, indeed, were still held on shore between the delegates and the autho- rities, but Parker was now daring enough to defy the royal proclamation, which presented the alternative of the articles or uncon- ditional submission, and to denounce it to the Admiral as "foolish and irritating to honest men ; " he and his fellow ringleaders, knowing that for them at least there was no place for repentance, decided on dying " game." The commerce of the Thames and the Medway was now completely blocked ; on either hand of the fleet there was a perfect forest of masts, among other vessels detained at Gravesend by order of the Government being the ships of the Hudson's Bay Company, which usually sailed in May; the metropolis itself trembled in fear of a siege. Fishing-boats, however, were per- mitted to ply upon the idle waters of the Thames, and a few merchantmen were allowed to pass upwards by virtue of an order signed by " Richard Parker, Presi- dent." The wrath of the British lion was at last roused. The city and the parliament rose in giant anger and strength. On the 3rd of June an Act of Parliament declared any person liable to the penalty of death who should endeavour to seduce sailors or soldiers from their duty ; and three days later a still more drastic Act forbade every species of intercourse with mutinous vessels. The Commissioners of the Admiralty instantly declared the Sandwich and her comrades in a state of mutiny. There could be no mercy but by their will to any one of the thousands of mutineers. The rebels passed in turn from signs of loyalty to deeds of barbarous defiance. They lowered the bloody flag, hoisted the royal flag, and fired a salute of twenty-one guns on the 4th'*of June, the King's birth- day. After a mock trial for " conspiracy," they lashed severely a number of mates and other officers on the Monmouth, also shaving the head of one offender. They ducked officers, with several souses, from the yard- arm ; they tarred and feathered them, and thus rowed them through the fleet, — bar- barities which, recited by the officers when set on shore, hastened the day of retribution. In sore straits for fresh provisions, the mutineers were forced into acts of piracy. Not content with rifling the stores of two store-ships, the Grampus and Serapis, they stole the flour of trading vessels ; seized the salmon of Scottish smacks (in one case Parker gave the master an order on the Admiralty !) ; half-murdered the master of a Dutch scoot and his two sons for daring to beg a few shillings from the robber-" admiral " to keep them from starving in London ; and tried their hand at sheep-stealing and cattle- lifting on the Isle of Sheppy. The very surgeons had deserted them. Fifty or sixty ^ sick whom they sent to the Spanker, a' hospital ship, were ordered back by the Admiral, and these poor fellows carried back in their repentant bosoms copies of the latest royal proclamation. This helped to burst the Parker bubble. The treasure-chest had been removed to Chatham from timid Sheerness. Strong forces of the military were summoned to London, and stationed down the river ; the naval officers of the East India Company who were at home tendered their services \ the companies of London sent down volun- teers ; vessels were rapidly manned by Government, under the direction of Sir Erasmus Gower; the Medway and Sheer- ness harbours were closed by booms and chains ; batteries were planted to command the rebels, and furnaces were heated to make the balls red-hot for action ; finally, to hinder all escape, the buoys and beacons at the mouth of the Thames were removed. The question was now — starvation or surrender? They tried their last mad mission upon the 6th. They sent up Lord Northesk with their stern ultimatum, to be answered in fifty-four hours ; if unanswered, " something would happen that would astonish the nation," — they would put to sea. The reply was, — unconditional submission. Hanging Pitt ; Parker's Washer- woman. Captain Brenton, of the Agamemnojt, one of four vessels of Duncan's fleet, that arrived upon the 6th of June, describes a freak which caused no small alarm on shore. "At sunrise I was awoke by the report of great guns and musketry, and saw what I supposed to be officers and men hanging at the yard- arms of some of the ships. They were run up in the smoke of the guns, in the manner usually practised at naval executions. While hanging, ■ volleys of musketry were fired at them ; and we concluded we were very soon to share the same fate ; nor was it till two or three hours afterwards that we were undeceived, and informed that the figures suspended were only effigies meant to re- present the Right Hon. William Pitt and Dundas, whom they familiarly termed " Billy Pitt," and considered their greatest enemy." The Serapis had cut itself free from the mutinous leash upon the 6th, suffering some damage from the guns. Two days later a captain arrived at the fleet with copies of the Acts, and the royal proclamation. The "admiral" read them to the crews, but omitted all mention of a pardon. In this 399 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY procession he made some strange speeches. The King had called them rebels. " I say we are honest men ; I and my brother delegates are all united and acting in the cause of Immxnity ; and while life animates the heart of Dick Parker, he will be true to the cause." In answer to the charge of peculating the money contributed by the seamen to the delegates, he said: "That is false ; I owe my washerwoman eigbteen- pence, and I have not even money to pay her ; " whereupon a disrespectful tar ex- claimed, "Why then, you're a precious admiral indeed ! " Break-up of the Mutiny ; Seizure and Sentence of the President. The charm was broken. There arose a dearth of water and fresh provisions ; the tyranny and the curses of Parker were like the scourges of Rehoboam ; the fact of his treacherous concealment of the pardon leaked out and spread like wildfire. _ The terror increased to madness when it was known that the merchants of London would never admit a mutineer into their service. On the 9th, a lieutenant of the Leopard unmasked the battery on her main deck; sailors ran aloft and loosed the top-sails ; her cables were cut, and away she floated up the Thames to Gravesend amid a rain of fire. A terrific struggle took place on board between the loyalists and rebels, during which a lieutenant received a mortal wound. The Repulse followed on the same day, ran aground, and lay for an hour and a half under the fire of the whole fleet ; she escaped after terrible mutilation. When she had almost reached Gravesend, some of the mutineers formed a plot to blow her up, but this was discovered in time, and the dis- affected were thrown in irons. On that morning Parker gave the signal to put out to sea. The fore top-sail of the Sandwich was loosed, a gun was fired, every ship answered ; but not one obeyed, for in spite of their mutiny the crews remembered still that they were Britons. The cries of the famishing and thirsty women and chil- dren were pitiful. A vote of want of confi- dence was passed against the rebel president, whose charm was at last broken ; the crews were broken up into parties of " Republicans" and " Loyahsts " ; flags of truce passed con- stantly from the Nore to the Sheerness ; but the mutineers, although otherwise casting themselves upon the royal clemency, gallantly refused to surrender the ringleaders, and in- sisted on a general pardon. Utter despair had roused the crews to madness, and on the evening of Monday the 12th of June, the union flag rose and fell by turns on every ship ; signals of distress were displayed, and during all that night and morning horrid scenes of violence and bloodshed occurred among the crews, in one case the struggling parties firing at each other, the guns being placed in opposite parts of the ship. Two men — one of whom was a Scotsman with the heroic narjie of V/iUiam Wallace — committed suicide in order to escape the ignominy of a public execution ; and, according to the cus- tom of the time, they were buried in a cross- road, " with a stake in their inside." It was expected that Parker would attempt to escape, and a proclamation offered a reward oi £^00 for his apprehension. By Wednesday afternoon almost every vessel had hoisted the white flag in token of surrender; and on the following day (15th June) the dishonoured Sandwich herself floated into port within gunshot of the Sheer- ness battery. The flag of her true admiral was at once hoisted ; Dick Parker, whilom "president " and "' admiral," was fast pinioned and landed at the Commissioner's Stairs, amid the hisses of the crowd. Altogether some 300 prisoners were made by the military in the surrendered ships, but of these only twenty-three underwent the punishment of death. Parker, the arch-rebel, was lodged for a few hours in the " black hole " under the chapel of Sheerness garrison, was then conveyed to Maidstone, and after a three days' trial by court-martial on board the Neptune, during which he made an able and cool defence of his conduct, was sentenced to be hanged by the neck till he was dead. A gift of five pounds sent to him by his brother was received with the pleasant re- mark that he would " have roast goose before he died." At half-past nine, on the last day of the leafy month of June, his body hung lifeless on the yard-arm of the Sandwich; and in the short space of seven minutes, so bright was the atmosphere, the Admiralty learned by telegraphic signals that the most notorious and dangerous of English mutineers was dead. M. M. 400 BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY; FROM KING JOHN TO QUEEN VICTORIA. The Barons and their Dependents— Royalty and the Barons— The early Charter of William and Henry I.— Constitutions of Clarendon — The Assize of Northampton — King John and the Barons — The Conference at St. Albans — The Meeting in the Temple— The Tryst at Runymede — Magna Charta — Its Clauses explained— Rage of John — The Confirmations of the Charter— Parliamentary Influence— Petition of Right— Charles and the Parliament— The Revolution— William and Mary— Bill of Rights— Declaration of Rights— The Act of Settlement— Modern Measures — The Chartists — The Kennington Scare — Conclusion. The Feudal System. HEN the eleventh century was draw- ing to a close the Feudal System was fully developed on the Continent ; and though it is not necessary to do more than refer to it, we must brieiiy consider the relations of the barons and their vassals, to arrive at the state of things which led to the demands for Magna Charta. William, with his Norman knights, had conquered the inde- pendent Saxons, and accordingly found it very necessary to maintain their feudal 401 organization, and to exercise a certain autho- rity upon the serfs who were within their jurisdiction. The castle dominated the vil- lage, and the baron reigned over the "villeins," or tillers of the soil. In the castle he had built dwelt the Nor- man baron with his family ; and here he passed his time when not out upon any warlike expedition. The people surrounding the castle were kept in a state of vassalage and degradation, and looked back with regret to the mild and beneficent laws of Edward DD EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the Confessor, in whose days they were an independent and prosperous community. This spirit of independence had not been crushed by the Norman Conquest ; and when William, in 1070, was recalled to England by urgent messages in consequence of the dis- affection of the people, he promulgated a Charter, or body of laws, " being the same which his predecessor and cousin observed before him," to conciliate his subjects. This instrument, the confirmation of the laws of Edward the Confessor, formed the first stepping-stone to the Great Charter wrung from John Lackland in the pastures of Runymede. But after a time each individual baron sought to enrich himself by robbery and spoliation. The barons thus became more and more isolated in their "fiefs"; and the Norman kings took every advantage of these circum- stances to aggrandize themselves at the ex- pense of the individual baron,when practicable. Encroachments by royalty soon became distasteful to these paramount lords, and they found it desirable to band themselves together to resist the too great power wielded by the king ; and in these conditions they at one time found factious assistance in Stephen the usurper, and in others who aspired to wield the British sceptre and to wear the English crown. We find from history that William II., Henry I,, and Stephen all and each had to obtain the goodwill and assist- ance of the great feudal lords, who were able to enforce their demands respecting their privileges and liberties. Again, if we peruse the history of Eng- land during the reign of Richard I., we shall see how the various factions arose in Eng- land while the regency of John was con- tinued. His never-ceasing intrigue gave rise to many such divisions, and even before that time the regency appointed by Richard had been the cause of strife. A struggle for power arose between Pudsey, the Chief Justiciary, Bishop of Durham, and Longchanip, Bishop of Ely, so another regency was decided upon, the three additional justiciaries being Hugh Bardolf, William Briwere, and Longchamp. The lastnamed soon assumed chief authority ; and when after a time Prince John gave himself all the airs of an heir- apparent, his adherents and those of Long- champ came into collision; and a disadvan- tageous treaty was concluded, by which John gained virtual possession of several royal castles, to be delivered finally to him should Richard die. The Regent was soon obliged to yield altogether, and he then fled from England. But the barons had had a taste of the sweets of power, and fancied themselves entitled to a share in the govern- ment ; while " Longbeard " stirred up the populace to a dangerous pitch. Things were so when John mounted the throne. The conflict between the races had in a great measure died out. The barons and the king's adherents were the opposing factions. John was not a sovereign to forego any of his privileges or rights, unless abso- lutely forced to do so ; and the barons, believing that they too had certain privileges, wished to compel the recognition of them. John's barons would not assist him against France, and he was universally detested for his conduct and crimes. To add to his unpopularity he managed to quarrel with the Pope, and one consequence of this was the interdict, which filled England with "lamen- tation, and mourning, and woe." The Earlier Charters. It may be accepted as a fact, that the charter by which William of Normandy agreed to follow the laws of Edward the Confessor, was the first one granted by the Normans. Henry I. also granted a charter, in which he promised to redress all the grievances of the former reigns, and one clause distinctly renews the laws of the Confessor, " with those emendations with which my father amended them with the advice of the barons." This charter of Henry I. was a very important one, although the various enactments were never carefully observed by the King. Its provisions were as follows, and it served as a basis for the Great Charter wrung from the pusillanimous John. When Henry I. came to the throne, his first act on the very day of his accession was to inform his subjects that they would surely derive great benefits from his rule. This was very politic on his part, as his weak claim to the throne required something to support it, and by uniting the interests of the people with his own, he secured the kingdom. His charter ran thus : — (i) To the Church : That on the death of an archbishop, bishop, or abbot, he would neither sell, nor let to farm, nor accept any- thing from the possessions of the Church nor its tenants during the vacancy of the see or benefice. (2) He granted to all his barons and vassals in chief the remission of various exactions to which they had been subjected, and declared that they should equally relieve their tenants. The king's license for his vassals' weddings was still retained, but with- out fee, and should not be refused unless the intended husband were an enemy. Widows were not to be married without their free consent, lyiothers of children had the ward- ship and custody of them and their lands. The right of a vassal to bequeath pro- perty by will was admitted, and fines for offences were not to be levied as the king 402 BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY. might desire, but according to the nature of the offence. (3) Generally to the nation the King granted the laws of Edward the Confessor, as altered by William I. He agreed to levy no " moneyage " which had not been paid in the Sa3ton king's time, and vendors and coiners of light money were to be severely punished. All military tenants were exempted from land taxes and burthens ; all fines due and pecuniary mulcts for murder before his accession were remitted. Henry also ordered the fullest reparation to be made for all his brother's former injustice. Such were the chief provisions of the charter of Henry I., which gave general satis- faction, except in the matter of the preserva- tion of the hunting forests, which the King determined 'to retain for his own use and indulgence. The marriage of Henry with Matilda of Scotland crowned the edifice of concession. But the barons did not approve of these concessions of the King and of the clauses directed against their irresponsibility. When Robert of Normandy landed to claim the English crown they held aloof; but the people thronged to the King's standard, and presented so formidable an array that the Normans feared to attack. When peace had been concluded, Henry revenged himself on his barons, and despoiled many of them, seizing all their possessions. By these and other means Henry gained the goodwill of the people, while he crushed the feudal barons and raised up another class of knights upon whom the ancient barons looked in scorn. Stephen and Henry II. confirmed the "" Scholar's " charter, and we find that the usurper particularly favoured the Church, to which he owed his exaltation; but Henry II., while transacting all the chief business of the nation with the help of a legislative council, took care to retain his own authority. The Constitutions of Clarendon (sixteen in all) were the outcome of the controversy between Becket and the King respecting the treatment •of offending clerics, and the latter made great complaint of the extortions of the Ecclesias- tical Courts. The Constitutions " concern questions of advowson and presentation to churches in the King's gift, the trial of clerks, the security to be taken of the excommu- nicated, the trial of laymen for spiritual offences, the excommunication of tenants in chief, the license of the clergy to go abroad, ecclesiastical appeals, which were not to go farther than the archbishop without the consent of the king, questions of title to ecclesiastical estates, baronial duties of prelates, the election to bishoprics, the right of the king to the goods of felons deposited under the protection of the Church." These provisions led to the exile of Becket. The Assize of Clarendon, which has been regarded as a re-enactment of the " Constitutions," was afterwards arranged. The Assize contained twenty-two articles respecting the presentment of criminals and the mode of trial by jury. "Twelve lawful men from each hundred, and four from each township, were sworn to present those who were known as criminals within their district for trial by ordeal." Another article enacted that " no stranger might abide in any place save a borough, and only there for a single night, unless sureties were given for his good behaviour." The Assize of Northampton, issued in 1 176, was intended as a code of instructions for the itinerant justices, as the Assize of Claren- don had been. It referred to the infliction of punishments on felons and rebels, and the demolishment of certain forfeited strong- holds. The country was divided into six circuits for the purpose. These various charters or enactments were all very important, not only to the English constitution, but as the beginning of the legal forms and usages now so beneficial. Judicial and financial progress was steadily made, for Henry II. was certainly a legislator of much talent, and one of the greatest politi- cians of the time. King John and the Barons. We have already briefly noticed the steps by which John made himself so thoroughly obnoxious to the English people, who had, during the preceding reign, acknowledged the law of the land. All classes, from the barons downwards, had become accustomed to regard the law, instead of the dictates of the King, who was so long absent ; and thus a respect for the constitutional enactments superseded the doctrine of might. Normans and English were already becoming an united people when John ascended the British throne. Lord Chatham once said that the " Bible of the EngHsh Constitution" might be summed up in Magna Charta, the Petition of Right, and the Bill of Rights, and it is with the first of these three chapters that we have now to do. " The Great Charter," says Stubbs in his Constitutional History, "is the first great public act of the nation after it has realized its own identity, the consum- mation of the work for which, unconsciously, kings, prelates, and lawyers have been labouring for a century. . . . It is in one view the summing up of a period of national life ; in another, the starting-point of a new and not less eventful period than that which it closes." John's manners and scandalous irregulari- ties in every way had completely disgusted the English people; and when he surrendered 403 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. himself as the vassal of the Pope, public opinion condemned him, althougti he was certainly supported by some of the barons. The King was a vassal, and when the barons failed to gain their demands from him, they appealed to the Pope, on the ground that had it not been for their influence, the King would never have consented to become Innocent's vassal. They refused to go abroad when summoned by the King, for he hadmade himself so thoroughly despicable and despotic that they dechned his authority. The northern barons openly defied the King ; and these were the families who had, as already remarked, been raised up to baronial dignity by Henry. They were not all Normans ; many were English, and men who had close sympathies with their adherents, not feudal lords who cared only for their own aggrandizement. " They had been trained under the eye of Glanville and Richard de Lucy, and had been uniformly faithful to the King against the greater feudatories. . . . They were the forefathers of the great north-country party which fought the battle of the constitution during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries." * John had ascended the English throne monarch of a mighty empire. Within a few years he had been stripped of all his foreign possessions, and Normandy was lost, and then he was obliged to turn all his attention to his limited realm. So with the barons, who "gradually came to regard England as their country, and Englishmen as their countrymen. The two races, so long hostile, soon found they had common in- terests and common enemies. The great- grandsons of those who had fought under William, and the great-grandsons of those who had fought under Harold, began to draw near each other in friendship, and the first pledge of reconciliation was the (Jreat Charter." t Conference of the Barons. While John was sailing to Jersey, the barons, under the presidency of FitzPeter the Justiciary, met at St. Alban's on the 4th of August, 12 1 3. This meeting had for its object an inquiry into the amount due to the plundered spiritual lords, and was attended by representatives from the townships as well as by the prelates. The discussion of the compensation, however, was not the only one introduced ; indeed, it was only the ostensible cause of the council or con- ference. FitzPeter and Archbishop Langton took a speedy occasion to put before the assembly the results of the misrule to which they had been subjected. Stubbs. f Macaulay. The resolutions at which the conference arrived were soon put forth by the Justiciary as a royal proclamation, by which the charter of Henry I. was ordered to be obeyed ; and pronounced capital punish- ment upon those who should exceed their duty, "whether sheriff's, foresters, or officers of the king." Here we have Henry's charter brought forward as the basis of English liberties; and the composition of the council, containing as it did the representatives of the people, seems to point to that occasion as the first recorded instance of a national assembl}-. If any ignorance existed in the minds of individuals as to the specific con- ditions of Henry's charter, Langton quickly supplied the information. On the 25th of August another council was summoned at St. Paul's in London ; and on this occasion the charter of Henry I. was actually produced, and comments were made upon it. The enthusiasm of the barons was aroused, and an oath was administered to them by which they agreed to die, if neces- sary, in defence of their liberties. John had meantime arrived in England ; and hearing what had occurred at St. Alban's, he swore to punish the "traitors." He advanced to Northampton with his usual headlong im- petuosity ; but there the Archbishop over- took him, and begged him to reconsider his determination, and to proceed in a more judicial fashion. This was in September 1213. In October the Justiciary laid the claims of the barons before the King ; and soon afterwards was taken ill and died. " Now," exclaimed John, "I am for the first time king and lord of England," — a most un- gracious speech ; for had it not been for FitzPeter, the violence of the people would have broken out against the King, who was only shielded by his trusty justiciary. The Pope finally was appealed to, and he sup- ported John his vassal, and nothing of any great importance succeeded during the re- mainder of the year 12 13, except the fore- shadowing of parliament by the assembling by the King's writ of the council at Oxford. In 1 2 14, John went abroad. The barons as- sembled at Bury St. Edmunds under pretext of pilgrimage ; and there they entered into a league, and made a solemn oath that if the King would not relieve their grievances, they would withdraw their fealty and allegiance, and make war upon him until by sealed charter he should confirm the privileges they sought,* — the laws and liberties of the people. * " Ipsi ei guerram tamdiu moverent ut ab ejus fidelitate se subtraherent donee eis per cartam sigillo suo munitam confirmarcnt omnia qasg pete- bant." — Paris. 404 BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY. Holingshed calls this a '■ cloked pilgrim- age/'' in which, "at the abbey of Burie, they uttered their complaint of the King's tyran- nical manners." "The chief cause that moved the lords to this conspiracy," con- tinues our old chronicler, " rose by reason the King demanded scutage of them that refused to go with him to Poictou ; and they, on the other hand, maintained that they were not bound to pay it. . . . Finally, it was determined that shortly after Christmas they should go to the King, and require of him that they might have those laws restored which he had promised to them." The King did not return until October, when he concluded an ignominious peace with Philip of France. At Christmas-time he went to Worcester, but eventually hur- ried to London, and shut himself up in the Temple, where, on the 6th of January, on the Feast of the Epiphany, the barons assembled to present to him their demands. The King at first attempted to "ride the high horse," and endeavoured to insist upon the barons withdrawing their claims, and one or two even consented. But the majority decidedly refused ; and then John temporized, pro- mising to give an answer at Easter ; and he used this interval to the greatest advantage in endeavouring to explode the conspiracy by concessions, and to break up the con- federation of the barons. " You must grant me time till Easter, that with due delibera- tion I may be able to do justice to myself, and satisfy the dignity of the crown." Many of the barons knew quite well from experience the use which the perfidious and crafty King would make of the time allotted to him ; but when Langton and the Earl of Pembroke consented to be surety that the King would redeem his promises, the barons agreed to the respite, and retired until the great festival time should call them forth again. The King immediately cast about to revenge himself, and adopted a measure which he believed would serve his turn. His first efforts were directed to the conciliation of the Church, in whose favour he at once renounced certain privileges, one of which he had formerly strongly insisted upon, viz., the election of bishops and abbots. By this concession he fancied he could win the clergy to his side ; and then he turned to the populace. If he could only succeed in gaining the people and the clergy, the barons would have no chance with him, so the subtle monarch ordered his sheriff to assemble the freemen, and tender them a new oath of allegiance ; and then as a checkmate he complained to the Pope of the conduct of his vassals the barons, who also sent a messenger to Inno- cent ; but the Pope soon made it evident in his reply to Archbishop Langton that he considered John was right ; and Innocent hoped by these means to stifle the agitation. But the thunders ofthe Church were unnoticed under the circumstances. Langton took no heed of the Pope's letter; and then John^ putting himself under the protection of the Cross, fancied his person and possessions were secure under its shadow. Easter arrived, and the barons assembled in great array at Stamford. The King was at Oxford. From Stamiford the malcontents marched to Brackley, near the University city, where they met a deputation from King John, Langton being at the head of it. The barons at once handed to the deputa- tion the parchment containing the details of the privileges they desired. " These are our claims," they said, "and if they are not instantly granted our arms shall do us justice." Langton with the others withdrew, and put the proposal of the barons before the King. John flew into a terrible rage when he had perused the conditions, and swore his favourite oath that he would not grant them. " And why do not they demand my crown also?" he 'cried in a fury. " I will not grant them liberties which will make me a slave." But he imme- diately endeavoured to win the opposite side by vague concessions and evasive offers, while Pandulph, the legate or nuncio, wished the barons to be excommunicated eii masse. But this friendly suggestion Cardinal Lang- ton declined to carry out ; and the barons appealed to arms, proclaiming themselves " the army of God and ofthe Holy Church." They disclaimed all allegiance to the King at Wallingford, and were absolved from their allegiance. Robert FitzWalter was chosen as their commander, and the discontented bands marched to attack Northampton castle. Robert FitzWalter was a very powerful noble, and lord of Baynard's castle. His daughter had been wooed dishonourably by the King, whose advances the maiden, called Maude the Fair, had contemptuously repelled. When the lady died — which she did soon after her refusal of the King's attentions — there were not wanting reports to the effect that John had caused her to be poisoned for the rejec- tion of his suit. Under such circumstances did the King stir up the wrath and indigna- tion of the nobles. His despotism and lust were unbridled. Yet with all this he had " a strange gift of attracting friends and of win- ning the love of women." The barons met with no success at Nor- thampton, and after a vain attempt to subdue the castle they quitted it for Bedford, where the governor was one of their own order. Here they were received; and as they were in consultation, a deputation was received from ' London. The malconients immediately set 403 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. out ; and continuing their march all through the summer night, the barons reached London early on the morning of Sunday the 24th of May, when they found the gates open and a majority of the inhabitants at church. Everything had gone well. The barons entered London by Aldgate unmolested and quite unknown to the royalists. The incomers at once took possession of the gates before the Court in the Tower were aware of their coming ; and when they had full possession of the city they began to massacre the Jews. John was in the Tower of London and greatly chosen by the barons not because it was so convenient for the King at Windsor, but because it was an usual place for conferences to be holden. The spot is now familiar to all who travel on the Thames, and Magna Charta Island is an extremely picturesque bit of scenery viewed from the Berkshire shore. On that day, the 15th of June, 121 5, it wore a very different aspect. From Windsor came the King with his sadly re- duced retinue across the royal park to the Thames bank, and opposite could be per- ceived a great crowd of knights in chain Magna Charta Island. alarmed. The Earl of Pembroke offered to go as mediator, and the King sent a message saying he was prepared to grant all their demands. Let them appoint a time and place for a conference. The nobles went, and Fitz Walter's reply was concise and to the point : " We appoint the 15th of June and for the place Runy- mede." The Tryst at Runymede. Runymede * on the Thames was the spot * The Runing or Running Mede, as some say. Races were once held there, and meetings were armour, accompanied by pages bearing their shields. Mitred bishops and holy abbots, crowned king and regal state mingled with helm and spear and shield to keep the tryst at Runymede on the 15th of June. Beyond the intervening trees stood Windsor Castle on its height, while Cooper Hill rose close by, and the chalk downs of Bucks in the distance over the forest. Boats and barges, citizens and soldiers, men, women, and children, came out from Staines and London to behold the sisjht — a memorable one indeed frequently appointed at the spot, hence the Anglo- Saxon Rune-Mead. 406 BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY, — which was to be seen on the Rune-Mead or Council Meadow, bounded by the silver i Thames. "Here was that Charter sealed, wherein the Crown I All marks of arbitrary power laid down ; i Tyrant and slave, those names of hate and fear, The happier style of king and subject bear ; Happy when both to the same centre move. When kings give Uberty and subjects love." Tuesday in Whitsun week, the 9th of June, had been the day originally suggested by the King for the meeting with the barons. He came up fromOdiham to Merton for the pur- pose, and granted " sure conduct " to the re- bellious vassals. But circumstances deferred the assembly until the following Monday, the 15th, when John had proceeded to Windsor. This was "Trinity Monday;" and on that day the barons with their attendants, and accompanied by a numerous concourse of citizens, arrived at the Council Meadow. The opposing bands encamped separately ; and, according to Sir William Blackstone, the conference lasted several days. The con- trast between the retinue of the King and the numbers of his enemies must have been sufficient to prove to John that his despotic power had come to an end. These were no mere suppliants ; they had come to demand concessions, and were, moreover, in a position to enforce their demands. On one bank of the Thames the small array of force — about seventy adherents — surrounded the King. In the meadows opposite, on the Surrey side, were the armed host of the disaffected. Between them lay a small island or islet, which was destined to be known for all time as the Magna Charta eyot. Preliminaries were entered into, and the serious business of the hour was gradually led up to by unmeaning discussion. The King knew he had no escape ; the barons, with the populace, were equally aware of it ; and after some fencing the articles were drawn up, to be afterwards embodied in the form of a charter. To these articles the King affixed his signature, the Royal Seal ; and Magna Charta, the Great Charter of English liberties, was an accomplished fact. During all the transactions the wily monarch had fully borne out his character for dissimulation. His manner, always good, was studiously polite and even cheerful. He conversed freely with the barons ; he made voluntary promises, and agreed to the pro- mulgation of the articles with apparent good- will and readiness. But when he returned { to Windsor and the assembly had dissolved, • when the deed had been done, and only the j remembrance of his unlimited power re- i mained to him, he behaved like a madman. His rage is described as awful. He cursed the day he was born, rolled about wildly, gnashed his teeth, tore sticks in his mouth, and really appeared for the time possessed with an evil spirit. But his few friends begged him to keep quiet, and rather to seek his revenge than to indulge in such useless passions. He took their advice, and sent to secure mercenaries and the interposition of the Pope. The barons left Runymede triumphantly, and proceeded to Stamford, where they learnt that the King had eluded the restoration of their lands, and after some interviews and protestations war was declared between the King and his barons. The Great Charter. The original of Magna Charta, though in a mutilated condition, is still in existence in the National Museum. It will be sufficient for us to comment upon the principal clauses, with passing reference to the state of things at the time which gave rise to the articles in the charter, and which called so loudly for remedy. The privileges were granted by the King on the understanding that he thereby secured the adherence of all estates in the realm. The articles were "written upon parchment," says Sir William Blackstone in his introductory preface to the Charters, "ten inches and three quarters broad, and twenty- one and a half in length, including the fold for receiving the label." The King's seal is affixed. There was also an agree- ment delivering the custody of the city and Tower of London to the barons till the charter was carried into execution. The Great Charter contains sixty-three clauses in ad- dition to the preamble, and its first clause declares the freedom of the EngHsh Church, We can now examine, by the help of the various ancient and modern authorities at hand, the amount of the liberties granted by the Charter, and those, for convenience' sake, may be divided into four separate groups or classes : — (i) We have, in the first place, certain privileges granted to the clergy and the Church. (2) Secondly, there are concessions made to the barons and other nobles " who held of the King, in capites C3) We have the clauses more directly applying to the citizens, merchants, and others in the cities and towns of the king- dom, for the encouragement and benefit of trade. (4) The liberties of the freedmen. In the above summary the lower classes, such as the serfs and vassals of the lords, are not distinctly mentioned, and it does not appear that the barons and their friends troubled themselves much concerning the poor "villeins " who were not free, as against 407 EPOCHS AAD EPISODES OF HISTORY. the lords, though so regarded amongst their own peers. Lee us look at the first group of clauses, which, as will be readily surmised, were supervised by Archbishop Langton and his ecclesiastical friends, upon whose prede- cessors — or some of them — the Constitutions of Clarendon had pressed very heavily, and with whom they had become a byword and a reproach. But we do not find very much in the Great Charter concerning the Church. " The first article declares the Church shall be free, and have her rights entire, and her liberties unhurt;" and by this the clergy were free to choose their superiors, bishops and abbots. The twenty-second article also is favourable to the Church, respecting "amercement," which shall not be according to the quantity of his ecclesiastical benefice, but according to his lay tenement ; in other words, he shall be treated as a layman, and being without lay property, is practically exempted. The forty-second article permitted free travel of the clergy, a privilege withdrawn by the Constitutions of Clarendon, for the clause allowed "anyone except prisoners, outlaws, or enemies, to leave the kingdom and return to it, by land or by water." The greater portion of the advantages were gained by the barons. The clergy, having made themselves much feared, and having gained much influence, did not want so much redress as the nobles at feud with the King. So we find many articles devoted to their interests in the Charter. Though the Church took precedence, we perceive the barons well up in the second article, by which the heir, if of age, shall pay only the "ancient relief" ("from the King's wardship) ; and this clause requires some little explanation. When an heir was a minor, the King acted as his guardian, and we may not doubt made great profit of him during the minority; and even after he had thus plundered the estate, the King demanded a sum as a relief, and this was very uncertain and arbitrary. Article II. of the Charter fixed the sums formerly paid — for an earl or baron, ^loo; for a knight, loos. ; and so on in proportion. But Article III. declared "a minor who is in ward shall have his inheritance free." Often besides the robbery of funds, the estates were neglected, and in many cases went to "rack and ruin" because they were not kept up during the minority ; and Articles IV. and V. refer to this abuse and provide for its removal. The disposal of the heirs in marriage, unless they paid to get off, was also a great hardship at that time and formerly. So the barons took care to insert a clause in their Charter to protect themselves according to Henry the First's Charter, referring to the marriage of heiresses. They accordingly provided in Article VI. that "heirs shall be married without disparagement, their near blood rela- tions having notice beforehand." In those "good old times," heiresses as well as widows were greatly oppressed, and many cases could be quoted in which ladies were obliged to pay for their money and marriage. The Countess of Warwick and the Countess of Chester are two instances in which Maud and Lucia respectively paid seven hundred marks (^7,000) and five hundred marks (^5,000) to be permitted to marry whom they pleased, and not within a fixed time. The barons took care of the widows in the seventh and eighth articles of Magna Charta, by which " they were to receive their inheritance freely, and not be forced to re-marry" in any station of life. This applied to feudal lords as well as to the king. By the twelfth and fifteenth articles the levying of scutage or aids were specially limited to the ransoming of the king's person, making his eldest son a knight, and once for marrying his eldest daughter ; and the king shall not empower mesne lords to exact other than the ordinary aids to ransom the lord's person, to knight his eldest son, and once to marry his eldest daughter ; and these of reasonalale amount." There were also some general clauses respecting the military vassals of the Crown, who were relieved from certain exactions hitherto levied upon them, and the Feudal System was modified. We now come to the third series of articles, those affecting the merchants and laity. We find in the thirteenth article of the Charter that "the city of London shall have all its ancient liberties and its free customs, as well by land as by water. Besides we will and grant that all other cities, and towns, and burghs, and seaports, shall have all their liberties and free customs." The twenty-third and thirty-third clauses deal with the ques- tions of bridge-building and of weirs, as regards the freedom of navigation ; and the Londoners had the decision of the weights and measures put into their hands by Article XXXV., while another clause made it illegal for Christians to lend money on usury. So money-lending fell into Jewish hands, though it was enacted that no Jew should be paid interest during the debtor's minority. Merchants, whether of native extraction or of foreign growth, were permitted to come and go ; and Article XLl. put the case very clearly. Previously foreign merchants had been much distressed by fines and personal restrictions, and their goods liable to be seized during war. But the trade influence of England was now making itself felt ; the nation of shopkeepers was born, and cried. So the barons, albeit careless of merchants, could not evade the Londoners' demand. " All merchants shall be safe and secure in 408 BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. coming into England and going out of England, and staying and travelling through England, as well by land as by water, to buy and to sell without any unjust exactions, according to ancient rights and customs, except in time of war," when reciprocal courtesy would be extended according to the treatment received by British traders in other countries. In other articles, the King resigned his arbitrary power, and it was enacted that " no freedman be apprehended or outlawed or in any other way destroyed, nor will we go upon him, except by legal judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land." This was a very important clause, and it was supplemented by another, viz., "To no man will we sell, to no man will we deny or delay right or justice." The proper appointment of com- petent legal officers was also provided for, and provision was also made for further protection of life by the limitation of the power of inflicting capital punishment. The Courts of Common Pleas were to be sta- tionary. Fines were limited according to the degree of the offence, and "not above measure;" and certain personal property could not be amerced. The property of the people was defended from unjust exaction, nor were any animals to be taken by a bailiff without the owner's consent. There are many other clauses, but we have enumerated the chief. The sixtieth article is significant, viz. : — " But all these aforesaid customs and liber- ties which we have granted in our kingdom, to be held by our tenants, as far as concerns us, all our clergy and laity shall observe towards their tenants as far as concerns them." This clause was probably inserted by John himself. Twenty-five barons were elected to enforce the charter, and if the King refused to do justice as required by any four of their num- ber, the barons were empowered to make war against the King and his possessions, saving his wife and children. The Welsh and Scotch were also granted certain concessions; but the twelfth, thir- teenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth articles were perhaps the most important of all, containing as they do the clear definition of taxation. These refer to the scutage or aid already mentioned, and the liberty accorded to the cities. The fourteenth clause declares a Common Council is to be assembled for the purpose of assessing a scutage or aid ; and when the members so assembled shall decide, they may be accepted as acting for the whole body summoned. This is really the germ of parliamentary voting of supplies. The fif- teenth article has been already mentioned. The Forest clauses of the Charter were after- wards enlarged and embodied in a separate instrument called the Carta de Foresta. As we have said, great precautions were taken by the barons to bind the crafty King to his deed. The Tower of London was handed over to the barons, and all mercenaries were dismissed ; but the King managed to evade all the safeguards of the lords, and a very long and severe struggle ushered in the true enjoyment of the Great Charter. Henry III. renewed Magna Charta and the subsequent Forest Charter, a grant of a fifteenth of all movables being demanded as the King's price for the Act ; and in its altered — very slightly altered — form, Edward I. con- firmed Magna Charta ; and so, for a con- sideration, which the people were always ready to pay, it was confirmed many times by successive Kings to Henry VI., no less than fourteen times by Edward III., and frequently by Henry III., Richard II., and Henry IV.,* — thirty-seven times in all. The Petition of Right. It is impossible within the limits at our disposal to trace the rise and history of the Parliamentary government of England. Our business is with the Charters only, but, as we all remember, the successive assem- blies had been in constant conflict with the monarchs of England at various times, and many checks had been put upon the royal authority. In Hallam, the student will find the results of the measures and the Acts passed in despite of the King's remonstrances, and will, from the following extract, be able to judge how the subject was gaining in the struggle. The writer of the Constitutional History thus briefly sums up the facts, and shows the power of Parliament : — " The King could levy no sort of new tax upon the people except by grant of the par- liament, consisting as well of bishops and mitred abbots, or lords spiritual, and of hereditary peers, or temporal lords, who sat and voted in the same chamber, as of repre- sentatives from each county, and from the burgesses of many towns and less conside- rable places forming the Lower or Commons' House. " The previous assent and authority of the same assembly were necessary for every new law, whether of a general or temporary nature. No man could be committed to prison but by a legal warrant specifying his offence, and by a usuage nearly tantamount to constitutional right, he must be speedily brought to trial by means of regular sessions of gaol-delivery. The fact of guilt or inno- cence in a criminal charge was determined in a public court, and in the county where the * See also ' ' Constitutional History ' Langmeed). (Taswell- 4TO BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY. offence was alleged to have occurred, by a jury of twelve men, from whose unanimous verdict no appeal could be made. " Civil rights, so far as they depended on questions of fact, were subject to tiie same decision. " The officers and servants of the Crown violating the personal liberty or other right of the subject, might be sued in an action for damages to be assessed by a jury, or in some cases were liable to criminal process ; nor could they plead any warrant or command in their justification, nor even the direct order of the King. The King's Ministers were liable to be impeached by the Com- mons for misgovernment, and the general privileges of the nation were far more secure than those of private men, though there was little effective restraint upon the Government except in the matters of levying money and enacting laws." James I. could not agree with his parlia- ment from the very outset. He had strong notions concerning the divine rights of kings, and many conflicts arose; the Commons insisted upon their full rights and drew up a protest of them which was entitled, "A form of apology and satisfaction," in which they claimed as rights the privileges they enjoyed, and that " they cannot be withheld, denied, or impaired." The protest is long, and will be found in extenso in parUamentary history. The Commons asked nothing but that to which they were entitled; but still, as a writer remarks, they managed to show that " the King, the Council, the House of Lords, the Bishops, and Puritans, were no less emphatically in the wrong." So the King and Commons remained, if not at " daggers drawn," at any rate on the defensive till his death ; and Charles I, came to the throne imbued with all the divine- right ideas of his father, in March 1625. He was in want of money, and threatened the Commons if they did not grant it. " I wish you would hasten my supply, or else it will be worse for yourselves," was scarcely the tone to adopt with the House which was more than ever determined to stand upon its rights. We now come to the commencement of that period of English historj- which culmi- nated in Charles's death and parliamentary sovereignty. The King's reply called forth an answer from the Commons, and though they granted him the subsidies, they in set terms asserted their rights and privileges in the matter of supply, and in the case of Buckingham's impeachment as well. In fact, while granting the King's request as to money, they reminded him sharply that he could not do as he pleased. We need not trace the fortunes of Bucking- ham, nor the injudicious conduct of the King in forcing loans and putting in prison those who refused to lend. War was forced upon France; and when Charles opened parliament in 1627, he used very threatening language towards the House; but it was not at all alarmed. " We have come together," said Wentworth, " firmly determined to vindicate our ancient vital liberties, by reinforcing our ancient laws made by our ancestors ; " and a Committee set forth their grievances respect- ing " liberty of the subject in person and estate." These were in chief : — (i) The forced loans. (2) Arbitrary imprisonment. (3) Billeting of soldiers on private persons. (4) Infliction of punishment by martial law. The Commons also passed four important resolutions without a dissenting voice : — (i) That no free man ought to be restrained or imprisoned unless some lawful cause of such restraint or imprisonment be expressed. (2) That the writ of Habeas Corpus ought to be granted to every man imprisoned or restrained, though it be at the command of the King or of the Privy Council, if he pay for the same. (3) That when the return expresses no cause of commitment or restraint, the party ought to be delivered or bailed. (4) That it is the ancient and undoubted right of every free man that he hath a full and absolute property in his goods and estate, and that no tax, loan, or benevolence ought to be levied by the king or his ministers without common consent by Act of Parlia- ment. These resolutions were discussed between the King and Parliament, and the arbitrary clauses were argued by counsel on both sides for several days. The King pledged his royal word not to arrest any person without good cause. But this offer was not accepted by Sir E. Coke. He took his stand upon the letter of the law and Magna Charta. "The King," said he, "must speak by record and in particulars, and not in general. Let us put up a Petition of Right ; not that I distrust the King, but I cannot take his trust save in a parliamentary way." The House of Commons then set them- selves to draw up the Petition of Right in spite of the amendments or additions pro- posed by the House of Lords. In the Par- liamentary History (vol. ii.) the speeches will be found in full. The Lords wished to in- clude the terms, "sovereign power." "We humbly present this petition," they said, " not only with a care of preserving our own liberties, but with due regard to leave entire the sovereign power wherewith Your Majesty is trusted for the protection, safety, and hap- piness of your people." But the Commons would have no such terms. "'Sovereign 4.11 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. power ' is no parliamentary word," said Sir Edward Coke. "What is 'sovereign power'?" asked Mr. Alford. "Bodin saith it is free from any conditions. . . Let us give that to the King- which the law allows him, and no more." " I know how to add sovereign to to the King's person," said Pym, "but not to his power. We cannot leave to him a ^ sovereign power,' for we were never pos- sessed of it." Sir E. Coke declared that Magna Charta would not admit of such a term : " Magna Charta is such a fellow he will have no sovereign. I wonder this sovereign was not in Magna Charta or in the confirmations of it." The conditions of the Petition of Right are as follows. After enumerating the various Acts by which certain abuses were forbidden by the statute of King Edward I., it is stated by the petition as follows — " Nevertheless against the tenor of the said statutes and other the good lawes and statutes of your realme to that end pro- vided." The articles declare that — (i) Freedmen had been compelled to lend money to the King, and upon their refusal so to do had been constrained to become bound and make appearance, and otherwise variously molested with imprisonment. (2) Several persons had been imprisoned, and when brought before the court by Writ of Habeas, yet were returned back to several prisons without being charged with anything to which they might make answer according to law. (3) That in divers counties of the realme soldiers and mariners have been billeted in the houses of the inhabitants against their wishes, to the great grievance and vexation of the people. (4) That divers commissioners have been appointed with authority to proceed within the land according to martial law, and punish offences which ought to have been punished by the civil courts, while some offenders have escaped the courts on the pretext that they were only amenable to martial law. The Petition of Right therefore protested against such irregular proceedings, and re- quested that they might never become established precedents, being contrary to the rights and liberties of the subject, and the laws and statutes of nations. The King, instead of contenting himself with the usual assent, returned a reply to the Petition, — assenting, indeed, but in a some- what equivocal way: "The Kingwilleth that right be done according to the laws and customs of the realm, and the statutes be put into due execution that his subjects may liave no cause to complain of any wrong or oppression contrary to their just rights and liberties, to the preservation whereof he holds himself as well obliged as of his prerogative." This answer did not content the Commons. Mr. Rushworth relates that when, on the 3rd of June, it was read to the House, " it seemed too scant," and the faithful Commons were much affected. " We must now speak, or for ever after hold our peace," said Sir N. Rich. " For us to be silent when King and kingdom are in this calamity is not fit." The House then resolved itself into a Com- mittee to consider what is fit to be done for the safety of the kingdom, and that "no man go out upon pain of being sent to the Tower." The Speaker, however, was permitted to leave ; and he immediately hastened to the King, and returned just as the Duke of Buckingham's reputation was being severely discussed, with a message adjourning the House until the following day. At the next meeting the Commons united with the Lords, and desired a more definite answer from the King, who when they ad- dressed him, replied, "That he would please to give a clean and satisfactory answer in full parliament to the Petition." Charles came at four o'clock to the House of Lords ; and in compliance with the request of the House, stated his wiUingness to pleasure them in words as in substance. The former answer was cut out, and the wished-for reply, " Soit droit fait comme il est desire," was given to the Petition. The Commons there- upon "gave a great and joyful applause;" and, to prove their gratitude, granted five subsidies to the King. By this assent as to a Bill, the Petition of Right became virtually an Act of Parliament ; and thus " the second great compact between the Crown and the nation" was ratified. The Revolution. On the morning of December i8th, 1688, James 1 1., surrounded by the boats contain- ing the soldiers of the Prince of Orange, quitted Whitehall stairs for Rochester. William of Orange was loudly greeted as he entered London ; and soon afterwards the most influential people, and many former members of the House of Commons of Charles XL, sent up a petition to His Majesty to summon a Convention Parlia- ment. This assembly met on the 22nd January, 1688-9 ; and on the 28th the House passed several resolutions of an important character. These were — (i) Resolved that King James XL, having endeavoured to subvert the constitution of the kingdom by breaking the original con- tract between king and people, and by the advice of Jesuits and other wicked persons having violated the fundamental laws, and having withdrawn himself out of this king- 412 BRFTISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY dom, has abdicated the government, and that the throne is thereby vacant. And next day a further resolution was carried, viz, : — (2) That it hath been found by experience inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this Protestant kingdom to be governed by a popish prince. These two resolutions were not accepted entirely by the Lords ; and though they agreed to the second, the former was modi- fied. They proposed an amendment to the word "abdicated," and a long debate ensued in the Commons. A regency was suggested during the life of James to administer the government ; but William of Orange had come over to be a king, and gave the House to understand, and plainly, too, that nothing short of tliat dignity would he receive. If the Estates offered him the crown he would accept it ; and he thought it reasonable that the Lady Anne and her posterity might be preferred in the succession to any children whom he might have by any other wife than the Princess Mary.* The question was then referred to the House of Lords, and a conference with the Commons arranged that the Prince and Princess of Orange should be declared King and Queen of England. But the conditions were not yet settled ; and " the Commons wisely determined to postpone all reforms till the ancient constitution of the kingdom should have been restored in all its parts." The Act by which the succession was settled was decided " to set forth, in the most dis- tinct and solemn manner, the fundamental principles of the constitution," in order that the deed might be equally binding and advantageous to the rights of the king and people respectively. This instrument quickly embodied the clauses desired, and was termed the "Decla- ration of Rights." The Declaration of Rights. At about ten o'clock, a.m., on the 13th of February, the Speaker of the House of Commons, with the members, proceeded in state to Whitehall, where the Marquis of Halifax and the Lords awaited them. The Prince and Princess of Orange entered the banqueting-house, and then the Marquis, as Speaker of the Lords, acquainted their Royal Highnesses that Parliament had agreed upon a Declaration, and the document was read, after permission had been granted.f The Declaration of Rights is too long to quote /;/ extenso. It commenced by showing how James II. had endeavoured to extirpate * See Burnet's and Macaulay's Histories. t Parliamentary Plistory, vol. ii. the Protestant religion, and his arbitrary manner of suspending the laws and levying- taxes. Excessive fines and bails, and many other illegal practices and punishments had been carried out, and the Lords and Commons had therefore determined to assert them- selves and their claims to the liberty of their ancestors ; and they declared — (i) That the pretended power of suspend- ing of laws, or the execution of laws by regal authority without the consent of Parliament, is illegal. (2) That levying of money for or to the use of the Crown, by pretence of prerogative, without grant of Parliament, for longer time, or in any other manner in which the same is or shall be granted, is illegal. (3) That the raising or keeping of a stand- ing army within the kingdom in time of peace, unless it be with the consent of Par- liament, is against law. (4) That Protestant subjects may have arms for defence suitable to their condition, according to law. (5) That elections of Members of Parlia- ment ought to be free. (6) That freedom of speech and debates, or proceedings in parliament, ought not to be impeached or questioned out of parlia- ment. (7) No excessive fines or bail ought to be imposed or required, nor cruel or unusual punishments inflicted. (8) That jurors ought to be duly empan- nelled and returned, and jurors who pass judgment upon men in trials of high treason ought to be freeholders, with other enact- ments of less importance. The Declaration concluded with a resolu- tion that William and Mary, Prince and Princess of Orange, be declared King and Ou?en of England, France, and Ireland, and the dominions thereto belonging, for their lives and for the survivor of them, the King to possess sole administrative power, and after the death of both, failing heirs of the Queen's body, the crown to descend to Anne,, Princess of Denmark, and the heirs of her body, and in default thereof to the heirs ot the body of William of Orange. Respecting this instrument. Lord Macaulay says : " It finally decided the great question whether the popular element which had ever since the age of FitzWalter and Simon de Montfort been found in the English polity should be destroyed by the monarchical element, or should be suffered to develop itself freely, and to become dominant. The Declaration of Rights, though it made nothing law which had not been law before, con- tained the germ of every good law which has been passed during more than a century and a half, — of every good law which may hereafter, in the course of ages, be found 413 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. necessary to promote the public weal and to satisfy the demands of public opinion." In October 1689, the Declaration of Rights was embodied in an Act of Parliament called the "Bill of Rights." This Bill has been termed " The third great Charter of English liberty, the coping-stone of the constitutional building." * On the 1 6th of December, 1689, the Speaker made a speech to the King when presenting the Bill of Rights, when WiUiam attended in the House of Peers to give his consent to the "Land Tax Bill" and "The Bill of Rights and Succession." The Houses have, said the Speaker, "agreed upon a Bill for declaring of their rights and liberties which were so notoriously violated in the late reign, humbly desiring Your Majesty to give life to it by the royal assent, so that it may remain not only as a security to them from the like attempts hereafter, but be a lasting monument to all posterity of what they owe to Your Majesty for their deliverance." Thus we can perceive how the Parliament insisted upon and obtained its rights. The doctrines of James I., which had been in- culcated in his successor, the " divine rights of kings," were all swept away. Everything was then centred in the Parliament. Supplies and all control of expenditure were in the hands of the people's representatives ; and it was only by the will of the people, as ex- pressed in the Bill of Rights, that William and Mary, and Anne of Denmark, became sovereigns of England ; and similarly our own rulers depend upon the Acts of Parlia- ment. We have so far traced the history of the great constitutional charters, the three land- marks, so to speak, by which all legislative courses have been directed in subsequent years. The base had been established by Magna Charta, and the subsequent renewals of that structure, with legislative additions and mouldings, became in time the real pillar of the English law. Since the Bill of Rights we have had the Act of Settlement, which is characterized by Hallam in his Constitutional History as "the seal of our constitutional laws, the complement of the Revolution itself and the Bill of Rights, and the last great statute which restrains the power of the Crown." The Act of Settlement. The Act of Settlement is " an Act for the further limitation of the Crown and better securing the rights and liberties of the sub- ject," and exists still. It commences by lamenting the death of Queen Mary and her * Stubbs. son, the Duke of Gloucester, and goes on to declare that the most excellent Princess Sophia, the daughter of James I., be there- by declared to be the next in succession in the Protestant line after His Majesty and the Princess Anne of Denmark ; and in default of issue, the crown to go to and "continue to the said Princess Sophia, and the heirs of her body, being Protestants." By Section 3, for the "further security of our religion, laws, and liberties," it is enacted that the sovereign shall be in communion with the Church of England. That if the future sovereign be not a native of England the nation will not be obliged to go to war for the defence of any territory not belong- ing to the crown of England without the consent of Parliament. No sovereign shall leave the United Kingdom without the con- sent of Parliament (this was afterwards re- pealed). The Privy Council underwent change, and practically a Cabinet Council was substituted for it, for all resolutions respecting the well-governing of the kingdom were ordered to be taken by " such of the Privy Council as shall advise and consent to the same." The appointments as privy councillors were limited to natives of the United King- dom or of English parents, and so ehgible for parliament or any office of trust. No person holding office of profit under the King was to be capable of serving in the House of Commons. No pardon under the Great Seal could be pleadable to an impeachment by the Commons in parliament. Some of these provisions were afterwards repealed, such as the prohibition of travel of the sovereign without consent of parliament, the non-eligibility of members to hold offices of profit, and the Cabinet Council clause ; but the lastnamed Council revived again as the " Ministry " ; and during the long absences of the first Georges really governed the kingdom, as a " Ministry," or executive committee of Lords and Commons, does now ; such members of it as are Cabinet Councillors being the real promoters of the business of the country and the Government. The result of the Act of Settlement and Bill of Rights may be summed up in a few words. Practically these measures took the power from the sovereign and gave it to parliament. The necessity for voting annual supplies, and renewing the Mutiny Act, and passing the estimates generally, gives the Commons supreme control. The real power is in their hands, and parliament, by the voice of the electors, is supreme. This power became gradually understood; and as time passed, the people wanted a voice in the administration. The sovereign's influence was once very great (witness George III.), but since his death it has declined to a certain extent, and is seldom exercised. 414 BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY. Modern Measures. We must pass hastily over the Reform Bills of 1 832 and 1837, which were scarcely charters, but the advantages gained by the people in more extended suffrage by the former, led up to riotous consequences, and the demand for a People's Charter, the provisions of which were not altogether new. They had been brought before Parliament in 1780. The Lords were at first opposed to the Reform Bill, but it was eventually carried. The "working" classes, as they are termed, that is the artizans, got little benefit by it, though the middle classes were represented. Dis- appointment not unnaturally ensued, and the lower classes wished to insist upon more reform. They became Chartists. Chartism, says Mr. McCarthy, " may be said to have sprung definitively into existence in conse- quence of the formal declaration of the leaders of the Liberal party in parliament that they did not intend to push reform any farther." The working man fancied he had been thrust out into the cold, and was deter- mined to let his influence be felt. A People's Charter was accordingly drawn up according to O'Connell's advice. But the question had been tried in the House imme- diately parliament met. An amendment was moved to the Address in favour of the Ballot, but only twenty voted for it, and the Govern- ment declined to proceed farther upon the path of reform. It was not long before the measure took definite shape, and the Charter was supported by thousands who objected to physical force, and by hundreds of thousands who believed in it. The Chartists' Riots. The Chartists, as they called themselves, demanded more power and a more potent voice in the affairs of state under the guise of the Peoples' Charter. The points enu- merated in the Charter were six in liumber, viz. : — (i) Universal Suffrage, (2) Vote by Ballot, (3) Annual Parliaments, (4) Payment of Members, (5) Abolition of Property quali- fication, and (6) Equal Electoral Districts. After the Reform Act of 1 832 had passed, the disturbance was initiated, and first showed symptoms of terrorism in 1838, when the Welsh Chartists, after some seasons of depression and indifferent harvests, felt the hard hand of famine. When work got scarcer and food dearer, the unreflecting portion of the community, ascribing all their troubles to the Government, began to agitate for a more equal share in the administration. Some six Members of Parliament, and an equal number of " working-men," as they called themselves, met and drew up the Charter. The result, when promulgated, was re- ceived with acclamation everywhere, and the popular opinion, already red-hot, was diligently fanned with fiery orations by plat- form windbags ; and as a consequence of this, "brute force" was threatened to back up the demands of the people. Then the Chartist riots commenced, but were put down at once, and the leaders imprisoned. A Con- vention — termed "National" — was elected, and Birmingham, as thehot-bed of Radicalism, was chosen as the scene of the first meeting in May 1839. The suggestions put forth to the people were sufficiently subversive. Uni- versal cessation from labour was one of the means whereby the Government was to be coerced ; exclusive dealing and a run on the savings banks v.'ere other ways by which the Chartists hoped to gain their ends. Their arrangements led them, however, into a riot, the military being called out ; and ex- cesses subsequently were frequently com- mitted. The petition presented to the House of Commons was not favourably received ; and the year 1839 closed with rioting in Wales, Newport being particularly distin- guished in this way. The flame of discontent smouldered still. In 1842 more riots occurred in various dis- tricts, and a Joseph Sturge came to the front, but did not succeed in uniting the people in a " Suffrage Union," as he hoped to do. The climax of Chartism occurred in 184S, when measures were taken by the Duke of Wellington to act with vigour on the least sign of violence on the part of the mob. The circumstances of that time must be fresh in the minds of nearly all readers. The enrolment of special constables and the military preparations were on a most exten- sive scale. The great Chartist meeting was on Kennington Common, and^thousands were to march to Westminster and demand their rights. They didn't ! There was considerable danger imminent, and those in London at the time will remem- ber the excitement that pervaded all classes. Some two hundred thousand constables had been sworn in; and John Leech, in the pages of Punch, made merry at the expense of some of these " specials " when danger was over. The principles of the Chartist were that, as an individual, he had an equal right to vote and to partake in the administration of the law, and as he paid taxes he had a right to representation in parliament. These were what may be termed the moderate section ; others went far beyond this, and desired to initiate an entirely new state of things ; in fact, tended to Communism. No doubt these latter doctrines had weight with uneducated people, but a very slight examina- tion showed that the claims could not be recognised in the form proposed. 41S EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. The Kennington Scare. When Louis Philippe had been deposed and revolution was stalking over the Con- tinent, the Chartists, with Fergus O'Connor at their head, imagined that it was a good time to intimidate the Government. The Conven- tion sat in London, and wanted to resort to force. The people must be represented ; and finally these unruly spirits, though probably many acted in good faith and sincere con- viction, declared that a Republic or a Charter must be granted, and parhament ought to be petitioned. A monster meeting was convened, and the huge procession was to be organized upon Kennington Common. The Government was to be overawed, and the legislature coerced by this display of force. On April loth the people assembled, though the meeting had been proclaimed unlawful ; and fortunately Fergus O'Connor had restricted the carriage of arms else the result might have been different. This resolve disgusted the "brute force " section, and numbers left the meeting or never united with it. About twenty-five thousand people came, about half were spectators ; and after some speeches the pro- cession was abandoned. The preparations everywhere in London, though scarcely any soldiers were visible, had been so complete that any attempt at violence would have been at once severely checked. This effort v/as an utter failure. The petition was signed by thousands, including hundreds of fictitious and assumed names ; ridicule fell heavily upon the " People's Charter," and it collapsed. This was the last of it. Since then the wage-earning classes have greatly benefited by ballot voting, and there is no farther need for any such monster meetings. What may be yet in store for England we cannot say. Radicalism is rearing up its head, decrying the House of Lords, and attempting to browbeat an institution as old as the Commons. It was not by setting classes at variance that the liberties of the people (not merely those of the artizans, who are not the " people" any more than the merchants or the aristocracy, but of all classes) were secured. Those who object to the existence of the Lords and their descen- dants will do well to remember that it was by the barons of England that Magna Charta — the first great charter of liberty- was obtained. H. F. — ._ -i"^^^^ RUiNYMEDE. 416 " Bring out your Dead ! Being out your Dead !" PLAGUE AND FIRE. THE STORY OF THE GREAT PESTILENCE OF 1665, AND OF THE' FIRE OF LONDON IN 1666. The Seeds of Death — The first Victims — Former Plagues — The Portent of the Blazing Star — Spread of the Plagile during | May — The Prescription of the College of Physicians — The Quacks — Increase of Mortality during June — Multitudes leave the Town — The Lord Mayor's Regulations — The Dreadful Days of July — The Plague Pits — The Horrors of August — The Death-fires of September — The Pest-houses — Abatement of the Plague — The Number of Deaths — What was the Plague ? — Fire ! Fire ! — No Water to be Obtained — Efforts to preserve Property — A Walk through the Ruins — The Rebuilding of the City. The Seeds of Death. N the dreary gloom of a December day, in the year 1664, there was brought to the house of a well-to-do tradesman in Drury Lane a large parcel of merchandize from the East ; and shortly afterwards, we may imagine, there was gathered together in one of the low-ceiled, high-wainscoted rooms of the picturesque old house, a little party of persons to inspect the fine fabrics just imported. Loud would be the exclamations of delight as the sumptuous. 417 EE EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. stuffs were spread before their gaze ; and with the pleasure of children engaged with a new toy, coupled with the keenness of business men on the look-out for a good bar- gain, they doubtless turned over and handled with joyful eagerness the new goods just come from the far-off East. The firelight flickered on the low-pitched, smoke-blackened ceiling, and the short winter day waned into night, but still they lingered over the goods ; yet had they known what terrible danger lurked in the folds of those seemingly harmless materials, they would not only have shrunk back from them in terror and alarm, but would instantly have consigned them to the flames. For even as in the tiny seed lies hidden the promise of the stately oak or the lovely flower, so in these goods lay hidden the virulent contagion, the veritable seeds of death, which before long would burst forth into widespread pestilence. The death-cart rolling on its awful rounds, the hundreds of plague-stricken dwellings, the noisome plague-pits and pest-houses, the unparalleled dreariness and desolation of that fearful plague time, and the horrible deaths of a hundred thousand human beings, were the outcome of the contagion hidden in those infected goods. Those goods brought the plague to London; and in that picturesque old house in Drury Lane the Great Plague of 1665 was born. The First Victims. No suspicion seems to have been enter- tained that these goods carried contagion, although they had come from the Levant by way of the Netherlands, where the plague was .at that time raging frightfully ; for, according to an Order in Council then in force, all ships coming from Holland were quaran- tined for thirty days ; but very shortly after the parcel was opened, two Frenchmen who lived in the house began to show signs of feverishness and ill-health. A shivering not caused by the winter's cold shook their shuddering frames, a horrible nausea seized them, headache, swellings in various parts of the body, and low, muttering delirium suc- ceeded ; then, in a short time, the dreaded and unmistakable plague-spots appeared on their bodies, and death supervened. This was on the 20th of December, and these two men were held to be the first victims of the Great Plague.* * These are the generally accepted facts ; but Mr. P. W. Brayley, F.S.A., points out that they are not strictly accurate, as ' ' there were six persons died of the plague in 1664, as appears from the General Bill for that year;' 'and he also states that London had not been quite free for some years. Dr. Hodges, who practised in London during the time of the Plague, says in his ' 'Letter to a Person of Quality on the Rise, Progress, The frightened family did all in their power to conceal the circumstance, but to no purpose. The news got abroad ; and the authorities sent surgeons and physicians to make official inquiry ; and they, finding on the bodies the fatal spots which were so characteristic of the plague that they were known as " tokens," sent in their report that the two men had indeed died of the dreaded disease, and the fact was so stated in the published Bills of Mortality. It does not appear, however, that many precautions were taken ; and although the cold weather was unfavourable for the spread of the disease, yet other houses in the vicinity became in- fected ; and not long afterwards, another Frenchman, who had resided in the same house, but who, for fear of infection, had removed to Bearbinder Lane, in the City, fell sick in the same way, and died also. Then, indeed, people's hearts began to fail them for fear, especially as the recorded number of the deaths in certain parishes, and especially in St. Giles', began to rise, and it was thought that many persons died of the plague whose deaths were publicly referred to other causes. And so in the time of the shameless sin and licentious luxury of the court of the " merrie monarch " fell this terrible pestilence into the city, like a bolt from out the blue of a summer sky, and the people were aroused from their selfish pleasures by a heart-shaking dread of this dire disease. Former Plagues. The people had good reason to dread this frightful scourge, for they remembered the terrors of the plague in previous times, and the terrible ravages then occurring on the Con- tinent. London had frequently been visited Symptoms, and Cure of the Plague": — "After the most strict and serious inquiry by undoubted testimonies, I find that this pest was communicated to us from the Netherlands, by way of contagion ; and if the most probable relations deceive me not, it came from Smyrna to Holland in a parcel of infected goods." And a writer in Northouck's London ( ''-773 ) says that in the year 1663, shocking ravages were made in Amsterdam by the plague, so much so that measures were taken to prevent its spread into England. But in vain, for at the close of the year 1664, it was brought over to London in some Levant goods that came from Holland. These goods were carried to a house in Long Acre, near Drury Lane, or in the upper part of Drury Lane, where they were first op>ened. Here two Frenchmen died. The disorder communicated itself to other houses in the neighbourhood, and infected the parish officers who were employed about the dead. Another Frenchman who lived near the infected houses removed into Bearbinder Lane, City, and died there. Again, De Foe in his "History of the Plague," says : "The first person that died of the plague was on December 20th, or thereabouts, 1664, and in or about Long Acre ; the infection was generally said to be from a parcel of silks imported from Holland, and opened in that house," 418 PLAGUE AND FIRE. by pestilence. The narrowness of the streets, the closeness of the houses, built as they then were with the upper stories projecting over the lower, and the crowding together of the people, all rendered the inhabitants very liable to infectious diseases ; and the re- currence at irregular intervals of these terrible pestilences is one of the most remarkable facts of history. Frequently— indeed nearly always — they took their rise in the crowded, 'heated, filthy cities of the Levant and Asia, and spreading westward into Europe, they slew tens of thousands in their onward march. One of the most notable of these epidemics was the " Black Death" of 1348-9, which, rising in Asia, strode rapidly westward, and raged fearfully for many months in all •countries of Europe. Great Britain and Ireland suffered severely, and it is said that m London alone two hundred persons were buried daily in the Charterhouse. The best •description of the ravages of this pestilence in Italy is to be found in the introduction to the Decameron of Boccaccio. The next great time of plague was in the closing years of the fifteenth century, from 1485 to 1500, when at intervals the disease "known as the "Sweating Sickness" carried off thousands. According to the old his- torian Stow, this pestilence was so dreadful in London that Henry VII. removed his court to Calais. Again in 1506, and once more in 1517, the "Sweating Sickness" ravaged the land, so much so that, according to the same writer, half the inhabitants died in all the capital towns of England, and Oxford was quite depopulated. This disease Avas so fatal that it caused death in three liours. In addition to these, there were numerous other occasions when fearful and fatal epidemics prevailed. But terrible as these diseases were, and wide- spread as were their ravages, they sink into comparative insignificance when placed be- side the fearful plague which raged in London in 1665. So surpassingly dreadful were the scenes of this awful sickness, and so enor- mous was the mortality, that it is fittingly known as the Great Plague. Doubtless also greater prominence has been given to this visitation by reason of Daniel Defoe's celebrated narrative. Although v.'ritten many years after the occurrences took place, it has yet been elaborated with so much care, and contains -so many truthful details, evidently compiled either from the accounts of eye-wit- nesses, or from records to which the writer had access, that it leaves a remarkably graphic picture in the reader's mind. No other similar narrative, except that of Thucydides, which gives an account of the Plague at Athens, 430 B.C., can be compared to Defoe's, and the two may fitly be ranked together. It is written as if by an eye- witness, a saddler of Whitechapel ; and many of the circumstances he records may be traced to publications to which Defoe had access. ] It cannot be decided whether this plague was of precisely the same character as those which had before swept thousands into one common grave. Indeed, differences of opinion still exist as to its precise nature, and the means of its communication from one person to another. The Portent of the Blazing Star. During the month of February 1665, but few deaths seem to have occurred; and the severe frost which had bound the land in its icy fetters * still continuing, the ravages of the frightful pestilence were still further delayed. But with the advent of April warm, dry weather set in, and the Bills of Mortality rose very high. Then, indeed, terrible appre- hensions arose among the people; and the news quickly spread that, especially in St. Giles's parish, the pestilence was in several streets, and many families were all sick together with it. Then the knowing ones began to point out that the Blazing- Star, or comet which a short time before had passed over the city, had certainly fore- told this visitation ; and that as the star was faint and dull, it prognosticated a severe and heavy judgment of God, like the plague; also that the new one which was appear- ing (April 1665)! being swift and bright in appearance, it foretold that the pestilence would slay quickly, like a fiery furnace ; although after the Great Fire of London the wise folk and astrologers held that it had fore- told that great calamity. There were other signs and symptoms and supernatural appearances, portending, according to the numerous wizards and astrologers of that day, many evils. Some averred that they saw an angel in the upper air brandishing a fiery sword over the city ; while others maintained that they saw a ghost walk about the streets and point from the houses to the churchyards : but there is . no need to burden our pages with these details, except to point out that they in- creased the panic of the people. It was not until the 26th of April, 1665, when the number of deaths was already becoming frightful, that any official effort seems to have * December 2,nd, 1664, "It was now exceeding cold, and a hard, long, frosty season." January /s,th, 1665, "Excessive sharp frost and snow." — Evelyn's Diary. February 6th, 1665, "One of the coldest days, all say, they ever felt in England." — Pepys' . Diary. 'y t Both comets are mentioned in "Pepys" Diary," and, also in the first volume of " Philosophical Transac- , tions." The first appeared in December 1664, and the' second in April 1665. 419 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY been made to stop the progress of the dire disease. But on tlaat day appeared an Order in Council directing certain precautions to be taken ; as for instance, houses known to have the plague were to be shut up, and all com- munication with the outer world was to be stopped. Spread of the Plague during May ; The Prescription of the College of Physicians. But still the infection spread, until, in the middle of May, the weather becoming very hot, its ravages increased with frightful rapidity, and the plague began to be the talk of the town. Thus Pepys in his Diary, under date May 24th, says, " To the coffee-house, where all the news is of the Dutch being gone out, and of the plague growing upon us in this town, and of the remedies against it ; some saying one thing and some another." Some of these remedies seem to us of these later days ridiculous in the extreme, and suggest that many of the so-called specifics could not be other than utterly valueless. Thus, on the 13th of May, a Privy Council was held at Whitehall, under the auspices of which the College of Physicians formulated a code of directions for curing the plague and preventing infection. One ol these direc- tions was as follows : — "Pull off the feathers from the tails of living cocks, hens, pigeons, or chickens ; and holding their bills, hold them hard to the botch or swelling, and so keep them at that part till they die, and by this means draw out the poison. It is good also to apply a cupping- glass, or embers in a dish with a handful of sorrel upon the embers." If this were all that the concentrated wisdom of the whole College of Physicians could do for the poor plague-stricken people, no wonder that the pestilence raged so fiercely in the hot, close, and filthy streets of old London, during the sweltering heat of that burning summer. But, indeed, they knew no certain remedy; and it was as though the people were sheep without a shepherd, and without any protection what- ever against the disease, and the plague swept them away by wholesale into one common grave. The pestilence seemed to be utterly unknown to the doctors, past their art and comprehension. Indeed, many of them speedily fled to the country.* There were, however, here and there some * ' ' Physicians could not be blamed for retiring; the disease was not subject to tlieir art. Many learned physicians retired, not so much for their own preser- vation as for the service of those they attended: those who stayed, the plague put to their nonplus, in such strange and changeable shapes did the chameleon- like sickness appear." — ^De Quincey's Translation of Dr. Hodges' Loimologia, who remained, who seem to have had a fairly adequate idea of treating the distemper ; and it is on record that several cures were effected. Among these physicians may be mentioned the celebrated Sydenham ; and also Dr^ Hodges, author of " Loimologia," who seem to have practised with some success ; and Mr. William Boghurst, whose manuscripts are still preserved in the British Museum. This writer frankly says that at first he knew not what to recommend, thus : — "At first I was much baffled in giving judgment, yet afterwards, by use and long observation of the particulars, I arrived at a greater skill ; for I rendered myself familiar with the disease, knowing that the means to do any- good must be not to be fearful : wherefore I commonly dressed forty sores in a day, held the pulse of patients sweating in their beds half a quarter of an hour together .... held them up in their beds to keep them from strangling and choaking, half an hour together commonly, and suffered their breathing in. my face several times when they were dying ;. ate and drank with them, especially those that had sores ; sat down by their bedsides, and upon their beds, discoursing with them an hour together. If I had time, I stayed by them to see them die, and see the manner of their death, and closed up their mouth and eyes ; for they died with their mouth and eyes- very much open and staring. Then if people had nobody to help them (for help was scarce at such a time and place), I helped to lay them forth out of the bed and afterwards intcv. the coffin ; and last of all, accompanied them to the ground." There were several other physicians who^ like those already mentioned, nobly remained at the post of duty, and did what in them lay to combat the fell disease, but as a rule the doctors of that day seem to have been completely helpless before their noisome foe ;. nor is this to be altogether wondered at,. when the strange and surpassingly dreadful character of the complaint is remembered. It defied all medicine ; nothing seemed ta touch it ; and the very physicians themselves were seized and slain by it, even with their medicines in their mouths. The Quacks. But there are always fools who rush in. " where angels fear to tread ;" and there are always rogues to prey upon the ignorance and credulity of their fellows, especially in. times of danger ; and so in those early days. of the plague, when the fears of the people were yet young, and the terrible destruction and desolation which would ensue were yet entirely unsuspected, there were crowds of quack doctors, wizards, witches, and fortune tellers, who added greatly to the popular 420 PLAGUE AND FIRE. panic by enlarging upon the terrors of the plague, in order that the people might be the more easily fleeced of their money. Without doubt these quacks greatly helped the spread of the disease, for not only did the poor panic-stricken people succumb the more easily, because of the fright they were in ; but the filthy compounds prescribed by the quacks seem to have literally poisoned their bodies and prepared them for the plague. The art of advertising flourished exceed- ingly in those days, for innumerable doorposts and street corners were plastered all over with bills of advertisements of antidotes, such as, "Incomparable Drinks, Anti-Pestilen- tial Pills, Universal Remedies, Never Failing Preservatives, True Plague Waters," etc., etc. Pepys in his Diary refers to one of these, thus : " My Lady Carteret did this day give me a bottle oi Plague Water;" and in No. 38 of the Newes (for May i8th), we find the following quack advertisement, which may be taken as a sample of many others : — " Constantine Rhodocanaceis, Grecian, "hath, at a small price, that admirable pre- servative against the plague, wherewith Hippocrates, the Prince of all Physicians, preserved the whole land of Greece, etc., etc. To be had in London, next door to the Three Kings' Inn, in Southampton Buildings, near the King's Gate, on Holborne." And our old friends the College of Physi- cians issued the following as The Plagne- 'ivater of Mathins, or Aqua Epideniica : — " Take the roots of Tormentil, Angelica, Peony, Zedoarie, Liquorish Elecampane, of •each half an ounce; the leaves of Sage, Scor- ■dium Celandine, Rue, Rosemary, Wormwood, Ros Solis, Mugwort, Burnet, Dragons, Scabi- ous, Agrimony, Baum, Cardnus, Betony, Gentery the less, Marygold's leaves and "flowers, of each one handful. Let them all te cut, bruised, and infused three days in eight pints of White W^ine, in the month of May, and distilled." Now, we do not pretend to any knowledge ■of true remedies for the plague, and this may have been a scientific combination of proved remedies, but to our untutored imagination it seems that no person, even in the most Tobust health, could drink any of this pre- cious mess without becoming smitten at least with nausea and sore sickness, to say nothing •of a worse complaint. The Continued Increase of the Plague DURING June ; Multitudes leave the Town. Thus, amid terror and tribulation, and the clamour of many voices, passed the hot and •sunny days of that mournful month of May. And with the advent of June the trouble increased. The weather became still hotter ; the plague spread with frightful rapidity. People began to leave town in large numbers, and all the great thoroughfares out of the city were thronged day after day with vehicles of every description, — coaches and carriages containing folks of the richer sort appeared side by side with carts and waggons conveying persons of the humbler classes. There were multitudes on horseback, and many wayfarers on foot. And all day throngs besieged the Lord Mayor's door, pressing for passes and certifi- cates of health, for the fear of the plague had spread throughout the country, and no person now could lodge at any inn, or indeed as much as pass through a town, without a clean bill of health. London was indeed one great scene of uproar and confusion which contrasts strangely with the dreari- ness and desolation which were to follow. Some of these circumstances are thus noticed by Pepys, in his Diary, who makes this entry on June 7th : — " The hottest day that ever I felt in my life ;" and again on June 21st, "I find all the town going out of town; the coaches and carriages being all full of people going into the country." And yet again on June 29th, " To Whitehall, where the court was full of waggons and people ready to go out of town. This end of the town every day grows very bad of the plague. The Mortality Bill is come to 267, which is about ninety more than the last . . . Home; calling at Somerset House, where all were packing up too." Up to this time the pestilence had been confined chiefly to the west end of the town, — the parish of St. Giles, where it first appeared, and the neighbourhood around, — but now it spread eastward and southward. The heat continued very great, and the poor people, finding that neither physician nor quack could avail aught, ran about the streets crying, " Lord have mercy upon tcs, what shall we do f " The Lord Mayor's Regulations. It was at this time, when panic had suc- ceeded to terror, and it was clear beyond all possibility of doubt that the plague had taken strong hold on the town, that the Lord Mayor and Aldermen bestirred themselves as to the proper means to be taken for stopping the spread of the pestilence. As we have stated, regulations had been in force in St. Giles's since the end of April, and Defoe thinks that had these precautions been early followed in other parts of the metropolis the plague might have been stayed, or at all events deprived of half its terrors ; — for he says, "The Justices of Peace for Middlesex, by direction of the Secretary of State, had begun to shut up houses in the parishes of St. Giles - in - the - Fields, St. Martin, St. J.21 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY Clement Danes, etc. ; and it was with good success, for in several streets where the plague broke out, upon strict guarding the houses that were infected, and taking care to bury those that died immediately after they were known to be dead, the plague ceased in those streets. It was also observed that the plague decreased sooner in those parishes than it did in the parishes of Bishopsgate, Shoreditch, Aldgate, Whitechapel, Stepney, and others, the early care taken in that manner being a great means to the putting a check to it." But it was not until the latter end of June that the regulations of the Lord Mayor were published. They were to come in force on and from the ist of July, and are very lengthy and explicit. They provided for the appointment of examiners for every parish ; watchmen — one for the day and one for the night — for every infected house, to prevent both ingress and egress ; searchers to make due search and true report of the various cases of infection ; surgeons and nursekeepers. There were also orders concerning the regulations of infected houses and for the treatment of persons sick of the plague. Notice was to be given to the examiners of health of every person taken ill within two hours of the first appearance of any sign of illness, and as soon as the examiner, searcher, or chirurgeon (surgeon) found that any person was sick of the plague, the house was to be shut up, and a large red cross, a foot long, placed on the middle of the door, and the words, " Lord have MERCY UPON us," to be set close over the cross, and to continue there until the lawful opening of the house, which would not occur until all fear of infection therefrom was ab- solutely removed. There were also regu- lations for the burial of the dead, — that carts for the conveyance of the corpses were to perambulate the streets, accompanied by a bellman, and that funerals should only take place before sun-rising or after sun- setting, with the privity of the churchwardens or constables, and not otherwise, and that no corpse dead of the plague should be buried in or remain in any church. The principal and most stringent regula- tion was the shutting up of houses at the least fear of infection, and this rule was stoutly resisted by many of the people. Complaints were daily made to the Lord Mayor that the searchers, etc., had shut up houses unnecessarily, and from malicious motives, and also that in many instances there were several perfectly sound and healthy people who, being shut up with the one infected, perished in the miserable and unhealthy confinement, when otherwise they might have escaped. The magistrates were very strict, however, and the rule appears never to have been relaxed. This led at times to violent scenes between the watch- man and some of the people confined ; and often they broke out by main force, and many were the arts and deceptions practised to> outwit the watchman and escape. Pest-houses, or special hospitals for the re- ception of the patients, were also established in various parts of the town, and the church- yards being full, the dead were buried in the open spaces around, greatly to the dis- gust of certain of the inhabitants. Thus we find Pepys, in his Diary, writing, " I was much troubled to hear at Westminster, how the officers do bury the dead in the opeu Tuttle-fields (Tothill-fields), pretending want of room elsewhere." King Charles and his Court left the town. and went first to Hampton Court, then \.o Salisbury, and finally to Oxford, where the Parliament was held. The Duke of Albemarle was left Governor of London, and he co- operated cordially with the Lord Mayor in, his measures of relief. Most of the ministers fled, as also did many of the doctors. Tc» their everlasting credit be it said, there were many of the Nonconformist ministers who stayed. One of these, the Rev. Thomas Vincent, M.A,, who happily lived through the fearful scenes, wrote a remarkable ac- count, entitled, "God's Terrible Voice in the City," in which he says : — ." The citizens, when under the dreadful and deplorable circumstances to which the plague had reduced them, and in the greatest want of spiritual guides, were forsaken by their parochial ministers ; and the people^ crowding into eternity (bewailing the want of spiritual assistance), the Nonconformist ministers, considering their great obligations to God, and indispensable duty in this dreadful visitation to their fellow-citizens^ were induced, though contrary to law, to- repair to the deserted Church pulpits j whither the people, without distinction of Church and Dissenters, joyfully resorted. The concourse on those occasions was sc» exceedingly great that the ministers were frequently obliged to clamber over the pews to get at the pulpits ; and if ever preach- ing had a better effect than ordinary, it was at this time ; for the people did as eagerly catch at the Word as a drowning man at a rope." The Dreadful Days of July. But these regulations of the Lord Mayor did not stay the plague. Indeed, after the 1st of July, the number of deaths increased from 470 in the week to 725, 1089, 1843, and even 2010. The pestilence was in every street, and door after door was shut, and marked with a red cross and the pathetic appeal, "Lord have mercy on us," while before it stood the silent watchman. The stillness 423 PLAGUE AND FIRE. in many places was most profound, for half the people were away, and of the other half many were dead or dying or attending to the sick. Quiet and hot lay the bright sunshine on the desolate streets, and so deserted were the usually crowded thoroughfares, that grass began to grow between the stones. All trade was stopped, and no sound was heard save the shrieks of the plague-stricken people, or the agonised cries of those mourning fo their dead. Scarce any person passed through even the largest thoroughfares. There were but very few besides the devoted doctors or ministers, save the watchers or the corpse- carriers, and even these stepped in the middle of the roadway, and carried myrrh, wormwood, or rue in their hands. In the looked on strange and fearful sights, such as might well have eclipsed her mellow light. The churchyards being full, great pits were dug at Aldgate, at Finsbury, and other places; and into these the dead-carts were emptied one after another, the corpses being shot pell-mell into one common grave, and the buriers shovelling in earth over every few bodies. The Plague-pits. These pits were in some cases twenty feet deep, forty feet long, fifteen feet wide, and more than i,ioo bodies were buried in them.* They were dug out until they could be dug no more because of the water, and the corpses, fre- quently naked, — for incredible as it seems, it Pest-houses, Totkill Fields, Westminster. Star-lit dusk of the summer night, the dead-cart rolled on its awful rounds, and the desolate streets echoed to the melancholy cry, '■^ Bring out your dead, Brmg out your dead." Then the red-crossed doors were silently opened, and in the summer twilight the ghastly burdens were brought forth and thrown into the cart, accompanied by the groans and lamentations of the living. And the cart moved on with its gruesome freight, and the street was once more left to the solemn silence of death. London has never witnessed such scenes of horror before or since. It was no longer the busy metropolis. It was a city of the dead. Out in the suburbs the summer moon is said that the nurses and buriers often stole the linen or rugs wrapped round the poor bodies, — were hurriedinto them. Theseburiers were taken from the refuse of society; and so hardened and brutal did they become, that it is almost impossible to believe the tales of depravity reported against them, — some of them even secretly conveyed contagion from the sores of the sick to those who were well in order to rob them of their clothes. Some- times infected persons, in the frenzy of their fever and mad with pain, rushed up to the pits and threw themselves in, crying aloud that they would bury themselves ; and wher * Dimensions given by Defoe of the great pit ii Aldgate. 423 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the men descended into the pit to rescue them, they were found quite dead though not yet cold. There were also many pits dug of a smaller size, capable of containing from fifty to sixty corpses, and these were sunk in any convenient place. By command of the magistrates, no body was allowed to be left within six feet of the ground, and so it was necessary to dig deep in order to bury any number of bodies at all. The Horrors of August. It was in this way that July passed and the fourth month of this terrible visitation drew on. All this time the plague had been increasing, and notwithstanding all efforts to stop its ravages, it still continued to spread. The people were now dying at the frightful rate of more than 2,000 per week, and so virulent had the pestilence become that some dropped down dead suddenly in the street. Several of the drivers of the dead-carts were taken in this way. The explanation of these astounding instances may be found in the fact that in some cases the premonitory symptoms of the disease were so mild that the sufferer could not or would not admit that he was attacked, when suddenly a severe faintness palsied his limbs, the fatal maculae, or tokens, as they were commonly called, appeared on his body, giving unmistakable signs of the corruption within, and the disease — all the more deadly because secret — completed its fatal work at once. But in the majority of cases the symptoms were far too painful and severe to admit of any doubt. The disease usually commenced with severe sickness, shiverings, and headache; then followed pains in the limbs, swellings on various parts of the body, and carbuncles, or sores. If these could be made to discharge and so relieve the system of the poisonous matter, it was considered that the patient might recover, and great efforts were made to obtain this result, but usually, alas, with no success. Sometimes the swellings were cauterized to such a barbarous extent that the poor patients, already tortured almost past bearing by the disease itself, became frenzied under the added pain, and in their raving madness burst the bands which bound them to their beds, and either leaping from their windows or breaking down the doors of their houses, fought the watchman, and ran naked about the streets, eventually to leap into the river or into the burying pits, or to fall dead. As the sultry days of August advanced, the heat became more oppressive, and the horrors of the plague increased tenfold. The death-rate rose to 8,000 a week, so that the regulations of the magistrates could no longer be enforced, and the dead-carts were obliged to convey their ghastly freights to the great graves at all hours of the day as well as in the night. House after house stood open to the winds of heaven, and the death-like solitude and stillness which now brooded over the city was appalling. The great thoroughfares became so overgrown with grass that they looked like fields. The dread silence was here and there broken by the wild ravings of delirium or the wailings of woe, borne from out the open casements on the soft summer air; and sometimes the solitude of the streets was startled by the cries of poor frenzied fanatics, whose brains had been turned by the terrible scenes around. One of these, named Solomon Eagles, walked about the desolate streets entirely naked, with a pan of burning coals on his head, proclaiming the judgment of the Almighty upon the inhabitants of the great city ; while another, pacing the pathway with ghostlike tread, never ceased day or night to cry aloud in hollow, sepulchral tones, — " Oh, the great and dreadful God! Oh, the great and dreadful God!'''' and a third, remembering only in his wearied brain the prophecy of Jonah, solemnly exclaimed, as with stealthy tread he walked the streets, — "Yet forty days and London shall be destroyed." And indeed it seemed as though the prophecy would be fulfilled ; for sometime since there had been a complete stop put to the exodus from the city, and it appeared as though all who remained would perish. The Lord Mayor, Sir John Lawrence, could no longer grant certificates of health; for all streets were alike infected, and the country towns would not permit any stranger to enter within their gates. Some persons managed to evade all regulations, and escape, and lived by the roadside or in barns ; others took tents with them, and lived a literally nomadic life. But there were very few of these ; and it seemed as though all shut up in the doomed city must perish. The absence of all or nearly all the wealthy persons, the complete cessation of trade, and the breaking up of so many establish- ments had thrown thousands out of work. It is said that 40,000 servants alone were without a home, and left literally in the streets to starve or die of the plague, while the number of artisans without employment was too large to be calculated. During the whole of this trying time the Lord Mayor — Sir John Lawrence — and Alder- men remained in town and nobly fulfilled their duty. When the plague had begun seriously in May they did all that lay in their power to compose the minds of the people and keep them from the tricks of the astrologers and from that state of panic which we have seen prevailed to such an alarming extent, and so powerfully help to spread the 4.24, PLAGUE AND FIRE. plague. They published their determination not to quit the city, and announced their resolve that whatever happened they would remain to preserve order and do everything possible to prevent the ravages of the plague. Every day they held councils, inspected the markets to see that food free from taint was sold, and collected large sums for the benefit of the starving and plague-stricken poor. Fearful as were the scenes through which London passed during that fatal ■summer, they would have been still worse but for the noble, self-denying conduct of Lord Mayor Lawrence, for the horrors of star- There were various plans pursued for the purchase of provisions without spreading infection. On some occasions the money was placed in vinegar on a stone some little way out of the city, and the purchaser then retired some distance away, while the persons from the country having the food, vegetables, fruit, etc., to sell, and who had watched the proceeding from a place of safety afar off, came forward and took the money, and left the provisions bargained for. When meat was bought in the market it was hung on hooks in the same way, and the pur- chasers deposited the money in vinegar and Purchasing Provisions in the Days of the Plague. vation would have been added to those of the plague, and whatever mitigations were in force would have been wanting. A fund for the relief of the suffering city was inaugu- rated and regularly dispensed. The King subscribed a thousand pounds per week, and the city six hundred. The Earl of Craven, the Duke of Albemarle, Sir John Lawrence, Dr. Sheldon, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who remained in London all the time, the Oueen-dowager, and others, also gave liber- ally. It is said that for several weeks the Lord Mayor and Aldermen were able to dis- pense ^100,000 a week, but it is probable that this is an exaggeration. took it themselves off the hook, so that the vendor and purchaser came not at all near each other. The pestilence raged fearfully among the butchers and slaughter-houses of Whitechapel, and the market there was shunned as much as possible ; it is said that no person could go near the market without seeing several dead bodies lying about or across the narrow lanes leading to and from it. And there they lay until the dead- cart came and they were found by the buriers. The Death-fires of September. As August passed and the sultry days of 425 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. September set in, the mortality still con- tinued to increase. As a last hope it was resolved to endeavour to dissipate the pesti- lential miasma by burning huge fires in the streets. There were many doctors who op- posed this plan, but it was ordered by the council, and on the 2nd of September a proclamation was issued by the Lord Mayor to the effect that as the number of deaths still continued to increase, huge fires of sea-coal were to be kindled in every street, court, and alley, in the proportion of one fire to six houses on every side of the way. For three days and nights did these death-fires continue to burn, when they were extinguished by a heavy fall of rain. Whether caused by the suffocating smoke which arose from the fires put out in this way, or from the reeking mist caused by the hot sun shining after the heavy rain is not known, but certain it is (that the mortality rose higher than ever, more than 4,000 deaths occurring in the night following. The plague was now at its height, and it spread with an irresistible fury which seemed as though in a very few days it would sweep away every person left within the doomed city. The citizens, in the desperation of despair, gave over all efforts to stop its ravages. Some poor creatures paraded the streets, crying and wringing their hands, and pray- ing God for mercy ; others sat in their houses and wearily waited for death. Mothers mur- dered their own children in their desperate despair, and many went melancholy mad. Whole streets were now deserted, and it was a common thing for the buriers to find a houseful of persons all lying dead together. Frequently there were many dead-carts con- gregated at the pit's mouth full of dead bodies, but there was neither bellman or burier with them. These men had fallen dead while employed in their ghastly but necessary work. In the curious little book before alluded to, and published by Mr. Vincent after the plague, he saeaks thus of the days of August and September : — "Now the cloud is very black and the storm comes down upon us very sharp. Now Death rides triumphantly on his pale horse through our streets, and breaks into every house almost where any inhabitants are to be found. Now people fall as thick as the leaves in autumn when they are shaken by a mighty wind. Now there is a dismal solitude in London streets ; every day looks with the face of the Sabbath day, observed with greater solemnity than it used to be . . . and a deep silence almost in every place, especially within the walls. No prancing horses, no rattling coaches, no caUing in customers nor offering wares, no London cries sounding in the ears. If any voice be heard it is the groans of dying persons breathing forth their last, and the funeral knells of them that are ready to be carried to their graves. Now shutting up of visited houses (there being so many) is at an end, and most of the well are mingled among the sick, which otherwise would have got no help. . . . Never did so many hus- bands and wives die together ; never did so many parents carry their children with them to the grave and go together into the same house under earth, who had lived together in the same house upon it. Now the nights are too short to bury the dead ; the whole day, though at so great a length, is hardly suffi- cient to light the dead that fall thereon into their graves. ... Now the grave doth open its mouth without measure. Multitudes — multitudes in the valley of the shadow of death thronging daily into eternity ! The churchyards now are stuffed so full with dead corpses that they are in many places swelled two or three feet higher than they were before ; and new ground is broken up to bury the dead." The week ending the 19th of September was that in which the pestilence reached its greatest destructiveness. It is impossible to give the accurate figures of those who fell in this fearful week, as the buriers themselves said they were unable to reckon how many they had carried to the grave each day, and they frequently did not know the number in their carts ; but it is certain that more thani 10,000 perished. The number returned is 8,297, but it was well known that the Bills seldom gave more than two-thirds or three- fourths of the actual number. Yet even in this awful time there were some persons so desperate in their wickedness, and so utterly lost to all sense of shame, that they rioted in the basest licentiousness, and prowled about bent on robbery and murder. They literally fulfilled the heathenish maxim, " Let us eat and drink, for to-moirow we die." To-day they indulged in the grossest vice — on the next, their bodies were in the dead-cart. The Pest-houses. Without doubt the Lord Mayor and Council were remiss in one particular — viz.,. the erection of pest-houses or hospitals^ where stricken persons could have been taken directly they were infected. Defoe mentions that during the whole of this tinie there were but two pest-houses — one in the fields beyond Old Street, and one in Westminster, Tothill Fields ; but he must have been mistaken, for according to other sources, such as the parish book of St. Giles, etc., we learn that there were certainly others, though probably only small ones. Lord Craven, who remained in London during the whole of the time, caused one to be buUt on 426 PLAGUE AND FIRE. what is now known as Golden Square. This consisted of about thirty-six small tenements, and was capable of holding about two hundred patients, but certain charges appear to have Tseen made for admission, which of course prevented its usefulness, and defeated the very object for which it was erected, as the very poor, among whom the plague raged so violently, could not avail themselves of it. The "pest-houses" inTothill Fields, West- minster, consisted of a few red-brick build- ings, also built by Lord Craven ; and many a torch or lanthorn-lighted group of mys- terious figures bore litters of plague-stricken people to this then solitary spot when the pestilence was at its height. The other pest-house belonged to the City. It consisted of several tenements, and was situated on the spot upon which Pest-house Row now stands, near Old Street, St. Luke's. In these pest-houses the people were so well looked after that there were but com- paratively few burials from them, only about 1 60 from each of the two principal ones having occurred during the entire time. Abatement of the Plague. Towards the end of September, cool winds began to blow, and the scorching heat of this most sultry summer sank to a more normal temperature. The effect was instantly seen in the weekly Bills of Mortality, and men thanked God as they had never thanked Him before when, on the 26th of September, they saw that there had been a considerable decrease in the number of deaths during the week. There were, in fact, nearly two thousand less than in the week preceding. Although the number was still very great, yet the citizens regarded this decrease as a most favourable sign ; and grim Despair, which for so long a time had been their dread fami- liar, now gave place to white-winged Hope. Joy began again to beam forth on faces which for so many weary weeks had been stricken with gloom. We can well imagine that bright autumn morning when this first good news was pub- lished. Those who knew it went from street to street, repeating it to those whom they met. " Have you heard the good news, neigh- bour?" " Nay, what good news ? There can be no good news in these dreadful days !" " Yes, but the plague is abating.^'' "The plag7ie is abating? Oh! thank God. God be praised !" And he would cry or weep aloud for joy, and hasten to tell his friends. And those who could not leave their houses would shout the glad tidings from their narrow casements to any persons who might be near; and thus the city of the dead and dying began again to take hope and courage. But at this time it has been computed that there were no less than 60,000 people sick of the plague ; and if it had not been that many of them began now to rapidly recover, the mortality must have been greater than even when the plague was at its highest, in the third week in September. But the most cheering feature of this period was, that whereas before, most persons who were in- fected died, and died very rapidly, a very great number now began to recover. The poison of the plague seemed to have lost its virulence, and out of that large number — 60,000 — it is believed that the vast majority became healthy again. This fact received still more striking con- firmation during the next and following weeksj for the number of deaths decreased daily, and the same cold winds and crisp frosts of that chill October which shook the sere leaves of the long, hot summer to the ground, gave new life and vigour to the poor plague- stricken and enervated people in town. The cold, bracing vi^eather of late autumn and early winter seems to have done more to stop the plague than all the efforts of physicians. The city now made rapid progress to health, and people began gradually to return — very slowly and timorously at first, lest the contagion might not be really gone. By degrees the shops were re-opened, and the bustle of business was again heard in the streets. Every morning when the Bill of Health was published, and the numbers were seen to be still on the decline, the people would go about with smiles on their faces, repeating the good news one to another. As the plague still further abated, the people returned in crowds to occupy their houses. In fact, such foolish haste did many of them exhibit, that several cases occurred of persons sleeping in beds from which but a itw days before bodies dead of the plague had been taken to the grave. Thus Dr. Hodges, in his Loijiiologia, writes : " Those citizens who were before afraid even of their friends and relations, would without fear venture into the houses and rooms where infected persons had a little before breathed their last ; nay, such comforts did inspire the languishing people, and such confidence, that many went into the beds where persons had died, even before they were cold or cleansed from the stench of the disease." This foolish temerity caused many persons to lose their lives, and in the first weeks of November, when the people were fast returning to their homes, the bills rose again ; but by degrees people began to resume their usual occupation. London once more appeared full and busy. The Court returned in February to White- hall, and the nobility followed. So many people again crowded the streets that in a short time those who had perished seemed 427 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. not to be noticed ; and though the plague ■still lingered in out-of-the-way streets, its terror seemed almost forgotten. According to the official returns, there perished in London during the time of the plague-year — i.e., from the 20th of December, 1664, when the plague first broke out in Drury Lane, by the death of the two French- men, to the 19th of December, 1665, when the number had decreased to about 200 — the immense number of 68,596 ; but as many deaths were known to have been unrecorded, and as in the six most terrible weeks of August and September the dead-carts were so con- stantly full that the buriers lost all count, it has been computed that the real number of ■deaths must have been at ]east 100,000, while Clarendon gives the appalling number of 160,000. It is believed, however, that this last number is an exaggeration. What was the Plague? Happily the plague has been unknown in England since the times of which we have written, and there has been no opportunity for our scientific men to study it with accuracy. Its true home seems to be in Egypt and the Levant. Great difference of opinion still exists among medical men as to its cause, exact nature, and treatment. It would seem that a subtle poison, which has hitherto •escaped all chemical tests and microscopic examination, is communicated and absorbed in the system, where it speedily alters the blood and tissues, and decomposes the whole body before even life has become extinct. It is known, however, to be a very ma- lignant contagious fever, prevailing epidemi- cally, and accompanied by buboes or painful swellings of the lymphatic glands, and also by carbuncles. It appears usually to commence with sensations of intense weariness, accom- panied by shivering and sickness, giddiness and pains in the loins. Mental disturbance, delirium and stupor, follow ; there is a painful sense of constriction about the heart, and darting pains are felt in the armpits, groins, and other parts of the body where the lymphatic glands are situated, and which presently swell painfully, although some accounts exist in which these swellings have not occurred. Carbuncles appear on various parts of the body, and also petechial spots, or purple patches resembling bruises, and dark-looking stripes. These spots are sup- posed to have been the " tokens * alluded to by the old writers on the subject. Most writers agree that it spreads rapidly by contact, and that temperature exerts a i"onsiderable influence over it. Both extreme Iieat and cold seem to be fatal to it. Thus in tropical and in extremely cold countries it is unknown, while in Europe it has been always most fatal in September. It may be that it is a very malignant and complicated combination of other epidemics with some of which we are even now at times familiar ; such malignancy and complication being due to the closeness, sickening heat, and filth of the old cities. In any case there is no doubt but that the better sanitary con- ditions under which Europeans now live, the free use of cold water, good ventilation, wider streets, and moderate habits of life, all con- duce to keep us free from this horrible pestilence. In former times, however, seeing that the people could find neither adequate cause or certain cure for the disease, it is not to be wondered at that many persons believed that the Almighty had for the time being put aside all natural laws, and inflicted upon the people a strange and terrible disease which should baffle all human skill, and which He alone could stop at His pleasure. Fire ! Fire ! Scarcely had the terror and tribulation occasioned by the ravages of the plague died away before another appalling calamity burst upon the devoted city, — a calamity which, although at first it appeared so des- perately disastrous, was to prove a veritable blessing in disguise. It was just a year after the terrible death- fires were burning in London streets, and doubtless there were many who were speak- ing of those dismal times, when about ten o'clock on the evening of Saturday the 2nd of September, 1666, the late loiterers in the narrow streets near London Bridge were startled by the sight of a bright tongue of flame shooting upwards into the darksome sky ; and before long they learned that the house of a poor baker named Farryner, situated in Pudding Lane, near Fish Street Hill, had caught fire. Unfortunately in those days a fire in the close and crowded London streets, built of wooden houses, some of them a century old, was no uncommon occurrence ; and after the first shock of surprise had passed, most of the people went quietly home to bed. " Oh, it is only the half-decayed house of a poor baker who has over-heated his oven," they said. " It is better down than up, no doubt, it is so old." But before morning had dawned they thought otherwise, for the fire spread with startling rapidity, and all efforts to stop it were unavailing. The house in which it originated was a very old and worm-eaten structure ; and being dry as tinder by reason of the recent drought, it was rapidly consumed. A high wind was blowing from the east, and the flames speedily spread to the neighbouring houses, which, being all old and half-decayed, and filled with oil, tar, and other combus- 428 PLAGUE AND FIRE. tibles used in ship-building and ship-furnish- ing, afforded ready fuel for the wind-driven fire. In a few hours the whole of Billings- gate ward was in flames ; and then, fanned by the fierce wind, the fire tore along Thames Street, and seized upon St. Magnus' Church, which was situated at what was then known as Bridgefoot. At first the few citizens who were alarmed were so affrighted and amazed that they knew not what to do. The cumbersome engines then in the neighbourhood were reduced to ashes before they could be used. Then as the terrible cries of " Fire ! Fire ! Fire !" resounded through the streets, the inhabitants of the surrounding houses rushed sparks and flakes of fire a great distance- ahead, and set many buildings on fire before, the original conflagration reached them. Still the flames swept on, and their lurid light fell upon the white faces of the terrified people who thronged and struggled in the crowded streets. Their terrible rattling and roaring was now mingled with the din of falling houses and the shrieks and shoutings, the oaths and curses of the panic-stricken people. Now the terrible scene was lighter than day by reason of the ruddy flames, and again it was dark as night when the fire seized some warehouse of oil and tar and poured forth volumes of dense black suffocat- ing smoke. The Great Fire of London, seen from Bankside, tiouTHWARK. {Frotn a print of the period by Visscher^ from their beds in terror, panic-stricken, and numbers of half-dazed, half-dressed creatures thronged into the narrow thoroughfares and increased the panic. Then burst forth the fire-bells from the neighbouring churches, and their loud alarums now mingled with the roar of the rushing flames, and the terrible cries of "Fire ! Fire !" The confusion and terror increased every minute. Every one seemed bent on saving what they could of their own property, and the narrow streets were choked with piles of household goods. But the flames were so fierce that they burned even these, and the terrified people had to fly for their lives. The summer had been long and hot, and all the wooden houses were dry as touch- wood. The wind, blowing fiercely, carried No Water ! To add to the terror and confusion the pipes of the New River Company were found dry, and no water could be obtained. This added to the belief that the fire was the work of in- cendiaries, either fanatical papists or foreign enemies, or, as an old writer quaintly said,. "The same doth smell of^ popish design." And there were not wanting religious enthusi- asts who sternly shouted aloud that this was another judgment of the Almighty for the wickedness of the times, and that He, seeing that the people had not been turned to repent- ance by the plague, now intended to make an end of the wicked city. Every minute the flames gathered fresh force, and seemed to justify the belief that every building would be bnrned to the ground. 42Q EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. The Lord Mayor — Sir Thomas Bludworth —and the civic authorities were long m coming to the scene, and when they arrived they shrank from such bold and decisive measures as the blowing up of houses and so localizing the flames, which alone could have availed anything. For many hours the Lord Mayor would not even accept the aid of the soldiers, and, in short, nothing worth mentioning seems to have been done to prevent the spread of the flames. As the night passed, the flre continued to rage with the utmost fury, rushing from house to house with marvellous rapidity. The narrow lanes and streets speedily- be- came streets of flame, and the half-naked people, abandoning all hope, fled before them ' in abject terror. Sunday morning dawned, and the Septem- ber sun showed through the canopy of lurid smoke like a spot of blood. Still the flames rushed on, and the whole city resounded with their roaring and rattle and the cries of "Fire! Fire! Fire!" The houses near London Bridge, all Thames Street, and up to Cheapside, appeared now but heaps of hot and smouldering ruins. The consterna- tion and confusion increased every minute. Never was there such a Sunday before or since in London. The terror and tribula- tion, the frenzied fright and panic-stricken confusion were without parallel. The people, deprived of house and home as it were in a second of time, were driven westward and northward to find refuge in the fields about Islington and Highgate, for there was fear of every building being destroyed. The city train-bands were put under arms, with orders to watch at every quarter for treacherous men, because it was rumoured that fire-balls were thrown into houses to increase the fires, and that popish emissaries were at work. And indeed men's thoughts seem to have been almost more turned on these stories of malice and treachery as to the cause of the fire than how to prevent it. Immediately near to it were gathered a vast number of wretched ruffians who carried on their work of plunder even in the very teeth of death. Oaths and shrieks, the clanging of fire-bells and the roaring of the flames, were all mingled in one horrible din. Many churches were in flames that day ; and of this the Rev, Thomas Vincent writes in the quaint pamphlet to which we have before al- luded : — " God seemed to come down and preach Himself in them, as He did in Sinai when the mount burned with fire ; such warm preaching those churches never had ; such lightning dreadful sermons never were before delivered . . . Instead of a holy rest which Christians had usually taken on that day, there was tumultuous hurrying about the streets toward the places that burned, and more tumultuous hurrying upon the spirits of those that sat still, and had only the notice of the ear of the strange and quick spreading of the fire." As that Sunday night drew on, the spectacle became most appallingly magnificent. Thou- sands of houses were burning, and a vast sheet of fire, a mile in diameter, was seen ascending to the sky ; the flames were bent and broken, and twisted by the fierce wind into a thou- sand fearful shapes,- and every blast bore through the air large flakes of fire which, falling on the pitched roofs of the old houses, kindled new conflagrations on every side. The lurid glare of the sky, which for miles was like a burning vault, and the oppressive heat, the roaring of the flames and the falling of the houses and churches, combined to make a scene the like of which has never been witnessed before or since. For ten miles around the country was bright as mid- day, while for fifty miles the billows of smoke rolled, and London seemed like a sea of flame. The fire had now reached Garlick- hithe, in Thames Street, and had levelled part of Cannon Street to the ground. It was blazing all along by the water's edge, and advancing up towards Cornhill. All efforts made this day to stop the flames proved ineffectual, the wind still con- tinued high and swept the fire onward with merciless rapidity. Little sleep was taken in London that night. Complete consternation had seized upon all the people, and those who had hitherto regarded the fire as a local affair, not con- cerning them, were now aroused and fearful. The slothful king himself was startled from his selfish pleasures, and leaving his luxurious palace, appeared in person and gave direc- tions for fighting the flames. Houses were pulled down, and water was thrown on the burning masses by means of buckets ; but all to no purpose. The fire leaped over the gaps caused by the ruined dwellings, crossed the narrow streets, and lapped up the water like oil. When Monday morning dawned, Grace- church Street was all in flames, with Lombard Street and Fenchurch Street. The burning was like a bow, the point of which soon reached Cornhill, and attacked the Royal Exchange. This splendid building, which at that time was the best of the kind in Europe, had been built just one hundred years before by Sir Thomas Gresham. But very quickly the noble galleries of that spacious building were burned down, and with an appalling noise the walls fell in, and all the stone statues of the English kings which had stood within its quadrangle cracked and crumbled with the intense heat, leaving only the founder's statue, which, strange to say, remained un- 430 PLAGUE AND FIRE. shaken. But when the merchants and the townspeople saw their celebrated Exchange consumed, then indeed did they quail and tremble. They feared that everything must go, and became full of distraction and con- fusion, running hither and thither in utter bewilderment and having no command of their own thoughts. Efforts to preserve Property. Some persons who still kept their wits about them chartered boats and barges, and filled them with such goods as they could save and sent them floating down the Thames. Others paid as much as £10 for a cart to convey some of their property far beyond the outskirts of the city. The fields for many miles around were strewn with movables of all kinds, and tents were erected to cover a few of the thousands of burned-out people. It was indeed a piteous sight to see these terror-smitten myriads wearily wending their way, with their wives and little ones, into the fields. There were some so terror-stricken that tears ran down their pallid cheeks like rain, others beat their breasts and wrung their hands in utter despair, while many sobbed and shrieked aloud in their agony and distress of soul. Here might be seen sick invalids just borne from their beds, and others only just able to drag themselves along, and close by were aged persons whose withered cheeks and white hair told of many a painful struggle past, and now in their old age they were reduced t6 utter penury and want. Sick and sound, aged and young, were all going forth in their thousands to seek shelter in the shelterless fields, and so Monday night drew on. If the evening of Sunday had been' fearful, Monday night was much worse. The very pavements were glowing with fiery heat, and the air was so hot that no person could ven- ture within a furlong's space of the burning streets. The blaze was so fearful that it was lighter than noonday. The fire had now worked backward against the wind along Thames Street East, and up towards Tower Hill. The other part of the conflagration had burned Cheapside, and was close upon St. Paul's, while another portion had blazed along the water's edge towards Fleet Street and the Temple. There were some who hoped that the Cathedral, being isolated and only very lately rebuilt of stone, would remain untouched, and for a long period it towered grim and dark above the sea of flame like a massive rock amid the stormy waves. But it yielded at length; and the all-conquering flames, driven furiously towards it by the fierce east wind, caught the roof and some of the scaffold poles which were still standing around it. The molten lead from the roof ran down its walls in a fiery stream, and the stones split and peeled off with the intense heat, and pieces flew from side to side with loud reports as if shot from a cannon ; mas- sive beams fell to the ground with a noise like thunder, and as the splendid building was consumed, the triumphant flames shot higher and higher into the burning sky. After this, the fire raged down Fleet Street with wonderful rapidity, and blazed to the north along Newgate Street, and attacked Newgate Prison, which was soon consumed. The flakes of fire now fell thick on every side, and so rapid was the spread of the flames that King Charles feared that not only Whitehall, but Westminster Abbey would be consumed. Then indeed he bestirred himself. He sent numbers of gentlemen to various posts, with instructions at all hazards to stop the flames; and as it seemed quite clear that nothing short of blowing down houses — so as to create wide gaps over which the fire could not leap — would be of service, this plan was now adopted. But the fire was spreading with such marvellous rapidity that it was now several miles in compass. Beginning near the Temple, it was blazing northward along by Fetter Lane to Holborn ; here it bent back- ward by Snow Hill, Newgate Street, Guildhall, Coleman Street, Lothbury, Broad Street, Bishopsgate Street, and Leadenhall Street. All through Tuesday night the fire raged with unabated force, the roaring of the flames was increased by heavy sounds as of thunder, as houses were blown down. This night Guildhall was a splendid though appalling spectacle. Being built of solid oak, it stood for many hours after the fire had seized upon it, glowing with heat like the heart of a fire or burnished brass. Thus, notwithstanding all efforts, the fire still 1 a jed fiercely ; and when Wednesday morn- ing dawned on the weary eyes of the terrified people, there were many who believed that all the suburbs would be burned. King Charles had sent all his belongings down the river to Hampton Court, and great preparations were made for a still further exodus of the people and removal of property. But now provi- dentially the wind fell, and the efforts that had already been made seeming likely to be successful, the people were encouraged to make still further exertions ; the gaps caused by the blown-up houses being wider than previously, and the wind being far less furious, the fire could not leap across ; conse- quently it began very sensibly to abate. It came no farther west than the Temple, and no farther north than the entrance to Smithfield; but within these limits it still raged, and so great was the heat thrown out by the burning ruins that no one could venture near. The people stiil worked with a will, and the fire being thus localized and limited in 431 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. its extent, was kept under, although so fiercely did it rage in certain quarters — towards Cripplegate and also near the Tower, while it also broke out again in the Temple — that there were many who still feared it might spread. The exertions of the King on this day were most praiseworthy. He made the round of the fire twice, and by commands, threatenings, and a good store of money, kept the workers at their various posts. He also exerted himself to obtain food and procure provisions and shelter for the thou- sands of burned-out people who were lodging in the fields. Orders were sent into various parts of the country for supplies of food and tents, and also for boards wherewith to construct temporary huts. During Wednes- day afternoon the flames gradually decreased, and on Thursday the fire was everywhere extinguished. Curiously enough, it ended at a place called Pye Corner, where a tablet still marks the spot. « A Walk through the Ruins. It was a fearful and melancholy sight that the September sun shone upon, that Friday morning following the fire. London in ruins — smoking, smouldering, burning ruins. A traveller making his way with extraordinary difficulty along what once was Fleet Street, would see on every side the heaps of smoking rubbish where once had been quaint and picturesque houses, ancient churches, and historical edifices. And when, often mis- taking his way, he reached the spot on which St. Paul's Cathedral had reared its imposing front, he would be able to see straight down to the river on one hand, and obtain a clear view of the Tower before him on the other ; there was nothing to obstruct his view — on every side were the blackened heaps. But the sad ruins of the Cathedral itself would arrest his attention. Before him lay long flakes of the huge stones, all split asunder, and many pieces of the massive Portland stone quite calcined; ornaments and arches, capitals and columns, all destroyed and crumbled into dust ; yet, singularly enough, the inscription on the architrave was yet entire. But the ground was still so hot that he would not be able long to stand at one spot ; and indeed in the narrower streets he could not pass at all, while the clouds of suffoca- ting smoke that here and there arose almost choked him ; so making his way north, he would come in time to Moorfields and Fins- bury Fields, where for several miles around, and as far as the eye could reach, were encamped the poor inhabitants burned out of house and home. Many of them, by reason of the hurriedness of their flight, had scarcely any clothes to cover them ; many more had nothing but the dress on their backs. Yet, though on the verge of starvation, they were for the most part quiet and orderly, although it was the quiet of melancholy and despair. On every side were ruin, poverty, and distress. The City's Resurrection. The sturdy English spirit soon reasserted itself, and before long great eff"orts were made for the rebuilding of the city. Even before the ruins were cold, Sir Christopher Wren, by the King's command, had been over the great plain of ashes, roughly surveyed the ground, and drawn out plans for the recon- struction of the city on a uniform and magnificent scale. Unfortunately the owners of the various sites could not be brought to agree, and a splendid opportunity of re- building a magnificent city was los't. But as it was, London soon rose phoenix- like from its ashes, with more spacious streets and splendid edifices than had ever been seen before in England. The Act for re- building was drawn by Sir Matthew Hale with great wisdom, so that no lawsuits ensued ; and here and there houses began speedily to arise, as far as possible on the old sites • these were gradually joined into wide streets. In four years' time, according to the writers in one of the papers of the period, London was rebuilt with so much beauty and mag- nificence that all Europe was amazed. And in order to preserve the memory of this terrible visitation, it was enacted by Parliament that a tali column should be erected as near to the place where the fire began as was possible ; in consequence of which Sir Christopher Wren erected the famous monument on Fish Street Hill, on which is set forth, in accordance with the searches of the city surveyor, that the de- struction comprised eighty-nine churches, 1 3,200 houses, the city walls and gates, Guild- hall, four hundred streets, St. Paul's Cathedral,, and many other public edifices, the total amount of loss being estimated at ;!^7,33 5,000. But however much the good citizens of London might have suffered through these dreadful three days, and however great the destruction might have been, there is no doubt birt that the fire was one of the great- est blessings that ever befell London. For not only did it purify the city from the plague, and banish it from our midst, but instead of the close, and crooked streets, with their dark and ill-contrived wooden houses, each having its various stories jutting out one above another, so that light and air could scarcely penetrate into the street below, where pestilential vapours always hung, — instead of a foul and filthy town, the nest of noisome disease, there arose a handsome and healthy city, well adapted for the grand part it was destined to play as the great centre of the Anglo-Saxon race and the mighty metropolis. of the whole world. F. M. H. 432 The Cathedral at Palermo. THE SICILIAN VESPERS. THE STORY OF A NATION'S VENGEANCE. " Ill-lording, which doth desperate make The people ever, in Palermo raised The shout of ' Death ! ' re-echoed loud and long." Dante : Paradiso, Canto viii., I. 78 i National Outbreaks and their Effects— The " Roman Empire " of the Germans— Italy in the Middle Ages — Her Municipal Institutions — The Hohenstauffen Emperors and the Popes — Guelphs and Ghibelines— Sicily under the Saracen and the Norman rule — Frederick Barbarossa and his Successors — Policy of the Popes — Supremacy of Rome — Manfred the Suabian Hero ; and Conradin the Last of the Hohenstauffen— Papal design to establish a King in Sicily — Charles of Anjou and Manfred— Battle of Benevento — Conradin's invasion of Italy — Tagliacozzo — l3eath of Conradin — Vengeance of Charles of Anjou — Feudal Oppressions — Condition of Sicily and Apulia — Peter of Aragon and John of Procida — The Massacre of March 31st, 1282 — Its Results — Conclusion. NATIONAL Outbreaks and their Effects. N his glorious Lay of the Bell, Schiller describes, in thrilling verse, the sudden uprising of a people, that breaks its bonds asunder, and in a sudden burst of fury sweeps away, like a mighty inundation, the landmarks esta- blished by law and government. With a vivid recollection upon him of the scenes of slaughter and violence that horrified Europe in the first French Revolution, the poet declares that though it is dangerous to 433 FF EPOCHS AND. EPISODES OF HISIORY. arouse the slumbering lion, though the tiger's fang is destructive, "Das Schreck- lichste der Schrecken'' (the horrible of horrors) is man when fury has bereft him of reason. With glowing eloquence he paints the scene of rapine and of ruin ; emphatically denouncing the folly of those who place in the grasp of the blind, besotted helot the torch of liberty, which sheds no light upon him, but becomes in his hand the instrument of the incendiary, laying habitations and cities in ashes, and spread- ing woe and desolation around. It is not, however, always thus. Sudden outbursts of popular indignation do not always end in impotent bursts of fury ; "Time and destiny also travel on." Thus in Paris, on the 14th of July, a mob as- sembles suddenly, — a fierce "sansculotte" mob, such as the majority of great cities can produce at a moment's notice. "A hundred and fifty thousand of us," says Carlyle in his magnificent History of the French Revo- lution, "and but the third man furnished with so much as a pike ! Arms are the one thing needful : with arms we are an uncon- querable, man-defying National Guard ; without arms, a rabble to be whiffed with grape-shot." Arms are procured ; and be- fore the shades of the short summer night have descended upon Paris, the Bastile has fallen, and the last hour of the despotic government and of the power of poor Louis XVI. has sounded. Again, an adventurer who had failed repeatedly and disastrously when the conditions of success seemed in his favour, puts forth from a port of Northern Italy, with a few hundred companions, in a steamer bound for Sicily, in i860; and men shrug their shoulders, and cynically speculate on the probable fate of the mad- man Garibaldi who has engaged in a desperate venture to overthrow the govern- ment of the Neapolitan Bourbons. But the hour has come, and the man ; and the enterprize, to the marvel of Europe, succeeds — succeeds brilliantly ; and Garibaldi the conqueror marches from triumph to triumph, until Francis II. and his troops and his sbirri have been hustled out of Italy. These and many other instances bear witness to the great results achieved by desperate ventures and in sudden tumults, when the time is ripe for action, and when the heart of a nation has been thoroughly stirred by a feeling of hatred and a determination to endure wrong no longer. Such a sudden and irresistible outburst it was that occurred at Palermo just six hundred years ago, on the Tuesday in Easter week in 1282, Easter falling in that year on the 31st of March. The event is known in history as the Sicilian Vespers, and has justly been designated by the Italian Amari, the historian of the "War of the Sicilian Vespers," as the most im- portant thing that happened in Sicily during the middle ages. Its effect was to wrest the Kingdom of Sicily, consisting of the island and of the large territory on the mainland, from the rule of the French, and ultimately to transfer it to the Spaniards. It also had a most important influence on the fortunes and destinies of the continent of Europe generally. National vanity and other causes had obscured the facts of the revolution, and surrounded it with fables that arose in long subsequent times, and were repeated by various historians. It was reserved for the intelligent and acute reasoner, the Sicilian Michell Amari, to» sweep away the accumulated errors, and to- place this important Epoch of History in its true light before the world. A new interest has been given to the event, moreover, by the recent celebration of the six hundredth anniversary of the Sicilian Vespers, a pro- ceeding which to many has appeared like commemorating a massacre of St. Bartho- lomew. But the cases are widely different. The St. Bartholomew was a treacherous and cruel conspiracy, involving the murder in cold blood of a number of peaceful citizens against whose lives fanaticism had been roused in its most hideous form. In the " Sicilian Vespers," though involving a lamentable butchery, may be recognised the furious outburst of anger of an oppressed people seeking a kind of wild justice in righting its own wrong. Therefore, also, the defenders of the celebration declared that the event was to be commemorated as the French were accustomed to observe the anniversaries of the taking of the Bastile, — not with reference to the violence and blood- shed it involved, but in its character as a great effort made by a people to free itself from unendurable tyranny. To place before the reader this event in an intelligible form, it is necessary briefly to speak of the state of things in Italy and the German Empire some time previously. The Roman Empire of the Germans « It had been a fundamental principle from early times, that the German Emperors- should protect the Church with their great material power, and stand forth with their armies to defend the pope in his rights and immunities whenever these should be attacked by an enemy. In return the sovereign pontiff was to uphold the au- thority of the Emperors by all the great spiritual influence he wielded as the Head of the Church, — an influence that was greatly increased in the course of centuries. The old formula that defined the respective position of the greatest of earthly and the 434 THE SICILIAN VESPERS. first of spiritual rulers ran thus : " God hath sent two swords into the world for the protection of Christendom — to the Pope He hath entrusted the spiritual, to the Emperor the temporal. Thus the feudal supremacy of the Emperors of the West, from Charle- magne downwards, extended over Italy ; and m the tenth century, under the powerful Saxon House, under Henry the Fowler and his descendants the Othos, this dominion and supremacy was real and actual. But after the Saxon House came feeble suc- cessors ; and the influence of the Church increased as that of the Empire diminished, the long minority of Henry IV. , afterwards the opponent of Gregory VII., giving a good opportunity for the increase of the ecclesiastical power throughout Germany, while the imperial sway in Italy became merely nominal. Humiliation was inflicted upon the Emperor Henry IV. at Canossa, where the unfortunate monarch's only hope of regaining his authority over his re- volted vassals was in reconciliation with the pontiff whom he had bitterly offended, and who revenged himself by keeping the suppliant waiting in penitential garb in the outer court for several days before admitting him to an audience ; and even then, though the kiss of peace was at last reluctantly given to the suppliant emperor, it was only on condition that the points in dispute between Henry and the pontiff should be referred to a council to be sum- moned the next year. It may easily be supposed that such a spectacle was not calculated to raise the respect of the Italians for the imperial authority ; and, indeed, the popes now re- pudiated the idea of the divided power, and arrogated to themselves temporal as well as spiritual sway over the nations of the earth ; alleging that the emperor's power was of human, and that of the pope of divine institution, and that the divine must in the nature of things prevail over the human. Italy and her Municipal Institu- tions, The material prosperity of the beautiful land of Italy meanwhile continued to in- crease with astonishing rapidity as time went on. Italy was the great emporium for the commerce from the East in those days when a maritime route to the Indies was yet undreamt of; and in intelligence, in literature, science and the arts, she was as far in advance of the rest of Europe as in opulence, in those days "when com- merce proudly flourished through the state," and when at wealth's potent command "the palace learnt to rise ; Again the long fallen column sought the skies; The canvas glowed, beyond e'en nature warm; The pregnant quarry teemed with human form ' ' — ere yet, "more inconstant than the southern gale. Commerce on other shores displayed her sail." As feudal communities are by the nature of things aristocratic in their constitution, so are commercial states inclined towards the republican form. The wealthy cities of Italy aspired to govern themselves inde- pendently; and a municipal system, or con- federacy of cities, sprang up, each with its separate polity and laws, but sometimes joining together to resist any attack from without on their privileges or their self- government ; and thus, especially in Lom- bardy and in Tuscany, thriving and warlike cities, each with its own army and its citizen nobles, flourished in opulent pride ; jealously guarding their national honour and freedom, and cherishing an intense feeling of hatred against the strangers from beyond the Alps. The Hohenstauffen Emperors and THE Popes; Guelphs and Ghibelines. For a long time the German Emperors were unable to assert, in any practical form, the rights of dominion they claimed over Italy. Their position in Germany itself was full of difficulty ; for there also the municipal system, as exhibited in the free towns, had taken deep root, and each imperial city jealously. guarded its privi- leges, and was always on the watch to resist encroachment, if necessary at the point of the lance and sword. The con- stitution of the Empire was moreover feudal ; and feudalism always means the supremacy of a powerful nobility. Many a great noble had more real authority, and could bring a greater number of vassals into the field, than the Emperor himself : the character of Richard Neville the King-maker had many representatives at the Courts of the Kaisers. The German imperial crown also was not hereditary but elective ; and though a kind of prescriptive custom kept the diadem in the same family for successive generations, there was always the prospect of its transfer from one great House to another. ^^ Die Kaiser-krone gehtvo?i Stamin, zic Stamtn, sie hat fiir tretie Dienste kein Geddcht- nisz" (The imperial crown goes from race to race. It has no memory for faithful service), says the discontented Swiss noble in Schiller's William Tell. And the Popes took advantage of this circumstance to increase their own power, arrogating to themselves the right of approving or annul- ling the election of an emperor ; and such was the deference paid to them at this period, that they were able to assert this power in the most practical manner. For high and low courted their favour : the 435 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. people, as the protection the Church afforded them against feudal oppression ; the nobles, for the sake of the influence it could exert with their vassals and dependents either in their favour or against them. In the middle of the twelfth century the imperial power in Germany passed into the hands of the great Suabian House, the Hohenstauffen, They were a high-spirited, warlike race. The ruins of their old " Stammburg," or Castle of Stauffen, are still to be seen not far from Stuttgart in Wiirtemberg, the seat of their sway. Conrad III., the first Emperor of the dynasty, after being duly elected, had almost to conquer his kingdom from rebel- lious knights and townsmen ; and the story of the women of Weinsberg has preserved among the people the memory of his clemency as well as of his warlike prowess. It relates how at the siege of the revolted town of Weinsberg, Conrad, exasperated at the obstinate resistance of the place, had vowed to put every man of the garrison to the sword ; but that he acceded to the request of a deputation sent by the women, begging that, according to the custom of war with chivalrous leaders, they might be permitted to quit the doomed town with so much of their personal possessions as they could carry away. Whereupon, to the astonishment of the Emperor and his fol- lowers, they were shortly afterwards seen emerging from the gates of Weinsberg, carrying husbands, fathers, brothers, lovers, and friends on their shoulders. The Em- peror's followers cried out against the trick ; but Conrad, though at first somewhat dis- concerted at the wide interpretation put by the fair dames upon ' ' personal possessions, ' ' presently declared that an Emperor's word ■once given must not be twisted and turned, and that the women of Weinsberg should do as they pleased, and carry off their belongings unmolested. The Suabians had, in their native domains, an allodial possession called Waiblingen, from which they were known as the " Waiblinger." This name, cor- rupted by foreign pronunciation, became converted into the term Ghibeline, and became the designation of those who sup- ported the claims of the German Emperors on Italy. On the other hand, the powerful family of the Welfen, the Dukes of Bavaria, the great opponents of the Suabian House, took every opportunity of thwarting the Ghibeline Emperors in their pretensions and efforts, and assisted and supported all who resisted their authority. Thus the name Welf, corrupted into Guelph, became the war-cry of the faction opposed to the rule of the German Emperors in Italy; and for generations the battle-cry of Guelphs and Ghilbelines resounded throughout the fair fields of the peninsula, — the Guelph adherents being those who supported the sovereign pontiff, and endeavoured by every means to keep away foreign influence and German dominion from Italy, while they upheld municipal government and the great union or confederation of the Lombard cities ; while on the other hand, the Ghibe- line faction was strengthened by many Italians who considered that the future welfare of Italy lay in the establishment of a great imperial power which should unite the strength of the country into one har- monious whole, whereas under the municipal system it was split up and distracted by the quarrels and enmities of a number of separate republics and communities con- tinually at strife with one another. It was the old controversy of the concentrated strength of a dictatorship as against the freedom of individual and independent action. But the feuds of Guelph and Ghi- beline brought lasting calamity and de- gradation, as well as present bloodshed and devastation, upon the fair Italian land. Sicily under the Saracen and the Norman Rule. In the general overturn of authority and the barbaric scramble for power that followed the downfall of the great Roman Empire, the southern portion of the Italian peninsula and the island of Sicily had a different fate from the rest of Europe that came under the dominion of the northern races, whose rule was distinguished by ferocity and savage strength. Like Spain, these two portions of fair Italy fell into the hands of the Saracens, at that time far more enlightened and intellectual than their northern compeers, and thus were decidedly in advance of the rest of Europe in civilization, enlightenment, and polity. A number of states were established on the mainland, independent of each other, and holding their own as best they might against the attacks of northern barbarians and the occasional invasions of the armies of the Greek Emperors. Gradually they adopted the republican form of govern- ment ; and in the effort to maintain them- selves, adopted the method often employed before and after those times by states whose existence was jeopardised by foreign ene- mies. They called in the aid of foreigners, and were undone by their allies. It was a handful of Norman adventurers who, summoned as defenders, established them- selves rulers in Southern Italy and in Sicily in the eleventh century, expelling the Saracens, whose religion and foreign nationality made them hateful to the in- 436 THE SICILIAN VESPERS. habitants of Italy ; and thus was established the feudal dominion of the Normans in Sicily. In this enterprise they had the assistance and countenance of the Church ; for they were looked upon as the champions of the Christian religion against the Moslem infidels ; and their leader, the Norman Count Roger, was invested with the autho- rity of a legate by the Pope at Rome. This gave to their dominion the strength of prescriptive and legitimate authority, and undoubtedly contributed in a marked and valuable degree to its permanence ; just as in former times the Gothic con- querors who established their rule on the ruins of the effete Empire of the West had considered it advisable to have the sanction of a commission and charter from tlie Emperors of Constantinople. The degree of power and independence attained by the different states before their arrival also rendered feudalism in Southern Italy less burdensome and oppressive than elsewhere. The power of the barons was modified and decreased by the prevalence of free municipal institutions among the towns, and could not therefore assert itself, as else- where, in the form of unmitigated military- tyranny. Count Roger ruled over what could almost be considered a free state, judged by the standard of those times ; and the son of the first Count Roger, treading in the footsteps of his father, raised the Norman principality to the rank and dignity of a kingdom; a strong kingdom, moreover, able to defend itself for a long period against the various enemies raised up against it by jealousy and ambition. The monarchs also were able to keep down the power and resist the encroachments of the nobility. The second Roger increased the extent of his dominions by definitely esta- blishing his authority over the other Norman princes in Calabria and Apulia ; and as King of Sicily, Prince of Capua, and Duke of Apulia and Calabria, his authority was recognised by the Pope. Industry, arts and sciences, trade and commerce, flourished throughout the monarchy ; and in the dominion of the Normans in Sicily there was the hope of a national unity, which might in time have raised Italy to the rank of a gieat and harmonious power, able to resist the turbulence of factions from within and the encroachments of ambition from without ; and realised that dream of a great and solid Italian kingdom, in which patriotism saw the best hope of stability and happiness. But this was not to be. Frederick Barbarossa and his Suc- cessors ; Policy of the Popes. The successor of Conrad III. in Germany, the renowned Frederick I., surnamed Bar- barossa, the * ' Kaiser Rothbart ' ' of mediseval story and popular tradition, was undoubtedly one of the greatest historical characters of the twelfth century, and indeed of the middle ages. Since the time of Otho the Great, the sceptre of imperial rule had not been wielded by so sagacious and so determined a hand. In him the whole strength of the Ghibelines was concentrated and personi- fied ; and in his character were found united the great qualities of the warrior and of the statesman. Alike at the council-board and in the field his majestic figure towered above his contemporaries. His reign was long, and his fortunes were varied. At one time he was supreme in authority, and had his rivals at his feet ; at another, he himself was impelled, under the pressure of terrible anxiety and fear of the future and its un- certainties, to kneel before his proud and powerful vassal, Henry the Lion, the head of the Guelph family, imploring the man upon whom he had bestowed the duchies of Bavaria and Saxony not to desert him in his utmost need, — a prayer to which the haughty Guelph, a kind of King-making Warwick in his vast extent of dominion and the number of vassals swayed by his command, remained obstinately deaf; and for this refusal to listen to his master's appeal and to fulfil his feudal duty by following his lord to the war, Henry was obliged at length to pay the penalty in deprivation of his estates, and in long years of foreign exile. The one great aspiration of Barbarossa, and indeed of the Suabian House of which he was the noblest representative, was to consolidate the rule of the German Em- perors beyond the Alps. Long afterwards the politic and cautious Rudolph of Haps- burg, the founder of the great Austrian Power, was accustomed to liken Italy to the lion's den in the ^sopian fable ; for he declared, like the fox in that fable, that he saw traces of the footsteps of many German Emperors and of great German armies going into that region of peril, while few were found returning thence. It was against the league of the Lombard cities that his warlike enterprises were again and again directed ; and it was in the hope of inducing Henry the Lion to follow him into Italy that he had abased himself before his haughty vassal. Milan, the chief in size, wealth, and power among the cities of Northern Italy, was pre- eminently the scene of the struggle he carried on for many years ; and around Milan's walls the battle-cries of Guelphs and Ghibelines sounded continually. The proudest moment of the warlike Emperor's life was perhaps that in which, after a long oiid arduous contest, he triumphantly en- 437 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tered the once stubborn but now humiliated city with a long train of armed followers ; not in the ordinary way, through one of Milan's lofty gates, but through a breach made in the walls ; through which the con- queror passed, in token of his resolution to punish the proud Lombard town that had so long bidden defiance to his authority. One of the greatest causes of the long resistance made by Italy to the claims of the Emperor and his House to dominion in Italy was found in the policy pursued with equal astuteness and perseverance by the popes at Rome. The powerful pontiffs who wore the tiara in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, claimed the fullest authority over the monarchs of Europe and the right of intervention in all great political questions of the time. Consequently they upheld in their resistance any towns or communities that set up the standard of opposition against the Ghibeline Emperors ; and even the mighty Emperor Barbarossa himself was compelled to acknowledge that in an accom- modation with the Pope was his only hope of retaining permanent authority in the peninsula. And on his part the Pope was not indisposed to a compromise, or unwil- ling to acquiesce in the authority of the Emperor in Italy, provided that authority was subordinate to his own, and was avow- edly held and maintained under his sanction. Thus we find Frederick Barbarossa pro- ceedingto Rome to seek the Pontiff's favour and friendship, and consenting to do a deed of vassalage, holding the stirrup of Pope Alexander's mule, in token that he considered himself the Pope's "man," or one bound to render homage and service to him. It was the custom of the Roman rule to hold the balance between Guelphs and Ghibelines, lest either should become independent, and to maintain himself in his position as the umpire and supreme judge among the princes of Europe. While in Northern Italy the German Emperor thus gained an authority, though at best a precarious and unstable one, by the joint exertion of conciliation and arms, he endeavoured to establish his dominion in the south by dynastic successors, and succeeded in bringing about a marriage between his eldest son Henry, afterwards the Emperor Henry VI., and Constance, the Norman heii^ess of Naples and Sicily. Thus the dominion of Sicily passed from the Normans to the German House of the Ho- henstauffen ; thus the Ghibeline ascendency was for a while established in Southern Italy, and for a few short years Henry VI. governed that countiy with undisputed sway. But his nature was harsh, cruel, and vindic- tive ; and by his severities he raised such a storm of indignation agaipst him in Italy, 438 that at his death in 1196 the party of his adversaries was considerably strengthened. Again the strife of Guelphs and Ghibe- lines raged in Italy, and Sicily and Apulia were involved in the struggle. Henry had left an infant son, who afterwards became the Emperor Frederick II. of Germany, to which realm his uncle, Philip of Suabia, had succeeded on the death of Henry VI., though the Pope upheld the pretensions of Otho of Brunswick, the head of the Guelphs, who had been elected by that faction in opposition to Philip, and for a long time maintained his sway over part of Germany. When Frederick was of an age to take the authority into his own hands, he brought about a great and salutary reform in Sicily and Apulia. The magistracy was reformed ; a new code of laws based on that of the Normans, but more adapted to the spirit of the times, was introduced ; the turbulent nobles were kept in check by the warlike and sagacious Emperor, who ruled with a vigour and dexterity that would have done honour to his grandfather the great Bar- barossa himself; the syndics of the various towns were summoned to Parliament, and the foolish and unjust trials by ordeal, which had utterly ceased to command respect or credence, were abolished. The pecuniary resources of the state were also developed by the energetic Emperor, who indeed in- curred considerable blame in this matter ; being accused of taxing his subjects to the verge of tyranny and extortion, for the means of carrying on the foreign wars in which he was frequently engaged. The brilliant success of the Ghibeline Emperor was the reverse of welcome to the Papacy ; for it manifestly involved the dan- ger of a rule in Italy independent of the authority of Rome, and subversive of that subserviency of the temporal powers which it had been the continued effort and desire of the popes to perpetuate. Innocent IV., one of the most vigorous and politic of the occu- pants of the chair of St. Peter, perceived this danger, and also saw the means of combat- ing it ; for the exactions of Frederick had aroused a formidable spirit of discontent throughout ^icilyand Apulia. Accordingly the astute pontiff took advantage of this state of things to rouse the subjects of Frederick to resistance against their master. Everywhere in Sicily, in the Lombard cities of Northern Italy, and in Frederick's Ger- man dominions, the Emperor's vassals were incited to rise against his authority ; and at length Innocent went to the length, at a great council of Lyons, of declaring that the Suabian Emperor had forfeited the im- perial throne, and absolving all Frederick's vassals from their allegiance. The heroic Suabian opposed an undaunted front to all THE SICILIAN VESPERS. enemies, and. met every peril with equal vigour and skill ; but his health was sapped by anxiety and care, and his spirit was heavy at the discovery of the treachery of many trusted friends. He sank into the grave in 1250, his end hastened by disap- pointment and vexation. The death of Frederick greatly strengthened the hands of Innocent IV., who was moreover jealous of the long tenure of imperial power by the Suabian House ; and as the German Empire was elective, he now saw a welcome oppor- tunity for the transfer of the imperial dignity to another family. He exerted his power to the utmost against Conrad IV., the son of Frederick, appearing as an open enemy, and stirring up all the vassals of Conrad to resistance. Liberty and extensive privileges were offered to the citizens of Southern Italy as the price of rebellion against the Ghi- beline. The bishops and clergy were ex- horted to join in the general movement against the enemies of the pontiff; remission of sins was promised to every zealous up- holder of the papal cause ; and Conrad, though he had been elected King of the Romans, was virtually shut out from the enjoyment of real authority. But the party of the Ghibelines in Italy was strong ; and papal denunciations and promises, em- bodied in various briefs and mandates, and all having for their aim the overthrow of the monarchical authority in Southern Italy, did not succeed in entirely accomplishing that object. Manfred ; and Conradin, the last OF THE HOHENSTAUFFEN. In 1254, the Emperor Conrad died, leaving an infant son of the same name, who after- wards became known in history, through a most tragic episode, as Conradin, or the little Conrad. But there was a member of the House of Hohenstauffen, who, though illegitimate by birth, was not likely to allow the honours of that renowned family to be reft from it without a struggle. This was Manfred, a son of the Emperor Frederick TI. and of a noble Italian lady whom the Emperor married after the death of his wife. Manfred fought valiantly to reconquer the country that the Pope had incited to revolt ; and when Innocent IV. died, and was suc- ceeded by the far less energetic Alexander IV., whom the chronicle states to have been "jovial, ruddy, corpulent, and incapable of carrying out the designs of his fiery pre- decessor," the warlike Manfred fought with considerable success to put down the municipal and republican system that had arisen in Sicily and Calabria under the fostering care of the enemies of the Suabian dynasty, and to set up the monarchy once more ; and a more capable and chivalrous champion could scarcely have been found. During the short and troubled reign of Conrad IV., the affairs of Sicily and Cala- bria had been administered by a viceroy, Pietro Ruffo. This man, originally a menial follower of Frederick II., had been raised to high honour and invested with the im- portant of&ce of governor by that monarch, who had a high opinion of his fidelity, valour, and capacity. Conrad had continued the favour shown by his father to Ruffo, whom he created Count of Catanzaro, and retained in his dignity of viceroy. After the death of Conrad, the Governor endeavoured to maintain his authority against the repub- lican movement organized by the Pope ; and afterwards, when his position became critical, entered into negotiations with the Vatican, offering to rule Sicily, if he were allowed to retain his position, as a depen- dency of the Church, and to pay tribute to Rome as a vassal. Manfred's authority he entirely repudiated. But the cities, bent on municipal inde- pendence, would have nothing to do with him ; and the confusion was presently worse confounded by their proclaiming a republic, with Palermo at their head, under the pro- tection of the Church. With the help of an army chiefly consisting of soldiers from Messina, Ruffo gained some slight advan- tages, but was speedily overwhelmed by the united resistance of the cities. Leonardo Alighieri, a member of the family afterwards rendered illustrious by the great name of Dante, was chosen captain of the people. " Success to the municipality ! Down with the viceroy ! " was the cry raised every- where ; and the unfortunate Count of Catanzaro, who had negotiated with all parties, without succeeding in gaining the confidence of any, was fain at last to com- pound for his personal safety by a total abandonment of his ambitious claims, and ultimately hid his shame and humiliation beneath the shelter of the Papal Court at Rome. Palermo, Messina, and various other cities thereupon declared a republic, and the confederation placed itself under the papal protection ; and there was great rejoicing among the Liberal party, various of whose chiefs, long exiled as Guelphs, or opponents of the Suabian House, now re- turned in triumph to their homes. But the new republic had no time to con- solidate its institutions, or to establish itself on a firm and permanent basis. " In times of revolution," Amari justly observes, "men often expect to reap the fruit of a political revolution earlier than nature will yield it, and, finding themselves disappointed, rush into the opposite extreme ; individuals are sundered by envy, and reaction again rears 439 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. its head." There were various great feuda- tories in Sicily and Apulia, whose interests would be better served under a monarchical than under a republican form of government. These rose in support of the pretensions of Manfred ; and in two years the fate of the Republic of Vanity, as Bartholomew of Neocastro contemptuously terms it, was sealed. Frederick Lancia, with one army compelled Calabria to return to its allegiance to the House of Suabia ; Henry Abbate entered Palermo with another ; and after Lancia' s victory on the plain of Corona, not only Calabria but the whole of Sicily sub- mitted to Manfred ; who, after governing for a while in the name of the child Conradin, caused a report of his nephew's death to be spread abroad, and on the nth of August, 1258, had himself crowned in Palermo; assuming the sovereignty of Sicily in his own right as the son and successor of the great Emperor Frederick H. The Pope looks round for a King FOR Sicily ; Charles and Manfred, The establishment of Manfred on the throne of Sicily and Apulia was a sore blow to the Roman Pontiff. Though com- pelled to acknowledge that the Holy See was not sufficiently strong in the material force represented by armies and a well- filled treasury to rule Southern Italy as a direct possession. Innocent II. would have preferred to see those fertile regions in the hands of any potentate rather than under the sway of the hated Ghibeline. Accordingly he revived a scheme already entertained in the time of Frederick II., and looked round for a prince who might conquer Naples under his patronage, and hold the title of king as a vassal of Rome ; thus strengthening the hands of the Guel- phic party in Italy, and increasing the re- spect an'd honour in which the Vicar of Christ was held as the distributer of thrones and principalities. It was in Western Europe that he hoped to find a ruler to his mind for Sicily and Apulia, and consequently he offered the throne first to Duke Richard of Cornwall, brother of the weak and vacillating Henry III. of England ; then to a prince of very different character, Charles of Anjou, brother of the pious Louis IX., " Saint Louis," of France ; and thirdly to Prince Edmund of England, ayoungerson of Henry III. That monarch, at once feeble and extravagant, a lover of splendour and magnificence, and destitute of the knowledge and statesman- ship that would have made him aware of the difficulties of the enterprise, negotiated with Innocent, accepted the investiture for his son, and made every preparation in the way of raising money and troops to carry out the design. But the troubles in which his foolish disregard of the laws and liberties of England involved him with his barons had already begun. The Parliament, then in its infancy, but already putting forth its power to good purpose, compelled him to desist from his enterprise, and Innocent quickly saw that he must choose a prince who possessed more freedom of action and greater material means than the weak King of England could boast. Accordingly he made every exertion to secure Charles of Anjou ; and for this purpose endeavoured by all the arts of cajolery, persuasion, and intimidation, to obtain the consent of Louis IX. to his brother's candidature— repre- senting the undertaking in the light of a crusade against unbelief and rebellion as impersonated in the half heathen Manfred^ who would introduce Saracen customs and the abominations of the infidel into the beautiful land of Italy, and against whom it behoved every Christian potentate to fight, as against a pestilent enemy of the faith. His efforts were ably seconded by the ambition of Charles himself, and of Beatrice, of Provence, the consort of the Duke of Anjou, in whose right Charles had become ruler over vast estates. The three sisters of Beatrice were all queens ; being married respectively to Henry III., King of England,, Louis IX., King of France, and Richard, Earl of Cornwall, who had been nominated "King of the Romans," — a title bestowed on the successor to the German Empire, though in his case it was a title only. It is said that the Countess Beatrice, who at the French Court had suffered a slight in not being permitted to take her place on a raised platform of state, with two of the queens, her sisters, ardently urged her husband to accept the offer made him of a throne, with all its perilous surround- ings ; and that the desire to make Beatrice a queen was a powerful motive with Charles of Anjou, impelling him to use every exertion against Manfred in Sicily. The consent of the King of France was gained, and a bargain was made between Charles of Anjou and Pope Urban IV., and ratified by Clement IV., that Pontiff's successor. It set forth that the Count of Anjou was to^ take possession of Naples and Sicily, witk the exception of Benevento, and was to hold that kingdom as a gift from the Pope, doing service in war as a vassal, and paying a tribute of 8,000 ounces of gold annually. It is only just to add that in the bull which thus gave over the people of Southern Italy to a foreign ruler, some provisions were inserted for the maintenance of their ancient privileges. 440 THE SICILIAN VESPERS. In some of its features, the invasion of -Sicily and Apulia by Charles of Anjou bears an analogy to the invasion of Eng- some of the spoils of the conquered nation. Charles's army consisted in great part of Condottieri and mercenary troops, attracted Naples, and Mount Vesuvius. land by the Normans two centuries before. As in that memorable case, a multitude of adventurers now flocked to the standard set up, each hoping to be rewarded with by the prospect of plunder. Part of the expense of the outfit was borne by Louis of France, and part was defrayed by ex- actions levied from Provence, of which terri- 441 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tory Charles of Anjou had become lord by his marriage with the heiress of the last of its dukes. Beatrice is said to have even pawned her jewels to furnish money for the •enterprise ; and large sums were borrowed by her husband from nobles and merchants. He had a great stake for which to play, and took every precaution to ensure suc- cess. The valiant Manfred fully appreciated the gravity of the situation. He saw the storm that was gathering around his head, and seems to have had little doubt that it would speedily overwhelm him ; but he determined to uphold the hpnour of the Ghibelines, and to fight it out to the last. It was in the summer of 1265 that Charles of Anjou landed in Italy, and Manfred speedily saw that the fidelity of many on whom he had reckoned for aid was not to be trusted. The nobles proved fickle, and showed a disposition to m.ake terms for themselves ; the people, who had been harassed by taxes and forced contributions during the late war, were inclined to hope for some benefit to themselves from a change of government. Manfred gathered together as numerous an army as he could muster, of Germans, Apulians, and of the Saracens of Sicily, whose fortunes were identified with his. Charles had met with no resistance in invading Italy. He had been awarded the rank of a Senator of Rome by the Pope ; and on the 6th of January, 1266, he and Beatrice were crowned at the Vatican as King and Queen ■of Sicily. Manfred's hope was in delay, that should compel Charles to disband his troops ; the Duke of Anjou's prospect of success lay in prompt action, before Man- fred could sufficiently strengthen his forces. The Guelphs of Italy played into the in- vader's hands, and a decisive battle was quickly brought on at Benevento. That day was fatal to the brave Manfred. In spite of the bravery of his German and Sicilian troops, the French had the advan- tage almost from the first ; and the Suabian hero, perceiving that all was lost, sought and found a soldier's death. He fell fight- ing valiantly among his men. His corpse, discovered by the enemy on the field of battle, was at first honourably buried by the soldiers, and a heap of stones was raised over it as a memorial; but the vindictive- ness of the hostile leaders would not accord a soldier's grave to Manfred of Ho- henstauffen. His corpse, to their shame, was dragged from its resting-place and subjected to the grossest ignominy. The triumph of Charles of Anjou was complete, and the fair inheritance of Sicily and Apulia had passed away from the House of Suabia. The Enterprise of Conradin, and ■ ITS Result. The victory of Benevento gave the supre- macy in Italy to the Guelphs, and seated Charles of Anjou on the throne of Naples and Sicily. The usual consequences of a successful invasion followed. The partisans of the victors were rewarded with lands, money, and plunder of various kinds ; and the inhabitants were made to experience the truth, so often exhibited in history and so continually disregarded and forgotten, that the burden of a war ultimately falls upon the people, whichever side may be victorious. They had been angry with Manfred and had fallen away from him on account of the contributions he exacted from them ; but they found their new master far more severe and rapacious ; and the extortions were accompanied by every circumstance of contumely and insult. Accordingly a reaction soon began ; and the Ghibeline party meditated revolt against the authority so suddenly and harshly im- posed upon the land. The young Conradin, son of the Emperor Conrad IV.. was now past the age of childhood. He was un- doubtedly the rightful heir to Sicily and Apulia ; and it was resolved to invite the imperial youth to come to Italy and claim his inheritance. Conradin himself eagerly embraced the proposal. He was sixteen years of age, full of hope and promise, and ardently hoped at once to regain the patrimony of his race, and to raise the name of the great Hohenstauffen House of which he was the last representative. Various partisans took up his cause, in- cluding two princes of the royal family of Castile, Henry and Frederick, who had been fighting in Africa, and in the former of whom unjust treatment and ingratitude on the part of Charles of Anjou had aroused a feeling of revenge. It was in 1267 that Conradin appeared in Italy with an army of some seven or eight thousand men ; and his coming was the signal of open revolt against King Charles throughout Southern Italy. A temporary success gained over Fulk de Puy- Richard, who governed the island of Sicily, gave additional hopes to the Ghibelines and to the partisans of Conradin. But the gallant boy had not the experience or the knowledge to make his authority acknowledged and respected. His army was scanty in number, disorderly and unreliable in action ; and at the ap- proach of Charles of Anjou, many who had at first taken part with Conradin submitted to the French tyranny as the established government ; fearing the result of the Suabian prince's enterprise, and above all 442 THE SICILIAN VESPERS. things dreading the vengeance that would surely overtake them, in case of failure. Still the army of Conradin had sufficiently increased in numbers to warrant him in risking an engagement. He advanced southward with about 20,000 men. At Tagliacozzo, in the plain of San Valentino, the decisive battle was fought, on the 23rd of August, 1268. At first the army of Conradin had the advantage, and fortune seemed to promise the gallant young invader a brilliant triumph over his foes. But here as elsewhere the steady delibe- ration of disciplined valour decided the fate of the day. It was the veteran Alard de Vallery who appeared with the reserve of the French army at the decisive moment, and restored the battle that seemed already lost. The followers of Conradin were thrown into confusion, and their defeat was igno- minious and irretrievable. They were slaughtered by thousands by the victorious army of the French, and Charles, exaspe- rated at the attempt to overthrow his authority, showed no mercy to the pri- soners who fell into his hands. Some Romans were singled out for atrocious vengeance. He had at first ordered that their feet should be cut off ; but fearing that their condition might excite sympathy, and rouse indignation against him, he revoked the command and had them im- prisoned in a house, which was then set on fire. Conradin, who fled from the field, was soon after delivered by treachery, with his friend and partisan the young Duke of Austria, into the victor's hands. Towards his prisoner Conradin Charles behaved with extreme cruelty ; and that cruelty was augmented by a cynical observance of the outward forms of law. A great assembly of lords, syndics, and citizens was convened for the trial of the unfortunate youth whose attempt to regain his own had ended so disastrously. By this tribunal, whose judges were too completely under the influence of Charles of Anjou to dare to oppose his will, Conradin and his companions were pro- nounced guilty of high treason, in levying war against a sovereign prince. Only one of the council, the famous lawyer Guidone da Suzara, dared to record his protest against the proceedings of Charles, and to pronounce an opinion in favour of the prisoner. On the 29th of October, 1268, a scaffold covered with scarlet cloth was erected in the market-place at Naples ; and the last descendant of the mighty race of monarchs who had swayed the sceptre of Germany for more than a century, was led forth, with a train of his friends and followers, to die. He bore himself on the occasion with a fearless dignity worthy of the proud race of the Hohenstauffen. He indignantly repudiated the charge brought against him of sacrilege and treason, and looked round with bitter scorn on the venal crowd who had doomed him to death at a tyrant's behest. A feeling of mingled shame and horror seized the spectators of this mournful and tragic sacrifice. The Count of Flanders, who was present on the scaffold, though a son-in-law of Charles, was seized with such fury at the sight, that he suddenly killed the man who had framed the iniquitous sentence and read it aloud on the scaffold. It is told, also, that Conradin, before stooping his neck to the axe, flung his glove over the rail as a token that he bequeathed his rights as well as the task of avenging his death to Peter of Anjou, the son-in-law of Manfred. Other details are related, such as Conradin' s taking up the severed head of his friend the young Duke, and kissing the lifeless lips ; but these rest rather on tradition than on a reliable basis. The last page in the history of the Hohenstauffen is one of the most mournful in history. Oppression exercised by the new Government; Charles of Anjou AND his Rule. A reign of terror now began throughout Apulia and Sicily. The partisans of Charles of Anjou hastened to show their zeal ; the nobles and citizens whose sentiments were doubtful endeavoured to clear themselves from suspicion by executing vengeance upon all who had been concerned in the late rebellion. A frenzy of cruelty appears to have seized upon the agents and partisans of the monarchy. " They confiscated, they plundered," says the historian, "they blinded, they tortured, till Charles himself checked the inhuman zeal which was reduc- ing the kingdom to a desert, and at length vouchsafed to forgive. But for the Sicilians there was no mercy." Among the warlike leaders who executed vengeance upon the unhappy island, one William I'Estendard is described as more cruel than cruelty itself; " Drunk with blood," says Saba Malaspina, "and thirsting for it the more fiercely the more he shed." One of the most horrible stories of those times is that of the siege of Agosta, the one place that held out after all the other strongholds of the Ghibelines had surrendered in despair. L'Estendard and his men became masters of the town through the treachery of six of the in- habitants, who opened a postern gate to them in the night. The place was given up to the violence of the soldiers, who, according to the custom of the middle ages, and, unhappily, of later times also, slew and plundered, murdering the inhabitants with- 443 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. out distinction of age or sex. But after the vengeance of the soldiery had been satiated, and when no object was to be gained by a further exhibition of cruelty, in the mere wantonness of savagery, the brutal leader caused the captive citizens of Agosta to be brought bound into his presence, and had them put to death by a gigantic executioner, who went about his work of butchery in the style of the " Septembriseurs " of 1792 in Paris, the heads and bodies of the victims being gathered into a great pile. Never was a massacre more purposeless. The un- happy town was literally emptied of its iuhabitants ; and the memory of the deeds done there remained rankling in the hearts of the dwellers in every part of the island, and had doubtless much to do with the tremendous vengeance executed some years afterwards. " These inhuman butcheries and equally inhuman triumphs," says the latest commentator on the events of that period, "are passed over by the greater number of the historians who so studiously dilate upon the massacre of the Vespers, which was but measure for measure." " VcB victis I" might have been written on every habitation of the captured island. The effect of the revolt had been to impose a heavier yoke than ever on the unhappy country, which was now vexed by exactions, in which no distinction was made between the partisans of the rulers and their oppo- nents ; for an equal oppression weighed upon all. The naturally cruel and vindic- tive temper of Charles had been exasperated by the i^esistance he met with, and his suspicious nature saw the means of safety only in thoroughly keeping down the people to whom he knew his rule to be hateful ; and thus, for a series of years, the materials of hatred and vengeance were smouldering among the inhabitants of Southern Italy : kept down for a time by fear, but certain to burst forth, sooner or later, into conflagra- tion. The brave Manfred had left three sons, Henry, Frederick, and Enzo. These children were kept in strict imprisonment by the conqueror. Documents found in the archives of Naples prove them to have been still living and in captivity in the year 1299 ; and their confinement probably only terminated with their lives. There was, however, another scion of the Suabian House, and one who was not in the power of the savage victor. This was Constance, daughter of Manfred, and wife of Peter, King of Aragon, the prince to whom Con- radin on the scaffold had bequeathed his rights and his vengeance. Charles of Anjou soon made enemies in every direction ; and especially aroused against himself the very important hostility of the Church. He broke the promises he had made to Pope Clement regarding the privileges and immunities of the eccle- siastics, for his insatiable rapacity drove him, like John of England to "shake the bags of hoarding abbots," and to extort money wherever it was to be had. The powerful associations of the Templars and Hospitallers were also roused to enmity by exaction. The feudatories, too, were harassed by means similar to those em- ployed in England at a later date by Emp- som and Dudley ; inquisition being made into title-deeds of demesnes and baronies, with total disregard of the prescriptive right arising from long possession ; and thus Charles obtained the opportunity of trans- ferring many a fair estate from its owner to a follower of his own, who held it on feudal tenure. The customary practice of sub- tenure was followed, and thus each foreign master was surrounded by French soldier- followers, whose petulant and licentious manners, total disregard of justice in deal- ing with the natives, and openly expressed contempt of them as a conquered people, added to the general mass of hatred that was accumulating in secret. Impressive warnings and counsels addressed to Charles by Pope Clement, who exhorted him to be content with the taxes he could justly claim, and to leave his subjects free, were disre- garded by the despot, whose collectors practised every kind of injustice, fraud, and extortion in the districts they visited. The unfortunate peasants, unable to pay the sums demanded of them, were deprived of all they possessed, even to their implements of husbandly, and dragged off to bondage in loathsome prisons. " Oh, that they would but leave a bit of bread to the cul- tivators ! " thus run the words of a pathetic remonstrance of the civilians; "would they but be content to eat, instead of devouring \ But no ; the owner can neither secure the goods, nor can the goods secure the owner. . . . We are hardly allowed to fight with the crows for the carrion." The exactions upon the rich were equally general ; while oppressive monopolies fettered the action and development of trade and commerce ; and frequent loans exacted from the cities increased the general discontent. A new coinage was introduced, and the people were compelled to receive the " Carolines " at a rate much above their real value. The most oppressive features of feudalism were introduced ; the game laws and forest laws were enforced with increased severity. The King claimed and carried to its fullest extent the right of bestowing heiresses to great fiefs and estates in marriage, thus obtaining large sums from noble ladies that they might not become the wives of some of the lowest partisans of the King, to whom 444 THE SICILIAN VESPERS. he had adjudged them, or for the removal of the royal prohibition against marriages they were desirous to contract. It would be an endless task to enumerate all the particulars of oppression and wrong that afflicted the unhappy countries under the dominion of Charles of Anjou. The mon- arch, considering himself strong in the allegiance of those who participated in his ill-gotten gains, and in the terror his savage cruelties had inspired, seems to have had no idea that vengeance could overtake him from the wrath of the oppressed people. He seems to have judged the Sicilians and Apulians by the standard of his own country ; forgetting that the Italians had been used to a far greater measure of liberty, and were more quick to feel and resent wrongs, than the lower classes among his own countrymen. The Age of Conspiracy and Intrigue; Peter of Aragon and John of Procida. The two ruling passions of the life of Charles of Anjou were ambition and avarice. It has been rightly said of him that he saw in wealth only a source of power, and in power only a source of wealth. Utterly unscrupulous and devoid of any sense of justice, he made use of any and every means to increase his riches and widen his domin- ions ; and, possessed of talents, valour, and determination far beyond most of his con- temporaries, he contrived to turn to his own advantage the circumstances and events by which others were governed. In the chief features of his character he presented a striking contrast to his brother, Louis IX. of France, a mild and just prince, filled with a pious and romantic enthusiasm. Not unfrequently Charles took advantage, for his own purposes, of the religious zeal of his brother. When his power was to all appearance firmly established in Southern Italy and Sicily, his ambition soared with a stronger wing, and he meditated new triumphs and conquests. His aim was to extend his dominion over Upper Italy, and ultimately over the Greek Empire ; trusting for success to the political dissensions in the former country, and to the contests of two rival families, represented by Baldwin, Count of Flanders, and the usurper Michael Paloeologus, in the latter. For .a time he was diverted from these schemes "by Louis, who compelled him to take part in that crusade which terminated so disas- trously with the pious king's death at Tunis. Charles arrived with his forces in Africa at the very moment of his brother's death ; and turned that calamity to his own profit by an advantageous treaty with the King of Tunis, stipulating that the crusa- ders should retire, but that he himself should receive an augmented tribute and a large sum of ready money. He then took up the cause of Baldwin, who had been driven from Constantinople, promising to lead an army against the usurper Palceologus ; in return for which he was to receive a third of the conquered territory, and the reversion of the throne of Constantinople itself if the direct line of succession failed. He also affianced his infant daughter, Beatrice, to Baldwin's heir, Philip. In Italy he had become so powerful that he utterly disregarded the stipulations originally made with the Pope, and per- petrated the greatest violence and injus- tice, attacking Genoa and other states, and upholding his agents and followers in the commission of the worst crimes. Thus he inflicted no greater punishment than a reproof upon Guy de Montfort, son of the famous Simon, Earl of Leicester, when the said Guy, in revenge for the fate of his father, with his own hand murdered Prince Henry, son of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, and nephew to King Henry III., in the church at Viterbo. By force or by fraud, he managed to obtain power in Northern Italy ; and the see of Rome beheld with affright its supremacy menaced by the man upon whom it had bestowed the kingdom of Apulia and Sicily. Then it was that the celebrated scheme for the liberation of Sicily was promulgated, which was rendered famous in history by the name of John of Procida. This able and energetic man was an Italian noble, who had stood high in the favour of the Emperor Frederick II. and of the warlike Manfred. He had considerable reputation for scientific knowledge,' and was justly accounted one of the most learned and astute of the men of his time. After the cause of the Ghibeline party was lost in Italy, he took refuge at the Court of Peter of Aragon. His estates had been con- fiscated by Charles of Anjou ; and it is said that insults to his personal honour increased his natural desire for revenge. Queen Constance received him with wel- come as a faithful friend and supporter of her late father ; and John of Procida soon gained the favour and confidence of her husband, the King Peter. With two other noble exiles, Roger Loria and Conrad Lancia, he contrived to persuade Peter that the conquest of the Kingdom of Sicily was a practicable, as it certainly must be a glorious, enterprise. They could count upon the influence of the Pope, who was bitterly displeased at the faithlessness and arrogance of Charles ; on the help of Michael Paloeologus, whom he undertook 445 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. to convince of the danger that would threaten his own throne so long as Charles, the insatiably ambitious, occupied that of Sicily ; and, above all, on the exertions of the Sicilians themselves, among whom the tyranny of Charles and the horrible malad- ministration and injustice of his govern- ment had excited universal hatred. Each of the powers could contribute an important element to the contest : Michael Paloeo- logus could find gold ; the King of Aragon would be able to furnish troops ; and the Pope would work for them with the spiritual weapons of ban and excommunication, which in those days had a powerful in- fluence on men's minds. There has of late been considerable doubt cast on the accounts of the transactions of this time as related by the earlier his- torians, who represent John of Procida as the head and the chief agent in the great conspiracy for the dethronement of Charles of Anjou. Certain it is, however, that he was very active in bringing about an under- standing between the King of Aragon, the Greek Emperor, and the Pope, who also desired to see the power of Charles of Anjou overthrown. The circumstances appearing favourable for an effort, Peter of Aragon began to make extensive pre- parations for war, ostensibly against the Saracens in Africa. He made a five years' truce with the King of Granada, put his country in a complete state of defence, and provided himself with "the sinews of war" in the shape of ample funds. The Pope, Nicholas III., whom Charles of Anjou had converted into an enemy by his violent pro- ceedings, looked with favour on the enter- prise of Peter; which might have been brought to an issue at once but for the death of the Pontiff in 1280. This was a great blow to the conspirators. By this time also the preparations of Peter, in spite of his attempts to keep them secret, had been noised abroad ; and Charles of Anjou became suspicious as to the inten- tions of the Spanish king. Charles had never been wanting in determination, or in the faculty of seizing upon a favourable moment. He saw the opportunity afforded him by the death of Nicholas III. ; and in defiance of all public opinion, he imprisoned three cardinals of the house of Orsini whom he considered inimical to his interests, and so closely pressed the others, when the duty of electing a successor to Nicholas came before them, that a Frenchman and a tool of his own was chosen in the person of Martin V., in February 1281 ; and thus the scale seemed again to have turned in his favour. He now began extensive prepa- rations for carrying out his designs in the East, under pretext of taking the cross for the recovery of the Holy Land. Bartholo- mew of Neocastro describes this as "the cross of the thief, not that of Christ!" With the Pope thoroughly in his interest, and only Peter of Aragon to oppose him, he had not the slightest doubt of success. But in Italy the national feeling was against him ; and there were many even of the Guelphic faction to whom the idea of the rule of a Frenchman was odious. At a later period even Dante, at first a Guelph, became converted to the idea of the power and unity of Italy under the rule of a German Emperor, and thus we find him, in his im- mortal epic, welcoming Henry VII. ot Luxemburg, who renewed the designs ot the Hohenstauffen, as the liberator of his country from internal strife and consequent weakness. From day to day the antagonism between the French and the Latin race became more embittered ; and the detesta- tion in which the arrogant rule of Charles was held was increased by the appointment of the cruel and merciless William I'Es- tendard to the office of Charles's deputy in Rome. The cup of iniquity and oppression was almost full. Deeming themselves secure in their ascendency, the followers of Charles of Anjou perpetrated every kind of wrong on the people subject to them, un- mindful of the slumbering ferocity in the Italian character, that might at any time burst forth into a flame. Here and there warning voices were raised to predict the calamity that would happen, when the temper of the people should be tried beyond all bearing, and when the time came at which endurance should suddenly end. Very remarkable are the words uttered by the good and learned Bertrando, Arch- bishop of Cosenza. "He who lives long enough," said this wise priest "shall see adversaries of abject condition rise up against these proud oppressors, expel them from the kingdom, and destroy their do- minion ; and the time will come when he who slays a Frenchman will deem that he is offering a pleasing sacrifice to God." The Massacre of Easter Tuesday,, 1282. Palermo, the ancient capital of Sicily, was the place where the tyranny of the Angevin King and his satellites appeared in its most odious colours. John of St. Remigia, the Justiciary who ruled in the name of Charles, with a number of subor- dinate officers, carried out his master's system of terrorism and coercion with an exaggeration of tyranny almost inconceiv- able, and the very submissiveness of the people seemed to inflame his cruelty. The Easter festival, regarded in those devout 446 THE SICILIAN VESPERS. if ignorant days with especial veneration, was chosen by the Justiciary and his men for the display of their relentless spirit. Men who had failed to pay their propor- tion of the taxes were dragged from the churches where they were praying and cast into prison in chains. The insulting name, "Paterini," was applied to the people in jeering contempt of their dependent condi- tion. But Easter Day, with the week it ushers in, is a season of joy ; and the or stood chatting in groups, while some made merry at the tables with meat and wine, and others danced upon the greensward. But suddenly the harmony of the meeting — it was at the hour of vespers — ^was disturbed by the appearance of some officers of the Justiciary. These men appeared angry at the cheerfulness displayed by the people, and proceeded rudely to- interfere with them, under the pretext of maintaining order. They forced SCENt ON THE COAST OF THE GuLF OF GeNOA. Sicilians, who have all the elasticity of the Southern character, seemed for a time to have forgotten the bitterness of their servitude; and on that Tuesday the 31st of March, 1282, many of the inhabitants of Palermo had assembled near a church dedicated to the Holy Spirit, about half a mile from the southern wall of the city. On the open space near the church, now enclosed as a cemetery, tables and benches had been placed, as for a feast, and the people from the city walked to and fro, their way noisily among the chatting and dancing groups, accosted the women with coarse barrack-room jests, and insulted them with unseemly behaviour. Temper- ately remonstrated with at first, they per- sisted in their annoyance, until such a threatening murmur arose among the younger men that the soldiers declared " these paterini must be armed, or they would not dare to speak out so loud." Accordingly they began to hustle and strike them, and insisted upon searching 447 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. them for hidden weapons. In mere bravado, or with a hideous relish of the pain and humiliation they w:ere causing-, they added all possible insult to these violent proceed- ings. One of them, whose name history has preserved for infamy, seized a young woman of great beauty and of modest and dignified bearing, and proceeded in an in- sulting manner to search her. She sank fainting into her husband's arms. Then the fierce Southern nature suddenly sprang up, and the submission of years was in an in- stant, cast to the winds. A fierce shout of "Death to the French!" arose from a hundred voices, and a youth rushed from the crowd and laid the insulting French- man dead at his feet. A still fiercer yell greeted this summary act of vengeance. It seemed as though an electric spark had kindled the spirit of the people. " Death, death to the French!" resounded again and again, now taken up as a battle-cry ; and in another moment the people and their oppressors were in fierce conflict. Of the citizens many perished ; but though they .had only sticks, stones, and knives to oppose ±0 the warlike weapons of the soldiers, and the courage of hatred and despair where- with to combat their discipline, they pre- vailed in the end. The corpse of Drouet was hidden under heaps of the slain, who fell on both sides ; but the victory remained with the citizens, — for two hundred French- men were present when the death-struggle began, and when it ended every one of those two hundred was stretched lifeless on the plain. But the slaughter on their own side had been immense ; and, indeed, it could not be otherwise, the inequality of the conflict considered. The sight of the corpses of brothers, fathers, and sons roused the sur- vivors to still greater fury. The throng rushed back into the city brandishing their bloody weapons, and more fiercely than ever rose the shout, "Death to the French ! " Through the streets they ran, their numbers continually increased by fresh accessions ; and a spectacle of horror ensued, such as is seen when a city is taken by assault. The houses of the French were broken open, and the occupants dragged forth and poniarded. Women and children were included in the fierce vengeance of that moment of madness. The massacre con- tinued until darkness put an end to it for the time, only to be resumed with un- diminished fury on the morrow. The castle of the Justiciary was surrounded by a raging mob, clamouring for his blood. With fierce imprecations they stormed that "Bastile" of Italy; but the Justiciary contrived to escape, with two attendants, and to get out of the city. When the massacre ended for want of victims, two* thousand French had been slain. In the case of persons whose nationality was doubtful, they were made to pronounce the word " ciciri," and those who uttered it with a foreign accent were at once pat to death. The convents were broken open, and the French friars were slain. The memory of the massacre of Agosta seemed to have quenched every feeling of humanity and pity in the breasts of the Sicilians ; and horrible instances of cruelty and ferocity occurred. The historian of these events finds in the wrongs inflicted on Sicily an extenu- ation for the atrocity of the reprisals. " I do not blush for my country at the remem- brance of the Vespers," he says, "but bewail the dire necessity which drove Sicily to such extremities — bleeding and tortured, consumed by hunger, trampled underfoot, and insulted in all she held most precious." In one respect the completeness of the massacre proved of high political import- ance. The people had gone too far for any hope of forgiveness. There was no possi- bility of compromise with Charles, and in speedy action lay the only chance of life and safety. A parliament at once assem- bled, abolished monarchy, and proclaimed a republic. Messina, astonished and be- wildered at first, after a few weeks made common cause with Palermo, and slew or drove away the Frenchmen resident within its walls. Charles of Anjou, who was at that time staying at Ovieto, was filled with rage at the news of the massacre at Palermo and Messina, and at once turned the force he had assembled for the Greek war against the insurgents. He besieged Messina, and might have obtained submission but that the citizens knew that submission to such a man meant death. They determined to resist to the last man ; and before Charles could conquer them, Peter of Aragon ap- peared with an army, and landed at Trapani in Sicily. The strife was long and arduous ; but in the end Peter triumphed, and he and his wife Constance were crowned as King and Queen of Sicily. Thus tyranny and oppression cost the House of Anjou the fair dominion of Italy. H. W. D. 448 The Embarkation of William of Orange at Helvoetsluys for Torbay. FROM TORBAY TO ST. JAMES'S. THE STORY OF THE REVOLUTION OF 1688. "This revolution, of all revolutions the least violent, has been of all revolutions the most beneficent. . . It is because we had this preserving revolution in the seventeenth century that we have not had a destroying revolution in the nineteenth . . . For the authority of law, for the security of property, for the peace of our streets, for the happiness of our homes, our gratitude is due, under Him who raises and pulls down nations at His pleasure, to the Long Parliament, to the Convention, and to William of Orange. — Lord Macaulay. Torbay — An Eventful Week — James's Early Designs — His First Parliament — Revenge on Titus Oates — The Insurrections in the North and West ; The Battle of Sedgemoor — The " Bloody Assizes " — Persecution of the Nonconformists — The Dispensing Power — Trial of Sir Edward Hales — James coerces the Universities — The First Declaration of Indulgence — The Child of Prayer — The Second Declaration of Indulgence — The Prayer of the Prelates — The Trial of the Seven Bishops — For Parliament and Protestantism — William enters Exeter ; Marches on Salisbury — Defections from James — The King escapes, is captured, and again flies — William enters St. James's Palace — Conclusion. TORBAY. WAY down on the east coast of Devon- shire, where the wild Atlcintic waves, as yet unchecked by the narrows of the Channel, still roll in long and unbroken billows on the pebbly beach, lies a wide and spacious harbour, well-known from time immemorial as a safe and sure anchorage in times of storm and stress. For many years its smooth waters were scarcely cut by a keel larger than that of a fishing-smack, and the wide amphitheatre of grassy rocks rising around remained desolate and deserted, save for the huts of a few fish- ermen and farm-labourers. But one mild morning in the month of November 1688, the silence of years was suddenly broken, and a large fleet rounded the lofty promontory at its south-western extremity, and rode securely at anchor within its peaceful limits. The shores, once so lonely and deserted, were now crowded by numbers of anxious and excited people, who had thronged from all parts to witness the disembarkation from the fleet ; and as boats put off from the ships, and soldiers, speaking for the most part a strange tongue, landed on the stony shore, they were welcomed with loud huzzas, and overwhelmed with offers of assistance. It was more like the home-coming of a victorious prince than the invasion of a foreign army. Yet such, we suppose, it must be called, for the ships and most of the soldiers were Dutch ; and although English royal blood ran in the veins of their leader, William, Prince of Orange, yet he had come to wrest the 449 C G EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. throne from its possessor, and to establish himself thereon instead. But he came at the invitation of the people, who were still full of bitterness when they remembered the Bloody Assizes and the cowardly cruelties of the King ; he came as the champion of liberty and the defender of Protestantism ; he came, if possible, to end once for all the weary con- test which had so long been waged between the English sovereign and his subjects, — the Stuart princes and their people. How time changes all things ! Where once the wild bee hummed over the thyme-scented grass of those quiet sunny slopes ; where once William of Orange landed on the stony shore amid the huzzas of English Protestants, now stands the thriving town of Brixham, and in the quay is still shown a certain stone which they say is the veritable piece of rock on which he first stepped ashore, while at the north- western extremity of the bay flourishes the fair town of Torquay, famous everywhere for the beautiful softness of its air and the mildness of its climate. It was thus that Torbay was awakened from the sleep of centuries, and became for ever famous in our "rough island story." Let us now endeavour to set forth the causes which led to the landing of the Prince of Orange, and the errors which had so com- pletely alienated the hearts of the English people from their sovereign. To do so we must glance at the chief events of the reign of that sovereign — James II. An Eventful Week. We said just now that it was hoped the coming of the Prince of Orange would ter- minate the contest between the English sovereign and his subjects. That contest, in short, was for parliamentary power and for the Protestant religion. The Stuart kings were all cursed with an insane desire for absolute power, and blinded by their belief in their "divine right" to rule and do as they pleased with their subjects. To this mad desire for despotic rule, James added a desperate determination to overturn the Pro- testant religion, and make England a province of the Pope. It was known that he was an avowed Romanist, and during the previous reign certain members of parliament had brought forward a Bill to exclude him from the throne. By reason of the support of the Episcopalians the Bill was thrown out, and James laid up schemes of vengeance in his heart, — schemes which he executed with only too great success when he came to the throne. Still there were many men whose faces turned pale as they remembered the dreadful doings of the last Romanist sovereign of England, and knowing the autocratic and unreasoning temper of the Stuart race, feared for a return of the fires of Smithfield and the Torture Chamber of the Tower. His accession came somewhat suddenly upon the country, for only a few days before, on Sunday morning the ist of February, 1685, the shameless sovereign known as the " Merrie Monarch" was still well and pre- sumably happy, and both he and his people looked forward to a lengthened reign. But on this day, as he was laughing gaily with his three favourite court ladies in the great gallery at Whitehall, and listening with languid pleasure to the love-songs sung by a little French page, suddenly, in the midst of his Sunday revel, he was stricken with a severe sickness. He reeled, strove to rally, and finally tottered to his bed-chamber. Next morning, as he was dressing, he was seized with a fit of apoplexy, and for five days his life trembled in the balance. On Wednesday he was better, and joy-bells pealed throughout the land, for the people feared the accession of his brother, James, Duke of York. But at noon on Friday, the 6th of February, he died ; and a quarter of an hour afterwards the new King made his first speech to the Council, in which he declared his determi- nation to rule according to the tenets of the Reformed Church. During the same after- noon James II. was proclaimed as king from Whitehall Gate, Temple Bar, and the Ex- change, and thus within a week the whole course of events was changed, and an avowed Romanist ruled on the English throne. James's Early Designs. Notwithstanding the King's declaration at the meeting of the Privy Council, it was not long before he showed himself in his true colours. On the second Sunday after his accession he went publicly to mass, and ordered the doors of the chapel to be flung open, so that he might be seen kneeling before the altar. He encouraged Romanists to flock to Court, so much so that even Evelyn says in his Diary the Romanists " were swarming at Court with greater con- fidence than had been ever seen in England since the Reformation, so that everybody grew jealous as to what this would tend." Still further he caused his hatred of freedom to find vent in a special letter which he sent to the "Estates of Scotland," by which it was enacted that if any person should preach or attend a conventicle under a roof or in the open air, he should be liable to the punish- ment of death, and all his goods and lands should be confiscate ! Romanists were released from prison in thousands, and every favour was shown to them. Many were given high appointments in the army and public service. This was in direct defiance of the Test Act, which 450 FROM TORE A V TO ST. /AMES'S. liad been passed in the previous reign, and provided that all persons holding public ap- pointments should take an oath against transubstantiation. A Papal nuncio vs^as entertained at Court, and Father Edward Petre, one of the most active of the Jesuits, became the confidential adviser of the King. In short, although it was gradually and by slow degrees at first, he began to unfold the grand design of his reign, which was not only to rule as a despotic prince, but to completely restore the Romish worship in England, and to crush all freedom, not only of speech and action, but also of thought out of the land. One of his first aims was to become omni- potent in the House of Commons. The Commons of England have always been a difficulty with our autocratic kings, and in the long run they have generally forced the sovereign to submit ; for although in the far past the prerogatives of the prince were ex- ceedingly extensive, yet the consent of the Commons was necessary to both legislation and taxation. And as a rule, whenever the sovereign endeavoured to pass laws or levy taxes vvithout their co-operation, they have not only failed miserably, but in the end have had to confess themselves beaten. At the time of the accession of James, however, the representation of the people was almost entirely in his hands. The municipal charters imposed by Charles enabled the sovereign to practically secure the return of any member he chose for the boroughs, while the county members were almost certain to be extreme Tories, who considered it part of their religion to believe in " divine right," and a religious duty to support the King at all risks, and supply all the money he asked for. But even before James summoned a par- liament, his determination to rule with despotic power showed itself most unmis- takably. He put forth an edict declaring it to be his will and pleasure that certain custom-duties given only to the late King for life should still be paid, although accord- ing to the fundamental law of the realm no duties could be levied without an Act of Par- liament. James was urged to take this course by Chief Justice Jeffreys, whom he had caused his brother, the late King, to appoint, and who undoubtedly was the greatest ruffian who ever wore the ermine. His brutal nature was precisely of that character which tyrants require to carry out their worst designs, and James had been on the throne but a few days when this abandoned wretch was raised to a peerage and a seat in the Cabinet. The whole of the legal patronage was in his hands, and his selection by James reveals still more clearly his determination to have the whole of England under his thumb, to rule it with a rod of iron. James put off the general election as long as he could, for, to tell the shameful truth, he was afraid of the displeasure of Louis of France. This king greatly feared t'"e English Parhament, whose policy and in- fluence he believed to be antagonistic to his growing power on the Continent. He had therefore paid Charles II. large sums to keep his Commons quiet. The same course was pursued with James, and the shameless tyrant was thus the virtual vassal and paid partizan of the French king. But there were signs that although the nation was now quiet enough, discontent was beginning to show itself, and unless a parliament were soon summoned there was every probability of a decided outbreak. Moreover James wanted to have certain large revenues settled on him for life. The summons for the Parliament was therefore sent out, and at the same time James sent messages to Louis inform- ing him that he would certainly keep the Commons from meddling with foreign affairs, and prevent them from getting into mischief. The immediate result of this message was that large sums of money found their way from Louis of France into the coffers of King James, who received the money with tears of joy and words of abject gratitude. He then proceeded to fill the House of Commons with representatives who would be slaves of his will. The most illegal pressure was put upon the voters to return James's candidates. Never was there an election so shamelessly conducted : the clergy were ordered to pro- claim from their pulpits that the righteous wrath of God would descend upon any one who voted for a Whig candidate ; and the re- turning officers were all bribed to act in the interests of the Court. Evelyn, in his Dt'arj, writes under date May loth, 1685: "Elec- tions were thought to be very indirectly carried on in most places. God grant a better issue of it than some expect." And again on May 22nd : " The truth is there were many of the new members whose elec- tions and returns were universally censured." The result of the elections was, in truth, far more favourable to James than ever he had dared to hope ; but we might almost say that it was one of the first of the series of steps which led to his downfall, for there were many royalists who had fought and bled for his father who stood aghast at the shameless manner in which the almost universal return of James's candidates had been secured. James's First Parliament, The session opened on the 19th May, and with very little delay the subservient parlia- ment settled on the King for life the whole 451 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. of the revenues previously enjoyed by King Charles. A few days after this, however, they passed two resolutions : " To stand by His Majesty ... for the defence and support of the Church of England;" and the other was to petition the King to "put into exe- cution the laws against all dissenters whoso- ever from the Church of England." As these laws would operate against Romanists as well as Puritans, James was highly indig- nant. He was willing enough to take ad- vantage of the Toryism of the Episcopalians to answer his own purpose, but he had no notion of their acting on the initiative in any way or petitioning against the members of his own Church. He therefore issued orders to rescind these resolutions, which the servile House did immediately, and shortly after sub- mitted to be adjourned sine die. James, having obtained a servile Parlia- ment, now proceeded to curb the power of the Established Church, and to advance the spread of Popery. Naturally the clergy were much alarmed at the rise of Romanism, and many of them fiercely denounced the "Scarlet Lady," as they called the Church of Rome, from their pulpits. James, in high dis- pleasure, sent for certain of the bishops, and sternly commanded them to put an end to all such preaching, and for a time he was successful. But the sturdy Nonconformists required stronger treatment. Thus Richard Baxter, the venerable and pious Puritan divine, was heavily fined and imprisoned, and the odious Five Mile Act— by which no dissenter could hve within five miles of any town — was rigidly enforced. The Trial of Titus Gates. Then James bethought him of revenge, and Titus Gates, the infamous perjurer who had given false evidence of a Popish plot, and had grievously libelled James, in the pre- vious reign, was brought to trial. Un- doubtedly Gates was a deeply dyed villain and well deserving of punishment, but his sentence savours more of cruel revenge than justice. He was sentenced to be first pil- loried at the Royal Exchange, then in Palace Yard ; then he was to be whipped from Aid- gate to Newgate on one day, and then from Newgate to Tyburn within the next forty- eight hours. He was to be imprisoned for life, and five times every year he was to be pilloried. Intercession was made to James to remit the second flogging. The King's reply was characteristic : " He shall go through with it, if he has breath in his body." And Gates did go through with it, and received more than seventeen hundi'ed lashes, every one of which drew blood. The groans and shrieks of the wretched criminal were enough to have pierced the stoniest heart. Many times he swooned, and had to be dragged to Tyburn on a sledge. Under the tyrant James fearful floggings of this kind soon became quite common for the smallest of political offences, until the Petition of Rights under William of Grange stopped this, together with all cruel punishments. The Insurrections in the North and West; The Battle of Sedgemoor. The Dukes of Argyle and Monmouth, who were now exiles in Holland because of their attempts in the previous reign to limit the despotic power of Charles, thought this a favourable opportunity to raise again the standard of liberty and Protestantism. Their partizans in England and Scotland supplied money and assured them that whenever they appeared, the country would rise as one man to overturn the Popish king. Moreover, Argyle counted upon the support of the persecuted Presbyterians of Scotland, and Monmouth relied upon the Protestants of the west and the belief, which many persons held, that he was the rightful heir to the throne. He was, in fact, the illegitimate son of Charles II. and- Lucy Walters, a Welsh girl ; but there were several stories in circulation of a secret mar- riage having taken place, and there were many who credited the story and honestly believed him to be the true heir to the throne. It is not within the scope of this paper to give a detailed account of these ill-advised insurrections. Both failed utterly and mise- rably. Both leaders were captured and speedily executed. The battle of Sedgemoor, in which Monmouth's hopes were crushed, is memo- rable as being the last fought on English soil. But although it is not necessary to our pur- pose to refer more particularly to the details of these revolts, the cruelty with which James punished the rebels must be noticed, as afford- ing another link in the chain of evil and tyrannical deeds which finally alienated from him the hearts of even his most devoted adherents. The Bloody Assizes. Among the first of the victims was Abraham Holmes, one of Cromwell's Ironsides. He had been an officer in the Protector's own regi- ment, and was one of those to whom the idea of a Popish king being the head of the Protes- tant Church was nothing short of blasphemy. Hewouldacknowledge noking and no superior —in spiritual matters at least — but King Jesus. When examined in London before the Privy Council he said boldly that he had fought against the tyrant James Stuart even as he had fought under Cromwell against his father, Charles Stuart, and if he had the chance he would certainly fight again. When told that if he would give certain information his life should be spared, the stern old soldier 452 FROM TORE AY TO ST. JAMES'S. replied : " Not I. Cromwell's Ironsides never submit, and never turn against their com- rades." He was taken back to Bridgewater and there hanged. To Judge Jeffreys was given the task of reaping the bloody harvest sown by the sword of the rebellion. The gaols were full of "rebels," either taken as prisoners after Sedgemoor, or arrested on suspicion of being concerned in the revolt. Numbers had already been slain by Colonel Kirke, who, after the battle, had pursued his opponents far and wide and butchered hundreds in cold blood. Taunton was the scene of a horrible mas- sacre. Kirke and his officers lodged at the White Hart Inn, and whilst they drank beer within, the prisoners were hanged by scores, one after the other, over the sign-post of the house, the band playing meanwhile various lively tunes, to afford them, as Kirke said, music for their dancing. The victims were then drawn and quartered, and so many were slaughtered, that the executioner stood ankle deep in blood while streams of gore flowed down the streets like water. During that woeful autumn, Jeffreys con- demned to death no less than 331 persons ; 849 were transported ; and 33 were fined or whipped. His first victim was Lady Alice Lisle, whose sole offence consisted in giving a meal and a night's lodging to two fugitives. For this she was condemned to be burned ; and neither her extreme age — she was seventy years old — nor the fact that she had frequently sheltered the adherents of James during the time of the civil war, and it was by no means clear that she knew whom she was now helping, could avail aught. In reply to the most passionate appeals for mercy, sent in even by Romanists, James only commuted her sentence from burning to hanging. But the barbarity of these executions were equalled, if not surpassed, by the villany of the courtiers who thronged James's palace and made money out of the unfortunate prisoners who were transported for life, by selling them for field labour in Jamaica and Barbadoes. It is said that eleven thousand pounds were paid by the West Indian. planters for these sturdy Somersetshire peasants whose faults were that they had fought for Protestantism Judge Jeffrey and for him whom they considered to be the rightful king. The^-e was fierce contention among James's courtiers for shares of this unholy spoil. Of course Jeffreys took good care of himself in the matter, as also did the Queen and her ladies. The action of her maids of honour (!) was most reprehensible. There were twenty or thirty Somersetshire maidens whose only fault was that they had presented to Monmouth a silk banner and a Bible. The Queen's maids of honour obtained their imprisonment, hoping and beheving that their friends would purchase pardon for them at any price. Their atrocious scheme succeeded only too well. The ladies were arrested and thrown into prison, and the Queen by degrees obtained the King's pardon for them as their friends paid the exorbitant bribes demanded into the hands of her agents. Thus did James wreak his vengeance on the " re- bels." This was the state of affairs in " merrie Eng- land" duringthe first year of the reign of James II. The people were impri- soned and sold for the benefit of the King's favourites ; they were tor- tured because of their re- ligious opinions ; they were forced to pay il- legal taxes ; the laws were administered by villains for judges ; and last though not least, the country was governed without a parHament and in direct defiance of con- stitutional law, by the despotic will of the King who was himself the hireling of the King of France. It was not thus that the so-called " rebel " Oliver ruled England, — at least he had made her name respected throughout the world. Persecution of the Nonconformists. James was exultant in his victory. At last he had this turbulent England at his feet, and had carried out some of the despotic de- signs of his father and grandfather. Poor fool ! he little knew the Enghsh people ; and even while he thought he had conquered them, the storm was rapidly rising which would hurl him from the throne like a vvi- thered leaf on a mountain torrent. But at this period, the autumn of 1685, his power was at its height. Everywhere his enemies had been vanquished. The Whig party seemed exter- minated. The parliament was entirely under his control ; it had voted him immense sums of money, and had then quietly submitted to 453 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. be dismissed. Even the Nonconformists, the most persistent and invincible advocates of the civil and religious liberty which the Stuarts were so madly determined to crush, seemed completely beaten and discouraged. Their most famous and pious ministers were afraid to be seen in the streets lest they should be grossly insulted and their lives endangered ; their places of meeting were literally the holes and corners of the earth ; and when they gathered together for worship in any building, sentinels were posted to give the alarm if strangers drew near. Trap-doors were con- structed in their houses so that in case of danger they might escape unseen ; and so keen was the persecution that at last the bolder spirits determined to oppose forceby force. England seemed on the verge of the fiercest of all fights — a religious war. Thus, when a Mid- dlesex magistrate, hearing that certain Non- conformists were wont to meet for prayer in an obscure gravel pit a mile or two out of London, marched upon them with a strong posse of police, the assembly turned upon them, rescued their minister, and put the magistrate and his constables to an ignomi- nous flight. On the site of this place of meet- ing a chapel was erected, which we believe still stands, being known to this day as the Old Gravel Pit Chapel. It was thus that James, helped in some instances by the extreme partisans of the Established Church, strove to stamp out Dissent, and burned into the hearts and minds of the Nonconformists bitter memories which unhappily, in some cases, have lasted to this day. Persecution has only strength- ened its growth and increased its hold on the affections of its people. Even as the perse- cution by Papists only promoted the pros- perity of the Reformed Church, so the per- secution of Dissent increased its life and vigour. Strange that the people who had witnessed the fact in their own case should not have seen it in the case of others. In those dark and gloomy days of which we write, England might be likened to a wide arena, in which the three parties — the Roman- ists, the partisans of the Established Church, and the Dissenters — all fought and strove for victory, and all of them professing to be the exact followers of the meek and lowly Jesus, who when He was reviled reviled not again ! Without doubt the first-named party ap- peared to have the greatest chance of success, for the King himself was a pronounced Papist ; and now that his enemies were under his feet he prepared to realize more fully his obstinate desire to make England once more a Roman- ist country. It seemed comparatively easy for him to do this, for the Episcopalians and Tories, strong in their belief in the " divine right " of James to rule and do as he pleased, at first refused him nothing, and followed his every act with a chorus of sycophantic praise. But a change was at hand, for James had set his heart upon accomplishing two or three designs to which his zealous cavaliers were bitterly opposed. These things were in fact but further exemplifications of his pernicious principles ; but now they would touch his friends, who would speedily discover how bad those principles were when applied to their own case. Thus, Episcopalians could applaud James when he violated the principle of liberty by persecuting the Dissenters ; and it was only when he began to exalt the Papists to the detriment of the Churchmen that the latter discovered how precious that principle was. Again, James and his vile judges might unlawfully slaughter and imprison any number of the common people who were suspected ot being secretly connected with Monmouth's insurrection, but directly James spoke openly of repealing the Habeas Corpus Act, — the principle of which he had violated again and again, — even his most obsequious Members of Parliament began to grow restive. Well might Englishmen of all classes and of all shades of opinion value this Act, for it is second in importance only to Magna Charta. It secures the liberty of the subject, and no king dare keep even the meanest person in prison without a full and fair trial. Macaulay speaks of it as " the most stringent curb that ever legislation imposed on tyranny ;" and even Dr. Johnson, a veritable Tory of Tories, praises it, and says that it is the single ad- vantage which our government has over that of other countries. But this was one of the changes which James was bent upon accomplishing. It is almost impossible to understand how he could have been so blind as to endeavour to force this repeal on his people. He must have remembered how it had been wrung from his brother, and he must have known how highly it was prized even by the dependents on his Court and the most red-hot royalists. Another design upon which James was fully resolved was the establishment of a large standing army under his own per- sonal control. In defiance of the law he had already increased the number of his soldiers from six to twenty thousand, which was the largest force any King of England had at his own command in time of peace, and not con- tent with this he was bent on a still larger increase. This again was most hateful to even his warmest supporters, for it meant the complete supercession of the militia ; and in that force the gentlemen of nearly all the noble and county families held important posts, and thereby gained much dignity and' influence. 454 FROM TORE AY TO ST. JAMES'S. The Dispensing Power. There was yet another most audacious design which James was bent upon accom- phshing. This was to claim and exercise the power to dispense with the execution of the laws, — a right which he declared was inherent in the Crown, and could certainly not be denied by persons who held — as the Church- men and Tories then held — that complete and passive obedience to kings was a subject's most sacred duty, and that the only guide and controller of a king was his own con- science ! More audacious tyranny England had never known. Not even in the days of the Plantagenets did the sovereign claim such despotic powers. When Parliament met on the gthNovember, James made a bold avowal of these intentions, and asked for further supplies mainly to sup- port his large standing army, which was principally officered by Romanists. But in those days of hideous persecution, to put the sword into the hands of Papists, and then ask Protestants to pay them, was more than even that servile Parliament could bear, and by a majority of one it refused to grant James's requests. Finding it completely imprac- ticable, he dissolved it quite suddenly on the 20th, and determined to rule absolutely, and without a Parliament. But if he had had the slightest spark of wisdom he would have acted otherwise, for even that timid Parliament had shown some sign of that sturdy English spirit which had forced his grandfather, his father, and his brother to yield, and which, by persistently and unne- cessarily opposing it, finally swept him from his throne. Trial of Sir Edward Hales. James felt it necessary, however, to obtain some authoritative recognition of his prero- gative to dispense with the laws, and the judges being completely obedient to his will, he resolved to bring the matter before them, with the certainty of a decision in his favour. Of course, to admit that this dispensing power was a definite principle, and applicable to all statutes of the realm, would be to render the monarchy completely absolute, and repre- sentative government a perfect farce. And it was upon achieving this result that James was resolutely bent. He therefore openly proclaimed his determination to dispense with the Test Act, and appointed Sir Edward Hales, a Papist, to be Governor of Dover Castle and colonel of a regiment. He then caused the coachman of Sir Edward to bring an action, under the Test Act, against his master, to recover a sum of five hundred pounds for serving in the army without taking the Test, intending that the judges should rule in Sir Edward's favour. To James's surprise and displeasure, four of the judges privately remonstrated with him before the trial on the illegality of his proceeding; where- upon they were at once dismissed, and four servile judges put in their places. The Solicitor-General, Hencage Finch, was also dismissed for the same reason, and an insig- nificant creature named Thomas Powis, who had no recommendation but his servility, was given the post in his stead. On the day appointed, the mockery of a trial commenced. There were twelve judges, all of them prepared to decide in favour of James, and a Solicitor-General to argue on the King's behalf. Sir Edward Hales pleaded the King's power of dispensation under the Great Seal; and on June 6th the Chief Justice and ten of his colleagues gave judgment that there was no law with which His Majesty could not dispense. The King was sovereign, therefore the laws were his laws, and it fol- lowed that in certain cases he could dispense with their execution, he alone being the best judge as to the suitability of these cases. Of course, after this most astounding and unconstitutional procedure, James assumed absolute power. He would do as he liked, in defiance of all law. He appointed Roman- ists to numerous important posts, and within a few days four openly professed Popish Lords were sworn members of the Privy Council. Commands were also sent to the clergy that they were not to preach on doc- trinal points, while in many cases preferment was given to Romanist priests. The churches of the Establishment were absolutely turned into Popish mass-houses, and the revenues put into the pockets of followers of the "Scarlet Lady." The whole of the Established Church was placed under the control of a High Commis- sion Court of seven judges, of whom the villain Jeffreys was at the head. Scotland was placed under the control of Drummond, Earl of Perth, who seems to have won the heart of the tyrant by inventing the steel thumb-screw for torturing Presbyterians ; while Ireland was delivered up to the iron rule of Tyrconnel, a fierce Romanist, of whom the popular opinion may be fittingly expressed by quoting his nickname, " Lying Dick Talbot." As time went on, James continued to pursue his plans, and to push his pernicious princi- ples farther and farther. He appointed John Massey, who was notoriously a Romanist, to the deanery of Christchurch, Oxford; while both the bishoprics of Chester , and Oxford having become vacant, he filled them with the vile sycophants, Cartright and Parker, whose religion, if anything, was purely Popish, but whose chief reconmiendation was that they would do anything that James bade them. 455 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Indeed, it appeared as though the whole government of the English Church would be placed in the hands of its most deadly enemies, the Papists, and that even as James claimed to be the absolute owner and ruler of England, so the Church was to be at the entire disposal of the Pope. James coerces the Universities. Of course these proceedings aroused the greatest alarm and indignation amongst the clergy and supporters of the Established Church, and numerous indeed were the works then poured forth against the advocates of Rome. But the contest soon grew above a paper war. The 7th of February, 1686, will be ever memoralDle as the day on which James endeavoured to coerce the University of Cambridge, and the sullen discontent of the people began to shape itself into dangerous and active agitation. On the day named James sent a letter to the senate of Cambridge University ordering them to admit Alban Francis, a Benedictine monk, to the degree of Master of Arts. Thereupon the senate required Francis to take the oaths against Romanism prescribed by law, which of course he de- clined to do, and the senate, of which body Sir Isaac Newton was one, was accordingly summoned before the Ecclesiastical Com- mission for opposing the King, and acting strictly in accordance with the laws ! The Vice-Chancellor lost his office and his income, and James was triumphant. But at Oxford he acted with even more illegality and despotism. The presidency of Magdalen College having become vacant, the King appointed Antony Farmer, a Ro- manist, a man of immoral life, and one, moreover, not qualified by the statutes of the college. The Fellows, in the exercise of their right, chose instead, John Hough, a man in every way worthy of the office. They were cited before the Ecclesiastical Com- mission, and produced the most unmistakable proofs of Farmer's unfitness for the post. Nevertheless Hough's election was declared void. The Fellows persisted that Hough was their lawfully elected president, as he was un- doubtedly, and strictly maintained that no other should rule over the college. The King went in person to browbeat the Fellows, but in vain. Hough refused to give up the keys of the college when called upon, and the doors were broken open and he and the Fellows were ejected by soldiery. The end of the matter was that a Romish bishop was placed over the college, and twelve Romish Fellows were appointed in one day. These were the acts which the blind bigot and tyrant thought consolidated his power. Foolish man ! They were desperate blows at the very supports of his throne. The party whom he was now insulting so needlessly w^is composed of the very men who had given him the crown. But for the staunch support ^, of members of the Established Church he ■■ would certainly have been prohibited from " succeeding to the throne by reason of the Exclusion Bill, introduced by the Whigs in the previous reign. It is' quite easy to understand the intense hatred of the English people to the Romanists of that day,. Not only did they remember the hideous slaughter during the reign of Bloody Queen Mary and the iniquitous Gunpowder Plot, but the idea of the do- minion of the Pope was ever mingled with the idea of the Romanist religion, and was just the one thing which Englishmen could not bear. And still further, the opinion was widely prevalent that a Romanist felt it his bounden duty to lie like the devil, to increase the prestige and dominion of his Church. When, therefore, these high-handed proceedings took place, even the most zealous royalists began to look alarmed and to question among themselves as to the soundness of the doctrine of "divine right." The First Declaration of Indulgence. Thus passed the dark and doleful year of 1686, — a year heavy with the burden of despotism. Nearly the whole of the time the Parliament was prorogued, and James ruled as absolute king. In February 1687, he took his next great step in the complete subjugation of the realm to Popery by issuing in Scotland a Declaration of Indulgence, whereby all the various prohibitions against Romanists were to be completely repealed. Quakers also might meet in any place, and moderate Presbyterians only in their own houses. But field conventicles were still to be put down with the utmost severity. As the servile Council of Scotland made no re- sistance to this decree, not even pointing out that, being issued on the King's authority alone, it was absolutely illegal, James resolved next to try the same experiment in England. He had first thought of summoning a Parlia- ment, but on sounding several peers and influential commoners, he found so much opposition, that he resolved to do without their legislature ; the Parliament was there- fore prorogued for another six months, and James continued to reign as absolute monarch. Early in April 1687, James issued the Decla- ration of Indulgence, which, as he fondly thought, set the coping-stone to the fabric of despotic power and Romanist supremacy which he had so zealously reared. It proved too heavy, however, and toppled over the whole building, and buried its founder in its ruins. In other words, although at first suc- cessful, this Declaration ultimately gave the final blow which overturned the throne. 156 *f=fc}B=lJ- --y=m* _™j The Battle of Sedgemoor 457 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. It gave absolute liberty to all persons to worship as they pleased, and abolished all religious tests ; while it also professed to maintain the legal rights of the Church of England. The King evidently hoped that the satisfaction of the Nonconformists would form an important counterbalance to the dissatisfied Churchmen. But while the Dissenters were anxious to profit by the advantages thus offered to them, the Declaration was looked at with suspicion by all parties except the Romanists. The Dissenters well knew the intense hatred of James, and, indeed, all the Stuarts, to every kind of nonconformity, and they could not but suppose that this kindness hid some deeply-laid design. Still further, being made on the King's own responsibility, it was utterly illegal, and the Nonconformists under- stood too well the principles of constitution- alism to accept even liberty in an unconsti- tutional manner. For if the King's caprice gave them liberty suddenly on one day, it might as suddenly take it away again on the morrow. Further, all parties regarded it as formed especially to promote the spread of Romanism ; and if the liberty were accepted at the King's hands to-day, and thereby his prerogative and right of legislating without parliament acknowledged, there would belittle difficulty in the King's making another law to-morrow whereby every person must em- brace the Romanist faith. These were some of the objections raised by the Nonconformists, and subtle as was the Jesuitical policy which directed the Declaration, most of the Dissenters were too wary to be caught by it ; by far the greater number of them joined with the Episcopalians against their common enemy. During the year, however, no resistance was made to the autocratic rule of the King, and James, heedless of the widespread discontent, rejoiced at the success of his schemes. The Child of Prayer. James now believed himself paramount, but there was one very important thing wanting to complete his designs. He had no son to whom he could leave his crown, and whom he could indoctrinate with his views to perpetuate his system of rule. In default of a son being born to him, the throne at his death would go to his daughter by his first wife, Mary, now married to her cousin, the Prince of Orange, a great Protestant prince, and the chief opponent of Louis of France on the Continent. The thought that his son-in- law, the Prince of Orange, would succeed to his throne was gall and wormwood to the Romanist James. But what was to the King such a source of sorrow was to his people a cause of joy. The King being old, it was not anticipated that any more children would' be born to him, and therefore the people hoped to find speedy relief from his tyrannous rule when in due time his Protestant daughter and her husband succeeded to the throne. But this hope was destined to be quickly overthrown, for early in 1688 it was publicly announced that the Queen expected a child,, and prayers were offered up in all the Roman Catholic places of worship that the infant might prove to be a boy. On the loth of June a son — the child of prayer, as he was called— was born, and great was the consternation throughout Protestant England. Indeed the popular belief then was that the so-called son was a suppositious child, and not the true son of James and his Queen ; and although this was afterwards proved to be false, it was made much of at the time by Mary and her husband, William of Orange. There is no doubt but that the fear of the perpetuation of James's evil tyranny under James's son formed another reason for the determination of the people to drive their tyrant from his throne in favour of his daughter Mary ; still further, the strong belief that it was a Jesuitical trick, set in motion by the disciples of Loyola for the purpose of increasing their power, added to the extreme detestation with which the people regarded the Romanists. The fact that such stories were generally believed gives us a clear glimpse of the embittered state of popular feeling at the time, and also affords a clue to the popular hatred of the Romanists. "They are always plotting treach- erously and in the dark; they cannot be trusted or believed." Thus the people thought. The Second Declaration of In- dulgence. We now come to the more immediate cause of the revolution in favour of the Prince of Orange. This was not the birth of a son to James, although that incident without doubt increased the popular feeling in favour of the movement. It is to be found in the outbreak of the discontent between James and the Established Church into open war. On the 27th of April, 1688, the King, em- boldened by the success of his Declaration of Indulgence of the preceding year, issued a second, which in many respects was a repe- tition of the former, but contained certain sentences in addition which rendered it more obnoxious. He said that it had come to his knowledge that designing men had spread the report that he might be persuaded to change his mind on the subject, and he therefore thought it necessary to state that his purpose was immovably fixed; only those who would concur in his plans would be employed in his service, and that for this reason many persons had been dismissed, from both civil and military appointments 458 FROM TORE AY TO ST. JAMES'S. A new Parliament would be summoned in November, and he relied upon his subjects sending him members who would support him in his plans. Alas for the mutability of all human schemes ! That Parliament was never held ; and when November came, James was a fugitive, flying from the land over which he had ruled with such cruel tyranny. At first this Declaration produced but little result. People wondered why James should issue a second proclamation merely to ac- centuate the first, and say that he would not be likely to change his mind. But it was followed on the 4th of May by an Order in Council, commanding that the Declaration should be read in all churches and chapels throughout the land on two Sabbaths in succession, and by ministers of all denominations. In the Gazette of the 7th of May it was published that the 20th should be the day of the first reading in London and its vicinity, and in the country the first reading was fixed for the 3rd of June. This command was in very truth the throw- ing down of the glove, and challenging to open war. It snapped the last link which bound James to the Churchmen who had put him on the throne. It was a direct insult to the whole of the Established clergy, for not only was it a most atrocious affront to cause them to proclaim the triumph of Father Petre and the Jesuits (for so they regarded the Decla- ration), a sect which they hated so intensely, and from whose professors they had suffered so much; but the great point to be noted is that this Declaration, being proclaimed by the King's authority alone, was utterly illegal, and a direct violation of the laws of the realm. It was, moreover, a distinct breach of his kingly promises, and by obeying the command the clergy would be made the instruments of spreading, and at the same time acknow- ledging, the King's right to absolute power and complete despotism. It was therefore not only the great detestation of the religious toleration of Romanism which caused the clergy to object, it was the hearty disapproval of King James's tyranny and unconstitutional conduct. At this moment the action of the Protestant Dissenters of London was such as to win for themselves a title to the lasting esteem of their countrymen. They had been estranged by reason of many cruel wrongs heaped upon them both by the Church of England and the House of Stuart, and at first they had witnessed this war between the tyrant Church and the tyrant King which it had placed on the throne with a spice of spiteful pleasure ; but at this time, understanding how much was at stake, and sympathizing with their Episcopalian brethren in the day of their tribulation, they boldly threw in their lot with them. We must not forget, moreover, that it was partly in favour of the Nonconformists that the Declaration was drawn so that their action exhibits all the greater self-denial. But Baxter, Howe, and others, who had known frequently what it was to suffer for conscience' sake, now led the way in encouraging the clergy to do likewise. Their object was to form a coalition among ministers of all persuasions to refuse to read the illegal Declaration. The congregations of these Independent and Presbyterian ministers were even more enthusiastic than some of their pastors, and deputations waited on several of the London clergy to urge them to strike a blow for the liberties of England and the Protestant reli- gion, by not reading the Declaration. The outcome of this agitation was that the flower of the London clergy held a meeting to decide upon their course of action. The feel- ing first seemed to be in favour of yielding to the King, for there were many who feared the power of James. The King could at a week's notice turn them out of their parsonages, take from them their incomes, and leave them to beg their bread from door to door. But the fervent words of Dr. Edward Fowler, Vicar of St. Giles's, Cripplegate, seem to have turned the majority into a minority. He argued strongly in favour of a determination not to read the Declaration, maintaining that his conscience would not allow him to publish abroad so illegal and monstrous a proclama- tion. The result was that a resolution was passed, written down and signed by many of the incumbents then present, binding them- selves that whatever others might do they would not read the Declaration. Dean Patrick of Peterborough and Rector of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, was the first to sign, and Fowler followed him. The Prayer of the Prelates. The movement thus set on foot gained strength every day. The resolution was sent round the city, and numbers signed it. Fuither, it helped the action of the bishops, and on the 12th of May a company of them gathered at Lambeth Palace to discuss the course they should take. The general opinion was that the Declaration should not be read, and letters were sent by special messengers to several prelates in the country urging them to come to London without delay and confer with their brethren. These letters were for the most part answered in person, and on the 1 8th of May another meeting was held, at which a number of bishops and eminent divines were present. After long deliberation and many prayers, it was decided that a peti- tion should be drawn up and presented to the King, in which all disloyal terms or expres- sions should be studiously avoided, but that though His Majesty could rest assured that 459 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the Church was, as ever, loyal to the throne, yet as parliament had declared that the sovereign could not dispense with statutes in matters concerning the Church, the Decla- ration was illegal and the petitioners could not be parties to it by reading it in public. The petition was signed by Archbishop Sancroft and six of his suffragans, and was then taken to Whitehall, and presented to the King. When James read it his brow grew dark. " This is flat rebellion," he said ; " I will be obeyed. Go to your dioceses, and see that the Declaration is read next Sunday." The bishops maintained their loyalty, but said they must obey God rather than man. " But," said James, " God has given me the dispens- ing power; I am king by divine right; you yourselves have preached and maintained this doctrine; I will maintain my rights, and if you question them, as you are now doing. London Bridge. The populace hned the banks of the river and cheered them to the echo, for the citizens believed they were fighting against Romanism, and they dreaded a return of the horrors of Queen Mary's reign. The Trial of the Seven Bishops. On the 15th of June the bishops were brought before the Court of King's Bench, and the legal objections against their com- mitment having been over-ruled, they were released on their own recognizances until the 29th of June, when the trial was appointed to come on at Westminster Hall. On that day the whole neighbourhood was thronged with eager and expectant crowds, who begged the blessing of the bishops as they passed on to the great hall. The charge against the bishops was that Medal Struck in Honour of the Petitioning Bishops. you are trumpeters of sedition; I will be obeyed," That night, the bishops' petition was printed and scattered broadcast all over the city, and the prayer of the prelates was loudly praised. When Sunday came the churches were crowded as they never had been before; but in only f 07 ir of the places of worship was the order obeyed, and when a week had passed and the second Sunday came, the same thing occurred. For once in his life at least, the tyrant had been completely set at naught. King James's rage knew no bounds, and, acting on the advice of Jeffreys, he ordered that Archbishop Sancroft and the other six peti- tioners should be brought before the Court of King's Bench on a charge of uttering aseditious libel. In the meantime they were committed to the Tower. The enthusiasm of the people on their behalf was so great that they were sent by water to the great prison palace below of having published in the petition a false and seditious libel ; and as the judges were nearly all the creatures of the King, His Majesty hoped to win a signal victory, and either make these high dignitaries completely subservient to his will or remove them from their sees, so that men more to his taste might be placed in their stead. So exuberant were the people in their de- monstrations of delight on behalf of the bishops that it was difficult to maintain order. It was quite clear how the people regarded the matter, and there were those on the King's side who feared a riot when the bishops were convicted. For there was but little doubt among the King's partisans but that they would be convicted ; the King's wishes were well-known, and all the forensic force at his command had been retained to prove their guilt. All through the long, hot midsummer day the legal conflict raged, and it was dark when 460 FROM TORE AY TO ST. /AMES'S. the final summing up of the judges was ended. The Chief Justice held that the peti- tion was a libel. Judge Alibone was of the same opinion. The two other judges, Hollo- way and Powell, differed from these decisions ; and the latter boldly said that the dispensing power lately assumed by the King was beyond his right, and unless repressed would vest the whole legislative power in the king per- sonally, a result utterly illegal and unconsti- tutional. All through that June night the excitement and anxiety were most intense. The people waited for the verdict as if it were a personal matter, and numbers of them paced the streets till dawn. The jury were locked up till ten o'clock next morning, when, pale and haggard, they came into court to deliver their decision. The jurymen filed into their box amid breathless silence. The vast hall, Palace Yard, and the streets around were packed with an immense crowd. Sir Samuel Astry, the Clerk to the Crown, put the question to the jury : "Do you find the defendants <^ilty or not guilty?" Sir Roger Langley, the foreman, answered , '" Not Guilty ; " and even as he spoke a shout from a thousand throats cheered them to the echo, — a shout which was taken up by the tens of thousands without, and answered and reansweredfrom Temple Bar to the Tower. Guns were fired, bells were rung, and everybody everywhere seem- ed transported with jo3^ The jury were overwhelmed with the manifestations of the popular praise. They could scarcely make their way from the hall,for the people crowded round them, shook their hands, and blessed them for preserving the liberties of England. The good news was soon known at the great camp on Hounslow Heath, where the King was then staying. As soon as the soldiers heard it they took up the joyful shout, and cheered so lustily that the King demanded to know the cause. " They cheer for the acquittal of the bishops, Your Ma- jesty ;" to which James rephed, " So much the worse for them." Even in that hour of humiliating defeat, when the temper of the whole nation was so unmistakably displayed against him, he still meditated on persisting in his folly. But even then his hour had come, although he knew it not, and the fiat had gone forth, William, Prince of Orange. " Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting." Even then, while the people were giving themselves up to the joy of the mo- ment and preparing for the illuminations of the night and the burning of the Pope and Papists in effigy, while James was meditating new schemes of revenge and tyranny, while the glad tidings were flying all over the king- dom, and steeples everywhere were rocking with the ringing of joy bells, — even then an invitation was presented to William of Orange, the King's nephew and son-in-law, signed in cipher by many leading noblemen and clergymen, to appear in England at the head of a body of troops and drive the tyrant from the throne, — an invitation which William then and there accepted. For Parliament and Protestantism. The invitation which had thus been presented to the Prince of Orange has a his- tory of its own which is wpII worth relating ; but tradition has been so much mixed with fact that it is difficult ac- curately to distinguish the one from the other. The simple truth, however, ap- pears to be this : — Ten miles south of Sheffield lies the little village of Whittington, near which stands a little inn known to all the country- side as the " Cock and Pynot." Now it is a dilapi- dated cottage fast falling to decay, but at the time when King James tyrannised over the English people it was a thriving ale-house. One day, when hunting with his harriers on Whittington Moor, the Duke of Devon- shire met here the Earl of Danby, and arranged to send the invitation to the Prince of Orange, which, as we have seen, was delivered to him on the 30th of June. The co-operation of Compton, the sus- pended Bishop of London, was then ob- tained. Other influential persons joined the plot, and many meetings were held in the vaults of Lady Place, a picturesque mansion situated on the banks of the Thames between Henley and Maidenhead. Edward Russell had been over to the Hague in May, but the Prince desired a full and formal invitation, and now it had come. He accepted it instantly. With a promptitude exceeded only by the secrecy he set about the consolidation of a force that would be certain to command success if, as he was led to believe, ninety-nine hun- 461 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. dredths of the population would join him on his progress through the country. But notwithstanding all his efforts news of his preparation began to leak out. Louis of France, who was the inveterate enemy of the Prince of Orange, exhorted James to prepare for the invasion. But James, with the most incomprehensible obstinacy, refused to believe it, and rejected Louis' offers of assistance. But on the loth of October William issued a proclamation to the people of England, setting forth in a singularly clear and calm manner the violation of law and liberty of which James had been guilty, and also pointing out the popular belief that a pre- tended heir had been foisted on the country to set aside the right of the Princess of Orange. In consequence of these things, the Prince of Orange, at the earnest request of many lords, both spiritual and temporal, and of many gentlemen of all ranks, had thought fit to come to England with a sufficient army to defend him from the violence of the King. The proclamation proceeded : " We for our part will concur in everything that may procure the peace and happiness of the nation which a free and lawful parliament shall determine, since we have nothing before our eyes, in this our undertaking, but the preservation of the Protestant religion, the covering of all men from persecution for their consciences, and the securing to the whole nation the free enjoyment of their laws, rights, and liberties, under a just and legal government." Six days after the publication of this mani- festo the Prince of Orange embarked at Helvoetsluys, with a large force of four thou- sand horse and ten thousand foot soldiers. A fleet of fifty men-of-war and four hundred transports conveyed his army, while he had also many fine ships and frigates. Contrary winds delayed their passage, and, indeed, compelled them once to return to the shelter of their own shores ; but on the evening of the 1st of November they were able to sail steadily out to sea. Too Late ! Meantime James had not been idle. The publication of the manifesto by the Prince of Orange had convinced him beyond any pos- sibility of doubt that Louis' apprehensions were correct. Then, in a state of panic, he yielded in a few hours almost all the points for which he had so blindly and so obstinately struggled throughout his reign. He dissolved the Ecclesiastical Commission which had so unjustly judged and unlawfully oppressed the clergy ; he restored to London its ancient charter, and gave the Bishop of Winchester power to reinstate the Fellows of Magdalen College, while he restored their ancient fran- chises to all the municipal corporations. Father Petre was dismissed, and James announced his determination henceforth to govern strictly according to law. But. these reforms came too late. He should have thought of them before. The hearts of his people were gone from him, and their eyes were turned longingly to his daughter and her husband from over the sea. On review- ing his resources James found that he had but a fleet of thirty ships, and an army of about forty thousand men. The ships were at once ordered to oppose the Prince's pro- gress, but were kept in the mouth of the Thames by the baffling east winds which filled the sails of William's vessels and wafted them swiftly onward towards England. The greater part of the army was held in readiness to march to any point at a mo- ment's notice. Some regiments were sent northward, as William was expected to land on the Yorkshire coast. But though at first the Dutch vessels had been steered in this direction, the Prince of Orange, on the eve of the and of November, suddenly gave directions to alter their course towards the English Channel; and on the morning of the 3rd of November they passed the Straits of Dover. The coast of Kent was covered with innumerable spectators, who could see distinctly the soldiers standing on the Dutch decks, and could plainly hear their martial music. It was a time of intense excitement for England. A courier sped post-haste from Dover to Whitehall to inform the King of the sudden change in William's plans. He found every- thing in confusion. James knew not what to do. The regiments sent north were hurriedly recalled and told to march on Salis- bury, while some of the available troops were sent to Portsmouth and others to Plymouth. The idea never seems to have entered James's mind that Torbay would be the landing-place. But so it was, and the selection by William of this harbour as a landing-place gives a signal proof of his sagacity and astuteness. On Sunday the 4th of November, sail was slackened, and divine service was held on board William's ships ; and on the next day, after passing the place in a sea-fog, the wind having changed, the fleet steered round and sailed quietly into Torbay. Among the first to land were the Prince of Orange and Marshal Schomberg, and they proceeded at once to reconnoitre the country. The outlook was far from pleasant. The ground was drenched with rain which had fallen on the preceding evening, and the roads were in a most deplorable state. Nevertheless on the next day, when the horses were landed, William began to march up the country, and a few of his regiments advanced as far as Newton Abbot, in the centre of which little town a stone still stands 462 FROM TORE AY TO ST. /AMES'S. to mark the spot where the Prince's mani- festo was solemnly read to the inhabitants. Four days after his landing, William entered Exeter. This town was crowded with people who had thronged from all the country near to welcome the champion of their religion, and shout after shout rent the air as they saw on the folds of the Prince's banner the words, " For Protestantism and the Liberties of England." With his accus- tomed sagacity, William ruled his army with the most rigid discipline, and restrained them from committing the slightest misde- meanour. Every item of food and forage was duly paid for, and the people, who still re- tained a shuddering recollection of the excesses of James's troops, regarded these invaders with great favour. At Exeter the Prince of Orange remained a few days, and then moved slowly on Salisbury. He had a superlatively difficult part to play, and his plan was to wait for the support of the English people. A large force had been gathered at Salisbury to oppose him, but on the 1 5th the King received the news that Lord Cornbury, the eldest son of the Earl of Clarendon, had suddenly left the camp at the head of three regiments and was marching to join the Prince. After this, the news of several defec- tions reached the wretched despot ; noble- men, gentlemen, and officers of all grades -were constantly leaving the royal cause and joining the Prince. Even his daughter, the Princess Anne, left him ; and in the depth of despair the King cried : " God help me, even my own children have forsaken me ! " A humorous story is told of the Princess's -husband, George of Denmark. Never bril- liant at his best, he was so bewildered by the news of the repeated defections that he could do nothing but feebly lift his hands and, as each fresh report was brought in, exclaim in utter astonishment, '■^ Est-il pos- sible V (Is it possible.) And when he knew that even his wife had deserted her father he could only repeat his eternal exclama- tion in precisely the same tone. But the next day, having in the meantime no doubt received private instructions. Prince George himself absconded, where- upon the King exclaimed, with a slight smile lighting up for a moment his sad face, "What! est-il possible, gone, too.'"' And now James himself thought of ab- sconding, for it seemed the only chance left him. He had already summoned a meeting of the peers then in London, and they attended him at Whitehall on the 27th of November. The decision arrived at was to send commissioners to treat with the Prince of Orange, to proclaim a general amnesty, and issue writs for the summoning of a Parlia- ment which was to settle all matters in dis- pute. James's great army had only engaged in a few trifling skirmishes, the Earl of Bath had put Plymouth into the hands of his op- ponent, and every hour fresh adherents gathered round the Prince. The negotia- tions did not appear likely to proceed as James would desire, so on the loth of December he sent his queen and infant son privately down the river on the way to France ; and in the darkness of the wintry morning of the next day he stole out of Whitehall by a secret passage, and in a hackney coach, procured by Sir Edward Hales, proceeded to Millbank. Here he crossed the Thames in a small boat, and landed at Vauxhall, where a conveyance was in waiting to drive him to Sheerness. Be- fore leaving Whitehall he threw the writ summoning a Parliament into the fire, and sent an order to Faversham to disband the army. While crossing the Thames he threw the Great Seal into the water, whence it was afterwards dragged up by a fishing net. These things he did in the childish hope that they would complicate matters for his son-in-law. Arrived at Sheerness, he went at once on board a hoy, meaning to sail to France. But the wind was against him, and the vessel was boarded by fishermen who had recognized the King and Sir Edward Hales and carried them back to Sheerness, where he was kept a close prisoner. Re- leased by an order from the Lords, he returned to Whitehall and then to Rochester, whence he made a second attempt to escape, which succeeded. On that morning (the nth of December), when the news spread that the King had gone and that for the moment there was absolutely no government for England, great was the consternation. Fierce multitudes burnt Ro- man Catholic chapels and attacked the houses of Roman Catholic ambassadors. But at this terrible time Archbishop Sancroft came forward, and supported by several lords spiritual and temporal, drew up a declaration that the King, having fled and destroyed the writs, thereby stopping the hope that a proper parliamentary settlement could be arrived at, they were determined to join WiUiam of Orange, and until that prince's arrival they would preserve order. Thereupon the city trainbands were got under arms, the wrecking mobs were restrained, and hap- pily all loss of life was prevented. On this eventful day the hated Judge Jeffreys was discovered lurking in disguise in a low ale- house at Wapping. The fierce mob rushed upon him, and would have torn him limb from limb but that the soldiers saved him and conveyed him to the Tower by virtue of an order from the Lords. On the night of the 1 2th, London was convulsed with terror at the rumour that a number of rough Irish troops, brought over by James, were marching 463 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. on the town bent on plunder and outrage. A satirical ballad named Lillibulero, written by Thomas Wharton some months before, in which two Irishmen congratulate each other on the approaching massacre of the Protes- tants, had been sung in every street for many weeks past,andthe passionsof the people were greatly inflamed against James's Irish troops. The alarm spread, the drums of the militia beat to arms, and everywhere husbands and fathers might be seen equipping themselves for the fight. But as the night wore away, and the late winter daybreak of the next morning dawned, it was discovered that the rumour was quite false; but that evening has ever since been known as the " Irish night," and the occurrence exhibits the state of panic into which the ungoverned people had fallen. William enters St. James's Palace ; Conclusion. Our story now draws to a close, for very shortly afterwards, on the i8th of December, William of Orange marched into London amidst the rejoicings of the multitude, and quietly took up his abode at St. James's Palace. In a few days he summoned a large assembly of the Estates of the Realm known as a Convention (which differed only from a parliament in that the writs summoning it were not issued by a king), which declared the throne vacant, and after great debate drew up and passed the famous Declaration of Rights, by which William and Mary were appointed King and Queen of England, the chief power resting with him. Failing any issue, the crown was to pass to Mary's sister, Anne, and the son of James II. and his posterity were to be shut out from it for ever. Halifax offered the crown, which William accepted for his wife and himself, promising faithfully to observe all the laws of the land, and con- firming the great principles of our constitu- tion, that no sovereign can make or unmake laws, levy taxes, or keep a standing army without the consent and co-operation of Par- liament. Further it was declared that not the meanest subject could be kept in prison without a fair trial, and that the judges, who before held their of6ce at the pleasure of the sovereign, were in future to hold their appoint- ments for life or "good conduct." Moreover, although the Reformed Church was to remain the established religion of the country. Dis- senters henceforth were to be released from persecution. And finally it settled for ever the vexed question of " divine right," by declaring that the sovereign simply reigns by the will of the people, and a right no more " divine " than, and in no respect different from, the right of the subject to vote for his representative in Parliament. Thus ended the great English Revolution — that conflict between king and people which had been waged with varying success through so many weary years, — a revolution which ended, not in the establishment of a wild democracy, nor in the maintenance of an absolute monarchy, but in the formation of a free self-government, in which all classes are represented, and exercise their due influ- ence, —a government which, containing within itself the power of reformation without revo- lution, is always willing to admit the claims of liberty and progress, without being un- mindful of the glorious traditions of a storied past. F. M. H. 464 Glencoe. A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY THE STORY OF THE MASSACRE OF GLENCOE. " Then woman's shriek was heard in vain. Nor infancy's unpitied plain More than the warrior's groan could gain Respite from ruthless butchery ! " Scott. BattleofKilliecrankie— The Chief of Glencoe— Fall of Dundee— King James's Gift of Brandy— Tarbat and Dalrymple— The Burnmg Questions of Scotland— Estimate of Highland Loyalty— Treachery of the Aboriijines- Letters of Fire and Sword— Projected Massacre by James VI.— Tarbat's Golden Bait— The Earl of Breadalbane— A Pious Colonel- Loses his Patience— Castle of Achallader— A strange Armistice— Glenooe's Quarrel— Brutalities of his Clan- Friends of Rob Roy— Dalrymple's Objects in "rooting out" the Thieves— The Royal Indemnity— Dalrymple's "Mauling Scheme "—Maclan of Glencoe takes the Oath— Military Preparations— Dalrymple's Letters— The Campbells in Glencoe— Merry-makings in the Glen— Orders of the Officers— Maclan slain— Details' of the Massacre Threading KiLLiECRANKiE in 1689; Glencoe and other Giants. ITH fear and trembling General Mac- kay made a desperate plunge with his four thousand soldiers and twelve hundred baggage horses into the "infernal defile," as he termed it,— the grim and gloomy gorge two miles long, now known far and wide over the world as the Pass of Killiecrankie, and spoken of 465 with calm admiration by gentle tourists as highly romantic and picturesque. Although it was the hour of noon, scarcely a glint of the summer sun could find its way into the depths of the mysterious Perthshire defile. The " motley rabble of Saxons and Dutch," as they crept slowly along the narrow and perilous track where a single false step was death, imagined that their savage and stealthy foes might be concealed in hundreds IH EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. behind the gigantic piles of overhanging rock, and that those invisible birds of prey might at any moment pounce upon their baggage or dash them down with one fell swoop into the raging torrent of the Garry. This dreaded "pass of the withered brush- wood " — the same which the Hessian troops refused to enter during the Jacobite rebellion of 1 746 — having been safely threaded by the timid forces, their cautious commander ex- tended them in a thin line, only three deep, on the rough vale above the flooded river. Mackay was unfortunately unequal to the occasion. He had been forced into this position by the sudden appearance in the afternoon, upon the heights above his army, of the plaided giants of the Grampians under the gallant Graham of Claverhouse. It was a splendid host, with heroes that might well have graced the field of Troy, which had been gathered by the fiery cross from the miserable huts and proud castles of the Scottish highlands to do battle for the unworthy cause of the last of the Stuart kings. In the array of blooming tartan and blazing brass might be seen the majestic figure of Sir Ewan Cameron of Lochiel, the Cetewayo of King James's Court, mounted on a bright bay horse, and with a blood-red plume waving from the crest of his helmet ; the rude and dauntless young Glengarry, the fierce Keppoch, the handsome boy of Duart, the Macdonald chiefs of Clanranald and Sleat, both of whom were also of tender years, and as yet in the bud of martial fame ; and at the head of his small contingent, for his poor and ferocious sept was feeble as regards number, the venerable chieftain of Glencoe, whose appearance is thus described in a Latin poem of the period : — " Next, with a daring look and warlike stride, Glencoe advanced ; his rattling armour shone With dreadful glare ; his large, broad, brawny back A thick bull's-hide, impenetrably hard, Instead of clothes, invest ; and though along Twice fifty of gigantic hmbs and size The warrior led, fierce, horrid, wild, and strong, Yet his vast bulk did like a turret rise By head and shoulders o'er the surly crew. Round, in his left, his mighty shield he twirled. And in his right his broadsword brandished high, And flashed like lightning with affrighting gleams. His visage boisterous, horribly was graced With stiff mustachios like two bending horns, And turbid fiery eyes, as rneteors red, Which fury and revenge did threaten round." The Rush of the Avalanche; Death OF Dundee. Claverhouse saw at once that his antago- nist was in a trap, as safe within the grasp of his dashing Highlanders as a feeble deer in the coils of the boa constrictor, that one fierce and swift rush from the heights upon the thin line below would cut it through into disorganised groups, and leave it at the 466 mercy of the irresistible broadswords. While Mackay did his best to comfort his timid soldiers with the information that the savage mountaineers were accustomed to cast off their brogues and plaids and fight in a semi- nude state, not because of excessive bravery and eagerness for battle, but in order that they might be able to take more quickly to their heels in case of defeat, Dundee, on the other hand, had difficulty in holding back his impatient host from the onset. Although he had begun to draw out his line on the crest of the hill at five in the afternoon, he continued till close on sunset to gaze with his eagle eye on the doomed and mesmerized chickens — "boddachs'' his men called them — underneath ; the plated armour of the hero glistened in the sunbeams as he rode along' on his favourite dun-coloured charger, calling out to his tartaned host, " Steady, Claymores I we must wait till the sun is lower ; they can't run away." The Lowlanders attempted to strike terror into their foes by discharging three small leather field-pieces, known as " Sandy's stoups," but without the least effect except smoke and noise, not a single ball alighting among the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee. It was within half an hour of sun- set — the light had crept out of the valleys, and was only beating on the lofty peaks of Benvracky and the mighty Benygloe ; there was just time left for making a complete holocaust of the boddachs, when the leader of the highland host exclaimed, "In God's name, let us go on, and let this be your word, King James and the Church of Scotland, which God long preserve !" There was a terrible pause, like that which precedes a thunderstorm ; then from the dead silence the furious avalanche of shoeless and stock- ingless redshanks swept down the hill with their bodies bent forward; rushed across the short space of level ground towards the embattled line, shielding their faces with their targes, but halting not for a moment as the bullets whizzed among them on front and flank from the wider line of Teutons ; stopped for an instant, fired one deadly volley that echoed up the mountains like a clap of thunder, and then throwing away their guns, dashed pell-mell on the foe with their clay- mores. "After this the noise seemed hushed," say " Lochiel's Memoirs," "and the fire ceasing on both sides, nothing was heard for some few moments but the sullen and hollow clashes of broadswords, with the dismal groans and cries of dying and wounded men." The rout was complete and instan- taneous ; Mackay turned his head and found himself alone ; struck with surprise, knowing that the day was hopelessly lost, and fearing the pursuit of Dundee and his hawk-eyed legions, he rode off with the remnant tithe of his army across the flooded Garry, con- A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY. tinuing his flight during the night-time ; and late in the next day — Sunday — arrived at Drummond Castle as the hero of one of the most pitiable tales of blunder and discomfi- ture recorded in the annals of his country. " It was a famous victory ." At least fifteen hundred of Mackay's men were butchered. The men of Athole, who had been marched out to join them, and instead had drunk the health of King James in their tartan bonnets, brought in five hundred prisoners who had been caught like conies in the Pass of Killie- crankie. Highlanders used to roll the narra- tive of the ghastly revel as a sweet morsel under their tongue : " There were scarce ever such strokes given in Europe as were given that day." Officers and soldiers were cut down through the head and neck to the very breast ; skulls were shaven off above the ears by a backstroke as if they were nightcaps ; the single blow of a claymore cleft through shoulder and cross-belt to the entrails ; skull-caps were beaten into the brains of their wearers ; pikes and small swords were cut through as if they were con- temptible willow wands. Glengarry mowed dovra two men at every stroke of his pon- derous claymore. But to what purpose all this carnage and the magnificent piles of baggage on the haughs above the Garry that came into the hands of the looting redshanks ? With that nightfall there fell the last hope and the most heroic spirit of the old cause. There perished in the rebel ranks not only Donald of the Blue Eyes — the valiant boy of Glengarry — the huge Haliburton, who stalked about like a moving castle, throwing fire and sword on every side, but greatest of all, James Graham, " Bonnie Dundee," the man with a woman's face and a hero's heart ; his body was found upon the field, and buried in the church of Blair Athole. " He could not fall," said the elegy, " but by his country's fate." His faith- ful friend, the Earl of Balcarres, on the Sunday morning after the battle, while in prison in Edinburgh, saw the ghost of the handsome Graham move across the room in stately and melancholy silence ; and when King William was urged to despatch a strong force to retrieve the disaster of the " infernal defile," that shrewd Dutchman remarked that "it was needless ; the war ended with Dundee's life." DUNKELD AND CROMDALE ; KiNG JaMES'S Tenderness and Brandy. The Highlanders were indeed still ready to flock blindly around the standards of their chiefs, but there was now no supreme spirit to launch them at full tide on the soldiers of the plains ; there was no name to charm more, only an Irish Cannon or an unknown Buchan in place of the gallant Graham. The fiendish rush of the horde broke and was shivered at Dunkeld on the steady pikes of the grim and pious Cameronians, and their host was finally surprised by night on the haughs of Cromdale, when the leaders were fain to escape in the scantiest attire into the mists of the mountains. " The English horse they were so rude, They bathed their hoofs in Highland blood." The battle of the Boyne, in July 1690, to use the words of the Memoirs written by the hand of James II., marked " the melancholy extinc- tion of the King's hopes and authority." The martial fury of the Celts among the picturesque hills of Scotland and the green meadows of Erin could not win back the throne for the feeble Popish despot ; the avalanche of 1689 had lost its soul, its cohesion, and its force ; it was broken up into heartless masses on the scattered braes and glens : Buchan was content to skulk in the remoter wilds of the western Highlands, until the dethroned mon- arch could assure his faithful Scots whether there was any hope of soon seeing the friendly lilies of France floating on the Grampians. "The King " and his " subjects " were equally in a bad plight. A cordon often thousand soldiers hemmed them in from trading with and plun- dering the lowland valleys ; the neglect of their cattle and of the little tillage that had supplied meal for their brose brought them to the verge of famine and to the necessity of assistance or surrender. The purse of the royal exile was also in a state of ebb. In the exhaustion of his resources during the last determined stand in Ireland he had " made a shift " to despatch a ship from Nantes to the relief of the destitute and desponding patriots, laden with flour, salt, flints, tobacco, drugs, and, above all things, larandy — for the bibulous proclivities of the Scottish Gael were as ravenous as the tastes of Red Indians and unconverted negroes, and had been bit- terly assailed by Acts of Parliament. More he was unable to promise after the wreck of the Jacobins (Jacobites we call them now) in Ireland. His Majesty was "too tender of their lives" to expose them to a desperate course ; a trifle of ;^200 was sent across to the suffering Episcopal clergy by the Popish exile " as a mark of his impartial love and charity ; " they might fight if they wished, but it would be wiser to make peace with Nero and wait for better times, when they might shake off the fetters of the unnatural son-in- law who had torn the crown from his sacred brow. Tarbat and Stair ; The Kirk and Highlanders. At this momentous crisis Scotland had the fortune to possess a host of clever politicians, who, if they brought around the Court of 467 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Orange the dangerous and despicable ele- ments of duplicity, greed, and ambition, were also able to contribute to the settlement of the seething elements the better endowments of perception, tact, energy, and determination. William had the wisdom, or the luck that goes for wisdom, to select the men for the hour, men it might not be of lofty and un- swerving principle, but who, when a certain goal was placed before them, would make for it with implicit obedience, and were able by splendid skill, unscrupulous craft, and unbend- ing determination, to grasp the means and place the prize in the hands of their master. Scotland had two burning questions, either with a blood-stained history : the one was the Kirk, the other was the Highlanders. The Dutch prince, ignorant of these two grave and tragic State questions, would not be able without the greatest care to hold the crown of Scotland on his head, and would probably endanger his seat upon the throne of England. The two statesmen to whom, perhaps, the highest niche of honour is due for consolidat- ing the Revolution in Scotland, and working out her union to England, were the plastic Sir George McKenzie, Viscount Tarbat, after- wards first Earl of Cromartie, and more pre- eminently still. Sir John Dalrymple, afterwards first Earl of Stair. He was the changeling son of a reputed " witch " and a pious judge, who, too, had been nicknamed a changeling, and was the author of a renowned legal treatise and a less renowned one on the Divine Attributes. So utterly, however, has the name of Stair been blasted by his con- nexion with one side incident of the Revolu- tion, known as the Massacre of Glencoe, that he has not even been allotted the dignity of a separate mention in the most extended dictionaries of Scottish biography. So true is Shakespeare's dictum — "The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones." He was the guide of his sovereign and the genial soul of the social circle ; yet, in spite of his wit, his imagination, his ready elo- quence, against which no Scotsman of his day could safely take up the cudgels, and his vast success as a statesman, his name is to most men now but the suggestion of an " infamous " massacre. But, after all, he was but one of many — the King and others were his fellows ; he was only the ablest repre- sentative of old Scotland in the tyrannical oppression of a shameless tyranny that, to use a homely expression, deserved all it got. Clans, be it remembered, exist not now ; in those days they were terrible living forces, lawless and dangerous associations, not mere memorial manes existing only to cherish "peaceful pageantry, social enjoyment, and family traditions. " 468 Estimate of Highland " Loyalty;" Treachery of the Aborigines. The Highlander was a grievance of the worst type to all peacefully disposed Scots- men. The clans and septs v/ere as little dependent on the Crown as are the Kroumirs or Beni Hassan of our day on the Bey of Tunis or the Sultan of Morocco. Their feuds form a ghastly and appalling tale of treachery and bloodshed. The records of the Scottish Privy Council during the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries are exceed- ingly sensational ; the pages bristle with the barbarous achievements of the aborigines of the isles and highlands. "The inhabitants of the Lowlands," says Sir Walter Scott, " were indeed aware that there existed in the extremity of the island, amid wilder moun- tains and broader lakes than their own, tribes of men called clans, living each under the rule of their own chief, wearing a peculiar dress, speaking an unknown language, and going armed even in the most ordinary and peaceful vocations. The more southern counties saw specimens of these men follow- ing droves of cattle, which were the sole ex- portable commodity of their country, plaided, bonneted, belted, and brogued, and driving their bullocks, as Virgil is said to have spread his manure, with an air of great dignity and consequence. To their nearer Lowland neigh- bours they were known by more fierce and frequent causes of acquaintance ; by the forays which they made upon the inhabi- tants of the plains, and the tribute, or pro- tection-money, which they exacted from those whose possessions they spared." That is really a gentle and generous picture of the Gael. No ordinary adjective can ex- press the intense and deserved hatred and detestation of them which existed in the Lowlands till quite recent times. It is almost provoking to a true student to hear a word spoken in favour of the Highland Jacobins. We admire the staunchness of their loyalty, yet it is contemptible from a statesman's point of view. It was simply a wider feeling of clanship, — a graft on the reverence for a chief; only the larger growth of a blind barbaric serfdom. They had only for two or three decades made the slightest show of submission to law when Montrose led them out — like the Red Indians in the American war a hundred years later — to interfere in the constitutional government of Britain by true and serious patriots, who and whose ancestors had thought and toiled and bled for many centuries in the best interests of the country ; these Stuart kings, and their Claverhouse, had dared to flourish the savage plumes of the armed " Highland host " — ignorant of all that was national, theological, or urbane — for the persecution of the pious A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY. "hillmen" of southern Scotland; besides, the dans were fascinated by plunder, and had no particular horror of assassination. To decide how to deal with these abori- gines m a grave crisis like the Revolution of 1688, we must cast aside to-day's senti- mental ethics and place ourselves in the arena of the time. How were statesmen to deal with the bull that rushed from the mountains upon the civilization of Britain ? No one of the clans could well cast a stone at another. Cruelty and treachery, rapacity and rebellion, embellish the annals of them all. The struggle for the subjection and im- provement of the Highlands and the Isles had been carried on for centuries, and the policy had been to dash the hostile tribes against each other, or, to use the old Scotch phrase, " set one devil to ding another." King James IV. had struck the first effective blow by breaking up the lordship of the Isles, and by crushing and forfeiting the Macdonalds — such as the sept of Glencoe — who attempted to revive it. It is unfair to single out any clan for specimens of treachery, but we may refer to one conspicuous ex- ample of that period. Maclean of Duart, after taking a leading part in the rebellion of 15 13 to place young Donald of Lochalsh on the throne of the Isles, offered his service to the Government, and promised to act with double zeal in destroying " the wicked blood of the Isles ; for as long as that blood reigns, the kings shall never have the Isles in peace, whenever they find an opportunity to break loose, as is evident from daily experience." A later instance of the savage treachery of a Maclean chief is found in a massacre of 1 588. On the very night on which Maclan of Ardnamurchan (the head of a powerful Macdonald sept that was crushed by Argyll in 1624, took to piracy, and finally sank among the clan Ranald) was married under Maclean's own roof to that chieftain's mother, the infainous host caused a number of the Maclans to be slain ; he marched at dead of night into the bridal chamber, and but for the eager entreaty of the newly married wife would have sacrificed her husband, who was then mercifully doomed by his step-son to the tortures of a dungeon. Letters of Fire and Sword ; Projected Massacre by James VI. The ordinary process of law was in most cases unavailing for the capture of criminals. The chiefs of hostile clans were accustomed to obtain " letters of fire and sword" from the Privy Council, such as the commission given to the laird of Mackintosh in 1688 against Coll of the Cows, the chief of the Macdonalds of Keppoch, one of Dundee's most vigorous supporters and among the fiercest warriors that ever trode the hills of Scotland. The order to burn houses and corn, and to destroy man, woman, and child, was carried out with ruthless severity, and the rebel chief was driven among the moun- tains. Such tragedies were lamentably common. Not till the reign of James VI. were any serious steps taken by Parliament to bring the lawless Highlands more directly under the control of the Government. Chiefs and landlords were commanded to find sureties for the peaceful behaviour of their vassals ; the King, in 1596, summoned all the nobles, freeholders of a certain rental, and burgesses of the realm, under pain of death and for- feiture, to assemble with ships and arms at Dumbarton in order to proceed against the rebels of the West ; all the inhabitants of the Isles and Highlands were in the following year ordered to "come compear" at Edin- burgh and show their title-deeds; the royal mandate charged them with frustrating His Majesty of his rents and service, with "barbarous inhumanity," which caused the fertile ground and rich fishings to be worth- less, and with "neither entertaining any civil or honest society amongst themselves, neither yet admitted others ... to traffic within their bounds with safety of their lives and goods." In 1607 the Scottish Solomon determined on a measure of the most dreadful character, and empowered Lord Huntly " to extirpate the barbarous people of the Isles isjithin a year." The moral capacity of the Gordon chief for executing this gigantic feat of exter- mination had been shown by his vigorous execution of former letters of fire and sword against the Mackintosh, when he threatened even the wife of the chieftain, and uttered the rudely humorous menace that he would "cut her tail above her houghs." Had not an accident befallen Huntly and destroyed the compact, the result would have far eclipsed the horrors of the Glencoe massacre. Fortu- nately for the memory of James, this project was superseded by the sweeping but milder Statutes of Icolmkill (1609) and other agree- ments, by which the northern chiefs were called upon to deliver up their strongholds and their war galleys ; to submit themselves to the jurisdiction of the laws ; to remedy the "ignorance and incivility" of the High- lands, all gentlemen owning sixty cattle were to send their youth to the Lowlands to learn to read, speak, and write English, as became the children of barons and gentlemen ; the household of the chiefs was to be diminished, and the hosts of sorners — masterless vaga- bonds who lived at free quarters on the poor natives — were to be punished as thieves and oppressors ; the bards were threatened with the stocks and banishment ; the inhabitants were not to import for sale any wine or brandy, the inordinate love of which was one 469 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. of the main causes of their poverty and their inhuman barbarity ; handfasting (marrying for a term of years) was declared illegal ; none but the chiefs were to wear armour ; the land was to be let to tenants at fixed rents ; and the " beastly and barbarous in- humanities" were to be assuaged by a more solemn observance of the Sabbath, and by the devoted services of an increased supply of orthodox Presbyterian pastors. Tarbat's Golden Bait for settling THE Highlands. One of the charges levelled against the dethroned Stuart by the Scottish Convention, when they sent up Sir John Dalrymple and two other deputies to London with an offer of the crown to William, was that he had not taken " an effectual course to repress the depredations and robberies by the Highland clans." The astute Viscount Tarbat, who knew that the haughtiest bosom beyond the Grampians was not unimpressionable to the argument of a bribe, accepted a commission from the King, in which he was authorized, "for encouraging the Highlanders to return to their duty, ... to offer such honour under that of Earl, and such sums of money not exceeding ^2000 sterling, to any one chief and tribe." The Viscount, however, was personally without sufficient immediate in- fluence, but he attempted to secure a power- ful, insinuating, and unscrupulous agent in the person of the Earl of Breadalbane, one of the greatest Highland princes, whose vast estates stretched far into the wildest districts of the north, and were fringed by the glens and mountains of several of the disaffected chiefs. However broad his acres and nume- rous his vassals — of whom he could bring at least fifteen hundred into the field — very little gold ever found its way into the pockets of the semi-civilized prince. Tarbat shrewdly suspected that the offer of ^5000 to him for the conclusion of a " cessation of arms" would be eagerly grasped at. The fair-complexioned chief was not likely to have any nice scruples on this or any other business, for with all the grave and lofty bearing of a Spanish grandee, he was " as cunning as a fox, as wise as a serpent, and as slippery as an eel," although perhaps in some of these qualities he scarcely surpassed several other Scottish peers, such as Argyll, Hamilton, and Athole. Unfortu- nately the " encouragement" was rejected by Campbell, greedy and cunning as he was, for at that moment Balcarres, Linlithgow, and other Jacobites were intriguing with the extreme Presbyterian party for the overthrow of the new Government ; he was in the thick of the plot, and, by the advice of his Jacobite comrades, he refused, no doubt with great sorrow, the golden bait of Tarbat. The scheme, however, does not appear to have been long lost sight of by the sinuous Bread- albane or the clever politicians who were deftly rounding off the corners of the Scottish edifice ; after deliberating on the merits of other possible agents, like the Earl of Men- teith, they decided on the superiority of their first love, and pocketing the previous affront, they chartered Breadalbane again, in th e autumn of 1690, to bring the dangerous High- land cargo into the haven of submission. Christmas Letter. of a pious Colonel; Change of Tone : The Scheme of Extermination. The Fort of Inverlochy, or Fort William, lay at the base of the giant mountain of Ben Nevis, in the centre of the nest where all the Highland schemes of rebeUion were hatched. Sitting there on Christmas Day in 1690, its pious and gentle governor, Colonel Hill, wrote with evident satisfaction of the brighter prospects that had begun to dawn ; that the brave Lochiel and the ferocious Keppoch had submitted to " the associate gentlemen" a proposal of sur- render ; that some of the chieftains had ex- acted an oath from their people against stealing or receiving stolen goods ; and that Sir Ewan had given earnest of his honesty and zeal by actually hanging a man for robbery. Sir John Dalrymple, who had just been appointed Secretary of State, and had accompanied his royal master to the seat of war on the Continent, wrote home in February 1 69 1, in his peculiarly vigorous and terse style, his opinion that there was no chance that year of a Jacobite invasion ; he hinted that the expectation of French troops by them was " a mere delusion with vain dreams," and to entertain it was to " aban- don the common sentiments of mankind to make their native country a cockpit." But the fall of Mons in the early spring before the arms of the great French general, Luxemburg, regarded as a most serious disaster by King William, was quickly fol- lowed by rumours of an invasion, which spread freely through Edinburgh, and awoke in the glens of the north the old expectation of the triumphant lilies of King Louis. Sir Thomas Livingston, commander-in- chief of the Scottish forces, the Lords of the Treasury, the pious colonel who occupied Fort William in the very hotbed of the High- land rebels, were thrown into a state of fierce excitement, growled at each other, and bandied about accusations as to the wretched condition of the army. Livingston was posi- tive that the north would go to the dogs with such a weak and gentle governor as Hill at Inverlochy ; he was eager to exone- rate himself from the blame of the catastrophe that all supposed impending : it was im- possible, he said, to concentrate the troops. 470 ( A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY The Lords were without funds ; they had 'only 1800 bolls of meal in store, and they Tvere in urgent need of 1000 fresh firelocks, 300 brace of pistols, and 300 barrels of powder. Hill's Christmas hopes and senti- ments had altogether disappeared by May- day. He breathed out threatening and slaughter. Havelock was changed to Crom- well. The gentle soldier who was proud to speak of his men as sober and God-fearing was roused to a thirst for vengeance when ■Tie saw his Highland hopefuls retreat in dis- gusting haste to their old path and look for .aid from Irish rapparees and French troops ; he had no expectation now of the surrender of the great castle of Duart on the Isle of Mull, a fortress of many tragically savage memories. Glengarry, too, had begun to fortify his house of Invergarry. The man of peace was driven to desperation. If they rose again, he wished that " all the west ■country and all the clans whom they have injured may be let loose upon them till they be utterly rooted out." He had abandoned his former Christian suggestion of pensioning the chiefs during good conduct for the old Scottish method of a massacre. But he scarcely meant this tall talk in earnest. The Privy Council sent him orders to "fall upon those Highlanders within his reach" who did not forthwith give up their arms and take the oath ; he was also to destroy their cows, in other words, reduce the natives to a state of total destitution. This command made him somewhat nervous. He replied that with all his eagerness to press forward those methods for His Majesty's service " which wiser men than I judge convenient," he was not able to work miracles and subdue the entire High- lands with his handful of soldiers. He pointed out that the surrender of arms would prove a mockery, as in Mull and Athole, where the men had only parted with "some old rusty trash;" the men of the glens and mountains could not be expected — any more than the Basutos of our day — to surrender the sword and gun, which were their most precious heirlooms, and thus place themselves at the mercy of other savages, their hereditary foes. Breadalbane, provided by Queen Anne with the promise of money for bribes, was busy with his strange and secret diplomacy in the early summer. Hill was recovering once more his hopeful attitude, although he had his eyes opened to the shameless treachery of the Highlander. On all sides he saw that the common people, in spite of the report that six thousand Frenchmen were coming, longed for peace ; in Skye, and on the braes of Lochaber, the Macdonalds would welcome it ; so would the Cameron men ; Glencoe and Appin desired their vassals to take the oath from their superior, Maccallum More. A number, too, of the chiefs and "gentle- men " were willing to submit ; the pride of the separate clans was the main obstacle. The great Sir Ewan had announced that he would not stir to rise in arms, and that the gentlemen and people of his name might act at their own pleasure ; as for himself, " he stood upon a point of honour with his con- federates that they should not accuse him as the first to break the ice." The news was altogether too exhilarating for Hill, too good to be true. " I trust in the Lord," he said, when he heard that some of the chiefs had hastened from their homes to meet the French frigates on the coast. Castle of Achai,lader ; Glencoe ac- cused ; Barbarities of his Sept ; Rob Roy's Brother-in-law. His ancient castle of Achallader in Glen- orchy, now a heap of ruins, was the spot chosen by Breadalbane for the delicate and mysterious meetings with the rebel chiefs. The old fortalice is now in ruins. It stands amid the wild and bleak moorlands of Argyll, on the Perthshire border, at the north-east end of Loch ToUa, near the tremendous soli- tude of the Rannoch, and a few miles from the desolate region of the Macdonalds of Glencoe. It was not a day's walk from Ben Nevis, to the west and east of which dwelt the Camerons of Lochiel and the Keppoch Macdonalds in the Braes of Lochaber. By the wayside the tourist passing into Glencoe or across the Devil's Staircase towards Fort William sees groups of stately deer wander- ing through the vast preserve of Corichbad, the property of the modern Breadalbane. On the 30th of June, 1691, the final con- ference was held in the ancient fortalice. The harmony of the day was not remarkable : such a gathering could at no time be so ; and the two sons of old Sandy Macdonald of Glencoe heard in the " town " of Achallader that the great Perthshire chief had sought a quarrel with their father about some cows the Glen- coe men were alleged to have stolen from the vassals of Breadalbane. The accusation was probably a just one. This sept of Macdonalds, living in a desolate and dreary glen, could not subsist except by " creachs," or predatory forays, on their neighbours ; the naked and precipitous mountains which shot up from either side of the roaring Cona could support but a small sprinkling even of wild animals, such as red deer, hares, foxes, eagles, ptar- migan, and a chance moorcock. They had long been the thievish and ferocious allies of the broken clan of Macgregor, the most " wicked and lawless limmers " that ever robbed and murdered in the glens and valleys of stern Caledonia. A hundred years had rolled by since the Macdonalds had perpe- trated a terrible outrage on Drummond of 471 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Drummondernoch. Some of the young mem- bers of the clan, wandering from the wild and poor recesses of their own mountains, were captured by the royal foresters in the act of carrying off deer in the forest of Glenartney, and were sent home with their ears cropped. The Macdonalds vowed vengeance, slew Drum- mond, the chief author of the inhuman act, and having cut off his head, proceeded with confidence to the house of his married sister at Ardvoirlich (the " Darlinvaroch " of the " Legend of Montrose ") on the southern shore of Loch Earn. It was with no small fear that the lady received these formidable strangers, whose visits on former occasions had been in the unwelcome trade of freebooting ; but in the absence of her husband she was obliged to make some show of Highland hospitality, and placed some bread and cheese before her guests. On her leaving the room the savage ruffians brought forth her brother's bloody head, and placing it on the table, put a piece of bread and cheese in its mouth. When she returned and saw the ghastly spectacle, the poor woman rushed from the house in a state of the wildest distraction, and wandered in that harvest season over the hills and glens a wretched maniac, living on the wild berries that grew in the loneHest spots. Her discon- solate husband sought fruitlessly for her among the woods and mountains. A famished female figure was at last seen by some milk- maids lurking among the brushwood on the higher pastures of Ardvoirlich ; they flew to their master with the news that they had wit- nessed the apparition of his lady's ghost : and the husband, who guessed the truth, succeeded in capturing her. The Macdonalds, after their barbarous procedure, carried the head to their associates at Balquhidder ; and the chief of the Clan Gregor, with the whole sur- name, " purposely conveined," says the decree of fire and sword issued against the enactors and abettors of this abominable tragedy, " upon the next Sunday thereafter, at the Kirk of Buchquhidder ; where they caused the said umquhill [whilom] John's head to be presented to them, and there avowing the said murder, laid their hands upon the pow [poll], and in ethnic and barbarous manner swore to defend the authors of the said mur- der." A century had passed, and the Glencoe men were still the allies of the Macgregors. Sandy Macdonald, the second son of the old chieftain who wore the ferocious horn-like moustachios, was married to Sarah Macgregor, a sister of Rob Roy, and assisted his father- in-law in thievish depredations as far south as the vicinity of the banks of the Clyde. Old Macdonald did not return to his native glen from the conference at Achallader in a contented state of mind ; he talked to his sons and others of a threat of mischief which Breadalbane had uttered, and the menace of so powerful a chief against his little sept caused him to be alarmed. He was heard to speak of there having been " blood " in former times betwixt Breadalbane's family and the clan. That was true, doubtless, but too much has been made of the statement, for the whole race of Campbell and the whole race of Donald were hereditary foes. It is true, also, that Breadalbane, although he had become an earl and, moving about among refined society, had been slightly veneered by the habits of civilized life, still clung at heart to the old crafty and revengeful Highland in- stincts ; and while he sought to conceal the fact, he was as ready as his " ethnic " neigh- bours to despatch his vassals on a creagh, and take his lion's share of the plunder. The Armistice ; Dalrymple's Object. The conference at Achallader on the 30th of June, 1 69 1, closed with a "cessation of arrrs"for three months. Its secret articles show the audacity and obstinacy of the High- land chiefs : they are defiant even to insult. The rebels required permission to ask a warrant for their surrender from the Stuart Court at St. Germains ; ^12,000 "to refund them of the great expenses and losses they had sus- tained by the war," otherwise they could not prevent their impoverished people from com- mitting depredations on their Lowland neigh- bours ; the purchase by the King of the superiorities claimed over their lands in any way by landlords like Argyll and Mackintosh •^the most degrading of all circumstances in the eyes of a haughty chief ; and among the other strange articles, the startling condition that Breadalbane, "manager" for the Go- vernment, should give his oath and honour to bring a thousand men to the side of the chiefs if William and Mary did not accept the terms offered ! Dalrymple, the Scottish Secretary, was determined on taking advantage of the armistice. " Their doing," he said shrewdly, " after King James's allowance is worse than their obstinacy, for those who lay down their arms at his command will take them up at his warrant." A mysterious, and perhaps suspicious, game of King and Queen was car- ried on at this juncture. Dalrymple ordered the commander-in-chief to keep his force of ten thousand men close on the Highland border and be on the alert for further orders. The Queen instantly countermanded its pro- gress. Stewart of Appin, young Sandy Macdonald (Rob Roy's brother-in-law), and others, violating the armistice by seizing some of the King's soldiers, were caught napping, and conveyed by sea to the Tolbooth of Glasgow : they were immediately set at liberty by the Queen's order. Dalrymple's mind was made up as to carrying out the scheme of extermination ; 47: A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY. not that he was inspired by the fiendish lust of blood which had animated the " Spanish bloodhounds/' Alva and Vargas, in their massacres in the Netherlands where he now lived : he is not to be likened to a King Theebaw or an Ashanti despot. He had two objects in view : to create abroad the impression that all parties had accepted William as their sovereign, and for this pui- pose it was necessary that the Highland- ers should take the oath of allegiance ; to draw off certain troops from Scotland in order to as- sist in the Con- tinental cam- paign — and for this pur- pos e it was necessary that the more im- portant of the Highland strongholds should be surrendered and garrison- ed by loyal troops, so as to hold the rebels in awe, and that the mock submis sion should be made a real one, by stamp- ing it on the treacherous memories of the aborigines by the simple method of slaughtering every clan and every man that refused to take the oath. His plan, and the plan of his coadjutors, Pass of Killiecrankie was to obtain a real submission ; but it was hoped, and it was believed, that some would tiold out through obstinacy ; these septs were to be rooted out, hunted from their holes and shot down like beasts of prey. Prepara- tions were made, and tools secured for striking the blow at these banditti. It was as thieves, as incorrigible savages born with ineradicable instincts that hated industry and good order, that they incurred the fierce political wrath and vengeance of Dalrymple. The Royal Indemnity; The Council PUZZLED. In the month of August the Lords of the Privy Council issued a proclamation as an effective supplement to the tardy, secret, and '^ii'^Dinous negotiations of Breadalbane.' Its piofessed ob- ject was to re- duce theHigh- lands " from 1 a pi n e and ai ms to virtue and industry," 1)\ the extinc- tion of ancient feuds; it offered pardon of all robber- ies, treasons, rebellions, and other crimes, tosuchas took the oath of alleg ianc e from sheritts or sherift"-de- putes before the first day of January, 1692. Exact lists of those who submit- ted were to be sent, at the highest peril to those who were responsi- ble, to the clerks of the Council with- in ten days of the expiry of this time of grace ; rebels who remained incorrigible were to be punished with the utmost ex- tremity of the law. The pro- c lam at i on 473 contained one clause which it is well to bear in mind in view of the horrid massacre which closed the episode : The ministers of the law were called upon "to interpret this indemnity in the most favourable and ample manner." The document was printed, and was pro- claimed at every market cross in the kingdom of Scotland. The royal letter on which this proclamation EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. was based seems to show that for once in Scottish history the fiat of government would "be carried out, that the threat of punishment was not to be the mere empty blast of a trumpet. It was a land bill and a coercion bill in one. It proposed the purchase of the lands and superiorities of the chiefs, so that they might be immediately dependent on the Crown, and be relieved from the deep degra- dation of vassalage to rival chiefs ; but it also commanded the Council to order the Governor of Inverlochy and other officers to be " exact and diligent in their several posts ; but that they show no more zeal against the Highland- ers after their submission than they have ever done formerly wheti they were in open rebel- lion." The Lords were staggered by this ex- pression ; they thought it "somewhat unclear," and asked an explanation from the King as it might be misunderstood by the officers. Pos- sibly they imagined that the document, which was drawn up and subscribed by Dalrymple, had been hurriedly superscribed by William in the fatigue of the camp. Doubtless the fimbiguity was there of set purpose, for Wil- liam's secretary was the master of clear and forcible expression. There is no reason to doubt that the King was completely cognisant of Dalrymple's programme : he detested the name of Scotland, and once expressed the wish that that fractious hot-bed of theology were a thousand miles away. The Council, in obedience to the royal in- structions, issued orders for the surrender of the great Highland castles. Dalrymple had pointed out the importance of garrisons in Ellandonan, Invergarry, and elsewhere ; the rebellious clans would not be able to sleep in peace with these watch-towers all around as stern reminders of their submission. Weeks passed, and the chiefs continued to higgle with Breadalbane over the amount of money each should receive from the treasury. Submission was the smallest topic in their thoughts. Glengarry was the most hot-headed opponent of a surrender ; and while debating over his share in the bribe, he was busily spreading rumours through the Highlands of a fresh invasion ; it was reported even that the Pope had presented an immense sum of gold to King James. The chiefs knew the character of Breadalbane ; the name of Camp- bell was synonymous with craft and avarice, and they feared that after all they might never lay their fingers on a single penny of the royal bonus. The wily diplomatist as- sured his northern friends that the money was safely locked up in a box in London. He was even accused of constantly preaching to them in public and private that he was as faithful to James as any of them, that he would show his true colours in the nick of time, that his submission to the Prince of Orange was only given to save himself and his family from ruin. Colonel Hill was quietly watching him and reporting the results to Dalrymple. Breadalbane stormed at the officer as the tool of his ruin, and the ob- structor of his country's peace ; and Hill re- plied that his "proceedings were bottomed on low condescension and mean proposals." The Council whispered dark hints of Bread- albane's treachery into His Majesty's ear ; but the King remarked with his usual brevity that men who manage treaties must use fair words. Dalrymple cheered his worthy tool, and assured him that all the devices of his enemies would only strengthen his favour in the royal eyes. " Dalrymple's Mauling Scheme." One evening in October, Viscount Tarbat paid a visit to the Earl of Linlithgow, one of the Treasury commissioners, at his Edinburgh mansion, in deep anxiety about the news that the Macdonalds and others were not likely to come in. He was distressed about the chief of Sleat, and also about Glengarry, and letters — not the first — from Tarbat to those deter- mined rebels, urging them to make their peace, were sent by the Earl to Breadalbane. In a few days we find the conclave — Dal- rymple, Tarbat, Linlithgow, Oueensberry, and others — gathered around the King and Queen in London, discussing with them the project of extermination, and taking the liveliest in- terest in the correspondence that was con- stantly arriving from Breadalbane. The chiefs continued to grumble at the unfairness of the proposed distribution of the money ; and the King himself condescended to enter into the discussion of this question of minute detail. Dalrymple, although he could not bear the slightest personal grudge against any of the Highland chiefs, warmed the Highland blood of his tool, Breadalbane, into a thirst for vengeance against the " in- veterate enemies" of his clan, more espe- cially the Macdonalds. Extracts from some of these letters will exhibit the cool manner in which those statesmen contemplated and hoped for the extermination of the Highland rebels. "Both Glengarry and Keppoch," wrote Dalrymple on the 27th of October, "are Pa- pists, and that is the only Papist clan in the Highlands. Who knows, but by God^s pro- vidence they are permitted to fall into this delusion, that they may only be extirpated, which willvindicate their Majesty's justice, and reduce the Highlands without further severity to the rest .'' " Linlithgow wrote four days later in the same lively strain about the " last standers out" : " I know the King does not care that some do it, that lie may make examples of them." On the 3rd of November Dalrymple in- 474 A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY formed Breadalbane that he had shown the King his letter of the 27th. " I wrote to you formerly that if the rest were willing to concur, as the crows do, to pull down Glengarry's nest this winter, so as the King be not hin- dered to draw four regiments from Scotland, in that case the destroying him and his clan and garrisoning his house . . . will be full as acceptable as if he had come in." In December the correspondence of Dalrymple assumed a tone of fierce eagerness. His words were sharpened into a keen edge. The pace of his passion increased like that -of a stone rolling down a hillside. At the beginning of December he speaks with glee of what he terms "the winter campaign." The smell of war on the Continent had accus- tomed him to martial ideas. It is not one insignificant sept that is to be swept out of existence ; the Camerons, Glengarry, Kep- poch, all the rest of the Macdonalds, Appin, the Macleans, are to be "rooted out" before they can get help from James. " God knows whether the ;^i 2,000 sterHng had been better employed to settle the Highlands or to ravage them." His pen has become restless ; he ■writes to Breadalbane on the very next day. He is maddened that these impecunious robber-chiefs should still be higgling about a few hundred pounds. "By the next I expect to hear either these people are come to your hand, or €i.'s>& your scheme formauling them. ... I am not changed as to the expe- diency of doing things by the easiest means, -and at leisure, but the madness of these people and their ingratitude to you makes me plainly see there is no reckoning on them ; but deletida est Carthago. Yet who have accepted and do take the oaths will be safe, but deserve no kindness ; and even in that case there must Tdc hostages of their nearest relations." In all this correspondence the Glencoe men were never once mentioned ; they were too insig- nificant : what he wished was not only a terrific example, but the seizure of some •castle for a good military post. " Because I breathe nothing but destruction to Glengarry, Tarbat thinks that Keppoch will be a more proper example of severity. But he hath not a house so proper for a garrison, and he hath not been so forward to ruin himself and all the rest. But I confess both's best to be ruined." Breadalbane closed his long and arduous task in complete failure, left his native country and the refractory chiefs, and proceeded to London by invitation to enjoy the Christmas festivities of the civilized me- tropolis. Lochiel might also have gone, had he been so minded ; a sum of ^200 was offered him by the royal agent to defray the expenses of the trip. At the same time Dalrymple — for in the capacity of Secretary of State for Scotland -he was compelled to appear above board, and accept the responsibility of the entire group of William's advisers, some of whom, indeed, had been utterly opposed to the offer of an indemnity to the Highlanders — secured fit military agents to carry out the scheme in its details. Colonel Hill was too gentle for the work of "mauling" ; by his own confes- sion he did not "like the business." But one of Hill's of^cers at Fort William was somehow recommended, and Dalrymple seems to have been so sure of his man, with whom he was hitherto unacquainted, that in the very first letter addressed to Lieutenant- Colonel Hamilton he writes with vigorous transparency and a reckless freedom : " It may be shortly we may have use of your garrison, for the winter time is the only season in which we are sure the Highlanders cannot escape us, nor carry their wives, bairns, and cattle to the mountains. The Clan Donald is generally Popish. Since the King hath to demonstration shown his exception, I am content that clan doth except itself." It was on the 3rd of December that he used the word " mauling " in his correspondence with Breadalbane. On the same day he wrote to Hamilton : " Let me hear from you with the first, whether you think this is the proper season to maul them in the long, coldmgfits* It never occurred to the minister that the world would be shocked; and although we cannot read these words without a shudder, Sir John Dalrymple declared it would be ^'popular to take severe course" with the Macdonalds, the only Popish clan in the kingdom ! The Chiefs submit; MacIan's Pride AND Blunder. In spite of the facts that the King's forces were on the alert in the Highland garrisons and on the confines of the Highland line, and that the chiefs must have been perfectly aware of the proposed measures of extermi- nation, — as the letters of Tarbat, Livingston, and Dalrymple show, — the oath was not administered by any sheriff or sheriff-depute to a single Jacobite chieftain when Christmas Day had come. What of the two messengers that had been despatched to the Court of St. Germains to consult the " tender " King James ? Six months had nearly passed since the conference of Achallader, and four since the proclamation of the royal indemnity. The exiled prince withheld his consent to the submission of the chiefs until the last moment consistent with their safety. His letter was dated from St. Germains on the 1 2th of December. The deputies hastened to London in a Government vessel ; the original missive was shown to the ministers of state, who retained it ; one of the messen- gers, Menzies, was provided with a copy, and travelled post with it from London, 475 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. reaching Dunkeld from Paris in the short space of eleven days. Overcome with fatigue, the eager deputy sent on the royal message to General Buchan at Invergarry. When Menzies arrived at the Highland border, and saw the royal forces ready to march, he was in a state of deep alarm ; he beseeched Buchan to send immediate ex- presses to all the chiefs to submit, and he requested Sir Thomas Livingston to suppli- cate the Council for an extension of the time of grace. The Commander of the Scottish forces laid the matter before the Council on the 5th of January. The heart of Colonel Hill was softened also, and on the 28th of December he wrote to Tarbat with a similar request. On Christmas Day the pious Colonel received a visit at Inverlochy from the greatest of all the chiefs, Sir Ewan Cameron, who was on his way to Inverness to take the oath, after which he was going straight to London to kiss the hand of King WilHam : so that, after all, Lochiel was "the first to break the ice " and lower the flag of Highland honour. The combination was broken like a Rupert's ball, and the other chieftains hastened like sheep in his footsteps to their respective sheriffs. The last to hold out was Alexander Macdonald, chief of the Clan Ian Abrach, which owned but the small and bar- ren domain of Glencoe, and numbered only a hundred fighting men, but claimed the proud dignity of representing a special line of the Macdonalds. The haughty and venerable chief gave way, like the rest of his kinsmen, and on the 31st day of December presented himself at Fort William, some fifteen miles distant from Glencoe, in order to take the oath. But the governor of that garrison was not empowered to administer it. The proper person to do so was the sheriff or sheriff-depute of Argyll- shire, some eighty miles away, at Inverary. Wild torrents, terrific passes, snow-covered tracks through desolate glens and over mountains lay between the old man and his destination. The tender-hearted colonel furnished the chieftain with a letter to Sir Colin Campbell, the sheriff-depute of Argyll, recommending him to mercy. It was good, he said, to bring in a lost sheep at any time. With this kindly missive the gigantic " lost sheep " with the fierce moustachios turned his face southward, wending his wild and weary way over mountain and glen, through the tempestuous weather, not even stopping — as his son afterwards declared — when he crossed the ferry over the Leven, to visit his home- stead, though it lay at only half an hour's distance. Captain Drummond detained him at Barcaldin for four-and-twenty hours. When he arrived at Inverary, three days more elapsed before Sir Colin appeared, 476 owing to the bad weather that in due course was sweeping over those desolate regions. At first he declined to accept the offer of allegiance from Glejicoe, until the old chief- tain besieged him with tears, promising at the same time to bring in all his people quickly, and have them imprisoned or sent to Flanders if they refused to take the oath and submit to King William. The sheriff- depute despatched the list of those who had taken the oath at Inverary, among them the name of Alexander Macdonald of Glencoe upon the 6th of January, to the sheriff of Argyll at Edinburgh : and he accompanied the list with Hill's missive about the lost sheep. The clerks of the Council, puzzled as to how to deal with this case of late sub- mission, laid the matter before one of the Privy Councillors, Sir Colin Campbell of Aberuchill, a Perthshire laird and a lord of session. He spoke, or said he spoke, to several members of the Council, although he did not put the question formally before that body, as ought to have been done ; and on his authority the clerks scored out the name of Macdonald of Glencoe. Meanwhile the old rnan had returned to his native glen. He summoned his people together, told them he had made his peace, and desired them to live as faithful subjects of King WiUiani. Preparation for the "Rooting Out." Dalrymple did not forget the Highland thieves amid the festivities with which his countrymen welcome the new-born year. It never for a moment occurred to him that the prey he had been licking for six months would at the last moment creep out of his clutches. The news as to the submissions had not yet reached London ; it was only one day after. old Glencoe had sworn at Inverary to be a faithful subject to ^ King William, when the Secretary, determined on taking time and the rebels by the forelock, wrote to Sir Thomas Livingston to have his forces ready, with grenades, shovels, and other warlike instruments for the campaign against the "barbarous people," the "deluded devils." The v/hole of Lochaber, the lands of Lochiel, of Keppoch, of Glengarry, of Appin, and of Glencoe, were to be " entirely destroyed." Charity would invite us to set down a portion of his ferocity to the social excitements of the season. " I assure you their [the troops'] power shall be full enough, and I hope the soldiers will not trouble the Government with prisoners. It's true it's a rigid season for the soldiers to work, but it's the only time they cannot escape you ; for human consti- tution cannot endure to be now long out of houses." The imagination of the writer is so vivid that he forgets for the moment that he is in the south of England and not among A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY. the deep snows and biting winds of the Scottish mountains. Two days later he wrote to the commander, lamenting that Lochiel and others had submitted. " I am sorry," he said, " that Keppoch and McKean of Glencoe are safe." But there were still left the Macdonald of Skye, Grant of Glenmoriston, and his chief desire, Macdonald of Glengarry : and on the I ith of January, orders, superscribed and sub- scribed by the King, were sent to Livingston, commanding him to march the troops at Inverness and Inverlochy against the rebels who had not taken the benefit of the in- demnity, " by fire and sword and all manner of hostility, to burn their houses, seize or destroy their cows or cattle, plenishing, or clothes, and to cut off the men. '' Several of the loyal clans had been ordered out to assist in the work of destruction, on the lines of the old Scottish policy of setting " one devil to ding another" — a sufficient guarantee that there would be little mercy. The " yeomen and commonalty " might receive quarter and indemnity for life and fortune on taking the oath and surrendering their arms, but no such grace was to be extended to chieftains, heritors, and leaders ; and if their lives were spared, they were to be treated as prisoners of war. On the i6th, additional instructions, superscribed and subscribed like the former ones, were sent to Livingston and Hill. In these Maclan of Glencoe is singled out for vengeance. Glengarry was to be spared if he took the oath and surrendered his lofty, rock-perched castle by Loch Oich ; other rebels were to surrender "upon mercy;" but " if McKean of Glencoe and that tribe can be well separated from the rest, it will be a proper vindication of the public justice to extirpate that sept of thieves." If we turn from these public documents to the correspondence of Dalrymple with Livingston, whom he begins to pet and cajole as " dear Sir Thomas," when pressing on him the necessity of stern measures, we shall find the instructions interlined with language of picturesque ferocity. In it we read the secret of the massacre. When he was writing to the commander on the nth of January, Argyll, who joined in the work of blood with the spirit of his race, seems to have dropped in upon him with the welcome news that after all Glencoe had not taken the oath — " at which I rejoice ; it's a great work of charity to be executed in rooting out that damnable sept, the worst in all the High- lands." In correspondence of later date with the gentle Hill and " dear Sir Thomas," who has had impressed upon him already the circumstances that the orders for destruction bore the King's own genuine signature at top and bottom, and that they gave full powers while they left the plan of execution to Livingston's own genius, the Secretary broadly hints to him what it would be best to do : " By no means leave anything standing ouL. . . I entreat that the thieving tribe in Glencoe may be rooted out in earnest. . . To harry their cattle or burn their houses is but to render their {sic) desperate, lawless men to rob their neighbours ; but I believe you will be satisfied it were a great ad- vantage to the nation that thieving tribe were rooted out and cut off It must be quietly done " — not because the affair might get wind; oh, no! but "otherwise they will make shift for both the men and their cattle." Argyll and Breadalbane were ready allies in such a pleasant game as the ex- termination of these irrepressible foes of the Campbells and of all industry : Argyll's detachment " lies in Keppoch Well to assist the garrison to do all on a sudden. . . . Pray, when anything concerning Glencoe is re- solved, let it be secret and sudden, other- wise the men will shift you, and better not meddle with them than not to do it to purpose." The Campbells quartered in Glencoe. The Scottish officers could not fail to grasp the intention of the Government. The news of the determination to root out entirely the Macdonalds of Glencoe was received in Edinburgh with warm welcome. But they were not the only clan that was doomed, as historians persistently assert. They were, however, the worst gang of thieves left, and were therefore set down as the first article in the delicious programme. The Secretary's great object of securing Glengarry's castle, however, was first attained, and the soldiers, under Captain Robert Campbell of Glenlyon, moved southwards, crossed the ferry of Loch Leven, and entered the valley of Glehcoe. The appearance of Glenlyon, along with Lieutenant Lindsay, Ensign Lundy, and one hundred and twenty men of Argyll's regiment on the 1st of February, was calculated to cause alarm to the Macdonalds of Glencoe. It was an unwonted sight, and perhaps for the first time in their long history did the in- habitants look upon the army of a Scottish sovereign in their sequestered valley. The most obnoxious and the most exciting feature of the invasion was the fact that the men who ventured into the pass were not merely soldiers of King William, but, worse than that, members of the hated and hostile clan of Campbell. The mission could mean no good, it might well be thought, under the colours of Argyll ; as Burton has expressed it, " The boa constrictor might as well be expected to visit the tiger's den as a minister of peace, as the Campbells to go in force into the country of the Macdonalds without bloody intentions." Still, when the eldest 477 EPOCHS AhD EPISODES OF HISTORY. son of Maclan went down to meet the invaders with a company of twenty men, saw the orders of blunt and honest Hill for quartering the soldiers, — the good-hearted governor who had written that touching letter for the " lost sheep," and was known to be incapable of a cruel or dishonourable word or action, — and passed a pleasant greeting with the captain, whose sister was the mother of his brother Sandy's wife, the fear was changed into a thorough Highland welcome, such as the poet Burns scarcely hoped for on his exit from this present terrene state. Yet just there lay the depth of the treachery : the friendly face of Glen- lyon was the smiling mask of the assassin. Doubtless, if Dalryniple, or Tarbat, or Linlithgow, or Queensberry, could have had a glimpse into the distant Highland glen, they would have grinned and chuckled at the pleasant interview of these aboriginal savages ; Argyll and Breadalbane would have gazed or shouted with the delight born of their native instincts. The Macdonalds made merry with their strange visitors, — merrier, we might be allowed to guess, for in such circuuistances as theirs the mirth was certain to be some- what hysterical. It was no easy matter for the small clan to accommodate so many visi- tors under the thatched roofs of their rude huts ; yet there was sufficient usquebaugh with which they might regale themselves during the long, cold winter nights, which Dalrymple, by his warm fire in London, had pictured to himself as excellent for the purpose of maul- ing ; and there were at least one thousand five hundred cattle and thousands of goats and sheep, which pastured on the greener and more sheltered spots of the valley and the slopes. Near the mouth of the roaring Coe, where the glen has not assumed its aspect of utter wildness and nakedness, there is a little bit of pleasant woodland scenery : an avenue of old ash and plane trees leads the tourist to the ruin of Invercoe, marking, it is said, the homestead of the old chief. Further up the glen there were a few groups of huts, the nearest to the mouth of the pass being that of Inverigan, where Glenlyon had his quar- ters ; close by was the hamlet of Auchnaion, where another party was lodged, under the command of Ensign Barber. For twelve short days and twelve long nights the time seems to have passed pleasantly enough, the captain calling at the chiefs every day for his " morning drink," — something merrier, to use the language of an old Irish poem, than the cold ale of Fingal : the two brothers played cards of an evening by the glow of the peat fire in the quarters of Glenlyon. There would be no dearth of weird and stirring tales. The clear stream that roared down the wild glen into Loch Leven was the Cona of Ossian, which the old bard or bards- had immortalized : he or they had described it as fed by a thousand torrents, that after a stormy night turned their dark eddies beneath the pale light of the morn, — had sung of the thunder of night, when the cloud bursts on Cona and a thousand ghosts shriek at once on the hollow wind, and of the high, blue, curling sides of the pass beneath which were the winds with their wings. On the evening of the 12th it was arranged that Glenlyon, Lieutenant Lindsay,, and Ensign Lundy should dine on the morrow in the house of the chief. The captain, at the time he was passing the late hours with his niece's husband over the cards- and usquebaugh, had the order in his pocket for the murder of " the old fox and his sons "■ before daylight reached the glen on the next morning. "His blithest notes the piper played, Her gayest snood the maiden tied, The dame her distaff flung aside. To tend her kindly housewifery. The hand that mingled in the meal, At midnight drew the felon steel." The Wheels that did the Work ; An Early Morning Call ; The Hand of A Lost Child. It is worth while to learn how Captain Campbell came to have that infamous order in his pocket, how the energy derived from the great wheel of State had passed into those minuter wheels which were armed with the savage teeth of the assassin. On the 23rd of January, General Livingston, aware of the slowness of Colonel Hill in "the exaction of such things," wrote to a gentleman with whom we are already familiar through the corre- spondence of Dalrymple, that Lieutenant Hamilton, at Inverlochy, to whom he had suggested the mauling of the Clan Donald in the long, cold nights. The commander informed the lieutenant that the Secretary of State had made special mention of the thiev- ing nest of Glencoe in his last three letters : " So, sir, here is a fair occasion for you to show that your garrison serves some use ; and being that the orders are so positive from Court to me not to spare any whatever not timely come in, as you may [see] by the orders I sent to your colonel, I desire you would begin with Glencoe, and spare nothing which belongs to him, but do not trouble the Government with prisoners." As we already know, a part of Argyll's regiment was quartered in Glencoe about a week later, under the command of Glenlyon, whose superior officer. Major Robert Dun- canson, had his quarters at Ballahulish, on the north side of the Leven, and almost, opposite the mansion of Maclan. Living- 478 A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY. ston's orders to Hill might possibly have been given, and were probably given, without the knowledge that the agents of destruction were to be entrusted with the butchery while living under the hospitable roofs of their victims. The Colonel, who " liked not the business," and from whose hands the power was virtually taken by his subordinate Ham- ilton, gave to this officer an order dated at Fort William on the 12th of February, which ran in general terms as follows : " You are with four hundred of my regiment, and the four hundred of my Lord Argyll's regiment under the command of Major Duncanson to march straight to Glencoe, and there put in due execution the orders you have received from the commander-in-chief." Hamilton then wrote to Duncanson to have his men stationed at the posts assigned him by seven o'clock on the following morning (Saturday), and that he would himself march to his own post with the party from the garrison to join in the action. He pointed out with due emphasis the necessity of Captain Campbell securing all the avenues on the south side of the glen, which had been set apart for his special attention, so that neither " the old fox nor none of his cubs get away :" none vi?ere to be spared, as the Government did not wish to be troubled with prisoners. The last wheel was set in motion by Dun- canson. He was a sullen, brutal monster, and his orders to Campbell of Glenlyon seem to be the pantings of a short-breathed ferocity. The few lines written by this obscure Highland savage, the only evidence that such a person ever existed, are sufficient to confer upon him an immortal memory of shame. Campbell was to fall on the Macdonalds precisely at five o'clock in the morning ; by that time, or shortly after, the major would be there with a stronger party : " If I do not come to you at five, you are not to tarry for me, but to fall on." There was the King's own special hand for cutting off the miscreants root and branch, for the good and safety of the country. He seems to fear that the heart even of a Campbell might fail him before the awful task; he remembers the tie of kindred between the captain and the chief's family. You are, he commands, to put all under seventy to the sword, taking especial care that the old fox and his sons do not escape ; do it without fear or favour, else you may expect to be dealt with as a traitor to your King and country, as a man unfit to carry a commission in the King's service. The soldiers were not made aware of the work cut out for them until the morning, when the order was given them to kill every man and woman they met, and shoot down every one they saw taking to the hills. John, the eldest son of the old chief, was alarmed during the night by the sound of soldiers' voices outside his window, and went up to Inverigan to inquire of Glenlyon what was the meaning of the disturbance. " If ill were intended," said the treacherous Campbell, " would I not have told Sandy and my niece ? '' It was close on five o'clock when Lindsay called at the chiefs house with a party of soldiers ; the old man rose out of bed to receive his early visitors. He did not have time to dress himself before a couple of bul- lets whizzed from behind his back and laid him dead in his wife's arms. It was stated on oath that the brutal soldiers stripped off the whole attire of the chiefs widow and tore the rings from her fingers with their teeth. She expired on the following day. At the different centres further up the glen, where the other parties were stationed, the work of murder went on simultaneously, and with equal fiendishness. At the little village of Auchnaion the laird of Achtreachtan was sitting at his brother's fire Avith eight other men, when a volley of balls was poured into the group by Sergeant Barber and his com- rades. Four fell down dead, and the others threw themselves on the floor. One of them was Achtreachtan's brother, whom Barber, suspecting he was not dead, took hold of and asked if he were alive. The poor Highlander asked the sergeant to grant him the favour of being shot in the open air. " I will do you that favour," said the menial officer, " for the sake of your meat which I have eaten." Tak- ing advantage of the darkness, the powerful mountaineer dashed himself on the soldiers before they had time to take aim, and fling- ing his long tartan plaid in their faces, fled in a moment up the mountain with the swiftness of a deer. During this short interval the other three Macdonalds had risen from the floor and escaped by the back of the building. A child was afterwards missed from this hamlet, and nothing but its hand was ever found. The tragedies enacted at Inverigan under the eyes of Captain Campbell were, if pos- sible, of a more savage character than those which were witnessed at the other hamlets. The men were dragged out of bed and killed one by one ; a lad of twelve was shot dead, although he ran up to Glenlyon declaring with passionate entreaty that he would go anywhere with Glenlyon, would follow him over the world, if only his life were spared ; a woman and a child of the tender age of four or five v/ere also among the victims. One old man of eighty was mur- dered. Inverigan himself, after having been left for dead at his own door, crept into another house. It was only to suffer a worse fate : the building was set on fire by the sol- diers, and the old man perished in the flames. There was one young man of twenty whom 479 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Glenlyon was disposed to spare, but an ofificer named Drummond, who arrived with ad- ditional troops about daybreak, found fault with the leniency of his comrade, and ordered him to be shot by a file of musketeers. Results of the Massacre ; The Fall OF Stair. Some twenty-five persons had been slaugh- tered. Women and children, too, it was believed had perished in the storm and deep snow on the hill sides, and became the prey of the eagles that haunted the lofty spires of Buachal Etive. The plot for the extermina- tion of the whole clan of Maclan of Glencoe had proved a complete failure, and it served no other purpose than to brand with infamy the name of every man who had art or part in the foul thing. The two " cubs," above all, had succeeded in escaping together up the mountains on hearing the iirst shots fired. The severe weather had hindered the march of Hamilton, and it was within an hour of midday when he arrived with his forces upon the scene. It has been remarked with a terrible terseness that nothing was left for the lieutenant-colonel but an old man to kill and houses to burn. All the possessions of the Macdonalds of Glencoe were destroyed or carried off. Tradition and a Jacobite pamphlet which Macaulay has used more freely than he ought perhaps to have done, assert that Glen- lyon and his descendants were haunted by the spectre of Maclan and the blood of Glencoe ; but the fact is that he lived' long afterwards to serve his King and country in Flanders and the Highlands. Within a fortnight it was widely known and talked of in London that the Macdonalds had been murdered in bed after taking the allegiance. But Stair was not ashamed. He even pressed on Hill to continue the work of vengeance : " All I regret is that any of the sept got away ; and there is necessity to prosecute them to the utmost. If they could go out of the country, I wish they were let slip." In May the Council gave permission to the ruined Macdonalds, who had associated themselves with other " loose and broken men " for pursuing the career of freebooters, to return to their native valley under suffi- cient securities for good conduct ; and in the summer of 1695 the Scottish Parliament, under the pressure of the bitter pohtical opponents of Dalrymple, appointed a com- mission of inquiry as to the authors of the dark tragedy. Even Tarbat was frightened, and was eager for a full and formal pardon for himself, covering the whole of his career : he alleged that the high-toned morality was a mere sham, assumed for the ruin of himself and his associates by another political clique that, to use his own words, would put a beast's skin on every one not belonging to their club and set the hounds on him. The King was exonerated by the Parliament ; the Secretary was declared to have gone beyond his instructions ; Livingston and Hill were acquitted of blame ; all the other officers, from Hamilton downwards, ought to be prosecuted if His Majesty thought fit. The matter ended in a mere resolution. It was attended by no disastrous consequence to any of the persons involved in the actual work of blood ; and even the maligned Dal- rymple, on whom his political enemies on the right and left alike aimed at casting the odium of the barbarous massacre, was acquitted by the King of having any participa- tion whatever in the method by which the scheme of extermination was attempted to be carried out. So far his connection with the Glencoe massacre was fatal to his career as a statesman ; he resigned the office of Secretary during the summer in which the Commission instituted its inquiries. Long exiled from the councils of the King and the debates of Parliament, he at last weathered the hatred and the disgrace. His sovereign, remembering the services he had bestowed upon the realm of Scotland, exalted him to the dignity of an earldom, and he died in honourable harness, while fighting with all his wisdom and eloquence for the union of the two kingdoms. As novi homines^ he and his father were detested by the needy and less capable patricians over whose heads he floated into power, as great men always do, in the crisis of his country ; and the screech- ing calumnies of his jealous foes have been too readily accepted as a basis for the eloquent invective of historians. It is no purpose of ours to enter into any tedious discussion as to the real authors of the massacre. We may not approve of the " legal advantage " on which Dalrymple insisted in striking a blow at the bandits of Glencoe ; we confess that he was by no means scrupulous as to the possible method of extermination, and simply put his hands over his eyes while the savage clansmen took their own way of doing his work ; but we beg to protest against the constant insinuation or assertion that he dictated the massacre as it actually occurred. His own letter, written in London on the 30th of January, affords incontrovertible evi- dence that he was utterly ignorant of the project of treacherous assassination under the mask of friendship, and that he was guilty only of advising that the work should be " quietly done," so that the extermination of the thievish clan might be complete. M. M. 480 iHE Attack on the Bastille. THE VENGEANCE OF '89. THE STORY OF THE FALL OF THE BASTILLE. The Mud-Town- The Merovingian Kin?s-The Carlovingians-The Capets-Pans under the Capets-The House of Valois-Troubles in the Jacquerie-Foundation of the Bastille-Growth of the Bastille-lhe Boiirbon Kings— 1 he Bastille and the Absolute Monarchy— A Poet's Indignant Denunciation— An Escape from the Bastille— Ihe Beginning of the Revolution—" To Arms ! "— " To the Bastille "—Taken— The Sequel. TS^ The Mud-Town. AM writing these words on the top of a lofty tower, some one hundred and seventy-five feet high. On one side, the north, I look down upon magnificent streets, the dainty colours of the ever-moving crowd set off by the foliage of -^81 the trees, just now in their spring lovehness In the garden beneath, mothers and nurse- maids in blue garments and white caps tend little children also white-capped ; and all day long— nearly all night long— the roll and roar of carriages goes on without ceasing. I turn to the other side, and there is a river 1 1 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. beneath me, not nearly so wide as the Thames, but spreading out opposite to where I am standing, and enclosing two islands, with more bridges than I am able to count. Beyond the river again the busy streets continue, with many a grand spire and dome rising among them. And all these things together make up the city of Paris, the most beautiful city, probably, in the world. Rome is infinitely greater in historical inter- est, London is vaster, Edinburgh is grander in situation, but in splendour of streets and gaiety of appearance, Paris surpasses them all. One of these islands of which I have spoken is called " the Isle of the City." It contains the cathedral and the Palace of Justice. When Julius Caesar came here 2000 years ago this formed the whole city, and its name then was Lntetia Parisiofum, " Mud-Town of the Borderers."* The " Borderers," who occu- pied the whole district known now as the Isle of France, were at first disposed to be more friendly towards him than their neigh- bours, and he showed his appreciation of this by convoking a general assembly of the Gauls in this island ; but they afterwards turned against his lieutenant, Labienus, and shared the usual fate of being conquered. When the Romans became possessed of all Gaul, Paris for a while disappears out of the history. Yet it throve, chiefly in con- sequence of its river commerce. It gradually extended itself from the islands to the main- land, chiefly on the left bank of the river. The chief temple, that of Jupiter, was on the island, but a great amphitheatre rose up on the left bank, and afterwards a palace of the Emperors, who began, after a while, to make it a favourite residence. When Christianity began to make its rapid strides towards victory over heathenism, St. Denys, or Dionysius, came to Paris with two companion preachers. He and these com- panions were beheaded on a hill, which was consequently called "the Martyr's Hill," — Mons Martyru7n. You will find the spot in the map of Paris, Montmartre. It was Julian " the Apostate " who caused the first great advance of Paris to splendour. He preferred it to every city in his empire, and relics of his baths remain to this day. He died in 364, and his successor also dwelt a good deal in Lutetia, though it never became the official capital of Roman Gaul ; that honour belonged sometimes to Lyons, sometimes to Treves, sometimes to Aries. It was not even the capital of a province ; and this explains why its prelates never took rank as archbishops until the 17th century. * This is Carlyle's interpretation of Parisii, or Barisii. Numerous other interpretations, however, have been given. They were suffragans only of the Bishop of Sens. Early in the 5th century lived St. Marcel, who is said to have " delivered the country from a terrible dragon," which, being inter- preted, probably signifies that he was the means of destroying paganism. In his time the temple of Jupiter gave place to the first Christian cathedral in Paris. It was dedi- cated to St. Stephen. But the chief saint of Paris in early times was St. Genevieve, the details of whose history are given in many frescoes on the walls of the Paris churches. Suffice it to say that she spent her life in works of piety and self-denial ; that when the fierce Attila came into Gaul bringing destruction and death in his train, it was her prayers, according to popular belief, which kept him out of the city ; that when Clovis^ King of the Franks, crossed the Rhine and conquered Gaul, and formed the new Frank monarchy, it was Saint Genevieve who per- suaded the Parisians not to acknowledge him until he should embrace Christianity ; that he was accordingly baptized at Rheim& in 496, and entered Lutetia next year ; that she died in 512, at the age of eighty-nine, and was buried beside him in the Abbey of St. Peter and St. Paul, which had been founded by his wife Clotilde. The church was from that time known as St. Genevieve, though since it was rebuilt in the i8th century it is more commonly called the Pantheon. The National Convention inscribed on it, "To the memory of our great men ; " and here were brought Voltaire, Rousseau, Mirabeau, Marat^ to be buried. Their remains, however, were afterwards removed; those of Marat were thrown into a sewer. The shrine of St. Genevieve is now to be seen in the neigh- bouring church opposite, " St. Stephen on the Hill." The Merovingian Kings. Clovis, which is the Latin form of the Teutonic Chlodwig, the same name which the French softened into Louis, was the founder of what is known as the Merovin- gian dynasty in France. It had been, as we know, a Roman country ; then, as the Roman power dechned, it fell under the Visigoths, whose chief seat of power, how- ever, was in Spain. But the Visigoths were I out of harmony with the Church,— they were Arians, who denied the divinity of Christ, — and therefore, so it is said, the clergy en- couraged King Clovis to come from the Rhine country, and establish himself in GauL He was nothing loth, and, as we have already said, he agreed after a while to be baptized. It was done by St. Remigius, Bishop of Rheims. " Lower thy head with humihty," said the eloquent bishop, " adore what thou hast burned, burn what thou hast adored." 482 THE VENGEANCE OF '89. From the time of Clovis, the city has come to be called Paris. There are many interest- ing relics of the Meroving kings in and about Paris, not only coins and implements of war, but deeds and charters with the kings' signatures. The student of French history will find a collection of woiiderful interest in the Archives Nationales in the Rue Franc Bourgeois, — a collection to which we shall have to refer again. One looks there upon the very documents which passed under the hands of those Meroving kings, who rode in their bullock carts with long hair flowing ; for it was law absolute as that of the Medes and Persians that no king could have a razor come upon his head ; here are their deeds, grants of lands to faithful followers and to churches. In days when all else was moving and in unrest, the Church remained a permanent institution, and all men felt and recognized its power and usefulness. "The Church!" exclaims Carlyle, " what a word was there ; richer than Golconda and the treasures of the world ! In the heart of the remotest moun- tains rises the little kirk ; the dead all slumbering around it, under their white memorial stones, ' in hope of a happy resur- rection.' Dull wert thou, O reader, if never in any hour (say of moaning midnight, when such kirk hung spectral in the sky, and Being was, as it were, swallowed up in darkness), it spoke to thee things unspeakable, that went up into thy soul's soul. Strong was he that had a Church, what we can call a church ; he stood thereby, though in the centre of immensities, in the conflux of eternities, yet manlike towards God and man ; the vague, shoreless universe had become for him a firm city, and dwelling which he knew. Such virtue was in belief; in these words well spoken, / believe. Well might men prize their Credo, and raise -state- liest temples for it, and reverend hierarchies, and give it the tithe of their substance : it was worth living for and dying for." * There are two monuments of Merovingian royalty in the abbey church of St. Denys, — King Dagobert and Queen Frdddgonde. The greater part, however, of this race of kings were buried in the church of " St. Germanus in the Meadows." And now the city began to grow on the north side of the river as well as the south. Two monasteries, St. Martin and St. Lawrence, formed each a nucleus of population, and a hunting-lodge in the midst of a wood was called Lupara, from the number of wolves which infested it. This hunting-lodge was afterwards turned into a castle by King Philip Augustus ; and this again was removed to make room for a * "French Revolution," I., 8. new palace by Francis I., in 1541. This has been altered and enlarged by several monarchs since ; but what an effort of ima- gination is needed to transform the Lupara, or " wolf-haunt," of the 8th century into the Louvre of the present day. The Carlovingians. To the Merovingians succeeded the Carlo- vingians, or, as Mr. E. A. Freeman calls them, the Karlings, the descendants of Charles Martel. The greatest monarch of this line was Charles the Great, commonly known as Charlemagne. This form of his name is unfitting for two reasons. First, he did not speak French but German ; and secondly, he did not live at Paris, or in what is now called French territory. His home, and that of nearly all his race, was on the banks of the Rhine. His capital was Aix-la-Chapelle. The period of the Carloving kings, indeed, was not a prosperous one for Paris ; they treated it as a simple fief, and as far as French territory was concerned, held their court at Laon. When the fierce Northmen came in the 9th century, and sailed up the Seine and the other northern rivers to plunder and too often to kill, the Karlings almost left Paris to their mercy. This was indeed the cause of their downfall in France, and of the final separation of the empire of Charles the Great into the two divisions which we know as France and Germany. The Capets. Whilst the Carlovingian kings were leaving Paris and the Seine country to its fate, a new family was coming into note destined to play a brilliant part in the history of the Frankish nation. In 885, Eudes, or Odo, Count of Paris, aided by the Bishop Gos- selin, briUiantly defended the city against an attack of the Normans. They besieged it for a year in vain ; then the Carloving king, Charles the Fat, came to succour the city with an army. And his succour consisted in offering the Northmen a large amount of gold to go away. Such a method of deliver- ance angered both his German army and his Frankish subjects. The former deposed him, the latter severed the connection with the East Franks, preferring to be ruled by their own leader. So Eudes, Duke of Paris, became King of the Franks. He transmitted this crown to his brother Robert, who was unable to hold it long ; but his grandson, Hugh Capet, was more successful. He was elected king at Senlis, June 30th, 987, and solemnly crowned at Rheims, the ecclesiastical metro- polis of France, on the following day. But let it be remembered that this King of the Franks by no means held undivided do- minion over the whole country which we now call France, or even over the greater part of 483 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. it. If we take Normandy to begin with, we must remember that it was ruled by a Duke of Normandy, whose dominion, so long as he ruled justly, was as much his as that of Paris was under the personal rule of the King. If there were complaints made of his govern- ment, appeal .lay to the King of the Franks. He was " overlord " of the country, and the peers who ruled the provinces were his vas- sals ; they did homage to him on their enter- ing upon their inheritance, but with this provision for their righteous rule, their pos- sessions were like a freehold. There were many times when these great fief-holders were quite as powerful as he who was called king. The first Capets only held as their personal heritage the provinces of the Isle of France, Picardy, the Orleannois. The rest were fiefs which became added one by one to France, as we shall see presently. From Hugh Capet the French crown de- scended directly from father to his eldest son for twelve generations, then the line was broken. King Louis X. left no son. He had a daughter ; but, according to the Salic law which prevailed among the Franks, she could not succeed, so the kingdom passed to the brother of King Louis. He too died without sons, so a third brother came, Charles IV. He was the last male of the line ; so the Crown went to his cousin Philip, son of Charles of Valois, who was a younger brother of King Philip IV. Hence we know the first branch as the House of Capet, the second as that of Valois. But as we see, both alike sprang from Hugh Capet. Paris under the Capets. We have now to review the history of Paris under the Capet kings. The first four of them, Hugh, Robert, Henry I., Phihp I., resided not so much at Paris as at Orleans. Louis VI. and VII. principally dwelt at Paris, but it was the next monarch, Phihp Augus- tus, who did more for it than any of his predecessors. He it was indeed who defi- nitely made it the capital, established the officei'S of government there, and built the "great tower of the Louvre," in which he deposited the State papers and treasures. He also fortified the " faubourgs " which had grown up on both sides of the river, and for the first time made them an integral part of the city. He reigned for forty-three years, during which the city grew so much that it was divided into eight " quarters " instead of four. He also paved the streets, which hitherto had been impassable in rainy weather, built great market-places and seve- ral bridges. But he further vastly increased the importance of Paris by organising and grouping together, under the title of the Uni- versity, the lectures in literature, philosophy, and theology, which were at that time flour- ishing in their strength under the hands of those learned men who have given to these days the name of "Age of the Schoolmen." The University of Paris was founded in 1200, and completely organized by 1215. It was on the left bank of the river, separate from the rest of the city, and called " The Latin Quarter,"- — a name which it retains to this day. The character which it soon acqiu'red for learning, the facilities which it rendered to those who sought its benefits but were too poor to pay for them, gave it a renown surpassing that of any place in Europe. Thus Paris now became the political capital of France and the literary capital of Europe. To have studied at Paris was among the highest honours which a literary man could aspire to. It is remarkable that in the 13th century, which produced the noblest cathe- drals, so many of the architects were from the University of Paris. The further de- velopment of the Sorbonne, named after its founder, Robert Sorbon, belongs to the reign of Louis IX., A.D. 1250. To Philip Augustus also France owed much for uniting the monarchy. The original per- sonal domain of Hugh Capet, as we have seen, included only the Isle of France, Picardy, and Orleannois. Normandy, formed into a state by Rollo, or Rou, whose name survives in its capital, Rouen, where his tomb is still to be seen, passed to the kings of England when a duke of Normandy became the English conqueror. Phihp Augustus wrested it from King John. But by his able centra- lisation of the administration of justice he in- creased his power and influence over the other fiefs. The result of this showed itself in a very marked way under Louis IX., who established a parliament. The Provost of Paris was at the head of the municipal administration. He was a judiciary, always a royal officer. He was a distinct personage from the " Pro- vost of the Merchants," who took charge of all which concerned commerce and provision- ment. He was in reality, though not in title. the mayor of Paris. The first town-hall was on the left bank of the river, not far from St. Genevieve. Louis IX. built a grand palace on the Isle of the City. The present Palace of Justice is built on the site of it, and several portions of the original palace still exist, as the kitchens, the great guard- room, the round towers which face the street, and above all the beautiful Sainte Chapelle, a church of two stories, in the upper of which is an empty shrine, formerly containing the relics which he brought from the East, and which are now in Noij'e Dame. This church is one of the most lovely specimens of Gothic architecture in the world. Of all the French kings, Louis IX. loved justice most. It was a veritable passion with him. Hallam expresses his opinion that his 484 THE VENGEANCE OF '89 is the most beautiful character in history. He would go into the Wood of Vincennes and sit unr'er a tree, that his subjects might have free in tercourse with him and tell their needs. But we must not linger on his life, — it is like going back to the Age of Gold, — but pass on. The House of Valois. To this House belong thirteen kings of France, beginning with Philip VI. in 1328, and ending with Henry III., assassinated in 1589. It is a period full of activity, full of tumult. Two of the kings fell into the hands of an enemy : John, at Poitiers, to Edward the Black Prince ; Francis I., at Pavia, to Charles V. Twice the sceptre was on the very point of slipping from the. King's hand : once into the hand of the EngUsh king, pre- vented by Joan of Arc ; once into that of the Guises, prevented by the League. Three great foreign wars belong to this period : the first with England, begun through the unjust claims of Edward III.,* and con- tinued through the renewal of them by Henry V., in which the kingdom was all but lost, but was recovered, as I have already said, by the Maid of Orleans ; the second with Italy, a source of great evils ; the third with Germany, begun under most unhappy auspices. But further, to the epoch of the House of Valois belong also three of the four civil wars which sadden the annals of France : that of Chajies tJie ^cT(/, under John and Charles V.; that of the Arniagnacs and Bnrgundians, under Charles VI. ; that of the Protestants and the League, under Francis II., Charles IX., and Henry III. The most terrible defeats and the most glorious victories belong to this period; and as if all things concurred to make it famous, this was the age of those remark- able discoveries which were as a new revela- tion to man, — artillery, printing, the compass, America, the way to the Indies. And now, too, began French poetry and drama. But what appears so strange is that not only did the misfortunes of the House of Valois not impede the progress of its power, they even contributed so much to hasten and increase it. Every reverse was followed by a solid success, and every civil trouble by an increase of the royal authority. Philip of Valois, who was utterly routed at Crecy, added Dauphine to his possessions ; and John, the conquered of Poitiers and the Black Prince's captive, added Burgundy ; Charles VII., who on his accession was left * He claimed the French crown on the groiind that his mother was the daughter of PhiUp IV. But even had there been no such thing as the Salic law, his claim would have been bad, because Louis X. had left a daughter who would have come before him. 485 ' seemingly without any resource or hope, had i before his death completed the conquest of I the English provinces in the west. j But what concerns us most, the kings of France, who at the beginning of this dynasty had, as we have already noticed, possessed but a limited authority over a large portion of France, found themselves before its close lords of a united monarchy. The treachery and cruelty of Louis XI. cannot bhnd us to his great ability. He overcame the great vassals who had bidden defiance to liis power, and held themselves almost as independent sovereigns ; and from his time France was, both in word and fact, a monarchy. To this end the fierce civil wars begun by the dukes of Burgundy had so greatly tended. Troubles ; The Jacquerie, When Philip of Valois ascended the throne, he found before him the task ot composing a kingdom half distracted with the bad govern- ment of his predecessors. Philip IV. (the Fair) and his three sons had frightfully mis- managed the finances of the countr}% ta.xes were oppressive, and the frequent alterations in the currency brought trouble and confusion into every transaction. But this heritage of trouble was aggravated by Edward the Third's unrighteous claim, and the war that followed increased public .misery, and consequently public discontent. The fatal battle of Poitiers, in 1356, by leaving King John a prisoner in the hands of the English, caused Charles the Dauphin, afterwards Charles V., to convoke at Paris the States-General, as his father had done twice before. This convocation of the nobles, clergy, and people, only resorted to on e.xtraordmary emergencies, invariably showed itself on the side of popular rights and liberties. On the present occasion the presiding spirit was the Provost of the Mer- chants, Stephen Marcel, a man of political intelligence far in advance of his age, though unscrupulous. Under his guidance, aided by his friend Robert Lecoq, Bishop of Laon, the States-General in 1356 and the two fol- lowing years reformed the administration, insisted on a just apportionment of the taxa- tion, and of a controlling power to be vested in elective assemblies. This was the begin- ning of a constitutional government, imprac- ticable under simple feudalism. The Dauphin promised, even put the new provisions into a sort of charter, though he found means to elude them afterwards. Marcel, foreseeing that he would attempt this, placed the bur- gesses of Paris under arms. At that time was living Charles the Bad, King of Navarre. He was a direct descendant of Hugh Capet, the great-grandson of Philip IV., but as it was through his mother, he was prevented from reigning by the Salic law. He deserved his unpleasant surname, for he had neither EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. faith nor morals, and passed his life in strata- gems and treasons. He came to Paris now, harangued the people, and, in concert with Marcel, excited them against the Dauphin, A body of armed men invaded the Louvre and massacred the principal Counsellors of State before the Dauphin's eyes, whereupon he escaped from the capital, and retired to Compi^gne, where he called together fresh representatives of the nation, who, jealous of the overpowering influence of Paris, showed themselves more favourable to Charles, while they still insisted on reform of government. Marcel, now in open revolt, dreading the return of the Dauphin, excited, or at least encouraged, the terrible insurrection called ihe Jacquerie. It was crushed ; then Marcel, in despair, endeavoured to introduce the King of Navarre and the English into Paris. But this was further than the people of Paris were prepared to go ; the plot was discovered, and Marcel was slain as, with the keys in his hand, he was approaching the St. Denis gate to let the King of Navarre in. The Dauphin immediately afterwards entered Paris as a conqueror. When he became king, Charles V. pro- fited by the severe lesson which he had received in his youth, and though he did not see fit to carry out the reforms which the excesses of Marcel had now rendered less popular, he yet used his absolute authority well and beneficently. His administration was hailed by the people as the return of the happy days of St. Louis. By the help of the illustrious Bertrand Duguesclin, — a simple Breton gentleman possessed of so few advan- tages that he could not even read, but bold as a lion and as honourable as bold, — he reversed the Black Prince's successes, and added the provinces north of the Loire to his own dominions. Foundation of the Bastille. And now we come to the work of the reign of Charles V. which more especially concerns this paper. The building of the Bastille, so far from being a blot on his memory, was intended not for a prison, but to provide for the defence of Paris. It was one of several works of the same character. * The first stone of the Bastille was laid by Hugh d'Aubriot, Mayor of Paris, April 22nd, 1370. He was a native of Dijon, who had come very poor to Paris, but had prospered there, come under the King's notice, and attracted his confidence. He built the Pofif au Change, then called " the Great Bridge," * The name Bastile, or Bastel, was given to any erection intended to withstand a military force. There were, therefore, many in France, but this retained the name longest. provided sanitary improvements, and planned the Bastille. That is, he built two strong towers facing the Street St. Anthony, joined them with a strong wall, in the centre of which was the gate of the town. But Aubriot fell into trouble. After the death of Charles v., whether rightly or wrongly we have no means of knowing, he was accused of irre- ligion both in profession and practice, and was condemned to be shut up in one of the towers of his own Bastille. He was after- wards removed from thence to the Chatelet. Fresh riots presently rose, in consequence of the taxation caused by the war with England. The insurgents went about with clubs {jnail- lots) loaded with lead, and therefore were called Maillotins. The name of Aubriot happening to be mentioned, was caught up with acclamation, his prison was forced, and he was carried out in triumph, elevated on men's shoulders, and even saluted as king. But he was too wise to commit himself by acceptance of this dangerous title. He with- drew privately on the first night of his libera- tion, made his way back to his native Dijon, and ended his days in peace at an advanced age. Growth of the Bastille. In the next reign two more towers were added opposite the first. Then came four others, with connecting walls, until the whole presented a quadrangular form, somewhat bulging out, however, on the east side, the long side of the quadrangle being in face of the Rue St. Antoine, and the entrance was in the narrow end of the quadrangle on the south, between the two towers. A broad ditch, thirty-six feet deep, was dug round the whole, lined with masonry. It was, how- ever, dry, except when the Seine was flooded, and was used as a garden. The visitor who wished to enter the fortress passed through a gateway on the right side of the Rue St. Antoine, crossed a drawbridge, passed be- tween walls within which were offices and sutler's shops, and so passed round to the southern side of the fortress till he stood opposite the gateway. Here, over the fosse, was another drawbridge. This being crossed, he found himself within the walls. The walls were of enormous thickness, and nearly a hundred feet in height. As we have already said, the ground-plan was quad- rangular, the interior was divided into two courts, the first 102 feet long, the second 42, the width of them was 72 feet. In the first court was the great clock, the only sound, says one of the prisoners in his Reminiscences, that broke the stillness for many an hour together. It was a cruel idea to ornament the dial with sculptures of a man and woman chained hand and foot. The tops of _ the towers and of the curtain walls that joined 486 THE VENGEANCE OF '89. them were flat, with a parapet wall, and on the towers were a few pieces of cannon. The rooms which were used as prisons are de- scribed by some of the prisoners as not uncomfortable as prisons go, that is, they are said to have been neither damp, nor cold, nor ill-ventilated, and the furniture was sufficient. It must, however, be said that there is discrepancy of testimony on this point. Probably treatment varied at diffe- rent epochs and under different governments. The statement that on the demolition rooms for torturing prisoners were discovered is entirely a myth, neither places nor instru- ments of torture were found. The Bourbon Kings. The last monarchs of the House of Valois were as much under clouds as those of the preceding line. The troubles now arose out of the Reformation struggles. The last king of the Valois line, Henry HI., was assas- sinated at St. Cloud by a fanatic monk, July 31st, 1589, and the crown then devolved on Henry, King of Navarre, whose descent was from Hugh Capet, like the rest of the kings. He was a ninth descendant of Louis IX. The House of Bourbon produced some of the greatest kings of France, and under this dynasty were produced its most famous captains. Henry IV. was a man whose memory was always deeply cherished. Louis XIV. seemed to have arrived at the perfec- tion of earthly greatness, yet in his reign were gathered together the elements of the terrible revolution which swept his House away. The slightest sketch of their history is all that we can offer. Henry IV., though stained with some personal vices, was a brilliant hero, and a king who strove for the good of the nation, and governed it in the spirit of a father. Finding that the Reformed faith was at the lowest ebb in France, — for, indeed, the St. Bartholomew massacre in 1572 had almost extinguished Protestantism, — he committed the grievous error of abjuring it, though he loved it, and of declaring himself a Roman Cathohc. He believed that by so doing he should best promote peace, and be enabled to secure liberty of conscience. The Edict of Nantes was the outcome of this policy, which provided for equality as to religious profession, and admission on equal terms to public employments. This was in 1599. The original document is in \h.Q Archives Na- tionales. So also is the revocation of it by Louis XIV., a deed full of evil consequences. Henry was able now to devote himself to the state of the finances, for France had ap- proached nearly to bankruptcy ; he introduced order, economy, and good government every- where, being much assisted by his wise minister, Sully. France had begun to re- cover after a long period of misery, when Henry Avas stabbed by an assassin in the street. May 14th, 1610, and the country was again thrown into confusion. His son, Louis XIII. , was only nine years of age. He was not a great man, but he allowed a great man to govern, though he disliked him, being honestly desirous for the advancement of France. This great man was Cardinal Richelieu, and the policy with which he is most identified is his determined endeavour to humble the House of Austria. What is known as the Thirty Years' War (16 18- 1648) was a bitter contest between Romanism and Protestantism in Germany. Richelieu took the Protestants' side in pursuance of his set policy. He died six months before the King, whose death took place on the thirty-third anniversary of his accession, May 14th, 1643. The reign of Louis XIV., beginning in his fifth year, lasted for seventy-two years. As his father's reign was controlled by Richelieu so the early part of that of Louis XIV. was under Cardinal Mazarin. The long reign has three distinct divisions. The beginning was troubled with the miserable civil war of the Fronde. The middle was full of glory ; the King was successful in war, adding largely to .his territory on the last at the expense of Germany ; he surrounded himself with illustrious men, and covered France with handsome buildings. The end was darkened with troubles. The victories of the Duke of Marlborough did much to crumble to pieces the power and prestige which Louis had gained by his previous successes. It was a time when absolutism carried all before it ; but a heritage of evil was being stored up for those who came after. Louis XV., great-grandson of his prede- cessor, was but six years old at his succession. The Regent Orleans, so long as he lived, ruled him wisely, but died in 1723. For a while Louis was greatly loved by his people ; but his life became scandalously corrupt and self-indulgent, the nation was ill-governed and oppressed, the finances again became embarrassed. He died in 1774, and was succeeded by his grandson, Louis XVI., the best-intentioned of men, the most unfortunate of kings. He was not yet twenty years old; his beautiful wife, Marie Antoinette, was in her nineteenth year. She had been married before she was fifteen. The Bastille and the Absolute Monarchy. We have given the above sketch, because the attack on the Bastille, which we have to relate, was really an attack on the principles of absolutism, of which the Bastille was held to be a standing symbol. We have seen how 487 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. it was turned into a prison in its early days, though not intended for that purpose. To this purpose, however, it was now constantly put. Several victims of Louis XL were thrown into it: the Bishop of Verdun and Duke of Alencon died there; the Count of St. Paul, and Jacques d'Armagnac, Duke of Nemours, were shut ud until they were taken out to the Place de Greve to execution. In succeed- ing reigns many illus- trious pri- soners were shut up within the fortress; the Dau phin, who after- wards be- came Louis XIL, and the great C o n d e am o n g them. It was the cruel and crafty Louis Xl.who first made it serve exclu- sively as a State pri- son. It is not, how ever, until 1663 that we have any comple t e and regular register ot' the prison- ers in the Bastille Fifty-foui persons were con- fined there that year, mostly for writing against the Government. In 1664, there were thirteen, mostly confined for Jansenism. But let us set down some of the charges from the list as it lies before us: — "For writing a work, 'Une Histoire Amoureuse' ;" "for poisoning;" "for selling poisons;" "for sacrilege;" " for pretending to foretell events ;" " for having assisted persons to go clandestinely to America;" To THE Bastille " for intriguing with the Spanish ambas- sador;" "for intrigues with the Prince of Orange;" "for matters touching religion" (many) ; (a priest) "for marrying Protestants;" "for pretending to make love potions;" "for saying that the King (Louis XI Y.) oppressed his subjects and only thought of amusing himself with his old woman ( Madame de Main- tenon), that he would soon be a kmg of beg- gars, that ins officers ^^ ere star- vmg, and that he had lumed the kmgdom by driving away the H u g u e - nots;""for disrespect to King George in not m e n- tioning him m his Al- manack as King of Great Bri- tain;" (Vol- taire) " for writing against the Reg ent ; " * " for selling a print re- pie sen ting the roast- 1 n g of a pope larded with Jes- uits;" "for selling drugs, pre- tending they would produce the appearance of youth ; " " for teach- convulsions." ing persons to counterfeit * He was confined here for a year, and composed most of his Hcnriade duruig the time. On being hberated he was presented to the Regent, who asked him if he had any request to make. " Monseigneur, " was the reply, " I shall take it very kind if His. Majesty will charge himself with feeding me. But I earnestly trust he will not again do so with lodging me." THE VENGEANCE OF '89. These are but specimens ; they indicate pro- bably that some deserved imprisonment, and others not, which is really all that one can say 'rom the items themselves. The plan of imprisoning in the Bastille usually was to issue a warrant called letlre de cachet, i.e. sealed letter, which empowered police officers to seize a man wheiever they found hini, and at one _ carry hn 1 off to the prison. Many who had been prisoners m the Bastille wrote their exp eriences of it; but the writei whose work contributed most of all to its de- structi on was Simon L i ngue t, con cernm j whose hib- tory a fev/ words are needed. He was b 1 n at Rhemia July 14th (the date 13 remar kabl e when con- nected with the event which he contrib uted so much to bring about that d a v fifty-three yearsXi/s"^ His father was a pio- fessor in a college, wl was druen into exile At the Door ! and poverty for his Jansenist opinions. The youth, having found opportunity of studying in Paris, led a somewhat roving and unsettled life, travelling through many countries and making good use of his eyes, and finally settled down to litera- ture as a profession. The catalogue of his works fills many pages, but the chief of them, "Politi- cal,Civil,and LiteraryAnnals of the Eighteenth Century," formed by far the most important. They were begun in 1777, and fill nineteen volumes, and were written from a point of view altogether hostile to the French form of government, very energetic and powerful in style, bitter, trenchant, and not unfrequently spiteful. " He burns, but he throws light," said Voltaire tersely, after reading one of his volunies The volumes \\eie written some in Engl an d, some m S w i t z e r- land, some In Brussels. According to his own account he desired to come to Paris while the publica- t i o n was going on, and wrote to the mini- sterVergen- nes, asking for a safe- conduct. The Min- is t e r p ro- niised that he should not be mo- lested ; he came, and was arret- ed in the street and thrown into the Bastille, Sept. 27th. 1780. There he remain - c d until I\ray 19th, i 1782, when, having first been com- pelled to 3wear that h e w o u 1 d " never re- veal, either directly or indirectly what he had seen or what he had suf- fered," he was allowed to go into exile to Rethel. Thence he escaped to London, where he wrote his "Memoirs of the Bastille," declaring that he did not consider an enforced oath binding. From this time he continued to write, pamphlets and historical essays chiefly. He had, however, fallen into neglect until the break-out of the Revolution and the 489 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. destruction of the Bastille, — as we have said, in consequence to a great degree of his revelations. Then he went to France again, and betook himself to agriculture. But his sour and suspicious characteristics seemed to have grown with his years, as every page of his latter life indicates. In the Reign of Terror he was seized and guillotined, June 27th, 1794. In these Memoirs he declares that pre- vious inmates have given such rose-coloured descriptions of their treatment that ." one would think that Tartarus after all was a sort of Champs Elysees." And he goes on to draw a terrible picture of the misery which he underwent himself, — for twelve months knowing absolutely nothing of what' was going on outside, subjected to cold and pri- vation, above all to solitude and silence, and he ends his work by a passionate appeal to Louis XVI. Recounting what that king has done to ameliorate the condition of pri- soners and of the poor generally, he exclaims, " In God's name give to all Europe the spectacle of a miracle which you are able to work. Speak! At your voice the walls of this modern Jericho will be seen to crumble, a thousand times more deserving than the ancient Jericho of the lightning of heaven and the anathemas of men. The reward of this noble work will be the glory of your reign, a redoubling of the love of the people for your person and your house, the blessing of the age which is now, and of all ages to come." An Escape from the Bastille. _ Many are the tq.les of misery and some- times of romance which are connected with this gloomy prison. Out of them all we select the story of Henry Masere de la Tude. He was born in 1725, the son of a French marquis, and on arriving at manhood entered the army. It happened however to be a time of peace, he had no occupation, and in an evil hour for himself he came to Paris. In 1749, hearing on all sides the hatred with which Madame de Pompadour, the mistress of the dissolute Louis XV., was regarded, the shameful project occurred to him of gaining her favour by pretending to discover a plot against her life. The scheme was so shallow as to be at once detected, and the schemer was sent to the Bastille. He was treated kindly, however, by the lieutenant of police, M. Berryer, but after-a while was transferred to the prison of Vincennes. Here he was very miserable for a while, but by wonderful assurance and coolness he managed to escape, after nine months detention. One hardly knows whether to call his next act chivalry or folly. From his hiding-place in Paris he addressed a letter to the courtesan, " I judged," he says, " of Madame de Pompa- dour by myself, and idly fancied I might pique her into generosity by avowing the place of my retreat, and throwing myself on her clemency for pardon of the past." But she was as revengeful as she was dissolute. He was seized, and (so he says) was promised mercy if he would explain how he contrived to escape from Vincennes. He told, and was immediately sent back to the Bastille, and no longer allowed any of the mitigations he had received before. After six months of this, half-maddened by the incarceration which was made infinitely worse by "his fiery and restless temperament, he revenged him- self by writing a satire on Pompadour. It was conveyed to her, and her rage was almost maniacal. She swore that nothing should ever induce her to relent towards him. Berryer, however, who evidently felt a great interest and pity for him, allowed him to have a companion, one AMgre, who had also incurred Pompadour's wrath, though in a nobler manner, for he had written her a letter of remonstrance. To this young man La Tude imparted a scheme of escape ! They would climb their chimney, descend from the top into the fosse, and climb the wall on the other side. But what a scheme ! The chimney, full all the way up of bars and gratings, rose to the height of the topmost tower, whence the descent into the fosse was a sheer two hundred feet. Where was the material to be found for the rope ladder for such a descent, or for the wood for the ascent from the ditch? And how conceal their preparations, watched every hour of the day and night? No wonder that to Alegre the whole idea seemed madness. "As for ropes," said La Tude one day when his companion had expressed his sense of the impossibility of escape, "my trunk contains a thousand feet at least. Don't you know that it is stuffed full of linen, — shirts, towels, stockings, night-caps, and I don't know what besides?" His companion was so far moved by such enthusiasm that he began actually to have hopes. The first object was to find a hiding-place for their tools, if they could contrive to get any. La Tude knew that there must be a prisoner in the cell beneath him, though he I could not hear him move. He guessed there- fore that there must be some interval between the two rooms. To ascertain this he bade Alegre, whilst going to chapel, to draw out some trifle from his pocketalongwithhis hand- kerchief and let it roll down the stairs. Whilst he should send the turnkey to recover it, La Tude was to take a hasty glance into the lower room. The plan succeeded ; the glance was taken. La Tude saw by the height within, compared with the number of steps outside, that there must be a vacant space of some five feet. They set to work 490 THE VENGEANCE OF 'I then ; sharpened the iron clamps of their table on the stones of the hearth, wrenched up a square of the tiled floor, and formed a hollow of four feet between the two stories. Here was their secret cupboard then. There they ripped up shirts, unravelling them thread by thread. Thus slowly they began their lad- der. Then it cost them six months hard labour to remove the bars of the chimney. These bars were fixed in cement so hard that there was no way of softening it but by squirting ivater from their mouths into holes previously bored. " We never left off a single night but with bloody hands," he says. Then further, when a bar was wrenched out, it had to be replaced in its socket for the time, lest it should be detected. For the wooden ladder they sawed the wood delivered to them for firing, which was in billets of from eighteen to twenty inches. But there were parts of this work for which a can was indispensable. They made one out of an old candlestick with the help of the steel of the tinder-box. They made a single rail, boring holes through it, into which the steps were to be mortised, each part to be tied in its place. Of course it was necessary to hide this, and therefore as fast as one part was completed, it was numbered and stowed away. They knew that they could put it all together in a night when they needed it. So passed eighteen months ; weary work enough, but sustained and cheered by inex- tinguishable hope. On the 2Sth of February, 1756, the attempt was begun. With terrible anxiety and cat-like stillness La Tude as- cended the chimney with such labour that both arms and legs ran down with blood. As soon as he reached the top he let down a ball of twine, to which Al^gre tied the portmanteau containing their effects, and it was drawn up, Al^gre following it. They stood at length on the top of the tower; so far, so good. Then the rope was tied securely to a cannon, and La Tude began his perilous descent, swaying and fluttering in the air at every movement that he made, and knowing that there was but this thin rope between him and death. He descended in safety, then held the rope steady for his companion. Another danger passed ! Crossing the ditch in the fosse they sud- denly heard the sentry pass. Nothing was possible but to hold their heads under water until he was gone by. The pavement outside was swarming with sentries . There was no possibility of evading these ; nothing re- mained but to dig through the wall between the two fosses. It took them nine hours, standing in water above their waists. And this on a winter's night ! At length it was done. As the clock struck five they were in the Street St. Atoine, and both alike knelt down in the street and thanked God. He reached Amsterdam, was there recog- nized, and, to the disgrace of the Dutch government, was handed over to Pompadour's insatiable vengeance, and once more lodged in his gloomy prison. His enemy died, and after thirty-five years' confinement he re- gained his freedom. His words of con- clusion are most touching from their very simplicity. " We arrived at home. I saw a neat though plain apartment, where every- thing told that I had been long expected. I looked round on all with the interest, almost with the curiosity of childhood ; the most trifling object gave me enjoyment : all was food for happiness. I was restored to free intercourse with my fellow-creatures." He was present atthe capture ofthe Bastille, and saw on that eventful day the implements of his wonderful escape, which had been pre- served as curiosities in the fortress. He lived on till 1 804. A Poet's Indignant Denunciation. The effect of the work of Linguet was almost as powerful for the ultimate destruc- tion of the Bastille as " Uncle Tom's Cabin " was for the abolition of slavery. Cowper had evidently read it when he wrote these lines, — "Ye horrid towers, the abode of broken hearts, Ye dungeons and ye cages of despair. There's not an Enghsh heart that would not leap To hear that ye were fallen, :fc :^ :^ :{: $ic :J: ^ Here dwell the most forlorn of human kind, Immured, though unaccused, condemned untried Cruelly spared, and hopeless of escape. Here, like the visionary emblem seen By him of Babylon, life stands a stump And, filleted about with hoops of brass, Still lives, though all its pleasant boughs are lone To count the hour-bell and expect no change, And ever as the sullen sound is heard, Still to reflect that though a joyless note To him whose movements all have one dull pace, Ten thousand rovers in the world at large Account it music, — that it summons some To theatre or jocund feast or ball ; The wearied hireling finds it a release From labour ; and the lover, who has chid Its long delay, feels every welcome stroke Upon his heart-strings, trembling with delight. To fly for refuge from distracting thought To such amusements as ingenious woe Contrives, hard shifting and without her tools — To read engraven on the moulden walls, In staggering types, his predecessor's tale, A sad memorial, and subjoin his own ; To tiirn purveyor to an overgorged And bloated spider, till the pampered pest Is made familiar, watches his approach. Comes at his call, and serves him for a friend ; To wear out time in numbering to and fro The studs that thick emboss his iron door, Then downward and then upward, then aslant, And then alternate, with a sickly hope By dint of change to give his tasteless task Some relish, till the sum exactly found 491 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. In all directions, he begins again; Oh comfortless existence ! hemmed around With woes, which who that suffers would not kneel And beg for exile, or the pangs of death ? That man should thus encroach on fellow-man, Abridge him of his just and native rights, Eradicate him, tear him from his hold Upon the endearments of domestic life And social, nip his fruitfulness and use. And doom him for perhaps a heedless word To barrenness, and solitude and tears, Moves indignation, makes the name of king (Of king whom such prerogative can please) As dreadful as the Manichean God, Adored through fear, strong only to destroy. * The Beginning of the Revolution. We have now to trace out, as succinctly as we can, the causes which brought on the tremendous revolution, the effects of which remain to this day, — a revolution, indeed, which affected the political condition of every country in Europe, and of which almost the first result in France was the destruction of the Bastille. The causes may be classed under three heads : — 1. The circumstances of the monarchy. 2. The ideas which had taken possession of the popular mind. 3. The character of the monarch. We have already seen how France had emerged out of barbarism and become the most poHshed nation in the world, and the oldest monarchy in Europe. The monarch was held to be subject to law, as Bossuet declared when preaching before Louis XIV. The nobility was a hereditary class devoted to the service of the State. The clergy had become rich through the bequests of the pious, and its ranks were open to all classes. The commons, or " Third Estate," who made up the body of the nation, comprised bur- gesses, artizans, peasants. Many of them had become proprietors, and were very jealous of their privileges, electing their ' municipal officers, and controlling the affairs of their parishes. In all this there were the elements of govern- ment altogether admirable, but abuses had come in which needed reform. Thus the clergy, though in theory equal, had come to be divided into classes, — members of the nobility and men born of the commonalty, and the rich prizes of the Church too much fell to the former. The nobility were many of them given to dwelling in Paris, instead of on their estates, leading a frivolous life in- stead of fulfilling the theory of the constitu- tion, that they should be as fathers of their neighbours. Much indeed which is brought against the " old regime " is merely imaginary. Thus men talk of serfage, whereas it had ceased pver since the 12th century. The right of pr'mogeniture was a custom confined to the nobility ; it was abolished at the Revolution^ not for love of natural right, but as a politic measure. There are stories about the peasantry having to pass the night in beating the ponds to prevent the frogs from croaking and disturbing the landlord's sleep. It is a fiction out of some romance depicting a wretched hypochondriac, like Fairlie in the " Woman in White." The more any reader chooses to examine into the facts of society in France before the Revolution, the more he will be convinced that there was need for reform, and that there was also every reason to deprecate the destruction of a system of which the fundamental principles were sound, — principles which had through the progress of centuries combined to place France among the first of the nations. For administrative purposes France was divided into thirty-eight Provinces, some ad- ministered by officers of state in the name of the central power, others governed by local parliaments of the three Estates freely elected in the Province. The former of these two classes had been greatly injured by the sel- fishness of the stewards,who had sought to ex- tend their own authority at the expense of the local liberties. This led to serious mischiefs. But — and here we touch the real causes of the evil days which came — the i8th century was an epoch of moral evil. The nobility who, as we have said, had done much to for- feit their legitimate influence by living away from their country seats, had become liber- tine and free-thinking. The infidel writings of Voltaire and Rousseau had been received with the welcome accorded by men whose careless living incited them to hope that a godless creed was true ; the clergy had gone with the multitude into a life of careless ease and sloth ; legions of pamphlets embodying the ideas of the infidel encyclopjedists fami- liarized the people with the idea that all that was old was false, and ready to be swept away. The character and work of Christ, the Sacraments and the Scriptures, Avere treated as if they were on the same footing with the myths and corruptions of the Middle Ages. The catastrophe which ended the reign of Louis XVI. almost blinds us to the first fifteen years of his reign. They formed an epoch of great national prosperity ; agricul- ture had been blessed with ten uninterrupted years of good harvests, industry had been developed, and commerce was extending itself abroad. Military glory, too, had not been wanting, though for this the King had no taste. It must be confessed that the war which the French people undertook against England in this reign was an unrighteous war, and brought a heavy penalty. When the American colonies revolted from England, the French nation took part with them, partly out of spite and a desire of revenge for past 492 THE VENGEANCE OF '89. wounds, partly with the behef that prestige might be won by taking part with the win- ning side. But its effect was disastrous to the monarchy, both because the expense tjxv- barrased the national finances, and also because the French soldiery returned home enamoured of the spirit of democracy and kindled with enthusiasm for successful re- bellion. Thus the finances fell into confusion ; and this was aggravated by the incapacity of several ministers, chiefly Calonne, a showy, reckless man, who dazzled everybody's eyes with his dexterity, but who went on the sys- tem of ruinous loans ; " trying to put fire out by throwing oil upon it," says Carlyle. The King was economical in disposition, and took pleasure in personal sacrifices and reforms in his household. Not only he, but the wisest and truest men in France, believed that after the reforms which seemed feasible, — the read- justment of taxation, the abolition of certain privileges, and a better discipline among the clergy, — a happy time would be seen, and the nation would continue in the traditions of nobleness which it could boast of for ages past. The summons of the States-General, therefore, filled all hearts with hope. Few were able to see that the new system of things would be not one oi principles, hut oi ideas. And these ideas would have met with the usual fate of unpractical dreams but for the character of the King. Louis XVI., king at the age of twenty, was a prince of irreproachable morals, with a deep sense of duty, loving peace and always anxious for the good of his people, well in- structed, economical and yet generous, and of a good-heartedness which too often became weakness. So distrustful of himself was he as to shrink from his own good resolutions. Unprincipled men, bent on forcing on an upset of government, took advantage of his fatal weakness, and so he whom they nick- named " Tyrant " lacked courage to be king. Long before the troubles began he had shown all the world this infirmity of purpose, starting one project after another only to abandon and reverse them. And by such a course he encouraged his enemies and shocked his friends until, when his monarchy at length had fallen, he was sent a prisoner to the Temple. Then his nobler character exhibited itself. He set himself steadfastly to face the dread realities of the future and to die as be- came a Christian. His wife, Marie Antoinette of Austria, had a firmer character, which excited enmity against her at Court. She had made no secret of her disgust at the roiie's and courte- sans of the Court of Louis XV., and they hated her with a hatred that pursued her to death. Her mother, Maria Theresa, had held firmly the power which was hers by birth, and asserted her sovereignty at home. Marie Antoinette perhaps believed it her duty to follow her example, forgetting that in France she was a foreigner, from the very nature of the case regarded by suspicious eyes as not loving the honour of France. This hapless woman, destined to drink to the very dregs the cup of bitterness and agony, to pass from the condition of the most flattered of queens to the most wretched of Vvives and mothers, was far from being the strong woman which she has sometimes been represented. She was truly believed to have great influence with the King ; but she knew how to win by her grace and loveli- ness. Beautiful, flattered gueen of eighteen, loving amusement and hating formality, endowed with a sensitive and tender spirit, she sought outlets of affection, and suffered herself to be too readily betrayed into confi- dences which compromised hei", and were turned against her. Devoted to her friends, she let no obstacle stand in the way of serv- ing them, and knew not the dangers which lie at the door of royalty, worse than any others because they are the most exclusive. Counselled by unwise friends, who under- stood neither men nor the course of events, she gave herself up, when the Revolution began, to regrets for the overthrow of her husband's power, and for the loss of the friends who were now removed from her. Like her husband, she became the prey of cruel uncertainties, but they took a different line from his. For whereas he could not make up his mind whether he ought to be a constitutional king or not, she did know that she did not wish him to be. .She hesi- tated as to the means to be used, but never as to her intentions : she had no system of action arranged, and was only firm in her repugnances and dislikes. She could not tolerate those nobles who embraced the popular side, and therefore, in her eyes, had destroyed their caste. This explains mucli of her action in sometimes throwing herself during the Revolution on the side of violent leaders rather than making terms with mode- rate men. At the last moment she refused an offer which might have saved her, of a hiding-place at Rouen, because it was made by a noble who had joined the Commons against the Court. Her personal character stands unassailable, though the freedom and vivacity natural at her age exposed her to shameful calumnies ; the cruel slanderers who called her husband tyrant called her harlot. Of the sixty-two Ministers two require special mention, Turgot and Necker. The former was a clever financier who had dimi- nished the National Debt by 112,000,000 fr. (^4,480,000). Necker had created provincial assemblies for the redistribution of taxes. 493 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Both unhappily craved after popularity ; they enfeebled the royal authority, and disturbed men's spirits. " A king less good, ministers more efficient, and there would have been no revolution," said the celebrated Mayor of Paris, Bailly. The Court was greatly divided : the King's eldest brother, the Count of Provence (after- wards Louis XVII I.), was somewhat in favour of the new ideas ; the younger. Count of Artois (Charles X.), was opposed to them. The Duke of Orleans, a cousin of the King, three or four times removed, for he was de- scended from a brother of Louis XIV., made himself a patron of the most advanced revo- lutionists. He hated the Oueen for despising his evil life. The financial embarrassments of the country still increasing in spite of the reforms of Turgot and Necker, and all endeavours to redistribute taxation by other means having failed, the King was persuaded into convok- ing the States- General, after an interval of one hundred and seventy-five years. On previous occasions it had been the custom for each order, Nobihty, Clergy, Third Estate, to send three hundred members each. This custom was now departed from, and the Third Estate was called upon to send up six hundred representatives, — a number, there- fore, equal to both the others together. This was not done without angry protests against such an innovation. But another question had been mooted. Were they all to meet in OJie room or in separate rooms ; to vote par tete or par ordre, as the phrase was? The question was shelved for a while ; " it would be time to settle that when they met." This proved a fatal omission. As the day drew on, all license was allowed to the Press. Writers were even invited to throw any light on the subject by free dis- cussion. At the same time were opened the first Cltibs, an English importation, destined to play a fatal part in the Revolution. In the last three months of 1788, two thousand five hundred pamphlets were issued. '' The most celebrated was that of the Abbd Sieyes, "What is the Third Estate? — Everything. What has it been hitherto ? — Nothing. What does it wish to be ? — Something." The day of opening arrived at length. The visitor to Versailles who arrives from Paris by the " Left Branch " railway will alight near the Church of St. Louis. This was the first rendezvous on the morning of May 4th, 1 789. They walked thence in proces- sion along what is now the Rue Satory, across the Place d'Armes to the Church of Notre Dame, where there was high mass, and the Bishop of Orleans preached a sermon. It is said that whenever he mentioned the word "liberty" the members cheered loudly. Readers of Carlyle's History will not forget his marvellous description of that great scene, destined to change the whole history of Europe. He imagines himself looking out of an upper window upon the procession as. it goes by, noticing "that large ugly man with thick matted black locks," Mirabeau ; that insignificant looking man with sea-green complexion and spectacles on, tossing his nose in the air, " Robespierre, a poor lawyer of Arras ; " " an ugly, muddy-faced, dirty horseleech, not a member but a spectator,, sprawling up ungainly to look over the people's heads," Marat, Everything seemed to go wrong from the first. The King was cheered as he passed along in the procession ; the Queen was re- ceived with disdainful silence, if not with muttered words of hatred towards "the Austrianess." And she showed by her sad,, proud looks how deeply she felt it, and how she struggled to return contempt for con- tempt. After the service at Notre Dame the first meeting was held in the Salle de Menus- Plaisirs in the Palace of Versailles, the King making a loving and wise speech. But immediately afterwards the great struggle began. The nobility and many of the clergy were bent on the meeting in separate chambers. The Third Estate was equally determined the other way. After an interval of passive resistance on both sides,. the Third Estate suddenly declared themselves the National Assembly ; and in a tennis-court hard by, they met on the 20th of June, under the presidency of Mayor Bailly, and took a solemn oath that they would never separate till they had made a new constitution for France. I have just returned from the room as I write. On the spot where Bailly stood is an empty pedestal. It is about to receive a statue of him. An inscription on the wall has the words of the oath. This is the famoua Tennis-Coiirt Oath. The original document is in the Archives Nationales, with all the signatures. Robespierre's struck me as the prettiest and gentlest hand there. The King and his friends struggled for a short time to resist the carrying out of this oath, but in vain. When he showed himself inclined to yield, his ministers told him it would be fatal to the monarchy, and exhorted him to use force to compel them to constitu- tional obedience. He refused. He " would have no fighting." It was his misfortune always to fight, and to refrain, at the wTong times. He sent his orders to the nobles tc join the National Assembly, One noble broke his sword over his knee : " Since the King does not wish to be a king, he needs no sword to defend him," he said. This was the first move towards revolution. To Arms ! Meanwhile the excitement in Paris was in- 494 THE VENGEANCE OF 'i tense. Multitudes crowded the streets day by day to hear what was passing at Versailles, and to read the placards which succeeded one another without ceasing on the walls. But on the 12th of July a climax was reached in consequence of its becoming known, first that an army of forty thousand men were being concentrated in Paris under Marshal Broglie, and secondly that Necker,the Prime Minister, who was believed to be on the side of re- form, had been dismissed by the King and ordered to leave France. His busts were bought from the shops, enveloped in crape, and carried in procession through the streets. The Palais-Royal, the residence of the King's bitter enemy, the Duke of Orleans, was at this time the rendezvous of agitators and political disputants. On the evening of Sun- day, July 1 2th, while an excited crowd was gathered in the gardens, a young man named Camille Desmoulins, afterwards to become one of the leaders of the Revolution, suddenly sprang upon a table, his hair flying in the wind, and cried : " My friends, our lives are not safe, they are sending armies to murder us, if we do not defend ourselves. To arms !" The cry was taken up in wild excitement, and the night that followed was such as Paris had never known before. The mutitudes rushed to the Hotel de Ville demanding arms, and a charge made upon them by a German regiment, under the Prince of Lam- besc, inflamed their indignation into madness. An assembly was established at the Hotel de Ville to direct the movements of the insurgents; a "National Guard" was en- rolled. Camille, in calling them to arms, plucked a bunch of leaves from a tree which he bade them wear as a cockade ; where- upon there was such a rush for leaves that whole trees were stripped bare. But in a few hours there was an outcry that green was the colour of the Count of Artois, the King's unpopular brother ; whereupon it was agreed to take the old Paris colours of red and blue, and to base these on a ground of constitutional white. This was the famous tricolor, which remains the republican badge to this day. All Monday men were hard at work hammering pikes, and women making tricolor cockades ; all shops, except food and wine shops, were close shut, while the tocsin rang out fiercely from all steeples, and everywhere the cry went forth for fire- arms. Three hundred and sixty firelocks, the equipment of the city watch, were found in the Town Hall. In the King's repository, called Garde Meitble, two silver-mounted cannon were found, a present to Louis XIV. from the King of Siam ; they were dragged out and trailed through the streets. Flesselles, Provost of the Merchants, was called upon to give up what arms he had, and promised to send for some from Charleville, but declared he had none by him. His promise was not kept, but instead he was detected in the act of sending away five thousand pounds of gun- powder in a Seine boat. On the morning of the 14th a body of the new guard, acting on information which they had received, hastened to the Hotel of the Invahdes and seized thirty thousand muskets and twenty pieces of cannon. To THE Bastille ! The seizure of the firearms had been made early. At 1 1 o'clock the cry arose, " To the Bastille!" The Bastille was execrated. The sombre prison, it was true, had never shown itself an enemy of the Parisian populace. It was mostly a prison for great persons. But in its frowning blackness it was taken as a symbol of the overshadowing absolutism of monarchs which was now held to be the one thing deserving hate. The Faubourg St. Antoine had "Bastille" both on the brain and the heart ; from its towers the cannon might be turned upon every street in that quarter. Its strategic power was great, but its moral influence appeared now infinitely greater. It was the concretion of the royal prerogative, and so long as it stood there it seemed, in the fierce eyes of the revolutionists, to declare that prerogative enormous, mas- sive, unshaken, founded on a rock. To destroy another monument would be noth- ing, to destroy this would be like crushing absolute power in France. The first drawbridge presented no diffi- culty. A few determined men at once rushed to the chains and broke them. The crowd burst into the outer court, men, women, and children, the latter busy picking up bullets. De Launay had some "ammunition," eighteen cannons apparently good for nothing, a dozen old muskets, and for men, thirty-two Swiss and eighty-two invalids. The governor, how- ever, endeavoured to treat with the insur- gents : "What do you want?" "We want to come in." " Get an order from the Town Hall," said he. During the parley, some of the besiegers rushed at the second draw- bridge, and were received with a discharge from one of the old cannons, the only one fired during the day. This terrified them, and they fell back and occupied themselves with burning the buildings around. A girl, who was seized in the belief that she was De Launay's daughter, was on the point of being burnt alive, but was rescued by an heroic soldier who rushed upon her and con- veyed her to a place of safety. Taken. It was nearly mid-day when the attack began ; at three in the afternoon no progress had been made. But the arrival of three 495 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. hundred Gardes Frangaise with some can- nons gave fresh hopes. But these hopes, too, were somewhat dashed when it was found that the bullets fired went over the fortress and hit people on the other side. One piece burst under their bad manage- ment of it. De Launay, it is said, had received this letter from Flesselles, "Hold out while I amuse the Parisians with cockades." But the fierce clamour all around him, the apparent hopelessness of succour, the failure of the little ammunition that he had had, caused him to despair. He resolved to blow up the fortress. An invalid struck from his hand the torch with which he was approaching the powder magazine. A white handkerchief was waved through a window ; then a letter was passed through: an adventurous be- sieger walked across a plank and received it. It said, "We have twenty thousand pounds of powder ; we will blow up the fortress and the whole quarter if you do not accept our capitulation." " Lower your draw- bridge and you shall have no hurt," was the answer. It was lowered. The crowd rushed in and filled the courts. The Bastille was taken. Those who promised safety to the garrison had no power to give it, even if they had the will. The Sequel. The newly-appointed committee were sit- ting at the Hotel de Ville at half-past five that afternoon, in a state of the utmost anxiety, -when a new and pi'olonged murmur was heard swelling out into a roar. An excited multitude rushed in with shouts of victory, — " The Bastille is taken ! " Two ghastly objects they bore with them,— the head •of De Launay and a severed hand. The bodies to which they belonged were hanging in the Place de Greve. The hand was that of the invalid Bequart who had saved thou- sands of lives by preventing De Launay from blowing up the fortress. Then the savage crowd turned upon Provost Flesselles. " You have deceived us," they shouted. He at- tempted to defend himself, but turned pale with terror as he watched their blood-thirsty countenances, and at length exclaimed, " Since I am suspected I will withdraw." " No, no, you must come to the Palais Royal to be tried." He thereupon went down to ac- company them. The crowd closed upon him ; but on the Quai Pelletier an unknown hand laid him low with a bullet. And what of Louis XVI. ? He seems not to have comprehended at all the gravity of the circumstances whichi surrounded him. His journal is preserved in the Archives Nationales. We will give a few extracts from it without comment : — "1789. — July 1st, Wednesday. Nothing. Deputation of the States. " July 2nd, Thursday. Rode on horseback to the Maine Gate to hunt deer at Port Royal. Took one. " July 3rd, Friday. Nothing. "July 4th, Saturday. Hunt roebuck at Butard. Took one and shot twenty-nine head. " July 5th, Sunday. Vespers and Benedic- tion. " July 6th, Monday. Nothing. " July 7th, Tuesday. Hunt at Port Royal. Took two . "July 8th, Wednesday. Nothing. "July 9th, Thursday. Nothing. Deputa- tion of States. " July loth, Friday. Nothing, Answer to deputation of States. "July nth, Saturday. Departure of M. Necker. "July 1 2th, Sunday. Vespers and Benedic- tion. Departure of MM. de Montmorin, Saint-Priest, and Luzerne. "July 13th, Monday. Nothing. "July 14th, Tuesday, Nothing." He had written this last entry, when late at night he was aroused from his bed by the Duke of Rochefoucald-Liancourt, who came to announce to him that the Bastille had fallen. "Why, this is a revolt," said thepooi man. " Sire," was the answer, " it is a revolution." How he took counsel with his queen and his brother which came to nought ; how he hesitated and doubted whether to employ force, and resolved to go to Paris and declare himself satisfied, and then in terror planned to regain his independence of action — all this belongs to another chapter of history. It only remains to add that seven prisoners only were found in the fortress. One was a lunatic, who was transferred to the asylum at Charen- ton ; four were notorious forgers ; the other was a young man of good family who had been shut up at the request of his father for dissipated life. For two years the great fortress was left dismantled, then by an order of the Assembly it was destroyed. In secret places manu- scripts were brought to light, bitterly lament- ing the helpless position of the writers, one of them furnishing some details, to which Dickens added many imaginary ones in his well-known narrative of Alexander Manette, in his " Tale of Two Cities." The materials were in great part used to build the Carrousel Bridge. A model of the fortress, as it was, made from one of the stones, is at the en- trance of the Archiiies Nationales. There is a similar one in the museum at Amiens, and another in the museum of the Porte de Hal at Brussels. W. B. 49G Inaugl-ration of the League of the Gueux. a LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS!" THE STORY OF THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS. " Heaven is above all, yet. There sits a Judge Whom no king can corrupt ! " — Shakespeare, Henry VIII, A Great Inheritance and an Unworthy Heir — Charles V., his Work and his Abdication — The Great Inheritance of Philip II. — Power and Importance of" Spain in the i6th Century — The Netherlands, and how Charles and Philip ruled There — The Harshness of Charles V. in the !^'etherlands tempered by Policy — The Great Cities — Ghent and its Power — " Roland " the Bell of Ghent — Character of Philip II. — His System of Rule by Terror and Coercion — The Inquisition ; Its Establishment in Spain, and Development under Philip II. — William of Orange Nassau, the Libera- tor of his Country — Lamorel, Count Egmont — Margaret of Parma, the Regent of Flanders— Cardinal Granvella and his Influence — How William of Orange incurred the Hatred of Philip II. — Discontent in the Netherlands — The Compromise and Its Object — How the Great Petition was presented to Margaret of Parma — "Long Live the Beggars ! Vivents les Gueux ! " — The Protestant' Preachers and the Image Breakers — King Philip and his Councillors — Alva — The Storm bursts forth at Last. A Great Inheritance and an Un- worthy Heir. N the history of the world there occur moments in which the destiny of king- doms and principahties seems to waver in the balance — moments fraught with tremendous issues for the weal or woe of millions of people, and with the fate of gene- rations yet unborn — in which are to be decided the great and momentous questions of liberty or slavery, happiness or misery, strife or peace, with* the blessings of religious free- dom or the horrors of fanatical persecution. Such a moment occurred in the year 1555, 497 KK EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and again in the following year. For it was at the first of these epochs that the splendid inheritance of the Netherlands, Spain, and Naples, and of the New World was surren- dered by the Emperor Charles V. to his son Philip ; while at the second the government of the Austrian States, with the management of the affairs of Germany, was transferred by the same potentate to his brother Ferdinand. Never were two men of more entirely dif- ferent character invested with imm.ense authority ; and never in the world's history was it shown how greatly the disposition and the actions of a ruler may influence the destiny of nations. With the rule of Ferdinand, who was raised at the same time to the dignity of Emperor of Germany, a dignity he managed to make hereditary in the Austrian House, began an era of splendid prosperity and development for Germany. From the acces- sion of the gloomy tyrant and fanatic Philip II. dates the ruin and desolation of the Spanish monarchy ; and it was in his reign, moreover, that the spectacle was exhibited of a nation fighting desperately and with ultimate success for its religious and civil liberties, against such tremendous odds that no issue seemed possible but utter and inevitable defeat. It is with the events that led to this struggle, second to none in history in the exciting features of the contest and in the mighty interests involved, that we have now to do. Charles V. ; His Work and his Abdication. The moralist who in search of a proof that "the glories of our birth and state are shadows, not substantial things," could find no more telling illustration than that fur- nished in the career of the Emperor Charles V. That monarch had succeeded to an in- heritance more vast than mortal men had possessed since the corpse of Charlemagne had been laid to rest in the great church of Aachen more than eight centuries before. Spain and Austria and the Netherlands, the golden Americas and the Indies, acknow- ledged his sway. During more than five-and- thirty years he toiled with patient energy to achieve a great purpose, unity of belief and uniformity of practice in the Western Church; only to acknowledge at last that the spirit of the time was too strong for him; and that he had failed in his long battle to maintain mediceval tyranny over the human intellect. The Reformation was too strong for him; and in granting the religious Peace of Augsburg, at the Diet of the Empire, on the 26th of September, 1555, he acknowledged himself beaten. The great contest of his life had brought him only defeat. No wonder, there- fore, that his spirit sank under the bitter feeling of satiety, and he felt that he had been " walking in a vain shadow," and dis- quieting himself only to find failure and dis- appointment. " Nine expeditions into Ger- many, six jto Spain, seven to Italy, four to France, ten to the Netherlands, two to Eng- land, as many to Africa, and eleven voyages by sea," were among the labours of his life enumerated by the Emperor, as — prematurely decrepid and white-haired, for he was only fifty-five years of age — leaning on his crutch, with feeble and indistinct utterance, he gave the reasons that induced him to abdicate his throne and to invest with his dignities his well-beloved son Philip, there present, whose vigorous youth would be able far better than his own enfeebled age to support the burden of royalty. For himself, inasmuch as his broken health no longer permitted him to work for the good of his subjects, it was his intention to devote what remained of his life in this world to meditation and prayer and to pious preparation for the next. It was a touching scene ; nor were there wanting any elements of earthly grandeur to give it impressiveness and solemnity. For in that great hall at Brussels were assembled the knights of the great order of the Golden Fleece, the great Counsellors of the Empire, the representatives of the various provinces, and many men whose names had already been or were destined to be written in inef- faceable characters on the annals of their country and their time. There was Philip, the inheritor of the magnificent empire, thus put into possession in his predecessor's life- time — small of stature, icy and proud in demeanour, hardly melted by the sight of the feeble, tearful old man whom the posses- sion of half the world had failed to render happy ; there was the young Prince William of Orange, handsome and of lofty height, upon whose shoulder the venerable Emperor leaned with familiar affection ; there was Duke Alva, his stern, cruel features impas- sable and scornful as ever ; there were Counts Egmont and Horn, great Flemish nobles, wealthy, popular, and potent for good or evil ; there was Queen Mary of Hun- gary, come to lay down a regency of a quar- ter of a century in the Netherlands at the feet of the fortunate heir. The assembly was worthy of the great occasion, with "princes to behold the swelling scene." Never since Diocletian withdrew from the cares and turmoil of the Roman imperator- ship, and choosing the better part laid down that " ghstening grief," the sovereign rule of Rome, had such an empire been voluntarily laid down by the possessor. " Other princes consider themselves happy" said the feeble Emperor, " in endowing their children with the crown that death demands them to resign. I wish to enjoy this pleasure for myself; I wish to see you live and rule. Few will fol- 498 ''LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS!" low my example ; few have preceded me in it ; but my deed will be praiseworthy, if your future life warrants my confidence. If you never depart from the wisdom you have hitherto displayed ; if you remain firm and unchangeable in the purity of the faith, which is the firmest pillar of your throne." And then the Emperor laid his hand in blessing on the head of him to whose hands such tremendous power and such mighty interests were entrusted, and the pageant was at an end for that time. A few days later Philip, in the presence of an equally splendid and august assembly, took the oath, by which he pledged himself to maintain the liberties, rights, and immunities of the various classes of his subjects in the Low Countries, and to practise towards them that which it behoves a good and just lord and prince to do. How he kept that oath, history has abundantly set forth. The Inheritance of Philip II. ; Power OF Spain. It was noticed that the form in which the oath was set up was far more stringent than that exacted from Charles V., and from his predecessors in the suzerainty of Flanders, the Dukes of Burgundy. In this stringency has been found an evidence of the sus- picion which was even then entertained of the disposition of Philip, and of his tendency towards tyrannical rule. Such suspicions, if they existed, were abundantly verified by the subsequent conduct of the ruler. Philip was a gloomy tyrant, whose religion was bigotry and superstition, and who turned all the powers of a mind versed in all the subtleties of statecraft towards the task of stifling every spark of civil and rehgious liberty throughout his wide dominions. Rather to descend from his throne than to rule over those whom he designated as heretics ; to fight religious inquiry with the hangman's cord, the faggot, and the stake ; to see in every expression of free opinion and every tendency towards independent action a dangerous treason that must be put down by condign punishment, — such were the principles from which, during his long and bitter reign, he never deviated ; and thus it was that from his time may be dated that decline of Spain, almost unexampled in its rapidity and completeness in the history of nations, which converted the mighty country that had been the terror of Europe in the sixteenth century into the carcase round which the eagles were gathered together at the end of the seventeenth. In extent, revenue, and power, the vast empire to which Philip was made ruler was undoubtedly the chief and foremost of its time. His father had indeed thought fit to dissever the German dominions from the vast inheritance, and to leave them to his brother Ferdinand, painfully conscious by his own experience that Spanish and German nation- alities could no more unite than fire and water ; but at one time during the period of his greatest power, Philip's empire included, in Europe, Spain, Portugal, the Nether- lands, Franche Comte, Roussillon, the Mi- lanese, and the two Sicilies ; while in the gorgeous East rich settlements on the coasts of India, the Spice Islands and the Philip- pines, owned his sway and poured wealth into his coffers ; and Mexico and Peru, with the rich islands of the Caribbean Sea, in- creased his revenues, until they are calcu- lated to have reached nearly ten times the revenue of England under Elizabeth. More- over, he held for a time the dominion at once of the land and of the sea, and in that particular it has been rightly said that his power was greater than that of Napoleon. Lord Macaulay aptly quotes the words of the wise Burleigh, spoken concerning Philip to the English Parliament : " The King of Spain, since he hath usurped upon the king- dom of Portugal, hath thereby grown mighty by gaining the East Indies ; so as, how great soever he was before, he is now thereby manifestly more great . . . he is now become as a frontier enemy to all the west of England, as well as all the south parts, as Sussex, Hampshire, and the Isle of Wight." And this was spoken some years after the great disaster of PhiUp's reign, the overthrow of " that great fleet invincible," which bore in vain the richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain, against the indomitable sea- dogs of England. And yot, when this man died, Spain's power was gone ; and the disease of bad government and despotic cruelty was eating into her vitals. The Netherlands, and how Charles V. AND Philip II. ruled there. At the present day it is difficult to realise in the quiet, sedate Belgian towns, such as Ghent and Bruges and Louvain, and even in iron-working Liege itself, the idea that some centuries ago these were among the very wealthiest and most stirring communi- ties in Europe ; pre-eminent alike in the extent and importance of their commerce, the variety and ingenuity of their manifold industries, and the constitutional advantages enjoyed by their citizens. It is natural that regions deriving their prosperity and position from trade should incline towards free in- stitutions. When Napoleon sneered at the English as '' ime nation doutiquikre" a nation of shopkeepers, the sarcasm was directed quite as much against the common- sense of a community that refused to acknow- ledge the advantages of a military dictator- ship, and insisted on managing its own affairs, 499 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Holland, Brabant, a lari^e share of as against the commercial spirit he affected to despise. Where a great field is open to private enterprise, the citizen, the merchant, and manufacturer naturally acquire political power ; and thus it was that Flanders was almost repubhcan in system and in sen- timent during an age of feudal tyranny. "Already in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries," says a writer, " Friesland was a republic except in name ; Flanders, had acquired s e 1 f- g o V e r n- ment.'' When the provinces were obliged to acknowledge a general master in the person of the Duke of Burgundy, and Duke Philip the Good founded the order of the Golden Fleece, at that time the proudest in Europe, he found every- where a consti- tution in full working order, and citizens ready to defend their free insti- tutions to the last extremity ; and none of the Dukes of Bur- gundy, not even tire splenetic and furious Charles the Bold him- self, attempted the task of over- throwing the freedom of the provinces, or in- terfering with their laws. The great wealth of the Netherlands also, that pro vided the princes of the Burgundian House with the chief part of their magnificent revenues, formed a reason for respecting their institutions which did not exist in the case of such poor communities as, for instance, Swit- zerland ; to offend a nation who could put armies in the field for them, and furnish them with the means of keeping up splendid courts, was manifestly opposed to the first principles ofpohcy. Accordingly the Nether- i-'nds continued to increase in wealth, con- sequence, and in a spirit of independence that amounted at times even to turbulence, until through the marriage of Mary of Bur- gundy, the daughter and heiress of Charles the Bold, with the Archduke Maximilian of Austria (afterwards the Emperor Maximilian I.), they came under a new dominion, and in due course passed under the sway of Charles, First of Spain and Fifth of Germany, the grandson of Maximilian and Mary, and of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile. Here was a complete change of the political situa- tion. Charles was not, like the Burgundian dukes, depen- dent upon Flan- ders for his re- venues; he • could bring a loreign force into the country, in case of ne- cessity, to put down discon- tent and enforce despotic enact- me nt s. He would combat Flanders with Spain. No wonder, there- fore, that the N ether landers looked with ex- treme distrust and jealousy upon the foreign power to which they had be- come subject, . and were more than ever tena- cious of their liberties; or that Charles should endeavour to make his power felt by curtailing those liberties in various particulars. The antagonism of race had also a powerful influence in prevent- ing a good understanding between Spain and the Netherlands. Grotius remarks on the im- possibility of the unnatural union of two such opposite nations turning out well. The Netherlanders could live on an admirable footing with the nations around them, who were of kindred race with themselves and had advanced to greatness by the same roads. But Spaniards and Netherlanders 50c William the Silent. "LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS!" were in most things entirely different. The martial ardour and warlike proclivities of the Spaniards had been kept alive by campaigns in Italy and in Africa. Considerations of profit and home prosperity had inclined the Netherlander to peace, while he was exceed- ingly tenacious in defending what he had gained. The Spaniards are portrayed by Grotius as an exceedingly laborious people, dauntless in danger, keen alike in the pursuit of wealth and of fame, proud to a degree that inspired them with a contempt for foreigners, piously inclined, and mindful of benefits re- ceived ; but on the other hand, revengeful, and so devoid of self-restraint in the hour of victory, as to lose all considerations of con- science and honour in dealing with the van- quished. All this is opposite to the character of the Netherlander, who is cunning but not vindictive, and who, stationed in the midst between France and Germany, exhibits, in a mitigated degree, the weaknesses and strength of both. Respect towards their rulers is a sentiment they have in common ; with this difference that the Netherlander places the laws above the king. It was a difficult task for the ruler of these two nations, so different from each other, to so divide his care and his favoui's between them, that a preference shown towards the Castilians should not offend the Netherlanders, while the equality granted to the latter should not outrage Castilian pride. The Harshness of Charles V. in the Netherlands tempered by Policy. Under the rule of Charles V., the Nether- lands soon found that from being a nation they had become a province, and were looked upon by their ruler as a means of carrying out his ambitious views, and a storehouse of men and arms, to be used in his warlike ex- peditions, and in enterprises that frequently brought loss rather than profit to the inhabi- tants of the Low Countries. The nobles and citizens stood aghast at the innovations made by the Emperor, and at his haughty way of disregarding their privileges and immunities. Thus the Tribunal at Mechlin, formerly an independent court, was subordinated to a royal council established by Charles at Brussels, — a council which was a mere mouth- piece of the monarch's will. Spaniards were mtroduced into every department of State business, and invested with the most im- portant offices. Contributions were demanded to defray the expenses of the ruler's foreign wars, and in many cases the States were obliged to put on an appearance of voluntary acquiescence to escape the coercion that would have followed a refusal. Worse than all, as inflicting a deeper wound upon the national pride of the Netherlands, foreign troops were quartered in the Flemish towns, and soldiers were recruited from among them for foreign wars. " And again the whiskered Spaniard all the land with terror smote, And again the loud alarum sounded from the tocsin's throat, Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand, I am Roland, I am Roland, there is victory in the land." For the great and populous city of Ghent, whose walls measured nine miles in circuit, and whose complement of fighting men old Froissart already estimated at eighty thousand, — Ghent, that has been rightly described as " rather a commonwealth than a city," in an evil hour rose up in insurrection against the powerful Emperor. The great bell " Roland," ihe palladium and emblem of the city's liberties, called the burghers to arms ; and Charles at once repaired with an army to Ghent, and inflicted such a chastisement on the rebels as struck terror through the whole of the Netherlands. A tremendous confiscation, in which even the bell Roland was included, taught the citizens that the day of their freedom was past ; and that, though the Emperor might at times graciously please to wear the velvet glove, the iron hand was ever present. A hundred and thirty persons implicated in the rising had to beg their lives, and express their deepest contrition for their misdeeds, in the shirt of penitence, with halters round their necks. Nineteen of the ringleaders were beheaded ; and Charles only granted pardon to the city on the intervention of the Oueen Regent, who begged him of his imperial clemency to show favour to the city that had witnessed his birth. But, though sufficiently inclined to tyran- nise over the Netherlands, Charles was a politic, if not a just, ruler. He understood that in commerce lay the true strength of his kingdom, and that for commercial supremacy a certain amount at least of municipal free- dom is indispensable. Accordingly it was not his design entirely to humiliate the Netherlands, and to deprive that valuable part of his dominions of all political signi- ficance. Moreover there was much in the moral character of the Netherlanders, with their bluff, hearty manners, their magnificent banquets, — for he was a gluttonous man, even to the days of his monastic retirement at St. Yuste, — and in their outspoken pride of wealth and trade, that attracted him, and proved a welcome relief from the sedate gravity of the Spaniards. His frequent visits to the Low Countries, and the favour he extended to some of their chief men, attest this. Moreover he understood and spoke their language, and was fond of holding long conversations with them, in which he could cci EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. infuse a certain grace and condescension; and familiar intercourse with monarchs often goes far towards pacifying rebellious minds. Thus he retained a certain personal popularity in spite of the weight with which his exactions, his agents, and his recruiting continually burdened the land. Character of Philip II. In appearance and manners Philip was very different from his father. He was a Spaniard of the coldest and gravest type, impassive and ceremonious in manner, un- sympathetic, untouched by the joys and sorrows of men, whom he was accustomed to regard as tools wherewith to work out his schemes. He spoke only Spanish, would have none but Spaniards about his person. A pupil of the monks, he was perfect in the art of concealing the workings of his mind under an appearance of stony indifference. It is told that when his father summoned him from Spain to Brussels in his youth, to show him to the nation whom he was one day to rule, neither the shouts of the populace nor the gorgeous magnificence of his recep- tion could bring a smile to the youth's gloomy face ; and that the first impression he made upon the Flemings was the con- viction that they would find in him a tyrant whose schemes it would behove them to thwart by every means in their power. The seventeen provinces that made up Philip's possessions in the Netherlands were in the most flourishing condition when they came into his hands. Prosperity and plenty were everywhere apparent ; the numerous great and important towns had never been so wealthy. "No people on earth," says Schiller, in his " History of the Revolt of the Netherlands," " could have been more easily ruled by a sensible prince, and none could have been found more difficult to rule by a juggler or a tyrant." If Philip could have made up his mind to allow even a qualified freedom to his Flemish subjects, he might have gained the good-will of the nobles, whose pride was flattered at the idea of serving a mighty prince, and whose influence would have gone far to reconcile the country in general to his rule ; but it was the peculiarity of his character that nothing would satisfy him short of the slavish submission of the serf or the unquestioning obedience of the Jesuit to his superior. Terror was the means by which he chose to rule ; and his mind, busy and indefatigable in the working out of details, had neither the elevation nor the breadth to work out a statesmanlike scheme of rule, or to read the signs of the times. The Inquisition ; Its Development UNDER Philip. Among the difficulties experienced by Charles V. in the government of the Nether- lands, and, indeed, of his vast dominions generally, one of the chief arose out of that greatest of the movements in his century, the Reformation. Charles from the first took up a position of uncompromising antagonism against the Reformation ; for not without reason he saw an analogy between an aspira- tion for religious and a striving for political liberty; and looked upon Protestantism as certain to interfere with his scheme of universal government. Accordingly he stood up with all his strength against Luther and the other reformers, and against the princes who, like Frederick of Saxony, adopted the new doctrines. His opposition had at least as much a political as a religious character ; and indeed the extravagances of the fanatical leaders, the Bockholts and the Miinzers, the atrocities of the Anabaptists at Munster, and the crimes of the revolted peasants, who tried to affiliate their rising to the cause of the Reformation, might well warrant distrust and suspicion in the brain of a cautious and jealous ruler like Charles. In the Low Countries, too, the Reformed doctrines had established themselves with astonishing rapidity among a quick-witted and argumentative people, accustomed to freedom of speech, and eager to discuss a question that affected them so nearly. Sa much alarmed* had Charles been by the movement, that he introduced, to combat it, the most terrible weapon ever employed by a government, — a weapon doubly dreaded from the secrecy with which its deadly wounds were inflicted, — the Spanish Inquisi- tion. Under every form the Inquisition has been a foul blot on the civilisation of Europe, and a reproach to every Christian government that could establish, and every Christian community that could endure it'; but in Spain it has always been invested with a darker horror of wickedness. The Spanish Inquisition introduced by Ferdinand of Aragon, with Torquemada for its high priest, far surpassed in its fiendish cruelty, in the ingenuity and duration of the tortures inflicted on its victims, and the utter abnegation of humanity in its every proceeding, that older institu- tion of the " Holy Office," of which it was the logical sequel and outcome. The object of the Inquisition in Spain was in the first instance to root out the remains of the Ma- hometan religion, which had become part and parcel of the fife of those Moorish in- habitants of southern Spain, whose country had been conquered by the armies of Ferdi- nand and Isabella, and many of whom sought by a nominal conversion to Christianity to escape the hard fate of exile, while in secret they remained attached to the faith of their forefathers, and practised its rites. After- 502 "LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS ! " wards, under the auspices of the monks, the system was elaborated with a completeness of fiendish cruelty hardly credible. No rank placed by reason, justice, or humanity on their proceedings. Not a single one among those forms of ordinary judicial proceeding was exempt from the overwhelming power of the femiliars of the holy office ; no place was safe from their intrusion ; no check was upheld by the general consent of humanity in the interest of accused persons was allowed to come between the prisoner and 503 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the Inquisition, Once entangled in the meshes of its horrible net, escape was im- possible. The nnhappy prisoner was first kept for forty-eight hours in a solitary dungeon, without food. Then he was brought before the tribunal ; but a definite charge was seldom made against him. He was told to remember in what way he had offended, and was exhorted to accuse him- self, and made to beheve that in free con- fession lay the only means for pardon and reconciliation with the Church. No limit was placed on the amount or the frequency of the torture emjployed to extort admissions ; whatever was extorted from bodily anguish was used for procuring condemnation ; and denial was looked upon as evidence of hardened contumacy, in itself a sufficient warrant for condemnation. The Auto-da- fe, or act of faith, as the public ceremonial at the execution of a number of con- demned prisoners of the Inquisition was called, was invested with all the pomp and circumstance of a public hohday. The vic- tims condemned to die were clad in long yellow gabardines, on which figures of imps and demons were painted in black ; on their heads they wore conical mitres or hats similarly decorated. Those who confessed and abjured their heresy were strangled before the flames consumed their bodies ; those who persisted were burnt alive. Any look of pity or manifestation of sympathy for a heretic was sufficient to bring a man under suspicion ; and to fall under suspicion was enough to consign any one to a dun- geon. Even kings and queens, the virtuous Isabella of Castille herself not excepted, were present. At these executions the Grand Inquisitor sat on a higher chair than that occupied by the monarch himself, who on these occasions, with bared head, acknow- ledged the supremacy of the Church ; and the solemnity of the occasion was considered as enhanced where a large number of victims were delivered over at one and the same time to the secular arm. For the Church, too merciful herself to inflict punish- ment of death on the victim, gave him up to the executioner, with recommendation that he should be dealt with tenderly, and without effusion of blood. The Inquisition had been partially intro- duced into the Netherlands by Charles V. in 1522 ; but it was more open in its action, more like a regular court, and was not pre- sided over by Dominicans — nor did it act in secret. It was reserved for Philip to esta- blish an atrocious tribunal, in the Spanish form, in the fair country of the Flemings ; and this would in itself be a sufficient reason for the revolt which convulsed the land some years later. William of Orange, Egmont, Margaret OF Parma, and Cardinal Granvella. That the establishment of such a horrible tribunal as the Inquisition should be the occasion of widespread anger and disaffection can be well imagined ; and to this other grievances were added. The quartering of Spanish troops in the Netherlands, intro- duced by Charles V., had often been ener- getically protested against. During the wars of the German Emperor there seemed some necessity for the burden ; now, however, in time of peace, "these troops were looked upon as the terrible preparations for oppression, and as the instruments of a hated hierarchy." There was a general and clamorous demand for their departure. Philip, without exactly refusing the request, contrived to keep them in the country ; and, at length, when the Estates protested more energetically than before against the retention of these troops, as seeming to imply that they, the inhabitants, were not competent to defend their own country for the King, Philip angrily exclaimed that he was a foreigner, and asked whether he ought not on that account to be expected to quit Flanders without delay ? And with these words he descended from his throne, and quitted the council-hall in high dis- pleasure. The various subjects of annoyance which the imperious King continually found in the independent spirit of the Netherlanders made him anxious to quit a country so uncongenial to his temperament, and where he was so often reminded of a public spirit he was determined to crush. But it was necessary to appoint a regent for the Netherlands, an office second to none in importance during the absence of the monarch. It had been provisionally administered by Duke Philibert of Savoy ; but as the recently concluded peace of Chateau Cambresis had restored that prince to his dominions, the duty of appointing a successor urgently presented itself Of those who were entitled to aspire to this high office, the first in rank and in merit was William, Prince of Orange Nassau, This remarkable man, who afterwards earned the proud title oi pater pai7'ice, belonged to one of the most illustrious of the German houses, and one that in the 13th century had given a ruler to the Empire in the person of Adol- phus of Nassau, who met his death in the battle of Gollheim, in 1298, fighting valiantly against Albert of Austria, the son of Rodolph of Hapsburg. He was brought up at the Court of Charles V., with whom he was an especial favourite, and who, it is told, per- mitted him alone to be present when the Emperor gave audience to foreign ambas- sadors; which is taken as a proof that already at that time he had earned by his discretion S04 ''LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS/" the honourable title of" the Silent,"' by which he was afterwards distinguished. His father, the Count of Nassau, was a Lutheran. The Emperor, nevertheless, caused the young prince to be brought up in the Catholic religion, which, in later years, William ex- changed for the Calvinistic form of Pro- testantism. When Charles abdicated his throne, William was three-and-twenty years old. The Emperor had twice distinguished him by proofs of his especial regard — once, when he gave him the honourable office of carrying the Imperial crown to Charles's brother and successor, Ferdinand ; and again, when he bestowed on the Prince of Orange the command of the Imperial troops in Flan- ders on the retirement of Philibert of Savoy. He was enormously wealthy, and exercised a great and noble hospitality. The second, who had a right by his position and services to aspire to the great office of Regent of the Netherlands, was Lamoral, Count of Egmont and Prince of Gavre. He was a descendant of the Counts of Gueldres, and, like William of Orange, had been dis- tinguished by the favour of Charles V., who made him a knight of the great Order of the Golden Fleece. The two victories at Grave- lines and St. Ouentin had gained him an almost exaggerated fame, and made him enormously popular among his countrymen. He was looked upon as the man who had, by his courage and conduct, procured for them the blessings of peace. The Nether- landers were proud of him, as the greatest of their countrymen. The Count himself, a man of kindly feelings, and with his heart expanded by the sunshine of prosperity, in- creased the favourable impression among his countrymen by the engaging freedom of his manners and address, and by the genial plea- sure he evidently took in the expressions of good-will with which he was greeted whenever he appeared in pubhc. While the acute in- tellect of the Prince of Orange looked "quite through the deeds of men," and could esti- mate actions and motives at their true value, the sunny optimism of Egmont refused to believe in the existence of duplicity and cun- ning, which were entirely foreign to his own nature ; and thus not unfrequently was led into error by the kindliness of his disposition. The claims of the two great nobles to the regency were equally balanced, and Phihp passed both of them by. He distrusted and detested the Prince of Orange, and was con- scious that he himself was thoroughly under- stood by that astute prince, and, consequently, he would not advance the Prince of Oi-ange. Egmont, on the other hand, was far too popular with his own countrymen to render him a fit servant of Philip as ruler of the Netherlands ; while his descent from the Counts of Gueldres seemed to point him out as the natural leader of the Flemings, if it should at any time occur to them to stand up for their independence against the son of the man who had introduced the Inquisition among them and had taxed them illegally ; and an appearance of impartiality was given by the fact that the King passed over them both, as if he did not wish to favour one of these distinguished men at the expense of the other. The truth was, their popularity was an invincible obstacle with each of them. The person whom the King chose as regent, to the exclusion alike of Orange and Egmont, was a relative of his own, the Duchess Mar- garet of Parma. Margaret was an illegitimate daughter of the Emperor Charles V., who gave her a royal education, and already in her fourth year caused her to be betrothed to a Duke of Ferrara. This engagement was afterwards cancelled, and after the return of the Emperor from Africa, Margaret was married to Alexander of Medicis, whom she lost a year later ; and again Margaret's hand was given away by her Imperial father, this time to Alexander Farnese, who received as the dowry of his wife the duchies of Parma and Piacenza. Margaret was a woman of masculine appearance and manners. She spoke and moved like a man, and was a great huntress, like her ancestress, Mary of Bur- gundy. Her masculine appearance was in- creased by the moustachio that adorned her upper lip. In religion she was a bigoted Romanist. How William of Orange incurred THE Hatred of Philip II. It is supposed that Philip considered the innovations he purposed introducing in Flan- ders would be more easily accepted at the hands of a woman, and that this had detei'- mined his choice. He veiled his hatred against the nobles, and especially against the Prince of Orange and Egmont, by the bestowal of important offices upon them, and by offering to each in turn the command of the Spanish troops who were to be left in the provinces. At a solemn assembly of the nobles and estates of the realm at Brussels, he recommended to the loyal consideration of his loving subjects the sister whom he left with them as regent, recapitulated the benefits he claimed to have conferred upon the State, promised to send his son Carlos if he him- self should be unable to return, and took leave of the country he was never to behold again. On one occasion only his anger and spite against the Prince of Orange burst forth through the artificial veil of dissimulation. When he was about to embark at Flushing, the Prince of Orange was present, with many other nobles, to bid him farewell. The King took William bitterly to task for the discon- tents that had been manifested in the pro- EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. vinces. The Prince respectfully replied that nothing had been done except by the autho- rity of the Estates. "No, no !" exclaimed Philip, his anger for once blazing out, as he seized the Prince's wrist and shook it vio- lently ; " not the Estates, but you — you — you !" In astonishment at this outbreak, the Prince turned away, and wished the King a pleasant voyage, without accompanying him on board his ship. A deep-seated distrust of all men was a part of the system of Philip II. ; but if there was one man whom he looked upon with something like confidence it was Antony Peranot, Bishop of Arras, afterwards Arch- bishop of Mechlin and Metropolitan of the Netherlands, better known and universally hated in Flanders under the name of Cardinal Granvella. He was a man of remarkable talents and deep and wide erudition, inde- fatigable in the discharge of State business, carrying out the smallest details with labo- rious conscientiousness. He thoroughly un- derstood his master, and would frequently put into definite shape a thought but half formed in the sluggish mind of Philip, to whom he would transfer the credit of the invention, illustrating the old proverb, " The page slew the boar, the king took the gloire." He really led Philip, in the only way in which that gloomy and superstitious tyrant could be led, by concealing his power and affecting to depreciate his own skill. Philip had espe- cially recommended Granvella to his sister the Regent, impressing on Margaret that she should make use of the advice and experience of this astute and reliable counsellor on all occasions of difficulty. Discontent in the Netherlands ; The Compromise and its Object. The projects of the King at Madrid were soon apparent in the actions of his minister. During the years that immediately followed Philip's departure from the Netherlands, the chief efforts of the Regent, seconded, or rather divided, by Granvella, tended to the setting up of an episcopal tyranny in the provinces, and to the carrying out of the edicts against the heretics with increased severity by the agency of the Inquisition. Gradually a clamour of discontent and opposition arose, which swelled into an universal roar of execra- tion against Granvella, who, as primate in Flanders, actively carried out the new system, which redounded greatly to his profit ; for among the new bishoprics that were created, six, namely, Antwerp, Bois-le-duc, Ghent, Bruges, Ypem, and Riiremonde, were imme- diately subordinate to the archbishopric of Mechlin. In the State Council the voice of Granvella prevailed against the opinion of all the rest ; and even the Regent herself had to defer to his opinion. Worse than all was the fact that these new bishoprics were asso- ciated with the spreading and strengthening of the Inquisition ; for to each of them two inquisitors were attached, while the Cardinal had the title of Grand Inquisitor. Granvella himself at last recognized his position as untenable in the face of the urgent petitions addressed to Philip for his removal ; and at length, after he had earnestly himself solicited his recall, and the three great nobles, William of Orange, Stadtholder of Holland, Lamoral, Count Egmont, Stadtholder of Flanders, and the wealthy and influential Count Horn, re- fused to appear at the council-board, Philip reluctantly called away his subservient agent, and Granvella quitted the Netherlands, leav- ing behind him the curses of millions, and the reputation of a persecutor and a traitor to the country. Even the Duchess Margaret disliked him intensely, and felt a relief at his departure. But "the evil that men do lives after them." Granvella was gone from Flanders, but his system remained ; and the King was deter- mined at all cost to establish religious uni- formity in the Netherlands. On his return to Spain from the N etherlands he had bound himself by an oath to extirpate heresy through- out his dominions : the dungeon, the rack, and the faggot had been unsparingly employed in carrying fulfilment of this oath ; and Philip would hear of no mitigation of the penalties against religious offenders. Egmont, as a man whose loyalty and patriotism were alike well known, was deputed, in 1565, to lay the state of affairs before the King ; but he could get no satisfaction at Madrid, the King dis- missing him with that famous declaration, that rather than rule over heretics he would not rule at all. He would rather lose every foot of his territories, and die a thousand deaths, than sanction the slightest change in matters of religion. Such an answer could not fail to inflame popular feeling, and create disgust and anger among the higher classes. The Prince of Orange showed his sense of Philip's conduct and of the cruelties and injustice practised upon the people by abjuring the Roman Catholic faith, in which he had been brought up, for that of his ancestors. The nobles for the most part belonged to the old religion; but they were as antagonistic to the Inqui- sition as the Protestants themselves, seeing in it the future ruin and desolation of their country. Accordingly some four hundred of them came together and signed a document called the Compromise, wherein they pledged themselves to stand by one another in resist- ance against the Inquisition, and religious persecution generally. This step, in which tyranny saw nothing less than a conspiracy to subvert all authority, they followed up by a petition for the abolition of the laws against 506 " LONG LIVE THE BEGGERS ! " Procession of Nobles to Margaret of Parii.i heretics, and the suspension of the prose- cutions undertaken by the Inquisition. On the 4th of April, 1 566, the members of the league who had signed the Compromise met in the Kinlemburg House, the palace of Count Egmont ; and here Brederode, one of 507 their chiefs, obtained from them a second oath, that they would stand by one another, if necessary, with arms in their hands. At the same time their zeal and indignation were inflamed by the exhibition of a letter from Spain, which set forth " how" a certain Pro- EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY testant, whom they all knew and respected, had been burnt alive there by a slow fire. It was determined to present the petition to the Regent Margaret next day. How THE Great Petition was pre- sented TO Margaret of Parma. On the morrow, accordingly, the 5th of April, a company of nearly four hundred men, among them many nobles and persons of liigh position, and with the Count of Nassau and Brederode at their head, marched in procession, four and four, through the streets of Brussels to the palace, while all the city looked on in breathless expectation. The Regent Margaret, not a little disturbed to find so many of the foremost men in the country among the throng of petitioners, received them surrounded by her counsellors, and by the Knights of the Golden Fleece. Brederode addressed her in the most respectful terms, assuring her that the petition, of whose im- portance the numerous assembly was a suffi- cient guarantee, contained nothing that was incompatible with the good of the country or the dignity of the King. The chief object of the petition was to beg that a competent person might be despatched to Madrid to entreat the monarch to rescind the objection- able edicts, and stop the progress of the Inquisition ; for their continuance could not fail to produce the worst consequences to the Netherlands. Margaret gave them hopes that the prayer of their petition would be granted, and promised to give them their answer on the morrow. The next day, accordingly, they came in yet stronger numbers to receive the reply, which was to the effect that though the granting of their petition went beyond the powers with which the Regent was entrusted, one of the nobles should be despatched to Spain to lay their case before the King, backed with all the influence of the Regent ; and that meanwhile directions should be issued to the inquisitors to fulfil their office in as moderate a manner as possible ; while, on her part, she expected that the League would show a similar moderation, and under- take nothing against the dignity or authority of the monarch. This was quite as much as the petitioners expected to achieve for the time, and accordingly they withdrew not ill- pleased. '•' Long Live the Beggars ! Vivent LES GUEUX ! " It happened that Brederode that night entertained at a banquet the majority of those who had taken part in the procession. The events of the day were talked over, and the courage of the guests, who were present to the number of some three hundred, rose as the wine mounted to their brains. Then it happened how one of the guests told how he had noticed that Margaret of Parma had changed colour when the petition was pre- sented, whereupon one of the Council, Count Barlaimont, had said to her she was not to be frightened at a lot of beggars {guenx). The designation had a certain grim humour in it ; for, as Schiller says, " in truth the majority of them had been reduced by bad economy in a manner that only two well justified the word." The idea of adopting the epithet as a name for the League at once struck a number of the company, and there arose a shout of "Long live the Beggars !" which was repeated again and again, amid a tumult of applause. What had been first started as a jest was adopted in earnest. Brederode presently appeared with a wallet' such as the mendicant friars and pilgrims were accustomed to wear. With this strange insignia suspended round his neck, he drank to the company, having exchanged " his figured goblet for a dish of wood," thanking them for joining the union, and vowing that he was ready to risk his life and everything that he had for each one among them. The cup was then passed to each one in turn, and each man took the same oath as he drained it. Wallets were then passed round, and the guests hung them up behind their chairs, as distinguishmg marks of the fraternity of the Beggars. The shouting and tumult of these proceed- ings had attracted the attention of William of Orange and of the Counts Egmont and Horn, who happened to be passing the door, and wondered what made Brederode's guests so noisy. They stepped into the house, and were received with acclamations ; and the host would take no denial but they must stay and take a glass with their friends. This they did amid the frantic applause of the guests, who looked upon the proceeding as a formal joining of the League by these three illustrious visitors. " We only drank a single small glass," said Egmont afterwards inhis defence, when arraignedfor high treason, " and they shouted ' Long live the King, and long live the Beggars !' I heard the expres- sion for the first time, and certainly it dis- pleased me ; but the times were so evil, that one had to take part in many things against one's inclination, and I thought I was doing a harmless thing." And now the festivity grew last and furious ; the spirits of the company were raised to the highest point of triumphant joviality in the pleasure of gain- ing three such recruits to their cause ; they drank and shouted with redoubled vigour, and many were intoxicated, not entirely by joy, on the occasion. Never was a national league of vital importance more whimsically inaugurated. 508 ''LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS/'' How THE GREAT CONSPIRACY WENT ON. The zeal of the newly-established league did not evaporate with the fumes of the fes- tive wine. What had been resolved upon in the joyous tumult of a banquet was de- liberately carried out when reflection came. The members of the new fraternity chose a dress, of an ashen grey coloL:r, such as was worn by mendicant friars and penitents, and in this garb they clothed their servants and families ; and whenever the grey gowns appeared in the streets of Brussels, some wearers, moreover, displaying in their hats or at their girdles wooden cups, dishes, and similar insignia of the beggar's trade, the fraternity increased in numbers and import- ance. Then it was that a medal was adopted, a gold or silver coin, displaying on one side the eftigy of Phihp II., with the legend, " Faithful to the King," and on the other a pair of folded hands supporting a wallet, with the words, " To the beggar's staff." In time, the name '" Gueux" was adopted by all who, in the Netherlands, separated them- selves from the Papacy, and ultimately took up arms against the King. After a closing interview with Margaret of Parma, in which the Regent exhorted the chiefs of the confederation to behave peaceably and moderately, and above all to abstain from all innovation, and from increasing the numbers of their union, until the King's answer should arrive from Madrid, Brederode, Kuilemberg, and Bergen, the three chiefs, quitted Brussels at the head of a cavalcade of more than five hundred horsemen. But they had no inten- tion of limiting their activity ; on the con- trary, they wished to extend the confederation of the Gueux as widely as possible. Brede- rode proceeded to Antwerp, where he ap- peared at the window of a tavern with a brimming wine-glass in his hand, and told the expectant crowd that he had come, with peril of his life and property, to relieve them from the burden of the Inc|uisition. Mean- while Margaret of Parma, with the help of her councillors, drew up a document which halted half-way between the demands of the malcontents and the edicts of tlie King, and which was known by the name of the Mode- ration. To this document she cleverly ob- tained the consent of the various towns and districts separately, thus giving them no op- portunity for common discussion or remon- strance. But there was reason to believe that the nation would not be content with this " Moderation," even if it were confirmed by the King ; for the document hgid been drawn up without consultation with the Estates ; and this had been made a great point. It was also decided, against the advice of the Prince of Orange, to keep the docu- ment secret until the King's sanction had been obtained. The document itself was of a most unsatisfactory nature, for it did not include the abolition of a single important griev- ance, and at a later period was nick-named by the angry people the " Murderation." William, Prince of Orange, and the Counts Egmont and Horn had hitherto maintained a position midwny between the malcontents and the party of the government. They now determined to withdraw from public affairs altogether, having no hope that a favourable answer would be received from Madrid, and conscious that their counsels were systemati- cally opposed and overruled. Margaret of Parma protested vehemently against this pro- ceeding, representing to the Prince of Orange especially that as the heads of the conspiracy of the Gueux, Prince Louis of Nassau and Brederode, were respectively his brother and his friend, if William suddenly forsook the councils of his king, it would be universally held that he favoured the conspirators. For a time the Prince of Orange and Count Egmont were persuaded by the Regent to remain ; but Horn retired to one of his estates, declaring he would serve emperors and kings no more. The party of the Gueux, meanwhile, in- creased rapidly in numbers and importance. In the provinces they were looked upon as the friends and supporters of the popular cause, and in various towns merchants and citizens of note openly declared themselves of their party, and wore their insignia. All who were discontented, all who conceived them- selves injured by the tyranny and injustice ot the government, all who looked to see the ex- isting state of things overthrown, gathered round them. "To be pointed out as a valu- able recruit to the confederacy," says Schiller, " flattered the vain man ; the opportunity of mingling unobserved and unpunished in the great crowd, lured the coward." And now there came flocking into the Netherlands a crowd of German Protestants and French Huguenots, bent on proselytizing, for which they saw a favourable opportunity. Calvin- ists, Lutherans, and Anabaptists vied with each other in the endeavour to win souls ; the three sects having little in common ex- cept a bitter and inextinguishable hatred against the Roman Church and the Inqui- sition, and against the Spanish Government as its tool. Expecting that the " Moderation " would be accepted at Madrid, the Regent had given directions to the magistrates of various districts that the Inquisition should proceed with caution and moderation. This recoinmendation had been understood in so wide a sense that for a time the operations of that tribunal were almost suspended. Emboldened by this, the Protestants, who until then had ht&n fain to meet for worship by night and in secret places, came together 509 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. openly in crowds to listen to the fiery exhor- tations of favourite preachers ; and a magis- trate who rashly endeavoured to arrest one iA these preachers who was addressing an open-air meeting of some thousands, was so ■furiously attacked by the populace with sticks and stones that he barely escaped with his life. Hermann Strieker, a quondam monk ■who had escaped from his convent, and Peter Dathan, a monk who had abjured his belief, were the most popular and influential among the preachers ; and Ambrosius Ville, a French Calvinist, excited the Protestants of Tournay. The boldness of the preachers and of the audiences increased with the sympathy they found. Besides Tournay, Valenciennes, and Antwerp distinguished themselves by the audacity with which they defied the laws against heresy. They soon got so far as to establish camps by making an enclosure of carts and waggons, within which their ser- vices were held, guarded by armed men ; and in many cases these meetings were defaced by the wildest extravagance. The Romish Church and its ceremonies, the doc- trine of purgatory and the various dogmas were turned into ridicule, and made the subjects of coarse wit and buffoonery, the hearers expressing their approval by clap- ping of hands, as at a dramatic show. The wonted impunity increased the boldness of the sectaries ; and after a short time they actually made a practice of conveying their preachers home in triumph, with a mounted escort, in open and contemptuous defiance of the law. The Storm bursts forth at last. The confederacy of the Gueux was mean- while becoming stronger and stronger. The lower class of people became more and more turbulent, and in Antwerp the disturbance reached such a pitch that some of the great merchants meditated quitting the town alto- gether, fearful of being plundered by the unruly mob. Urgent messages were sent to Mar- garet of Parma, begging her by her personal presence to restore order in the distracted city, or at least to send the Prince of Orange, the only man of sufficient weight to control the jarring factions. Though it went against her inclination to entrust Antwerp to William, the Regent felt bound to comply with the latter of these requests, and the Prince was welcomed in Antwerp with the utmost enthu- siasm. The whole city seemed to have turned out to meet him. Again the cry, " Long live the Gueux !" was raised with joyful shouts in honour of the Prince. " Look at him," cried others, " he it is who brings us liberty." " He is everything to us !" cried others ; and thus, amid a jubilant clamour of young and old, the Prince rode into the city, grave and anxious, and with Avords of warning on his lips to the excited populace, whom he adjured to be careful what they did lest they should one day repent it. Brederode meanwhile had taken advantage of the Regent's request that he would aid her in maintaining peace to issue a general summons of the whole league of the Gueux, in the town of St. Truyea, whither Brederode and Ludwig of Nassau had betaken themselves, at the head of two thousand men, with the intention of obtain- ing new concessions from Margaret, who negotiated with them through the Prince of Orange and Count Egmont, and who bitterly complained of this display of force as un- necessary, and calculated to produce distur- bances. The Gueux, on the other hand, defended the step they had taken by de- claring that while they thanked the Regent for all she had done for them, they feared her commands for moderation were but ill carried out, so long as they saw their fellow- countrymen dragged to prison and to death on account of their religion. They declared themselves loyal to the King ; but at the same time they let it be plainly seen that they intended to stand together for their own defence, and were as inimical as ever to the Inquisition. Meanwhile, in Spain, the envoys who had been sent to procure the consent of the King and Government to the Moderation, were able to effect nothing. The Council summoned to deliberate on the matter, among whom was the Duke of Alva, the most suspicious and unscrupulous of bigots, could see nothing in the demands of the Gueux but an organized attempt to create a rebellion, and a deter- mination to overthrow all authority, and to obtain what they declared the King could not grant, — complete freedom of religious belief. The advice of the Council to the King was that His Majesty should refuse to grant the Moderation in the form demanded, but should grant some smaller concessions, while a partial amnesty might be given for past offences ; and, on the other hand, all public preaching, all confederations, meet- ings, leagues, should be forbidden under the heaviest penalties ; and that meanwhile the Regent should avail herself of the garrisons in the different towns, and, if necessary, raise fresh troops to combat any attempt at insu- bordination. The advice of the Council was taken. Philip made some trifling and value- less concessions that he might at any time revoke, but certainly promised some modi- fication in the action of the Inquisition. The boon, such as it was, came too late, for the question had now assumed a new aspect. King Philip and his Councillors ; Alva. The storm of popular fury that had been ■Iio " L ONG LIVE THE BEGGARS .' " long gathering had at length burst violently forth in various towns in the Netherlands. The anger of the populace showed itself first in expressions of contempt directed against the monks and their teachings, and against the worship of images and of sacred symbols, from the host downwards. Suddenly in all Flanders and Brabant, in all the chief cities such as Brussels, Antwerp, Ypern, etc., the rage of the people vented itself upon images, escape ; in many places the roads were strewn with the fragments of broken sculp- ture and of objects used in the church services. Nor did the convents escape uninjured ; and various valuable libraries also became the prey of the fanatic mobs, and were committed to the flames. Margaret of Parma found herself com- pelled, in the extremity to which her authority was brought by these disturbances, to church ornaments, and consecrated vessels and implements. Crowds of people belong- ing to the lowest classes ranged through the towns, breaking in pieces and destroying furniture, decorations, and pictures and images. It was on the 14th of August, 1566, that this carnival of sacrilege began ; and within three days more than four hundred churches and chapels had been plundered and desecrated. Even the crucifixes and images of saints by the wayside did not negotiate with the league of the Gueux ; and again the Prince of Orange and the Counts Egmont and Horn were chosen to act between the contracting parties. The Regent pledged her word that no member of the League should be in any way called to account for the petition presented to the King, in return for this promise of indemnity, which was formally signed and sealed by Margaret, the League promised to give every assistance towards putting down the sacrilegious icono- EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. clasts and restoring tranquillity through- out the provinces. Margaret felt deeply humiliated at . being thus obliged to treat with men whom she looked upon as the op- ponents and enemies of the King's authority ; and in her letters to Philip excused herself by declaring that she had been little better than a prisoner in the capital where she nominally ruled. She was especially bitter against William of Orange, and her complaints were not likely to be passed unheeded by the vin- dictive tyrant to whom they were addressed. For the time, however, the danger was suc- cessfully encountered. The Prince of Orange did good service in putting down the riotous and sacrilegious despoilers of the churches. Some of the ringleaders were hanged, and various punishments inflicted on others, pro- duced a salutary feeling of terror, and put an end to the work of plunder and destruction. Margaret of Parma, too, showed considerable skill and policy in mingling severity towards the most ruthless offenders with conciliation and compromise where these means could answer her purpose. Troops were obtained ; and with forces hastily raised the rebellious town of Valenciennes, and somewhat later Antwerp itself, was reduced to obedience, and it seemed as if peace and tranquilhty would succeed to the troubles that had so long shaken the Netherlands. All depended on the course that should be decided on in Madrid. In the Spanish capital, grave deliberations had been held on the state of things in the Netherlands. In the royal council, several were for a policy of strict justice, and for the removal of grievances, for this would deprive those who persisted in their opposition of all claim to support and sympathy. But the opposing faction, headed by the Duke of Alva, declared that the King would be show- ing culpable weakness by such a course ; that it behoved him first to vindicate his authority, by the unsparing punishment of all who had opposed him, and that afterwards there would be time enough to think of the redress of grievances. This advice was too congenial to the despotic temper of Philip to be rejected ; and in an evil hour for himself the KuigdespatchedAlvato enforce obedience with fire and sword ; and the splendid and wealthy provinces, with their turbulent but warm-hearted and affectionate inhabitants, were at length goaded by the insolence of tyranny and oppression into desperate revolt, The events of that revolt, its vicissitudes and ultimate success, must be told separately. H, W. D. Ghent. 512 The Conspirators at Work. GUY FAWKES: THE STORY OF THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. " Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, The Gunpowder Treason and Plot." Scene in the Tower— Guy Fawkes— His Examination and Hearing— The King's Questions— English Catholics- Origin of the Plot— The Family of Fawkes— Meeting in St. Clement's Danes— Vinegar House— The Mine— The Conspirators— Frank Tresham— The Warning— Check by the King— Checkmate— The Springing of the Mine— Arrest of Guy Fawkes— Run to Earth— The Executions— Search for the Priests— End of the Jesuits— Garnet's last Efforts- Conclusion. In THE Tower of London. T noon, upon a certain early day in November 1605, the inhabitants of the city of London were surprised to see some of the highest nobihty of the land hurrying with anxicus mien to the 513 Tower. But their visit was not unexpected by the Lieutenant of that frowning pile. Sir William Waad was awaiting them ; he met them as they arrived, and these great person- ages passed through to his house directly across the Green. They met in a small I,L EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. apartment, now covered with inscriptions and "plated" with records, — The Powder Plot Room ! This room is a small one, and the window looks upon the Thames. The apartment is constructed curiously upon the wall ; and around it are (or were) certain inscriptions in Latin — one a prayer for "James the Great, King of Great Britain, his Queen and children, and for their protection." Other records are inscribed upon the wall, for this little chamber is the Powder Plot Room, and the great men have hurried from Whitehall to the Tower to examine a prisoner captured in Parliament Place upon the previous evening. The prisoner was Guido Fawkes, his inter- rogators the Secretary of State, the Lord High Admiral, the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and the Lord Privy Seal, — offices holden by men whose names carried with them all the weight of the English nation, viz., Cecil, Earl of Sahsbury, Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham, Charles Blount, Earl of Devon, and Henry Howard, Earl of North- ampton. These noblemen had been instructed to question the man, who had given his name as John Johnson, and his master's as Thomas Percy, but whose identity had been discovered from a letter found upon the prisoner, written by Anne Vaux, of Har- rowden, daughter of Lord Vaux, and whilom of White Webbs, in Enfield Chase, where English Jesuits and English ladies lived under assumed names, and in questionable relationship. Sir William Waad was despatched to bring in the prisoner ; and in a few moments he entered the room and confronted his accusers boldly, — as boldly as he had joked the night before when caught all grimy and black from coal and dust in Parliament Place. This was the man whose name has been handed down to execration by generations as Guy Fawkes. It is with this man and his associates, his aiders and abettors, that we have now to do. Guy Fawkes examined. The prisoner entered calmly, and seemed not alarmed nor dismayed at the reception he had met with, or the fate that impended. He waited boldly and defiantly before the Commissioners. He had played for life or death, and lost the stakes. He was an upright, well-bearing soldier, bronzed and sandy of hue, with grey hair; his appearance — notwithstanding the circumstances in which he was placed — being that of a man of no low lineage. Even Cecil testified to his bearing. "He is no more dismayed," said he, " than if he were taken for a poor robbery upon the highway. The King had set down certain questions, and given certain instructions concerning the examination of the prisoner, "The gentler tortures are to be first used unto him," writes the King, ^^ et sic per gradus ad ima tendatur, and so God speed you in your good work." The good work was not long in beginning, and a number of questions were put to Fawkes. The King's exami- nation was as follows, as written by James himself: — " (i) Quhat he is, for I can neuer yett heare of any man that knowis him ? " (2) Quhaire he uas borne ? " (3) Quhat uaire his parents' names ? " (4) Ouhat aage he is of? " (5) Quhaire he hath lined ? " (6) How he hath lined, and by quhat trade of lyfe ? " (7) How he ressaued those woundes irti his breste ? " (8) If he was euer in seruice with any other before Percie, and quhat they uaire,. and hou long? " (9) Hou came he in Percie's seruice, by quhat meanes, and at quhat tyme ? "(10) Quhat tyme was this house hyred by his maister ? "(11) And hou soone aftir the possessing of it did he begin his deuillishe prepara- tions ? "(12) Quhen and quhaire lernid he to speake frenshe ? "(13) Quhat gentlewoman's lettir it uas that uas found upon him ? " (14) And quairfore doth she giue him ati other name in it than he giues to himself? "(15) If he was euer a Papiste, and if so- quho brocht him up in it ?" Then follows a long list of other questions which the King wished to have put to Guy Fawkes. The prisoner answered them all in the way that suited him best. A great many of his answers were untrue, and others only partially true. Some few were answered truly. But the Commission and the King were not satisfied ; and Sir Edward Coke came down, and soon put Fawkes out of countenance. The rack was hinted at, and then Fawkes, though steadily refusing to bear witness against his accomplices, told the truth concerning himself. He confessed his birth, parentage, and cccupation, of which more hereafter. When he was told that his friends had es- caped, and that the very fact of their attempted flight condemned them, Fawkes said it would be superfluous for him to declare them. But next day we find Sir William Waad, the Lieutenant of the Tower, writing to Lord Salisbury as follows : — " This morning, when Johnson was ready SH GUY FAWKES. (who hath taken such rest this night as a man void of all trouble of mind), I repaired unto him, and told him if he held his resolu- tion of mind to be so silent, he must think that the resolution in the State was as con- stant to proceed with him with that severity which was meet in a case of that conse- quence ; and for my own part I promised that I would never give him over until I had gotten the inward secrets of his thoughts, and all his complices, and therefore I wished him to prepare himself. He confessed he had made both a solemn vow and oath, and received the Sacrament on it, not to disclose it, nor to discover any of his friends. He knew not what torture might do, but other- wise he was resolved to keep his vow." It was evident from this letter* that Sir William Waad was under the impression that Fawkes would betray all he knew ; but next morning the prisoner was as stubborn as ever, and would say nothing. There are sensational and romantic accounts of the tortures to which Fawkes was afterwards subjected ; but though it is probable he was racked to make him divulge the names of his accomplices, we do not find any authority for the statement that he was hung up by his thumb, put upon the "hot-stone," or imprisoned for a night in the horrible pit, the dungeon amongst the rats, which may or may not have been a form of torture applied to refractory prisoners. He probably made acquaintance with the " Scavenger's Daughter'' and the "Little Ease," if the rack failed to extract his information. However, the torture succeeded, and Guido Fawkes made full confession; but he stipu- lated that it must not be in writing. " From the Tower of London, the 9th of November, 1605," Sir William Waad wrote to the Earl of Salisbury, signifying that the prisoner (" my prisoner" the Lieutenant calls him) had " faithfully promised me by narration to dis- cover to your Lordship only all the secrets of his heart, but not to be set down in writing." So the Earl came quickly to the Tower, and in the little "Powder Plot" chamber he obtained a full and complete history of the Gunpowder Treason from the lips of one of the chief conspirators. The words were copied, and subsequently offered to Fawkes to sign. We have now the proof that the man had been tortured. He made an attempt to sign his name; but ere he could complete the signature the pen fell from his nerveless hand, having traced only the Christian name, GuiDO. His first narrative, dated the 8th of No- vember, was added to ; and when his accom- plices were arrested, the whole tale of the memorable Gunpowder Plot was written. * MSS. British Museum. There is one narrative in the Harleian Mis- cellany, dated 1678, to which we are in- debted for some of the circumstances herein set forth. This, with other papers, have been consulted, and now we will piece together the various histories of the Treason. The English Catholics. The Gunpowder Treason has been ascribed to the Roman Catholics as a body, but that statement is not wholly true. No doubt the idea of the plot was first communicated to Catesby by a pupil of Owen the Jesuit, named Morgan, but the conspirators were originally of the Protestant faith. If we examine the records we shall find they were perverts or converts to the Romish Church, and receiving little or no support from the Pope or the high Catholic authorities or from the secular priests. The Jesuits were scarcely in favour of it ; but there can, on the other hand, be no doubt that the English Catholic families had been treated with great severity by Elizabeth. Their houses were searched, and many indignities were put upon them and their families. The Jesuits were driven from house to house, and concealed in secret passages and behind the open chim- neys, and these proceedings enraged them. The Jesuits had been banished by EHza- beth ; and the penalty for entering England was death ; and it was also proclaimed that all persons harbouring priests were guilty of a "capital felony." So all the English Catholics were more or less affected ; and it appears that the families and houses or the conspirators of the "Popish Plot" had all suffered directly or indirectly from the strict Acts of Elizabeth's reign. Even those who had entertained her right royally were not exempted, and some families were ruined by the payment of fines. But the priests were actually driven about in real terror of their lives. The many nar- ratives and romances of the period do not exaggerate the shifts and disguises to which the Jesuits had recourse to avoid discovery and death. There are some old mansions now extant, and there were many more then,, which were full of hiding-places ; and when, the hunted ecclesiastics were warned from one by the faithful spy, they hurried to an- other, like rabbits from hole to hole before the dogs. At Enfield, at Henley, at Erith, near- Woolwich, were houses which sheltered these priests ; and " White Webbs," in Enfield. Chase, is a celebrated instance. James being of Romish descent, the Eng- lish Catholics entertained great hopes that he would favour them on his accession ; but he disappointed them, although after his. proclamation he had made some advances, towards conciUating them, and removed their "recusancy'' fines, and made some 515 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. high and lucrative appointments from their body. But scarcely had he ascended the throne than James changed his opinions, and the Catholics who had been led to expect toleration were hardened into treason by the enactments and the increased severity of the penal laws directed against them. Any pro- mises that James had made were now thrown to the winds, and the English Catholics re- opened negotiations with the court of Spain for placing a Catholic sovereign upon the English throne, and for the embarkation of a Spanish army for the purpose. But the idea fell through, and the discontented and harassed Catholics had to strike out in other directions. The Origin of the Plot. At the close of the year 1601, Thomas Winter, a younger brother of Robert Win- ter, of Huddington, in Worcestershire, was sent over into Spain by the Jesuits Garnet and Tesmond to treat with the King respect- ing the levy of an army to espouse the Catholic cause in England. Thomas Winter was a pretty shrewd fellow ; he had already seen considerable service, and was afterwards employed by Lord Monteagle as secretary, or in some such capacity. He was a Roman Catholic at that time, and related to Catesby and Tresham. He had been variously em- ployed in intrigues, and delighted in them. Such a mission was very acceptable, and the promise of an army was given. But the death of Elizabeth in 1603 put a stop to the negotiation. Wright was at once despatched to Spain, and on his way Christopher met Guy Fawkes, who had been sent by Father Owen from Brussels on the same errand. Fawkes was no stranger to Wright, and when these worthies had been rebuffed by the Spanish monarch, who was treating with the King of England, they returned to- gether. But while Fawkes and Christopher Wright were travelling and plotting abroad, a much more serious project had been set on foot at home. Catesby, a man of very considerable position and influence, was the son of Sir Wil- liam Catesby, a convert of the Romish Church, and a man possessed of large estates in Warwickshire and Northamptonshire. To Robert Catesby, his son, the idea of gun- powder seems first to have occurred as an useful agent in destroying the obnoxious James. By gunpowder they could at one fell stroke demolish James and his associates. Gunpowder had killed Darnley his father ; was it not quite in the fitness of things that powder should destroy the son as easily? The precedent was a good one from the con- spirators' point of view. With soldiers such as they were, to men so well accustomed to the use of powder, and mining, entrenching tools and sub- terranean engineering, the most powerful and secret agent was gunpowder. They were familiar with it, and trusted to its qualities as a sure and swift destroyer which would " leave not a wrack behind." Whether Catesby was the actual originator of the idea is not material. He communicated it to Winter, and boldly stated his intention to blow up Parliament with gunpowder, for " in that place " (Parliament) " they have done us all the mischief." The man named by Catesby as the per- son best calculated to assist them in their design was Guy Fawkes ; and Winter crossed to the Netherlands and brought him back to England " as a fit and resolute man for the execution of the enterprise." As we shall have to mention Guido or Guy Fawkes very often, we must give some particulars con- cerning him : for these we are mainly in- debted to a small volume entitled, " The Fawkes of York." The Family of Fawkes. When interrogated after his apprehension, Guy Fawkes said he had been born in York. He was the son of Edward Fawkes, a notary of York, and the second of four children. He was born on i6th April, 1570. His father died when the children were still young, but " Guye " was educated at York school, which was under Church patronage, and we might conclude that the parents were of the Protestant faith, even if existing evidence did not prove such to be the case. Somehow the young Guye displeased his wealthy uncle ; and when he died he left little to his nephew ; " my golde ring, and my bedde, and one payre of shetes," seem to be all that Thomas Fawkes bequeathed to the lad, though his sisters were well provided for. Mrs. Fawkes had married a second time, and Guye was living with his stepfather at Scotton,v/here he no doubt became acquainted with Percy and the Wrights his relatives. These young men were all very religious ; and they being rigid Catholics it is no wonder that Fawkes went over to their faith. Green- way the Jesuit describes Fawkes as a man of great piety, of exemplary temperance, or a mild and cheerful demeanour, an enemy of broils and disputes, a faithful friend, and remarkable for religious observances. Such a character is not at all what we are accus- tomed to attribute to Guy or Guye Fawkes. The future conspirator and would-be regicide had a little property left him by his father ; but he seems to have left England in 1593, after disposing of his land. He enlisted as a soldier of fortune {i.e. without it) in the Low Counti-ies, and soon obtained a com- mand. As already stated, he accompanied 516 GUY FA WKES. Winter to Madrid in 1601 ; and in 1603 he went with Wright to Philip of Spain. In April 1604, he was serving with the Archduke's army in the Netherlands, and was brought to England by Thomas Winter, according to Robert Gatesby's desire. At this time Fawkes was "about forty-six years of age, though from the whiteness of his head he appeared to be older ; his figure was tall and handsome, his eyes large and lively, and the expression of his countenance pleasing though grave; and, notwithstanding the boldness of his character, his manners were gentle and quiet." * Such was the man who stands forward talking and doing nothing ?" he had said. But Catesby assured him that this time at any rate something was to be attempted, and something done ere long, enough even to satisfy his homicidal tendencies. However, before he entered into particulars, he desired those present to take an oath not to divulge the secret. This oath was administered by Gerard, a Jesuit, and was as follows : — "You shall swear by the Blessed Trinity, and by the Sacrament which you now purpose to receive, never to disclose directly nor indirectly, by word or circumstance, the matter which shall be proposed to you to be kept secret, nor desist from the execution thereof undl the rest shall give you leave." Conspirators' House at Lambeth. most prominently from his fellow-conspirators in the Gunpowder Plot. The Meeting at St. Clement's. Percy had volunteered to assassinate the King, but Catesby was too wary to accept this too zealous assistance. "That would be too dear a purchase when his own life would be hazarded in it." So a meeting was arranged in a small house in Butcher's Row, St. Clement's Danes, between Catesby, Percy, KitWright, Thomas Winter, and Guy Fawkes, in May 1604. Thomas Percy appears to have been im- patient for action. "Are we always to be * Greejiway MSS. This oath was taken, and the Sacrament was then administered to those present ; but it does not appear that the secret of the plot was ever imparted to Gerard the Jesuit. Catesby then made a clean breast of the project, and explained that when Parliament next assembled they would all have their revenge. He explained his design to strike one fatal blow at the Parliament, and destroy the King and his family; "for so long as there were these branches of the Royal Family remaining, to what purpose would it be to make away [with] the King?" The others all concurred ; the blow was to be struck at the Houses of Parliament ; and the means being already decided on, the way alone remained to be considered. 517 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Ihe conspirators then left the house, which had been taken by Catesby for a Mr. "John- son." This Johnson was none other than Guy Fawkes, who had assumed that name when he quitted the Netherlands. He gave out that he was Percy's servant. The upper chamber was the one in which the Sacrament was administered before an extemporized altar. The room underneath was the cne in which the actual disclosure of the secret was nade. All was now ready. But how should they proceed? How could they drive a mine? They must get possession of some tenement close by. Catesby had a house in Lambeth, nearly opposite the Parliament House. If they could only get possession of some place to which they could at once convey the pow- der, and where they could work unperceived, they felt assured of success. Such a tene- ment they found in Vinegar House. "Vinegar House." This " small stone tenement" was situated in Parliament Place, and was a portion of the House of Lords. Underneath Catesby had found there were vaults in which the powder could be stored. But how was the house to be obtained ? Percy undertook to get it ; and this is the way he proceeded to carry out his part. The house was held by a person named Ferris or Ferress, who had been living in Warwickshire, and as a neighbour of Cates- by was known to Bates, his serving-man. This Ferris was under-tenant to Whinneard, or Whinyard, the keeper of the wardrobe, at whose disposal the house was during the intervals between the prorogation and assem- bling of Parliament. There was some diffi- culty attending the possession. The tenant was out of town, and Mrs. Whinyard did not like to proceed in the matter without her husband's consent. But Percy having been formerly about the Court, and not being sus- pected, managed by promises and money to overcome the dame's scruples. She gave up the keys. The house was taken in Percy's name, and Fawkes, as his servant, by the name of Johnson, was to remain in posses- sion. Ferris secured twenty pounds for his under-lease, and a certain payment every quarter was agreed upon. Thus the first step was successful, and as in other and less treasonable matters, " ce liest que le premier pas qui coute." Vinegar House was occupied, and a small place next door, inhabited by "Gibbins, the porter," was to be at Percy's disposal. No suspicion was aroused as Percy, being connected with the Earl of Northumberland, was enabled to declare his comings and goings were all on his business, and were known and approved by him. So far so good, and all promised well. But there was one great difficulty, How were they to convey the powder into the vaults ? A great quantity had been stored at Catesby's house in Lambeth, on the opposite side of the river, and that was in the care of a house- keeper. She must be got rid of. Accord- ingly a creature named Kay or Keyes was chosen to look after the magazine. Here a number of planks and combustibles were concealed, and subsequently transported across the river in the night. No one took any particular notice of the conspirators, and the operations were concluded in safety. A very small space separated them from the vaults under the Houses of Parliament, and preparations were made to begin the mine. But many weeks had elapsed, and sometimes the rumour that the house was required for the Crown threw the conspirators in confusion and alarm. During the intervals the fell purpose of the band was whetted by the treatment experienced in the provinces by the priests and Jesuits, who were con- demned and executed, and Mr. Pound, who ventured to address a protest to the Crown on the subject, was put in the pillory and nearly deprived of his ears. Priest-hunting became quite a pastime, a kind of sport where the game was human, and this recreation was greatly enjoyed by certain officials. In the midst of the conspirators' prepara- tions news came that this government house was required for the purposes of a Committee. There was no time to remove the powder and faggots, the only thing was to leave them covered up and trust that the committee would not think of descending into the cellar. So there day after day the Commission as- sembled until their labours were finished, the members little dreaming that they were sit- ting daily over a mine which might at any moment have blov/n them into eternity. The Mine. As soon as the Commissioners had finished their sittings, the real excavation commenced. Armed and fully equipped, the workers crossed stealthily to the house in Parliament Place one dark December night, and the re- maining arms and implements were con- veyed to their destination. As soon as they arrived. Garnet knelt down and offeredprayer for the success of the undertaking. When this " pious " duty had been performed, the party descended to the cellar and there placed the barrels of powder in as dry a corner as they could find. They were then covered over with wood and coals so that in the event of any sudden investigation the barrels might remain undiscovered. All day the windows were kept closed, and no one went out. The conspirators had pro- vided themselves with hard-boiled eggs, dried 518 GUY FAWKES. meats, and " baked pies," so that there was no necessity for them to leave the house to procm-e food. They were at one time alarmed by an intrusive lad who came over the wall, and this incident, absurd and trivial as it was, greatly terrified them. At night the rest of the working party arrived, and then the mine was commenced in earnest, Christopher Wright being admitted to the confederacy. There were seven employed in the digging and mining ; JFawkes stood sentinel generally, and they all worked with determination until Christmas Eve, discussing their plans when they rested from their labours at intervals. This mining was no child's play. Fav/kes ;and Keyes both threw all their strength into •the task but made little impression upon the scarce yielding stones and mortar. With immense labour one stone was loosened, and then another. The rubbish when removed was buried in the garden at the dead of jiight ; but the necessary secrecy, and the fear of being heard at work, caused them much annoyance and greatly impeded their pro- gress. Notwithstanding that the proceedings had been opened with prayer and the wall sprinkled with holy water, the obdurate stone, as hard as many a human heart, did not yield to the prayers and solicitations of the Church, as represented by Garnet. For three days and nights the men laboured to make the excavation, and at the expira- tion of that time they had dug out a hole sufficient to admit one of their number. They worked in relays, Fawkes keeping watch when his turn for rest came, and by these means some progress was made. The gravel was buried as soon as excavated. One night when they were working as usual, a most mysterious sound was heard. Fawkes is said to have been working at the time ; and when it became evident that the sound was not an echo, he leaped from the hole, and throwing down the pick, declared lie could do no more. At the same time he lield up his hand for silence. Nobody spoke, all listened intensely. Suddenly the tone of a bell, clear and solemn, was heard proceeding apparently from with- in the wall. Its weird tones struck the con- spirators with a superstitious awe. They looked at each other — they were all speech- less for a moment. " Try holy water," said Catesby to Garnet ; ■^'if they be evil spirits that will quell them." The holy water was brought, and the wall and flooring of the vault were sprinkled. The sound ceased, but was again heard. A sub- sequent and copious application of holy water, however, quite quenched it. At any rate it was not heard again for some time. But more serious difficulties awaited them. Though they could not entirely silence the bell they worked continually nearer and nearer to the river. At length the water percolated the soil, and masses fell in, fol- lowed by the water. When they were all considering what this portended, a loud rushing noise was heard, and even as they listened, the roaring and falling as of stones forced itself upon their ears. Garnet im- plored the protection of the saints, and a general feeling of dismay and a conviction of failure came upon the party. Heaven evidently disapproved of their enterprise, and even while they were conversing the terrible roaring came again. They were all greatly alarmed at the con- tinued noise, and looked upon it as a device of the Evil One. But Fawkes, who went out to reconnoitre, made inquiry, and observed that the alarm had proceeded from the vaults overhead (immediately underneath the House of Parliament and the throne), where a sale of coals was proceeding. Here was indeed an opportunity not to be neglected. What was the use of their driving a shaft three yards long through a wall and floor to find only a vault which could be had for purchase ? Great joy was manifested at the turn things were taking. Parliament had been prorogued from the 7th of February, when it had been appointed to assemble, until the 3rd of Octo- ber ; and the conspirators had therefore ample time to mature their plans, and when they had gotten possession of the vaults now vacated, they had only to wait events. Butjhow was the vault to be obtained.'' By universal consent the arrangement was left to Percy. Bright, the late occupier, had disposed of his lease to a person named Skmner, and with this worthy, or rather with Mrs. Whinyard, Percy had to make his bar- gain. In these transactions on behalf of his companions and himself, Percy appears to have appealed to the ladies, and as he bore the character of a gallant in former days, probably he understood the fair sex better than the rest. So this scion of the House of Northumber- land and a pensioner of the King went to Mistress Whinyard, and induced her by liberal offers of money to influence Mrs. Skinner of King Street to part with the lease. She persuaded her husband to do as Mrs. Whinyard requested, and so the vaults were leased for one year to Percy. This accomplished, the conspirators believed them- selves specially favoured by Heaven. While things were thus being got into train, several discussions had taken place respecting their respective friends in the Houses of Parliament. Was it right that acquaintances should be destroyed with the strangers and the hated King 1 There were many in the House of Lords who were staunch Catholics, and to blow them up 519 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. would be inconvenient if not wrong. But no decision was arrived at on this point, and the question remained in abeyance in con- sequence of the difference of opinion that existed. The fate of the Royal Family was then dis- cussed. There was no doubt concerning the fate of the King and Prince Henry, who would be in the House, but Charles they thought would be absent, "for he was but four years old." Percy undertook to take charge of the royal child, and agreed to wait at the cham- ber door until the blow had fallen, and then convey him away. The Lady Elizabeth, who was with Lord and Lady Harrington in War- wickshire, was to be seized by the adherents of the conspirators, who were to organize an ostensible "hunting match " for that purpose. Thus all being prepared, — the powder and faggots and wood having been carried into the vaults underneath the House, which were low and spacious, — the conspirators departed on their several ways to avoid suspicion. The combustibles were covered with coal and stones, and then the cellars were locked up, and the plotters left London till the assembling of Parliament should again aummon them to town. The Conspirators. We have already given some particulars concerning Catesby, Fawkes, and Winter. We may supplement our brief account of them with a few remarks concerning the other chief plotters, as we trace their move- ments until they again returned to Parliament Place. The conspirators had all got themselves out of the way as quickly as possible. Fawkes went abroad to Sir William Stanley and Hugh Owen, carrying with him letters from Garnet to Baldwin the Jesuit in Flanders. Sir William Stanley was not then in the Low Countries, he had gone to Spain ; but when Fawkes communicated his news to Father Owen that dignitary was greatly pleased, and offered to make things smooth with the Pope. Catesby rode home with John Wright. The latter was of Yorkshire fa^nily, but lived in Lincolnshire at that time. He, Winter, and Catesby had been friends for many years, and he was also related by marriage to Thomas Percy, for Wright's sister had married that reckless rake. So well and intimately was he known by Catesby that he was persuaded to leave his own residence and take the old manor-house at Lapworth, in Warwickshire, and thither he, with Winter and Catesby, rode when they left London as aforesaid. The two latter proceeded on to Oxford. At Oxford they enlisted Winter's brother Robert, and one John Grant, whom they had appointed to meet them there. Grant was a Worcestershire squire, and had a nice place at Norbrook ; he assented to the plot, and was sworn in But: Robert Winter ob- jected and declined. He was at length per- suaded, however, and Bates, Catesby's body- servant, was also included. They were now nine in all : Catesby, Percy, two Winters, John and Christopher Wright (both ruined men), Kay, Bates, and Guido Fawkes. But these were not sufficient, neither were the means at their disposal enough to carry them through, and raise adherents. To effect their object they proposed to communicate the plot to anyone likely to join in it, if the disclosure were made in the presence of one already in the secret. Catesby made provi- sion of horses and arms and ammunition, and when he found money getting low he made an appointment to meet Percy at Bath, where the latter was undergoing a course of the waters. These worthies talked over their plans respecting the disposal of the royal children ; and it was also decided that cer- tain Catholic gentlemen should be invited to join the plot. These were Sir Everard Digby, Ambrose Rookwood, and Francis Tresham, a relative of Catesby, and brother- in-law of Lord Monteagle, who had married Tresham's sister. Sir Everard Digby was a very wealthy man, possessed of large estates. He was very enthusiastic, and a great friend of Robert Catesby. Ambrose Rookwood, of Coldham Hall, in Suffolk, was the head of a very ancient family. One great advantage he possessed in the eyes of the conspirators, he had a magnificent stud of horses, which would be very useful to them as mounts for their men, or as relays if pursuit were made. Rookwood required some persuasion to unite with the fanatics, but he yielded to Catesby's arguments and powers of guidance. He accordingly removed his family to Clapton, near Stratford, in order that he might be near his leading spirit. Notwithstanding that he, like many others, had suffered fines and persecutions, he had ample means. Francis Tresham was the third addition to the party. His father. Sir Thomas Tresham, had been severely punished under the penal laws of Elizabeth, and the Star Chamber had held him in its grip. He said he had undergone twenty years of restless adversity and deep disgrace only for testimony of his conscience. Francis Tresham had been mixed up with the revolt of the Earl of Essex, and narrowly escaped with his head. A heavy bribe to, and all the influence that could be brought to bear upon, a "very great lady," were the means whereby Sir Thomas released his son. Tresham's personal character is not a high one. He engaged in many plots, but never 520 GUY FAWKES. The Arrest of Guy A'awkes. 521 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. commanded or enjoyed the confidence of his fellow-conspirators. In the case under con- sideration Catesby repented of his confidence with Tresham very quickly, and became a prey to alarm and misgiving in consequence. But about this time the intelligence that Parliament had been again prorogued gave rise to some anxiety in their minds. So anxious were they, that Winter, who was one of the household of Lord Monteagle, made an endeavour to ascertain whether any suspicion existed in the minds of the Lords commis- sioned to prorogue Parliament. But no .anxiety was evident ; all was reported well. Money was promised by Tresham ; but when ■Catesby studied him more closely he repented that he had ever entrusted the secret to such a vacillating character. Sir Everard Digby advanced fifteen hundred and Tresham con- tributed two thousand pounds. The conspirators agreed to assemble in London at the end of October, and when a rumour arose that Prince Henry would very Jikely be absent from the ceremony, a plan was devised to carry him off. The old diffi- culty again also arose about the destruction of the Catholic Lords, and Catesby appears to have had some scruples on the subject which he communicated to Garnet, but the Jesuit over-ruled the plotter's objections. Still others were anxious. Tresham wanted to save Lords Monteagle and Stourton, his brothers-in-law ; Kay objected to blowing up Lord Mordaunt; and Fawkes had friends in the House. Percy, too, adv-anced his claim ; h)ut Catesby, now reassured, sneered at these suggestions and combated his friends warmly ; he declared he had himself already endea- voured to dissuade some, and did not think •others named would attend at all at the opening of Parliament. But it was resolved that indirectly their relations should be dis- suaded, in general terms if practicable. This arrangement did not suit Tresham at all. He determined to warn Lord Monteagle, and the manner in which he set about it will now be related. The Warning. As October drew towards its close some of the conspirators met and had frequent con- sultations at White Webbs. The final arrangements for the firing of the mine were made. Guy Fawkes undertook to do this Avith a slow match, and a boat had been hired to lie in wait close by to carry him to a ship which Tresham's money had procured. It was here that Tresham appeared and demanded security for his relative Lord Monteagle. Catesby hesitated ; and Tresham said that they had better defer the execution of their design till Parliament had ended their labours. He declared he could not furnish the money required, and thought the interval should be passed in Flanders. But the seniors would not alter one iota in their plans. Fawkes and Catesby had made all the arrangements, and were not men to swerve from their determination. There can be little doubt that many people were warned of the impending blow to be struck at the Parliament, though in such a way that no real clue was obtained by them. But the Government, or rather Cecil, was perfectly well aware of all the circumstances, and we may conclude that Tresham was also cognisant of the knowledge possessed by the Secretary of State. Tuesday, November the 5th, was the day upon which Parliament had been summoned to meet, and all the conspirators — except Percy, who was in the country ; and Catesby, who remained at White Webbs — were in London. Fawkes was at Butcher's Row, biding his time with grim determination. The others were in lodgings in various parts — at Lambeth, at Clerkenwell, or in St. Giles' Fields, waiting for the signal. Lord Monteagle was at Southwark, but upon the afternoon of Saturday, October the 26th, he, without apparent reason, suddenly determined to ride up to Hoxton, where he had a residence as well as his house in Montague Close, where Winter was also domesticated. He did not often go out to Hoxton, but that evening he took with him an attendant named Ward, a friend of Winter, who was cognisant of the plot. With him Lord Monteagle sat down to supper, and nothing worthy of comment occurred until the meal was nearly over. As Monteagle was finishing his supper, a page arrived and desired to see his lord- ship immediately. He was admitted, and handed his master a note which he declared had been given to him in a most mysterious manner. " As I was coming by the lane just now," he said, "a man muffled in a cloak came suddenly forth, and demanding if I were one of your lordship's servants, handed me this letter, enjoining me as I valued my existence to deliver it to your lordship without delay." Lord Monteagle took little notice of the epistle. His assumed indifference might have imposed upon his servants, but he was evidently conscious of the contents. Toss- ing the note to Ward, he desired him to read it aloud. The letter had neither date nor signature, and was written in a feigned hand, as follows :* — " My lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends I have a care for your preser- vation, therefore I would advise you as you * A fac-simile of the letter is now before the writer. 522 GUY FAWKES. tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift from your attendance at this Parlia- ment, for God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. Think not slightingly of this advice, but retire into the country, where }'0u may expect the'event in safety ; for though there be no appearance of any stir, they will receive a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not know who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned. It may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is past as soon as you have burnt the letter. God, I hope, will give you grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you." " A singular letter ! " exclaimed Mont- eagle, when he had heard it. He then pre- tended to take counsel from his attendants, most of whom had heard it read. The mystery that surrounded the affair was not lessened when Monteagle called for his horse and rode into London, going direct to Whitehall with the mysterious document in his pocket. It is a disputed point as to who wrote the letter, and the authorship of this celebrated epistle has been attributed to many men — even to women ; but all probability points to Tresham himself as the dictator, if not the actual penman, of the warning note. But at any rate Monteagle, who was on good terms with all the Court, proceeded immediately to the Secretary of State. Check. It was past two o'clock at night when the apparently alarmed and anxious peer dis- mounted at Whitehall Yard and desired to see Cecil in his private chamber, if the Secretary of State had not retired to rest. Salisbury had not retired ; quite the con- trary, he had a small reception in his apartments. By the most curious coinci- dence in the world, several noble and Catholic lords had been supping with Cecil, and they had not yet left him. This was extremely fortunate ; and as the attendants were not aware that the whole thing had been planned and rehearsed beforehand, they looked upon it with awe and fearful appre- hension. The Earl of Salisbury pretended to be greatly alarmed at the intelligence which was communicated to the guests, such men as Suffolk, Northampton, and Worcester, who were discreet members of the Council, and could be trusted to keep the secret of the affair which had been cleverly brought about by Salisbury. The King was at Royston, " hunting the fearful hare," and under these circumstances the Friends in Council deter- mined to remain silent until their sovereign's return. On Sunday morning the man who had read the letter at Lord Monteagle's house went and warned Thomas Winter that the note had been put in the possession of the Secretary of State. But the conspirators were not alai'med. The Government were proceeding with extreme caution, and work- ing up for a dramatic finish to the farce of the Gunpowder Plot. Salisbury could at any moment have put, his hand upon the men, but he preferred to make a sensation, and so he bided his time. Ward, Monteagle's attendant, probably urged by his master, went to Winter early upon Sunday and begged him to warn Catesby and fly the country. Winter, be it remembered, was at Montague Close, which was Monteagle's residence in Southwark, and he left it to see Wright and Oldcorne, and tell them the news. They all hurried down to Enfield Chase, and found Catesby at White Webbs. He was almost upset by the intelligence, but endeavoured to put a bold face upon the circumstances, though full of the most intense anxiety. The advice so honestly sent by Monteagle was not acted upon. Catesby professed to, if he did not, believe in the success of his schemes. He could scarcely constrain him- self to realize the fact that his pet project, the great design which had been so carefully kept, could have been betrayed, much less discovered by such a man as Robert Cecil, for whose abilities the chief conspi- rator professed a supreme contempt. But Cecil was an adversary not to be despised. He was only playing with Catesby and his confederates as a cat plays with a mouse. He could at any moment dart at them, seize them, destroy them. However, Catesby determined to proceed, and Guy Fawkes was equally firm in his resolve to fire the mine. No stir was apparent, though instructions for the search of the vaults were being issued to Cecil's most trusty creatures. Fawkes went up to Westminster to make an examination of the fastenings and marks. He can-ied out this dangerous duty on the Wednesday, and found all secure; and upon that day, the 30th of October, a meeting was held at White Webbs, where Fawkes attended to report that all was quiet at Parliament Place, and no signs of any disturbance could be perceived. At this meeting Catesby and Winter boldly charged Tresham with perfidy, and de- clared he had betrayed them all to Mont- eagle. Tresham swore the accusation was base- less. ''It is false," he cried; "I have only just been made acquainted with the facts, and have com.e hither to warn you." " Why did you leave us in that secret manner?" demanded Catesby, pointedly. But Tresham was furnished with answers 523 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and excuses of so very plausible a nature, and displayed such apparent frankness, the excess of which was in itself suspicious, that the fears of his comrades were allayed, though they distrusted him. He was so bold and apparently fearless that he — though narrowly — escaped death at Fawkes' hands. After a consultation, pending the result of which Tresham must have suffered exquisite mental torture, the plotters suffered him to depart, he declaring that the enterprise had failed. On the next day, Thursday, 31st of Octo- ber, James arrived in London from Royston, and the mysterious letter was laid before him and the Privy Council by Salisbury, who called his attention to the words "a terrible blow," which the astute statesman emphasized so as to give the King the idea of gunpowder without exactly telling him the nature of the plot. James rose to the bait like any jack ; he seized the line, and at once took the idea. " I should not wonder if these mischievous Papists mean to blow us all up with gun- powder," said the sagacious monarch. At this remark Salisbury declared that " His Majesty must have received an inspi- ration from heaven." Such an idea had never occurred to him (Salisbury) ; and the wily minister flattered the monarch to the top of his bent. Although all the circumstances had been well known to the Council for days, the noblemen united in praising the wisdom of the King, and the sharpness of the royal nose which could scent powder in Parliament Place. "Where does Your Majesty think gun- powder may be hidden ? " asked the Secre- tary deferentially, as one who addresses a superior intellect. "Are there any vaults beneath the House ? Gude guide us ! " ejaculated James, " we have walked over the mine ! " This important clue having been given to the men who had given His penetrative Majesty the original idea, the delight of the Council at the King's sagacity was almost unbounded. James rose in importance, and acquiesced in Salisbury's suggestions (which he was about to make himself !) that the denouement should be postponed till the eve of the meeting of Parliament. The discovery was entirely attributed to the King, and Coke, at the trial of the con- spirators, held up His Majesty as an example, and a medium of divine illumination. So James was regarded as the special mouth- piece of an offended Deity who inspired him to the discovery. Checkmate. j November came, and nothing had occurred I to alarm the conspirators afresh. Tresham | 524 had promised a sum of two hundred pounds to Catesby to purchase arms, and paid half of it to Winter on the Friday ; but when the remainder was demanded, the vacillating conspirator agreed to pay, in the hope that Catesby would meanwhile escape with the money already received. Tresham and Winter met next night in Lincoln's Inn Walk, and then the former disclosed many things indirectly. He de- clared they v/ere all well known, and that the plot was an utter failure. It were better that the conspirators should fly and take their chances abroad. There was a boat in the river, let them take his vessel so that they only saved themselves ! This importunity did not escape the pene-. trating Catesby. He was now assured that Tresham was in communication with the Secretary of State, and knew what steps were to be taken, and yet he determined to remain and see what the next day would bring forth. Fawkes, with the stern deter- mination of his character, made up his mind to remain in Parliament Place, and if need be, to die at his voluntarily assumed post of danger. On Sunday morning, November 3rd, Ward, Lord Monteagle's attendant, again called upon Winter, and gave him very serious in- telligence : the King had seen the mysterious letter, and had penetrated its meaning ap- parently, but the result of his cogitations had only been communicated to the Privy Council. The man also added that search was to be made beneath the vaults of the Houses of Parliament, particularly in the cellar underneath the throne, and if any- thing were there hidden it would be surely discovered ! This was plain enough, and one would have thought that the conspirators would have profited by the intelligence and the hints thus vouchsafed to them. But nothing appeared to move Catesby. Incapable of fear, he either scorned the danger or did not credit its existence. Although Winter hurried away to White Webbs with the news, Catesby would not stir. Let them search ! They would find nothing if only Guy Fawkes were there to put them off the scent. Unfor- tunately for himself Catesby did not understand that the net had been woven around him by a hand more cunning than his own, and that the meshes could be drawn at any moment. Percy, too, who came up, was in favour of waiting one day more, the last day of doubt and bitterness, to lead up to so many more of danger and distress. Fawkes was still at Vinegar House ; nothing could have happened. No search had been made by the Court, and the '' I told you so" feeling was uppermost in the mind of Catesby. In thirty hours all GUY FAWKES. would be over — the King dead and the con- spirators triumphant. And Fawkes, too, resolute as ever, kept watch and ward in the vault, provided with a time-piece, which, set truly, would tell him when to fire the mine. The Wrights and Catesby rode away to join Sir Everard Digby at Dunchurch ; Winter remained with Monteagle ; Percy dined at Sion House with his august relative ; Rook- wood had his relays ready — five horses saddled, and equal to any emergency. And so on that Monday afternoon the conspi- rators separated, to await the springing of the mine on the morrow, in doubt and in fear. The Mine is Sprung. And the mine was ready ; not only the gunpowder and the faggots in the vaults, but the mine prepared by Salisbury, and towards which he had been leading the blinded con- spirators. His time had come ! Monday afternoon, November 4th, 1605, saw the conspirators dispersed to wait the fatal 5th; and in the course of the day, while it was yet light, Suffolk, the Lord Chamber- lain, whose duty it was to see all the arrange- ments for the meeting of Parliament properly carried out, came, accompanied by Lord Monteagle, to the House. They examined and inspected the chamber, and thence they proceeded, " as a matter of form " no doubt, to see that all was right underneath the Par- liament House. The two noblemen came with a light excuse, quite unattended, laughing and talk- ing as they proceeded from cellar to vault, and to inner vaults, till they reached the part immediately beneath the throne. Fawkes was present, and the Chamberlain carelessly inquired who he was, and his business. "I am Mr. Percy's servant," replied Fawkes, " and am looking after my master's coals ; " when Suffolk caused a smile by a remark concerning Christmas fires and timely preparation. Nothing could be plea- santer ; there was no suspicion ; the merry gentlemen saw nothing, suspected nothing, brought no guard to effect an arrest, and all was well. Fawkes was a judge of faces, and watched his visitors narrowly, but no trace of fear, no shade of suspicion crossed their features. The time was almost come. The dreaded search had been made and was over. All was well ! Fawkes could not restrain his impatience, and in his satisfaction at the result he at once rode to Isleworth to tell Percy what had occurred, and how well their plans had succeeded. This so affected Percy that he came away from Sion House with Fawkes, and accompanied him to London. Fawkes bade him farewell in Westminster, and descended to the vault. Percy rode to St. Giles' Fields and told Rookwood and Kay that all was well, and the deed would be done upon the morrow. The hours passed — ten o'clock struck. Surely there would be something stirring at Westminster if there were any suspicion. So excited and restless were the men that they left their hiding-place in the darkness of the night and hurried down to Westminster to see what was going on. Nothing ! All was quiet and still as the grave in which they hoped the King would, in a few hours, be lying. Not a sound of preparation broke the stillness. The royal residence was slumbering ; all lights were extinguished ; no sign of alarm or suspected danger. The three conspirators breathed more freely, though with quivering lips ; and as quietly as they had paced the deserted roads, they returned again to their lodgings to sleep, and then to listen for the terrible explosion which they hoped, yet feared, would come next day. While they were sleeping, tossing restlessly from side to side with muttered thoughts of the expected tragedy escaping in their dreams, Guy Fawkes was acting and wide awake. He had made all his sinister pre- parations — the watch was wound up, the lanthorn lighted, the train laid. Fully aware of the desperate nature of the attempt, Fawkes, booted and spurred, was ready for flight by land or by water if the boat were at the stairs. The vault was close and warm even that wintry morning, and about two o'clock Fawkes left the inner chamber and came into the further room. He ascended the stairs to pass into Vinegar House, where were the porter and Robartes the priest. He came slowly forth ; all was quiet. He advanced more cautiously, and reached the court, when he was suddenly seized and bound. " What are you doing here ? " demanded Sir Thomas Knyvett, a magistrate of West- minster. " Had you but taken me inside," was the bold reply, " I would have blown you all up with the house and myself." Sir Thomas directed the prisoner to be searched at once, and found tinder, slow match, and some " touch "-wood on his per- son ; the lanthorn was lighted in the vault, and the top of a barrel of powder was stove in ; the train was ready, — but Salisbury had sprung his mine first. The prisoner was taken, i.nd then carried to the King at Whiteitall, to be interrogated by His Majesty in Council. Thus while Catesby and his friends were quietly riding to Ashby, their luckless ac- complice was cursing his fate on his . straw pallet in the Tower. 525 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Run to Earth. Fawkes declined to reveal anything more than what concerned himself. In reply to the King, he confessed his object and the means he had taken to attain it. When asked how he had the heart to destroy the Sovereign and his children, the bold man replied that " Dangerous diseases required desperate remedies," and told the Scottish courtiers he wanted to have "blown them all back to Scotland!" Such hardihood appeared in- credible to the King, and Fawkes was quickly removed to the Tower. Early in the morning of the 5th of Novem- ber, a report ran like wildfire through the city that a man had been arrested in the vault beneath the Parliament House, with a dark lantern. The gunpowder which had been discovered put aside all doubt as to his object, and public indignation was aroused with public curiosity. The rumour reached St. Giles's Fields and its occupants, who were greatly stirred, and the three conspirators hurried away to find that all was known, and that flight was only possible. Percy and Wright immediately fled ; the former, who had made his arrangements, now found the benefit of his foresight, and they journeyed to Fenny Stratford unharmed, while Cecil's messengers were seeking them in other roads. Here they met the others, who were also flying for their lives ; Catesby and John Wright having only heard the news from Rookwood, who had come fast with his relays. The friends then proceeded through Dunstable, and thence to Towcester, and to Ashby St. Leger, where Lady Catesby resided. It was six o'clock in the evening when the dusty and travel-stained troop entered the house where many members of the great "hunting party" which had been convened had already assembled at supper. The new- comers did not take long to acquaint them of the failure of the enterprise, which their condition and presence so fully endorsed. "To horse!" was still the cry, and accom- panied by many members of the party, the fugitives rode to Dunchurch to Sir Everard Digby. But cool air and cooler reflection rapidly thinned the ranks of the adherents. All was lost; there was no hope for those who resisted ; and in the darkness many a horseman drew rein and turned aside for home to wait events. Kay had long ago quitted his friends and made for his home, where he was afterwards captured. Arrived at Dunchurch, the dread news was received in silence, and a deep gloom fell upon those assembled there. The result was that many fell away notwithstanding the determination of Catesby; and on the morrow a small but desperate band continued their headlong flight to Leamington Priors, where they rested and attempted to recruit their band, but without success. Men looked upon them with suspicion, and resented the manner in which they sought to appropriate arms and steeds. Thus they raised up opposition instead of making friends. They proceeded across Warwickshire and Worcestershire, and made for the residence of Stephen Littleton at Holbeach, after en- listing a few adherents at Norbrook where Grant resided. As they proceeded they called upon the country people to take up arms and join them, but not one man did so. Whatever idea the people had respecting a change of ruler, the condition of the con- spirators was not one to inspire much confi- dence in any one just then. Sir Richard Walsh was by this time upon their track ; and without attempting further flight the conspirators and their adherents awaited the arrival of the troops at Holbeach, determined to defend it. But Littleton left his house, and during the night many servants stole away also. On the morrow, after much consultation, Sir Everard Digby quitted his friends to procure assistance, and Catesby made preparations for defence. ' They had been harassed across the Stour by the royahst troopers, and the arms and ammunition had got wetted. The powder was most valuable to them, and Catesby pro- ceeded to dry it by the fire, in the hall, on a platter. A large bag of gunpowder was also left, at a safe distance as was conjectured, while Catesby pursued his dangerous task. Percy watched this proceeding, and ex- pressed a wish respecting its effects — that the powder would prove more destructive than the quantity stored beneath the Parliament House, and Catesby joked grimly upon the subject as he continued his work. The others had scarcely quitted the hall when a tremen- dous explosion occurred. A coal had shot from the fire, and the powder had exploded, though the large bag had been blown bodily through the roof uninjured. Four of the men, Catesby, Rookwood, Percy, and Grant, were hideously wounded and burnt, but staunch to the last. The attack began in the forenoon, and pro- ceeded with spirit. Robert Winter and Bates escaped early in the morning. Tom Winter was quickly disabled by the assailants. The sheriff directed some of his men to fire the house, and the rest to attack on the opposite side ; and thus the fight proceeded. "Stand by me, Tom," cried Catesby, "and we'll die together." As they were standing back to back they were shot through, and fell side by side. Catesby crawled into the vestibule and expired, embracing an image of. the Virgin. The Wrights were also shot 526 GUY FAWKES. dead; Rookwood and Percy were severely- wounded. Digby was afterwards captured near Dudley, and the others were betrayed in their hiding-places. The wounded in the house died miserably; and within a week all the plotters, except the priests, were dead or in the Tower of London, where Guy Fawkes had already confessed his crime. Torture and Confession. The Government made every effort to get at the truth by question, rack, and pressure ; but although much was said, there was a great difficulty in sifting the chaff from the grain. What was said one day was contra- dicted or explained away the next, and every- one concerned in the plot seemed quite oblivious or incapable of speaking "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." The determination of the Secretary of State had almost given way under the repeated disappointments, but through Tresham a clue was at length obtained to the priestly adherents of the plot. Tresham, though he was implicated by the tardy confession of Guy Fawkes, was not arrested for some days after the public an- nouncement of the discovery of the plot. But at length Master Frank, a past master in the art of duplicity and Jesuitical cunning, was committed to the Tower, and told all he thought it worth while to tell. Monteagle's name was frequently mentioned, but it was not the intention of the Secretary of State to impeach his colleague. From Tresham and Winter information was received concerning Garnet, Gerard, and Oldcorne, and more definite action was taken when the servant Bates had been per- suaded, with more or less force, to reveal all he knew. His information was very useful, and the priests Garnet and Oldcorne, who were at Hendlip, were sought for. Mean- time Tresham was suddenly taken ill after his confession. Romancers tell us that Monteagle visited the unhappy man in the Tower, and with the connivance of the gaoler, poison was administered to " Cousin Frank," who died from the slow effects. Be that as it may, there is no doubt that after his com- mittal and confession he was taken ill and died in the Tower in great agony. Finding the hand of death press closely upon him, his wife and confidential servant were sought and permitted to visit him. In their presence he made and signed a statement contradict- ing all he had said about the Jesuit priests. Tresham signed this document, and had it attested by Vavasour, his servant. Frank died that same night, leaving the document, which was entirely untrue, and which had been written by the servant, to the care of his wife for the information of the Council. The Executions ; Search for the Jesuits. On the 15th of January, 1606, a proclama- tion was issued against the English Jesuits,, and pending their arrest the trial of the sur- viving lay members of the Gunpowder Plot had been postponed. But on the 27th of January, the Spaniards having declined to deliver up those Jesuits in their dominions who had been implicated, the conspirators were arraigned. Their trial did not last long, nor was any mercy shown them. On the 30th of January, Sir Everard Digby, Robert Winter, Grant, and Thomas Bates, were hanged at Paul's Cross. Guy Fawkes, Kay,. Rookwood, and Thomas Winter were hanged, drawn, and quartered in Palace Yard, West- minster. But for ^ the presence of a strong armed force the conspirators would have been dragged from the ignominious hurdles and torn to pieces by the crowd. Digby was the first to suffer, and kneeling down he desired the prayers of all good Catholics. " Then none will pray for you," remarked an individual in the crowd as the young man was launched into eternity. Robert Winter came next, and he ascended the blood-stained scaffold. The executioner's assistants had already dismembered his late associate, but Winter remained firm and died defiantly. Grant and Bates were soon despatched ; but the crowning tragedy was enacted in Old Palace Yard on the 31st of January. Every available position which commanded a view of the scaffold was occupied. The Abbey roof was crowded with spectators, the pinnacles and buttresses black with clinging- figures. Thomas Winter was the first to ascend the scaffold and die firmly. Rook- wood and Kay came next. The latter threw himself off with such violence that the rope broke, and he was despatched like a dog. Guy Fawkes, the stern soldier, was the last of all. As this brave but misguided man ascended the steps of the scaffold his firm foot slipped upon the bloody surface, and had he not been supported he must have fallen. He ascended deliberately and then turning to the multitude, said : " I ask forgiveness of the King and the State for my criminal inten- tion, and trust that my death will wash out my offence." He then ascended the drop, and ere his heart had ceased to beat, his quivering frame was cut down and hacked to pieces by the savage knives of the execu- tioners. While the conspirators were being led tc^ execution, the search for Garnet and Oldcorne had been busy and unremitting. The other Jesuits had escaped, and the pair might easily have got away in safety. But they 7 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. preferred to play the old game of hide-and- seek, and at Hendlip Hall they found an asylum. Like many other old mansions, Mr. Abingdon's house was a perfect " rabbit warren" of passages and hiding-places. Secret stairs and panels, holes and corners, abounded. Wide chimneys with duplicate flues, and cunning recesses for priest or plotter were in many rooms, while hollow walls and fissured wainscots were general. To such a house the Jesuits were glad to retreat and hide. But Sir Henry Bromley had orders to track them out, and to Hendlip came he in due course and suddenly, to search the house. He surrounded it closely and then proceeded to examine the interior. From room to room he sounded the walls, and discovered many a secret passage and hidden panel. Measurements were made inside and out ; and so suddenly had Bromley come upon the Hall that no provisions had been stored in the recesses for the priests. But no success at first attended the Knight's efforts. Day after day passed and no real discovery was made, though all evidence tended to confirm suspicion that the men were there. At last one night, towards the witching hour, two ghostly figures appeared to the guard in the hall of the mansion. These were the priests' servants, Owen and Cham- bers, who had had no food for two or three days. Gaunt, grimy, and hollow-eyed, they tottered along, and surrendered themselves to Bromley's men, but would confess nothing — not whence they came nor who they were. Mr. Abingdon and his wife were at once put under arrest by Sir Henry Bromley, and every exertion was made to ascertain the hiding-place of the priests, for no doubt existed in Bromley's mind now. They were sought for, but unsuccessfully, and at last even Sir Henry lost patience and issued orders for retiring. But soon afterwards, acting on informa- tion of a condemned prisoner, Garnet and Oldcorne were found in the recess of a chimney, cramped and starving. They were carefully tended — as fowls are fed for killing — and brought to London and the Tower. The Jesuits' End. On the 13th of February the Jesuit priests were confronted by the Council at White- hall, and Garnet was received with all the " treacherous courtesy " he had already enjoyed as he was being conducted to London. A good impression was left upon the priest's mind, though he was closely questioned. His cell at the Tower was changed for a better, and, as he subsequently said in a letter to Ann Vaux, whose reputation he had so seriously compromised, " I am allowed every meal a good draught of excellent claret wine, and I am liberal with myself and neighbours for good respects, to allow also out of my own purse some sack, and this is the greatest charge I shall be at." But before long this interesting correspon- dence came to an end. Cecil questioned and received many damaging answers from the Jesuit leader, and before very long Mistress Vaux was herself committed to the Tower as a participator in the Gunpowder Treason. By this time nearly all the English Jesuits had been arrested and put in the Tower; and the kind Lieutenant was so obliging as to put Garnet and Oldcorne into adjacent rooms, and caused a communication to be shown to them by means of which they could quietly con- verse when the warders were out of the way. This was an opportunity not to be neglected. The Jesuits held many interesting conversa- tions through the panel, curiously oblivious of the danger they incurred. The craft of Cecil does not appear to have been suspected by either, but spies were so placed that the dialogue was heard and transmitted to the Secretary of State. These conversations tended to clear up much that had been before obscure. Ann Vaux was closely questioned, but nothing against the Jesuits could be ob- tained from her. The queer, if not unusual, relationships lately existent at White Webbs, and the meetings of the plotters there, were disclosed by the dame ; and then Cecil sent for the priests, and told them he was well aware of their conversation through the panels. This was too much for Oldcorne ; he con- fessed his share in the dialogue, and added various other words which proved very in- jurious to him and his associates. Garnet, on the contrary, firmly denied the facts until threatened with torture, when he confessed, and was ordered for trial in March 1606. When Garnet had confessed it was of no use to keep Oldcorne any longer in prison. He was therefore sent to Worcester with Mr. Abingdon of Hendhp to be tried before a special Commissioner. Mr. Abingdon was pardoned, and yet Lord Monteagle, with the priest Oldcorne and others, were executed. Gerard had esc3.ped. A volume might be written concerning Garnet's latter days, his correspondence with Ann Vaux, whose character he defended at the last, and his interviews with Cecil. By degrees, as we have seen, enough was found to criminate him, and by means of spies and such devices, proof was adduced against all the priests. Henry Garnet was then con- demned and executed. So the active principle of the terrible plot died out, and there remain but a reproach and a by-word and a doggerel rhyme, to bring prominently before us the great " Gunpowder Treason, which should never be forgot." H. F. 528 The Spanish Armada attacked by the English Fleet. (From the Ancient Tapestry in the House of Lords, destroyed in the Fire at the Houses of Parliavient in 1834.; HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND, THE STORY OF THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. A Nightof Suspense-England's Hour of Trial-The Growth of the Bitter Feehngs between England and Spa.n-The Policy ^f the Vatican-" Singeing the King of Spain's Beards-Drakes Expeditions at Cadp and Corunna-Pla^ng at Peace-making-Hand in Hand for England-The Spanish Scheme-The First Day s Fighting-The Fight off Poit- land; Plucking the Feathers of the Spaniards one by one-Correspondence between ^ledina Sidonia and Parma- The Fire^Ships-The Action off Gravelines-The Flight through the Straits-Home round the Orkneys ! -The Western Storms— The Return to Spain. A Night of Suspense. HE long, hot summer day was draw- ing to a close, and the level beams of the setting sun were lighting up with resplendent beauty the dancing waters of Plymouth Sound, when suddenly a small armed vessel, with all sails set, ran smartly in from the Channel, before the wind. A few minutes more, and down rattled her canvas, the anchor was thrown out, and the vessel's head swung round. Another minute passed and her captain sprang ashore, and quickly made his way to the bowling-green on the Hoe, where a group of officers and sea-captains were engaged in the old English game of bowls. Seeking out one of the officers who from his appearance seemed to be a person of some distinction, and who, in fact, was none other than Lord Howard of Effingham, High Admiral of England, the new-comer exclaimed excitedly, — "My Lord, the Spaniards are upon us ! I saw the Armada this morning off the Cornish coast, and I have cracked on all sail to let your Lordship know in time." Instantly there arose shouts for the ships' boats, and some of the captains hurried away to the water ; signs of excitement and haste began to manifest themselves on every side ; but there was one there, holding a large ball in his hand, who coolly checked the excite- ment of his colleagues, and insisted that the match should be played out. " There is time to beat both you and the Spaniards too," he said. A hearty laugh was the response, and then Drake (for the last speaker was that famous captain) and his friends played out their game as coolly as though the invading Spanish ships were thousands of miles away. But while they were concluding their game, the news of the Spaniards' arrival had spread far and wide. Fire-signals, ready to burst S29 M M EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. forth into lurid flame, had been prepared on every eminence, and one by one the hill tops blazed forth into beacons of warning, sym- bolical, indeed, of the sturdy English spirit which leapt forth to meet the invader. In every southern seaport, ships and boats were on the watch, and in every shire and city, horses and men were waiting ready to fight for hearth and home. A great camp had been formed at Tilbury to guard London, and from every side troops were pouring in to swell the numbers already gathered there. Thus, when the warning light shone out, it found England well pre- pared. Meantime Drake and his companions on the Hoe finished their game and went on board their vessels. The wind was dead against them, therefore they were obliged to warp the ships laboriously out of harbour ; they stood westward under easy sail, waiting for the Spaniards to appear. But though the wind was in the Spaniards' favour, the vessels of the Armada were so huge and vmwieldy that they made but little progress, and it was not until the night of suspense had passed, and the July sunlight of the next morning gUnted on the glad waters of the Channel, that the huge fleet hove in sight. It appeared like a crescent seven miles wide, and the vast vessels seemed more like floating castles than ships of war. First of all, two white wings were visible, clearly defined against the western sky ; then by degrees, as the day wore on, others loomed above the line of the sea, un- til the broad crescent was complete ; and as the high hulls appeared, the keen-eyed watchers could count at least one hundred and fifty invading vessels. On they swept, those magnificent ships, slowly and proudly, and perchance they did not see those few light vessels, closely hugging the shore, which were lying in wait for them, and ready to pounce upon them at the first opportunity, even as the lithe-limbed tiger springs upon his prey. So passed Saturday the 20th of July, 1588, and another night drew on. England's Hour of Trial. The news of the presence of the Spanish ships in the English Channel was now known over the greater part of the island. The blaze of many beacons and the tidings taken by mounted messengers had told most Englishmen that their country's hour of trial had come. We can well imagine the feelings of many a family, at that time hidden in the depths of the country. They had seen the warning fires flash along the lonely hills for many a mile, and mayhap the father, husband, or son had gone days before to join the masses of troops then being mar- shalled throughout the land. But the summer sun would rise and set many times before these poor people would know more of the stirring events then happening round their coasts. Through the long, hot days they would sit and think of those who were gone, and wonder what had befallen them ; whether the Spaniards were victorious, and " Good Queen Bess " was to yield her power to the hated Philip, and they themselves were to bow their necks to the conqueror's yoke and suffer all the horrors of a vanquished people; whether these fields, which now waved white with harvest, were to feed the haughty Spaniards ; and their lands, which now smiled with the rich beauty of summer, were to be stained with bloodshed and burn- ing ; — all these things doubtless passed through the 'minds of those who, silent and inactive, had to pass those sunUl: summer days in the agonies of suspense, not knowing from hour to hour what might, or had already happened for their country's weal or woe. It was the crucial moment of a long period of suspense. For eighteen months it had been known that Philip of Spain was pre- paring an immense army and fleet to invade England, and for some years the bitter feelings between the two countries had been increasing until at last they had broken forth into open war. It is not difficult to account for these bitter feelings. Ever since the day when Queen Mary had caused absolute panic in the country by reason of her marriage to Philip of Spain, and he with her had endeavoured to re-establish the Pope's supremacy in Eng- land and to consolidate his own hold on the island, a hatred against Spain as the chief aggressive power in the world, and the principal persecutor of Protestants, had been steadily growing. Englishmen of all parties were agreed that no foreign despot, whether he were Pope or prince, should tax or toll in their dominions, and in the Spanish marriage and the Spanish policy Englishmen saw not only the overthrow of the Protestant religion and the opening up of fearful persecution (fears which had been onlytoo surely realized), but also the loss of their lands and posses- sions. That England should become a mere appanage or province of Spain was not to be thought of; and though at the death of Mary Tudor this disaster had not happened, and so far Philip's plans had not been accomplished, yet the fear that he was bent upon this scheme naturally excited the feel- ings of Englishmen against him. Moreover, the calamitous French war, into which Philip had forced England for his own benefit, did not tend to soothe the hatred ; for it had greatly reduced the resources of the country. But up to the present time the Spanish king had been able to accomplish a part of his designs. He had kept England and France at enmity with each other. France was his 530 HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND. great rival on the Continent, and most of all he feared that France and England should be- come united against him, .and his way to his •dominion in the Netherlands be thus barred. When, therefore, at the death of Mary, he lost the crown of England, sheer necessity of keeping intact his vast possessions led to his wish to still keep England under his thumb. He therefore proposed himself to Elizabeth as her husband, but the young Queen — re- solved on no account to repeat her half- sister's mistakes — courteously refused his offer. But still the politic Philip resolved to keep England to his side, and to reduce her to his will by seeming kindness ; and the ■apparent alliance between the two countries might have continued, and the final colHsion averted, but for the interference of the Pope. When he heard that Elizabeth had succeeded •to the throne of England, his rage knew no bounds, for between the Oueen and the Vatican lay the fatal dispute of her own illegitimacy. That she, whom the solemn judgment of the Holy See had asserted to have no legal claim, should succeed to the throne of England without consulting the Pope's views on the subject was not to be borne, and he summoned her instantly to submit her claims to his jurisdiction. But if Elizabeth had been prepared to submit to so arrogant a proposal, which she certainly was not, she well knew the English people would never yield to it ; and from the moment of receiving that message the hope of the English Romanists that Elizabeth would prove herself a true daughter of the Romish Church was irretrievably lost. She decidedly and definitely refused to acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope. And from that hour he and his successors were her dire enemies ; especially so after it was known that she had given her subjects a measure of religious toleration, and had revived the Reformed Prayer Book. Therefore he never ceased to urge upon Philip the necessity of purging England of her heresy with the sword. Philip, however, waited the course of events, and endeavoured to mitigate the wrath of Rome, although he was in truth much vexed at the course events were taking in England. He might well be vexed, for these events threatened the entire subversion of his most cherished schemes, although at that time we can hardly imagine that he foresaw all the mighty consequences that would spring therefrom. But this was one of the most critical periods of the history of Europe. Everywhere the new religion was struggling against the might and bigotry of the old ; and at this most critical period England ranged herself in the Protestant ranks. In a few years Elizabeth became the most powerful Protestant sovereign in Europe, and the aid she and her subjects gave to tl.e Netherlands enabled them eventually to throw off the gaUing yokeof Philip and estabhsh their civil and religious freedom. The English Queen's support of the Huguenots enabled Henri IV. to save French Protestantism by the Edict of Nantes, and it gave free play to that sturdy English spirit which was to break the power of Spain and establish Britain as Mistress of the Sea. The Increase of Bitter Feelings BETWEEN England and Spain, As England and England's Queen became more decidedly Protestant, and Philip saw the realization of his schemes recede farther and farther from his view, his anger greatly increased. In fact, when he heard of Eliza- beth's support of the Huguenots, he flew into a violent passion, for he feared, and not with- out reason, that it would give an impulse to "heresy" in his dominions in the Nether- lands. These were among his richest pos- sessions, and the fabrics of Flanders at that day were justly esteemed throughout Europe. But the Flemings and Dutch already resented his rule, and claimed to worship God in their own way, nor could their Protestantism be purged out with fire and sword. And when at last it came to open war between them and their Spanish tyrants, Elizabeth sent over the Earl of Lei- cester and a body of troops to assist them in their efforts to establish a Protestant re- public. This was a well weighed political scheme, and executed simply to keep "war out of our own gate;" for while engaged in suppressing the "heresy" and revolts in Flanders, it was thought the Pope and Philip, having enough to do in Europe, would be prevented from the invasioQ of England. The great policy which ran thi-ough all the tortuous acts and diplomacies of the early part of Elizabeth's reign was to keep Eng- land from war and out of foreign complication. To keep England out of Philip's schemes, and yet to prevent an open war with him, to prevent the Pope from having authority in her realm, — these were Elizabeth's plans, and steadily and unfalteringly she pursued them. For Elizabeth loved England, and her whole heart and mind were bent on developing the resources of the country and fostering the national spirit. " Nothing, no worldly thing under the sun, are so dear to me as the love and goodwill of my subjects." These were the words she spoke to her first parliament, and she certainly had the love and goodwill of her people. She laughed to scorn the Bulls of Deposition which the Pope launched at her devoted head, and secure in the affections of her people she could view with- out alarm the turmoils and strife around her. The policy of the Vatican remained un- changed. Pope succeeded Pope, but there 531 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. was still the same fiery zeal to reduce the whole world to own their sway. They were determined to depose Elizabeth, and re- estabhsh their supremacy in England ; and it was money of the Pope's treasury tifet finally helped to furnish Philip's great Armada. It seemed as if nothing would reduce this little stubborn western island. Jesuit priests had been sent over in great numbers to stir up Romanist revolts and to indoctrinate the people in the teachings of the Vatican, and conspiracies were formed to place the Ro- manist Mary Stuart on the throne. Bulls of Deposition were issued, but all to no purpose. By means of the Test Act the popish pro- pagandists were debarred from taking any office ; and an Act was passed whereby they were commanded to leave the realm within forty days on pain of being treated as traitors. Had it not been that the Pope so much in- sisted on Ehzabeth's deposition by reason of the illegality of her mother's marriage, it may have been that the Queen at this time would not have been so determined to thwart the Papacy. But to acknowledge this was of course just the one thing that Ehzabeth would not do, and her subjects supported her loyally and chivalrously, until at last it became clear to the Pope that only by force of arms could he regain his power over his lost domain ; and the greatest pressure was now put upon Philip to bring back the heretics with fire and sword into the fold of the true Church. And now Philip himself began to show signs of yielding to the Holy See, for he be- gan to fear the growing power of England, and longed to crush her spirit of naval daring. He regarded the whole of the newly dis- covered Western World as his property, and he resented the incursions thither by Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and other English rovers. He would not allow them even to trade with those rich shores, and laid an em- bargo on English vessels and property throughout the extent of his wide dominions. In reply to this decree Ehzabeth gave her sailors permission to make war on Spanish ships and seize their merchandize ; and she and her subjects treated with undisguised contempt the Papal decree which gave the New World absolutely to Spain. The daring English adventurers of those days were quite as willing to trade as to fight, and the bhnd bigotry of PhiHp which refused to allow any heretic to traffic on his domains, and determined him to keep the whole of the wealth of Peru and Mexico for himself, only stirred their religious and patriotic zeal to a still higher pitch. The consequence was that English ships encountered Spanish galleons long before the Armada sailed up the English Channel. The Puritanism of the sea-rovers was added to their hatred of Spain. They thought they did God service in slaughtering the Spaniards who burned Protestants and tortured them in, the vile Inquisition; and it was religious fanaticism, as well as national pride and naval daring, which urged on Drake to those deeds of daring which made his name the terror of the Spanish main. But his successes stirred Philip's anger to the utmost, and at last the Spanish king resolved to conquer the obstinate island for the Vatican, and at the same time crush out all opposition to his selfish schemes in the East and West Indies. His recent conquest of Portugal had completely changed his position and strengthened his power, for not only the king- dom itself, but all her recently acquired colo- nies in the East and Western World now acknowledged his sway. The magnificent victory, also, which his fleet had gained at Lepanto over the Turks had greatly exalted the repute of his arms, and at this period there seemed to be only one nation who dared to defy his mandates and resist his authority. This was that turbulent England, which had helped, and still continued to help, his re- volted subjects in Flanders ; which sent ships to his farthest dominions and maintained their right to trade and conquer as well as he ; and which, more than all, insulted him per- sonally by ridiculing him (as the hated hus- band of their former queen) in their stage plays and masquerades. If the growing power of England were destroyed, the Dutch must submit ; France would be unable to oppose him, and universal dominion appeared to be the natural consequence of a subjuga- tion of this obstinate island. Further, the execution of Mary Stuart roused the papal passion to its fiercestfiiry, and also gave some pretence to Philip's claims, inasmuch as she bequeathed to him, as being the nearest heir by blood of the Romish faith, her rights to the English crown, which the Pope had always supporjted, and which were by no means inconsiderable according to the then received opinions. Philip therefore counted upon the support of the English Romanists who had hitherto maintained the pretensions of Mary Stuart ; and he was assured by the Jesuit emissaries already in the island that three-fourths of the EngHsh nation were Romanists, and at the command of the Pope they would surely rise against their heretic Oueen. But in this view, as the event proved, they were utterly mistaken ; and it was a Romanist, Lord Howard of Effingham, who was ap- pointed High Admiral of the fleet. They did not know the temper of the English people any more than they knew the strength and sternness of the power that was rising in the foggy little northern island. These, then, were the causes which led to Philip's invasion of England and the pre- 532 HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND. paration of the celebrated Armada. By crushing England Philip could alone crush the revolt in the Netherlands, for she had supported the insurrection both with money and men ; he was determined to maintain his supremacy of the seas, which England alone seriously threatened ; he wished to bring back again the heretical island into the fold of the Church by force of arms, while last but not least he desired to enforce what he called his personal right to the throne and the rights bequeathed by Mary Stuart, Pope Sixtus V. renewed the Bull of Deposition, and denounced Elizabeth as a murderous heretic whose destruction was the bounden duty of all true sons of the Church, He also bound himself to con- tribute a million of scudi to the expenses of the war. The army of the Armada was thus a great triumph of Jesuit intrigue. "Singeing the King of Spain's Beard," As early as the year 1584 the first ves- sels of the great Armada — a Spanish word signifying a fleet of armed ships — began to gather in the Tagus. Philip knew he had engaged in a task of no ordinary magnitude, and he was resolved to be fully prepared. For a long time his preparations were secret, but Drake and his companions were every- where, and news of it eventually leaked out. Furnished by the Queen with six ships of war, and assisted by twenty-six privateers supplied by the merchants of London, the dauntless adventurer left Plymouth Sound in April 1587, and sailed straight for Cadiz, bent on destroying as many as possible of the ships which had so long and so labori- ously been prepared by the King of Spain. He found the mouth of Cadiz harbour to be narrow, and heavy batteries flanked it on both sides. To run into it seemed like putting one's head into a Hon's mouth ; but although Admiral Burroughs refused to allow the ship over which he had control to join in so hazardous an undertaking, Drake deter- mined to make the daring attempt. On the morning of the 19th of April, there- fore, the wind being fair and the tide at the flood, Drake gave the word, and into the harbour flew his twenty-nine ships as fast as sails and tide could carry them. The bat- teries opened a feeble fire, but only one shot took effect, and on dashed the ships. They fell first on a large galleon, and concentrating their fire upon her, riddled her with shot so completely that she speedily sank. Then on to the others, — large store-ships most of them, containing food and stores for the Armada, — burning and destroying everything they could touch. The crews fled in dismay or made but a feeble resistance, and in one day all the harbourful of preparations of many months were destroyed or captured. Riding out to sea next day with the tide, Drake shaped his course for Cape St. Vin- cent, plundering and burning all the Spanish store-ships and galleons he could find. All these vessels were loaded with arms and provisions for the Armada, and Drake de- stroyed them without mercy. United to his patriotism, which caused him to carry the war into the enemy's country and, if possible, prevent the Armada from ever sailing at all towards England, was his opinion that he was doing God's service ; thus we find him writing, "When men thoroughly believed that what they were doing was in defence of their religion and country, a merciful God for Christ's sake would give victory, nor would Satan and his ministers prevail against them." Arrived off Cape St. Vincent, Drake dropped anchor, there to await the coming of some Spanish ships of war from the Medi- terranean, which he had heard were on their way to join the Armada. While waiting, Drake sent his boats ashore, stormed the forts of Faro, and thus had a safe anchorage and also access (for a time) to the mainland for fresh water and provisions. But whether, thus early, the Spaniards were so afraid of Drake that the ships would not venture near him if they could help it, certain it is the contingent for which he waited came not, and l3rake was reluctantly compelled to leave the forts he had so valiantly taken and move again to the north. For he had set his heart upon accomplishing the most daring deed of all ; he had determined to venture into the Tagus itself, where the Armada was lying at anchor, and destroy it in its very home. This would be to strike at the very heart of Philip's enterprise, and prevent for some time, if not entirely, the despatch of an Armada. Hitherto what he had done had been (to use his own expressive phrase) but ^'■singeing the King of Spain's beard" a,ndi he wished to strike at his heart, and kill his enterprise once for all. Time being precious, therefore — for he knew that to be successful his action must be swift and sudden — he set sail from Faro for the Lisbon estuary. He did not under- rate the magnitude of the danger, for he knew that in the Tagus the Spaniards were in overwhelming force, but the mouth of the river was wide, and he well knew that his lightly-built frigates could easily outsail and fly round the ponderous war-castles of the Spaniards. His design, therefore, was to repeat the tactics which had been so suc- cessful at Cadiz, — to sail in suddenly on a flood tide, take the Spaniards entirely by surprise, riddle the closely-packed, unpre- pared, and half-manned ships with bullets or set them on fire, when, being thick together, he could leave the flames to do their destruc- 533 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tive work while he retreated triumphantly on the ebb-tide. These were his plans, and there seems little doubt but that if he could have had his way he would have so effectually disposed of the Armada that the Spanish expedition would never have sailed ; but as he was near- ing the Tagus he was overtaken by orders from Elizabeth forbidding him to do anything of the kind, and, in fact, that although he might watch the preparations, he must moderate his efforts against the King of Spain, for there was every prospect of a peace being patched up. That negotiations for peace were going on was certain, but it was such a peace that Ehzabeth could not accept without national dishonour. The bold captain, therefore, was obliged to forego his most cherished design ; but he hung about the Spanish shores, steadily de- stroying everything he could lay his hands upon. He made a descent on the harbour of Corunna, and repeated here the successful raid of Cadiz. In fact, in about two months' time he had destroyed about half the Armada and a great quantity of the stores accumu- lated for the equipment of the ships. This splendid service accomplished, he set sail for the Azores in the hope of finding some treasure-ships returning from the Indies with which to pay his men ; for the supplies from home were so scanty that the wages and most of the rations of his sailors had to be provided out of what they could get. Drake was again successful in his quest, for he had not set sail many days from the shores of Spain when he fell in with a richly freighted carrack, which so satisfied his sailors that they counted their services well paid ; thus having done all they could for that time they returned home, feeling well assured that no Armada could set sail from Spain that summer. Playing at Peacemaking. Notwithstanding all the efforts of her ministers, Elizabeth was still bent on making peace, although it was clear to all that Philip was simply endeavouring to gain time. The Prince of Parma, the most able commander of that day, and captain-general of the Spanish forces, had gathered in the Nether- lands about fifty thousand of the finest troops Europe could furnish, — not only from Spain herself, but from the countries and provinces which owed Philip allegiance or were his allies. Thus, four thousand'men were drafted from Philip's kingdom of Naples and Sicily, three thousand from Germany and Austria, and four thousand from northern and central Italy, besides the flower of the splendid troops from Arragon and Castille. Immense flat-bottomed boats had been made and were floating off the coast of Holland to convey this superb army, with all its gun-carriages and siege-machines, over the narrow seas to the eastern coast of Kent ; but Parma, like a wise general, would not trust his heavily ladeii transports to the tender mercies of Drake and his colleagues unless the Armada was there to protect them. But for the time being the Armada could not sail, so the Prince of Parma was obliged to wait ; and thus the winter of 1587 closed in, the provinces of Spain resounding with preparations for the crusade against the "obstinate" little island, notwithstanding that negotiations for peace were still going forward. Into the details of these negotiations we need not enter, nor into the vexed question of what may have been the Queen's motive. Pro- bably in her secret heart she may have feared the issue, and thought that peace at any price might be better than the loss of her crown, and that England, whose welfare she was passionately determined to promote, should pass under the heel of the conqueror. One object of those negotiations seems to have been to obtain the aid of France, both sides manoeuvring to obtain this aid. In the end Philip gained the assistance of Guise, if assistance it might be called, or what was as much to his purpose, he prevented the King from assisting Elizabeth, for the fanatical Romanists of Paris raised barricades in the streets, vanquished the royal troops, and the King, Henry of Navarre, — who was well affected towards the Protestants, — found him- self a prisoner in the hands of their leader, the Duke of Guise. England, therefore, now stood alone ; she was face-to-face with her foe. At last all Elizabeth's diplomacy was pushed aside, and Philip, who had so long waited for a favour- able, opportunity, found the moment for which he had manoeuvred. It seemed incredible that this little island could successfully defy the mightiest power in the world — for such Spain was at that time. Since the days of the Csesars, no such mighty power had existed, and backed as she was by the Pope and the fanaticism of the Roman- ists, she was regarded as invincible. All Europe looked on with excited interest, for it was felt that a crisis in the world's history had come. And even so it was, for, humanly speaking, had Spain been successful, Europe might have been crushed for another century under a grinding tyranny, and the Reforma- tion, with all the freedom and progress and enlightenment it was bringing in its train,, might have been swept away. Hand in Hand for England. There was one ally, however, which failed Philip. He had been led to i3elieve by his 53^ HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND. emissaries that his invasion would be sup- plemented by a rising of the Romanists in England itself, who would hasten to his stan- dard at the first note of war. But such was not the case. At this great crisis, patriotism was stronger than priestism, and all sects forgot their differences and quickly rallied round their Queen. Puritan and Episcopalian, Protestant and Romanist, all joined as it were HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND ; and if Parma should ever get so far as to land on the Kentish coast he would find a hundred thou- sand well-trained and stubborn Englishmen ready to dispute every inch of ground. There may have been a few traitors in the country, but they were harmless amid the universal enthusiasm. Letters from the sovereign were sent to the lords-lieutenant of the various counties, commanding them to urge upon the gentle- men under them to provide and call together as many footmen and horsemen as possible, fully furnished for war ; similar letters were also sent to the great towns and to each of the nobility. The result of these efforts was that the whole country soon rang with the din of arms. Everywhere bands of soldiers were being trained and exercised. At the great camp at Tilbury, the Queen rode through the ranks, encouraging the levies by her spirited words. It has been often said that Elizabeth showed her greatest wisdom in knowing how to summon the best men to her councils, and never perhaps did this fact reveal itself more fully than in the government she now con- voked to her aid,— the best and wisest men in the realm, — among whom were Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Walter Knolles, and others well trained in wai". Some were for concentrating their whole energies upon an army that should oppose the landing of the enemy ; others, among whom was Sir Walter Raleigh, were for putting out a fleet, and encountering the Spaniards in the Channel, to prevent them from landing at all ; and happily these wiser counsels prevailed. In his " Historie of the World," he makes this notable remark which, doubtless, embodies the advice hegave toEliza- beth's council : " Surely I hold that the best way is to keep our enemies from treading on our ground, wherein if we fail, then must we seek to make them wish they had stayed at their own home. . . . But ... as to whether England without the help of her fleet be able to debar an enemy from landing, I hold that it is unable to do so, and therefore, I think it most dangerous to make the adventure.'' Raleigh got his way, and England deter- mined to fight her foe first at sea and, if possibb, debar him from landing, by means of her lleet. At that time the ships of Her Majesty's navy numbered only 29 or 30 vesse.s ; but the citizens of London, Bristol, Plymouth, Southampton, and other great ports exhibited as great zeal in furnishing ships as the gentry of the midland counties displayed in mustering soldiers, so that in a short time the number was raised to 80. The number of sailors to man these vessels (including volunteers) was about 9,000 ; but England's national treasury was at that time so poor, or, as some writers assert, the Queen was so parsimonious, that the armament was but very badly provisioned, while of gun- powder and shot the store was still more limited. Lord Howard of Effingham was appointed High Admiral, and the redoubtable Sir Francis Drake was the second in com- mand. All the old "sea-dogs," Hawkins, Frobisher, and others, whose names were the terror of Spanish treasure- ships, were there also, and invincible as the Armada was held to be, and splendidly equipped as the immense fleet certainly was, there were those on board who knew that a hard fight was before them to reduce these English rovers of the sea. The Armada sets sail. While Philip had been playing at peace he had been steadily adding ship to ship and regiment to regiment. The ravages com- mitted by Drake had been speedily repaired, for the fanatical enthusiasm of the people was enormous. The "holy war" against England was preached from a thousand pulpits, and Spaniards came forth in thousands to strike a blow for the Holy Catholic Church. Their enterprise was blessed by the Pope, and undertaken to execute his wishes. Elizabeth of England was a wicked woman, an usurping heretic, who flouted the decrees of the Vicar of Christ, kept their King from his own, and aided his rebellious subjects. She had turned England into a hot-bed of heretics, and had persecuted their co-religionists ; it was the bounden duty therefore of every Romanist to aid in expelling her from her throne. The " crusaders '' were embarked in 149 or 150 vast vessels, 65 of which were immense galleons, built very high of well-seasoned wood. The timbers were four or five feet thick to resist the shot, and well-pitched cables were wound round the masts to strengthen them likewise against the fire of their enemies. Next to these came 8 large galleys, or galleasses, bristling with cannon, loaded with soldiers, and each rowed by the sinewy arms of 300 slaves who had been dragged by the all-conquering Spaniard from the sunny shores of Algiers and the Bosphorus. These vessels were held to be very dangerous, as they were supposed to be superior to all chances of wind and tide, and could be rowed anywhere at any moment. Fifty-six well-armed merchant vessels and 20 caravels or pinnaces propelled with oars and attached to the larger vessels com- 535 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. pleted the armament. The number of sailors to- man this large fleet was computed to be eight thousand, the soldiers twenty thousand, and the slaves two thousand. There were nearly three thousand pieces of cannon, the greater number of which were able to dis- charge much heavier shot than those on board the English vessels. It had been intended that the expedition should be com- manded by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, who was undoubtedly the ablest sailor that Philip had. But he died suddenly in January, and Philip then gave the chief command to the Duke of Medina Sidonia, a court favourite, who knew but little of the sea. He was sup- ported, however, by all the ablest captains in Spain. The instructions given to this fleet were that the ships were to sail for England direct, gain command of the Channel, and assist and cover the crossing of Parma's immense army from the Netherlands. On the 20th of May, 1588, the magnificent armament, designated by the Spaniards the " Invincible Armada," and believed by nearly the whole of Europe to be so, set sail from the Tagus. But the hills of Spain had not faded from the sailors' sight before a heavy storm struck the ponder- ous high-built vessels and damaged many of them so severely that the whole expedition had to return to the nearest ports to refit. Ofders had been given, that if scattered the ships were to collect in the Bay of Ferrol. In the course of some days this was done, but it was the 12th of July before the Armada was again completely ready for sea. On the morning of that day, with the briUiant sun shining on their red-crossed sails and flaunt- ing flags, the great ships slowly stood out for the northern seas,— the largest, most magni- ficent, and heavily-armed fleet that the world then had ever seen. The Preparations of the English. The English ships had not been idle while the Armada had been refitting. The Queen, anxious to save money, hearing that the Spaniards had put into port, sent orders to disband some part of the English fleet; but Lord Howard, judging that the danger had not yet passed, dared to disobey his royal mistress, and sailed off towards Spain, hoping to discover the real design of the enemy, and, if possible, attack him on his own shores. We may well be sure Drake seconded his chief in this bold policy, and accordingly, early in June, Howard sailed towards Corunna, but when near this port the north wind changed, and, fearing lest the Spaniards should pass him unobserved and enter the Channel, which was now unguarded. Lord Howard put back and cruised some time at the entrance. The Armada still fail- ing to appear and rations running short, — indeed they appear to have been short all the time, — Howard returned to Plymouth, to await further news. Fishing boats, privateers, and other vessels were cruising about on the look-out for the Armada, and on the morning of the 20th, eight days after leaving Ferrol Bay, a small privateer was observed by the Spaniards hanging about quite close to them and coolly counting their numbers. Chase was given, but Captain Fleming, — for such was the name of the captain of the little vessel, — having seen enough for his purpose, shook out all his sails, and scudding swiftly before the wind soon left his ponderous pursuers far behind. Not long afterwards he landed at Plymouth, as we have seen, and gave the important news to the English Admiral and his captains. After warping out his vessels, Lord How- ard slowly cruised about outside Plymouth Sound waiting for the Spaniards to appear. He had not even the whole of his scanty fleet with him, for part of it, under-* Lord Henry Seymour, was employed, with a few Dutch vessels, in blockading the ports of Flanders, and preventing the Prince of Parma from endeavouring to cross. The Spanish scheme was to avoid an action in the Channel, and steering straight for Calais roads, scatter the ships waiting there, and join the Prince of Parma's army, which, under cover of the Armada, was to land at once at Margate. Such was their scheme; but they had reckoned without their host. If, contrary to Philip's orders, they had attempted to take the English fleet by sur- prise or land on the Devonshire shore, they speedily found they could not have done so, at least without opposition ; for when they arrived off the Devonshire coast, they saw by the pale light^of the summer moon, much to their astonishment, that the English fleet was cruising about outside the Sound quite on the alert and prepared to oppose them. Another surprise was waiting for the Spaniards, when in the dawn of the next morning they saw that the English ships had skilfully slipped to windward of them, and were so well handled and so well-built that they could sail at least two feet for their one, and could glide round them so quickly and easily that by the time their guns were pointed, behold ! the vessel aimed at had shot away out of reach. The huge, high-built galleons, upon which the Spaniards prided themselves so much, were unmanageable as huge punts piled with hay, while the well-built English frigates were like the modern steam-launches, or high-mettled, well-managed horses when compared to them. The preparation of the Queen's ships had been entrusted by her to Sir John Hawkins, and he had certainly sent them to sea in a 36 HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND, splendid manner, notwithstanding her parsi- mony. Her wisdom in the appointment of Hawkins for this duty was another instance of her choosing the right man for the right post, and notwithstanding the storms which The First Day's Fighting. When Medina Sidonia saw the Enghsh fleet near him he attempted to close with them and crush them at once by sheer force of superior •• i'HE Spaniards are upon us !" (seepage 529.^ the ships encountered on their voyage to Corunna, they were in a perfect state on their return. It was not so with the Spaniards, for after leaving Ferrol Bay the storms they had net with had wrecked four of their number. numbers ; but the English squadron sailed so quickly that the Duke found it impossible to come up to them. The English ships seemed able to fight or not fight as they chose. The battle began by a bold little pin- nace named The Disdain^ commanded by 537 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Jonas Bradbury, sailing quickly up to one of the lagging Spanish galleons, and pouring a scathing broadside into her at close quarters. Then four of the English ships sailed behind the entire rear line of the Spaniards, pouring full broadsides into each galleon as they passed, then bearing round and returning and repeating the same operation. The Spaniards were considerably surprised at this course of action. These smart English ships could sail, manoeuvre, and fire their cannon much faster than they could, and each English ship seemed to discharge four broadsides to the Spaniards' one. Moreover, as the Armada had allowed the English to slip behind them, Lord Howard had the wind in his favour, while the heavy and ponderous galleons lay almost like huge logs on the water. All the English ships were now engaged, sailing quickly by the big ships, and pouring in a broadside as they passed ; and by the time the Spaniards were ready for them they were off to another vessel. When the Armada did fire, the shot frequently went hissing over the English vessels, and splash- ing into the sea beyond, wrought no damage. But the English broadsides crashed into the huge galleons near the water-line, ripping through the thick timbers and scattering death and destruction in the crowded lower decks ; for many wounds were inflicted by the splintered wood. The rigging also was much damaged, and in some of the largest ships spars were carried away, and the masts were seriously weakened by being shot through. As the evening drew on, the wind and sea rose high, clouds rolled up from the south-west and west, and all things promised what sailors call a dirty night. Medina Sidonia, finding he could do these sharp- sailing English but little hurt as the weather then was, gave orders for the Armada to sail on towards Calais. The English followed, and took every opportunity of harassing their large and unwieldy enemy. The tactics of the Spaniards rendered this task com- paratively easy, for they sailed close together in one large mass, which seriously impeded their movements. As dusk drew on, a large galleon, bearing the flag of Don Pedro de Valdez, one of the ablest officers in the fleet, collided with another galleon, and sustained severe injury. The bowsprit broke, and also the foremast, which had probably been much weakened by the English shot, and both hung at the vessel's side, a mass of wreckage which seriously delalyed the vessel's progress. Two galleys were sent to take her in tow, and row her along, but the sea ran so high that the ropes parted, and she became an easy conquest, for the Spaniards, terrified at the name of Drake, yielded at once when the English commander boarded her. She proved to be a rich prize, containing many casks of gold pieces and some tons of gunpowder, which were speedily transferred to the English ships to be used against the Spaniards next day. But the misfortunes to the Armada on the first day of fighting had not ended with the wreck of Don Pedro's vessel. An explosion, either accidental or caused wilfully by one of the men who had been quarrelling, blew up the deck of one of the largest and strongest vessels, which bore the flag of Oquendo, a daring and able officer. The ship was so strongly built that she still floated, but many of the men were killed, while the others were taken off into the nearest Spanish vessels. This wreck also afforded a rich prize next day to the enterprising English, who found much money and also some unexploded barrels of powder in the hold. Thus, tossed by the tempest and battered by the enemy's bullets, ended the first day's " triumph " of the Invincible Armada ! The Fight off Portland ; Plucking THE Feathers of the Spaniards one BY one. The next day, July 22nd, dawned calm and still. As the rosy light stole over the still heaving waters the two fleets were discovered lying off Portland, about four miles apart. The wind was so gentle and so much in favour of the Armada that the English could do little or nothing, and Medina Sidonia de- termined to rest his crews after the turmoil of yesterday. But next day the wind had. increased still in the Spaniards' favour, and they therefore bore down on the English^ who flew off to sea. Medina Sidonia, think- ing they were afraid of him, pursued them as fast as the wind and the sinewy arms of his slaves could force his ponderous vessels through the water. But the English were not afraid. Their plan was to draw off the galleys and galleons one by one and encounter them, if possible, singly, or only two or three at a time. To use their own phrase, they determined to " pluck the feathers of the Spaniard one by one." This had been the explanation of their conduct hitherto, and was the policy they determined to still pursue. It proved to be successful to-day also. Some of the galleons outsailed the others, and when the wind changed, as it frequently does in the Channel in the after- noon. Lord Howard turned and attacked the one nearest him. She defended herself with great bravery, but the English sailed so quickly that the Spaniards could not close with them. At last, when the English powder and shot failed. Lord Howard was obliged to sheer off for more, and the main body of the Armada thought he had been worsted in the fight. The next day was calm, and through the 538 HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND. shimmering summer haze the Needles stood out calm and still in distant view. Fight as the English would, the Armada was slowly sailing up Channel. The galleys now endeavoured to row close to the English ships, but they do not seem to have accomplished their purpose or to have done much damage. Lord Howard was waiting for supplies, and this day, the 24th of the month, was mostly a day of rest. But that night a breeze sprang up, and sloops bearing ammunition came to the English ships, as also did a great number of small private vessels, owned and chartered by the gentlemen of the southern counties, and all anxious to share the danger and glory of defending their coasts. Sir Walter Raleigh, too, had joined Howard and Drake. "And now," says the old historian Stow, "the English navy being well increased, gave charge and chase upon the enemy, squadron after squadron seconding each other like swift horsemen that could nimbly come and go and fetch the wind with most advantage." Another contemporary writer. Sir Henry Wotton, says that the battle off Portland was like " a morrice-dance upon the waters," so light and quick were the movements of the Enghsh ships compared to the slow and un- wieldy motions of the Spanish galleons. This was the day when Medina Sidonia was destined to learn that the English were by no means afraid of him, and that the failure of their powder and shot had been their principal reason for sheering off before. The battle this day seems to have been opened by Hawkins placing men in boats to row his ship — the Victory — alongside a large galleon which had been so disabled in the fight of the 23rd that it was unmanageable. Medina Sidonia seeing this, sent three galleys, rowed against the wind by slaves, to rescue her. But Hawkins had taken possession of the galleon, and four English ships — the Liofi, the Eliza- beth Jonas, the Bear, and the Triumph — quickly beat up to the rescue, and gave the galleys broadside after broadside with such rapidity that it was not long before the blood of the Spaniards flowed out of the scupper- holes like water. The round shot crashed through the much-vaunted thick sides of their ships, and the splintered wood flying like new missiles among the crowds of slaves and soldiers did fearful damage. The rescu- ing galleys had quite enough to do to defend themselves, and seem to have given no more thought to rescuing the galleon. But the fight had now become general, and the close order of the Armada having become broken. Lord Howard, in the Ark Raleigh, supported by his best ships, went straight to the centre of the Spanish squadron, where was Medina Sidonia himself, in the huge sea-castle, San Martin. In everv case the tactics of the English were the same. They would sail close in under the great galleons and pour in broadside after broad- side with terrible effect into their high-built sides, and then while the slow vessels were veering round to attack, or the Spaniards were endeavouring to grapple, they would dart away and fire another broadside inta another vessel. Like will-o'-the-wisps the English ships darted hither and thither spouting fire and flame, death and destruc- tion, wherever they went. Yet by no manner of means could the Spaniards put their hands on them. When the Spaniards fired, the shot, for the most part being delivered from such high decks, and by reason of the bad aim, flew wide and wild over the English ships or through the rigging, and splashed harmlessly into the sea beyond. Once, when the bold Spanish commander, Oquendo, ran right across the bows of the Ark Raleigh and damaged her somewhat severely by the col- lision so that her rudder was lost, and for the time being she became unmanageable, a number of galleons, wishing to make sure of this their one poor chance of success, endea- voured to close round her at once like wasps on a ripe plum, but quick, almost as lightning, Howard had out his boats, took his ship in tow, and pulled her head round ; the wind swelled her sails, and she slipped out of the hands of the Spaniards as easily and grace- fully as a bird ! Such smartness and energy as the English everywhere displayed dismayed the Spaniards almost as much as the terrible torrents of shot which so frequently crashed through their ships' sides and smashed them ta splinters. 'Tween decks, on many of these tall sea-castles, the carnage was something fearful. Thousands of soldiers were con- gregated here, together with many slaves. They had thought that four feet of timber would be ample security ; but the English round shot went ripping through the oaken planks, and the splinters flying in all direc- tions proved almost as destructive among the crowded ranks as the shell fire of modern days. As the sun passed the zenith, and the long, hot summer afternoon wore on, the English ammunition gave out once more, the ships sheered off one by one, and the battle gradu- ally died away. But the havoc among the Spaniards had been enormous. Rigging and masts, boats and bulwarks, sides and steering gear, had all suffered, and the placid surface of the summer sea was strewn with splintered fragmentsfor manyamile. Even the Admiral's, ship, the San Martin, had had its main mast shot away, and the weak and inexperienced commander, Medina Sidonia, was only kept from striking his flag by the fiery ardour of Oquendo and the bravery of Recalde. Had the English been well supplied with ammu- 539 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. nition there seems but little doubt but they would have continued their tactics until they had smashed the whole of the " Invincible" Armada to splinters, or forced the ships one by one to strike their flags. But the Queen's poverty or parsimony was such that they were continually running short of all supplies. Even when a prize was taken, the conquerors were obliged to carefully register all the powder and provisions obtained before they could use them. Thus the next day, instead of completing the rout, Lord Howard was obhged to hasten to Dover for fresh supplies. On the following day, Saturday, 27th July, the opportunity was gone, for the week of light wind and sunshine came to an end, and the rough seas of the Channel prevented any concerted attack. Medina Sidonia, bent on carrying out his instructions and effecting a junction with the Prince of Parma, beat further up Channel, but at length was obliged to anchor in Calais Roads for fear of running on the Goodwins or some of the innumerable shoals of the narrow seas. All Saturday night and Sunday he lay there, sending off messenger after messenger to Parma praying him to send him some light vessels in which to attack the English, and also some skilful pilots to steer him through the straits. But these were just the two things Parma could not do. He did not or he could not at first even reply, so closely was he block- aded by Lord Seymour ; so here was the splendid spectacle for all Europe to witness, of two great armies having boasted loudly and long of their determination to beard the English lion in his den, and having got near enough to do so, yet both afraid to take the final step and meet him face-to-face and touch his teeth. Truly the Spanish com- mander seemed to fear the narrow seas, with that terrible English fleet behind, as if they were indeed as dangerous as the mouth of a raging lion. He wrote again and again to Parma, ask- ing for ship-loads of powder and shot, and also for gun-boats, which could move quickly and keep the terrible English at bay. Parma's answer, when it did come, was that he could not and should not stir until the Armada had cleared the Channel and dis- persed the English fleet. To embark his immense army in transports unprotected by big ships would be certain destruction. The magnificent Armada was sent to help and protect Parma, and Parma could not protect it. Once set on English shores then he would know what to do, and would strike quickly and well, but he could do nothing until then. This seems to have been the substance of Parma's answer put into the plain English of to-day, and without doubt he was right to a great extent. His was an army for fighting on land, and he had no armed boats to pro- tect the numerous transports for conveying that army. The English fleet could almost blow them out of the water without coming to close quarters. Philip had anticipated that without doubt the Armada could dispose of the English fleet in one decisive sea-fight, and that Parma should cross under the pro- tection of the Armada. But there was the despised English fleet watching the Armada just out of cannon shot and only waiting op- portunity to destroy it piecemeal. The Fire-ships. This waiting, however, did not suit the Eng- lish at all. Their supplies were still very short, and some of the ships appear to have had — even with the supplies from Dover — only suf- ficient for one day's fighting and one day's food. At that time they did not know Medina Sidonia's fears, nor the extent of damage they had done him. They only knew he was in communication with Parma, and that he had anchored close on shoal water near the French coast, where they could not attack with any chance of success. As the Sunday afternoon wore away, Medina Sidonia seems to have sent another message to Parma, saying that he must cross at once, and that he would endeavour to keep the English engaged. To this Parma replied that he would be ready during the week, and that his army should embark on the Friday following. But he again insisted on the fact that the Armada must do all the sea fighting, and must protect his troops while crossing. But while these messages were passing, while the sun of the Sabbath afternoon sank to a stormy sunset, and all England was praying in her churches with greater fervour than ever before, " Save us and deliver us, we humbly beseech Thee, from the hands of our enemies," the English captains had held a hurried and anxious consultation in the cabin of the Ark Raleigh, Lord Howard's flag- ship. The fate of England seemed almost settled. Although they had done their utmost the immense numbers of the Spaniards had en- abled them to hold out, and they were anchored in communication with Parma, and that prince, if energetic, could land some, if not all, his troops. What was to be done ? Presently the captains left their Admiral's cabin with brighter faces. A bold step had been decided on, — a step which, according to Camden, was commanded by Elizabeth her- self; but remembering how she loved flattery, we may perhaps be pardoned for inclining to the belief that the design really originated with the daring Drake than with her, although contemporaries wishing to gain her favour might give her the credit of it. In the fancied temporary security of that evening the Spaniards went to sleep. No English could surely attack them that night. 540 HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND. But while most of them were in their first slum- ber, and the watch on deck had been almost lulled to unconscious repose by the wash of the waves against their ships' sides, suddenly in the darkness of the cloudy night bright flashes of light shot upward from some small ships that had crept unseen into their midst, and before any one could tell what was the matter, the Armada was lit up by the burning blaze of several fire-ships, and dense volumes of suffocating smoke rolled around. The tireless English had taken eight of the most worthless of their attendant vessels, and smearing the rigging and decks plentifully with pitch, and putting aboard sulphur and fleet to follow him. When he reached the clear water of the Channel, and in the dim- ness and dusk saw the huge forms of his gal- leons looming around him, he congratulated himself on having skilfully checked the evil design of the enemy — when, in fact, he had done just exactly what they wanted him to do. At daybreak he discovered that many of his ships had drifted off towards Flanders, that the largest of the galleys was aground on Calais bar, and that others were collecting off Gravelines. The energetic English commander sent off boat-loads of sailors at the earliest dawn to attack the stranded galley, and ere long, the The FiRE-SHii-s sent among the Spanish Vessels. small quantities of gunpowder, had towed them under cover of the night near to the Armada, and then setting fire to them with slow matches, had set theiTi drifting with the tide right into the centre of the Spanish ships. The result was successful even beyond the hopes of the English. The Spaniards were thrown into a fearful panic, and fearing that floating mines were upon them, they cut their cables and put out to sea. If the Spanish commander had been equal to h i s post he might perhaps have quelled the panic by getting out boats quickly, rowing to the hre-ships, and tugging them clear ; but anxious to prevent disaster he hastened out to sea and ordered his English were swarming over her bulwarks. It was a fierce fight, for the Spaniards de- fended themselves with the bravery of despair ; but the victory was with the EngUsh, although they lost many men. The Spaniards lost four hundred men. The Action off Gravelines. During this time Medina Sidonia, with the ships which had remained near him, en- deavoured to take up his position again in Calais harbour ; he also signalled for his other vessels to follow his example. But Drake had made up his mind that the Spaniards should never drop anchor again 541 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. in their former place of security, and, more- over, he was determined that they should be driven through the straits into the wild North Sea. Drake and Fenner therefore commenced the fight in the early morning by sailing close in to the galleons, and between them and the French shore ; while Hawkins, Frobisher, Howard, and others soon came up; and follow- ing the tactics which had answered so well on the preceding days, the English ships coming to windward of the Spaniards, sa.iled smartly in under the high-decked galleons and pouring in a continuous torrent of shot, swiftly passed away out of danger as necessity arose. The "Invincible" Armada, huddled close together, sailed slov/ly up Channel to the fatal straits, smartly followed by the EngUsh, who, reserving their fire till they could get quite near, sent crashing broadsides one after the other into the unwieldy castles, which, hemmed in on every side, and unable to grapple with their swiftly darting enemy, were forced slowly but surely to the surf- beaten shoals of the Flemish coast. All through that long summer day, from the time when the early morning dawn glinted on the Channel waves, to the evening hour when long lines of red light from the sinkmg sun streaked the wreck-laden sea — all day long did the rain of round shot continue, until every charge of powder was gone, every ball sent on its deadly errand, and every seaman weary with the hard and incessant toil. The carnage among the Spaniards had been fearful. Riddled with shot, masts in splinters, sails in rags, and guns dis- mounted, half the seamen killed, and drift- ing on an unknown and inhospitable shore, the Armada was indeed in a pitiable plight. It is computed by the Spaniards themselves that they lost not less than four thousand men that day, besides the number of wounded. The crowded galleons became slaughter-houses, and blood poured out from many a scupper- hole like bilge-water. In many cases the vessels were only kept afloat by plates of iron nailed over the shot holes, and the principal occupation of many a man that day was thus to stop the leaks of his ship. As it was, three of the huge galleons went down before the day was done, and three •others, totally unmanageable, drifted help- lessly on Ostend, where two fell afterwards into English hands, and the men of the other finally were able to join Parma. But as the sun finally sank, and the grey twilight crept over the water, another terrible misfor- tune befell : the Santa Maria, one of the largest galleons left afloat, went down with all hands. During the evening and night of this terrible day — the 29th — Medina Sidonia col- lected his ships, and crowding on all the sail their shattered masts could carry, stood out for the Northern Sea. The English, not knowing how severely their enemies were injured, and thinking that, as Howard said, " they were still wonderful great and strong," resolved still to give chase and do what more damage they could. But the Spaniards thought no more of fighting. Their proud spirit was completely broken, and they only thought of saving themselves. A few officers were still unsub- dued, but the men were completely panic- stricken. " What af^e we to do, Senor Oquendo.'' we are lost — utterly lost ! " exclaimed Sidonia in despair to his bravest officer. " Lost ! " exclaimed Oquendo in scornful anger. " Not so, your Excellency ? order up fresh gunpowder." But at the council of war held in Sidonia's cabin it was resolved to retreat to Spain by the one unopposed course, — up the North Sea, round the Orkneys, and home by way of the west of Ireland. And although the wind swung round to the east, and consequently in their favour for taking up again their safe and sure anchorage in Calais harbour, yet the timorous counsels prevailed, and the "Invincible" Armada set sail for the cir- cuitous retreat. As the Spaniards slowly beat northwards, they refitted their vessels as best they might, and all the men were put on short rations of water, so that the casks might last out until they saw again the blue hills and fair shores of Spain. But it was few of them that ever saw their native land again. A fierce south- west wind blew up, and the sea was soon in a raging fury. The sailors had hard work tc keep their shaken and shattered ships afloat in such a tempestuous sea ; and when the straining seams of one poor wounded vessel after another gave way, and she became water-logged and dropped behind, the others, still in woeful fear of the terrible English fleet, pressed on and left the laggards to sink. The English ships still continued to follow the fleeing Armada, although they were but poorly supplied with provisions. They pur- sued the Spaniards as far as Dunbar, and then finding that the enemy passed by the Firth of Forth, and that there seemed to be no chance whatever of their putting into any Scotch port. Lord Howard was reluctantly compelled to return for more supplies. It was a bitter, bitter disappointment to see the Armada once again elude his grasp. Once more, and for the third and last time, the Armada escaped, simply because the English ships were so ill supplied. At the time of returning they had but three days' rations on board. Howard beat back to the Thames, the vessels so admirably fitted out 5 12 HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND. and equipped by Sir John Hawkins standing the strain splendidly. The Flying Armada. But it was far otherwise with the miserable Armada. Out of the hundred and fifty proud vessels which had sailed so majestically out of Ferrol Bay in the glad sunlight of the summer morning, thirty already were gone (some accounts state forty), and of the one hundred and twenty remaining, many were so shattered that it seemed hardly possible for them to weather another gale. So many men were ■wounded that each ship seemed like a hospi- tal, and every day the sad ceremony took place of sinking the dead in the shotted hammock shroud. As they passed round the coast of Cromarty and came to the north of Scotland, a great storm burst upon them, and the huge gal- leons rolled so much in the wild sea that no boat could be lowered. Sail after sail was split to tatters by the furious wind ; masts weakened by the shot fell with a crash, and hanging overboai-d cumbered the vessels and made them still more unmanageable. The ships became scattered; next morning they had lost sight of each other. This was on the 20th of August, and it was three days before they became in some measure reunited. Their position was indeed miserable ; in a ■wild and unknown sea, their vessels battered by shot and tossed by the fierce wind, anchors lost, hulls riddled with holes, masts and rigging gone, and crews decimated by war and sickness, their misery was extreme. They now made for the coasts of Connaught and Kerry, hoping to find some kind friends among the Romanists of the west of Ireland, But wild western storms came on again, and they were exposed to the full fury of the At- lantic. For a dozen days they were driven about hither and thither, able only to com- municate by signals, and each one sailing by itself. Deluged with rain and battered by the tremendous billows and fierce winds, one after the other gave up, and, with rudder torn away, either sunk in the raging sea or drifted to the rock-bound shore where the surf cease- lessly breaks on a wild beach ; and those of the men who escaped the perils of shipwreck were massacred by the wild Irish peasantry for the sake of plunder, or executed by order of the English governors of Limerick and Tralee, who feared a Spanish- Irish rising in the west, and but imperfectly knew of the defeat of the Armada in the Channel. Ship after ship touched at several Irish ports and seaside villages begging for water. Pipes of wine, rich silver plate, casks of golden doubloons were offered for a little water, but everywhere refused. The fear of the English prevailed, and no Irish mayor or sheriff dared to run the risk of the gallows. Of the scores of Spaniards that were flung ashore when the ships were wrecked, all were murdered or died in prison except one, a nobleman, whose friends were expected to pay a rich ransom for him. The rocks of the Orkney Isles, of the Faroes, of Arran, of Mull, of the whole of that ter- rible shore which breaks the fury of the Atlantic on the west of Ireland, and of the dreaded Blaskets were strewn that stormy ] autumn with a rich sea-wrack which the savage wreckers of those wild days seldom found : chests of Spanish doubloons, the gold and silver plate of haughty Dons, casks of wine, heavy cannon, and timber enough to build a respectable fleet, — all were cast here ashore. And more dismal wreckage besides, for on the shore near Sligo more than eleven hundred corpses were counted in one day as the dead cast up by the sea ; while between Giant's Causeway and the Blaskets over eight thousand are computed to have per- ished ; about eleven hundred were officially executed as the Queen's enemies, while over three thousand fell before the swords of the Irish wreckers. The Return Home. Early in October, fifty-three shattered ships, with ragged sails, torn rigging, and leaking sides, half-manned by a few toil-worn, diseased, exhausted seamen, crawled one by one into Santander, Corunna, and other Spanish ports, the miserable remnant of that splendid fleet which a few months before had set forth so proudly from the Tagus. Ninety- eight large vessels had perished, either by the shot of the enemy or the fury of the ■waves, while upwards of fourteen thousand men had fallen in action with the English fleet or had died from sickness or from shipwreck. The defeat was a terrible blow to Spain. It was a national disaster ; nearly every family was in mourning, and the signs of personal sorrow appeared on every face. An universal cry of bitter grief went up from the land. The Duke of Medina Sidonia im- mediately on his landing retired to his house in the depths of the country, and refused to see any one ; his heart was sick with the humiliation of defeat and dishonour. And the sorrow was the greater inas- much as it was reaction from the joy felt at the first news of triumphant victory. For in those July days it was industriously spread abroad that the dreaded Drake had been beaten, that he was a prisoner, that the Eng- lish ships had been all destroyed, that the Armada was in Portsmouth and Parma in London. All kinds of reports filled the air, but everybody agreed that the turbulent English, the " hens of heretics " were beaten at last. But a few more days and the notes of joy and triumph were turned to weeping ^M EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY, and wailing. The news came (of course ex- aggerated) of the action off Portland, of the midnight affair with the fire-ships, of the disaster at Gra valines, and of the flight through the Straits, Then came days and weeks of prolonged uncertainty, filled with the agony of suspense ; then came home the shattered remnant with the sick seamen, of whom many died after landing ; and then the mourning for those who never would return. The priests and strong supporters of the Pope explained the wrath of heaven by saying that the earthly designs of Philip to annex England to his crown had spoiled the spirituality of the enterprise ; and that if he had been content to win the heretic island for the Pope alone, without doubt he would have succeeded. Others maintained that Drake and Howard and Frobisher were devils incarnate, and that mortal man could not stand against them ; while there were those again who blamed Medina Sidonia and Parma. " Who could stand against such storms?" said Philip when he received the news. " I sent my ships against men, not against the wild seas." All kinds of mendacious stories were circulated throughout Europe to cover the Spaniards' defeat ; and concerning these Strype tells us that Sir Francis Drake wrote, — " They were not ashamed to publish in sundry languages in print great victories in words which they pretended to have obtained against this realm, and spread the same in a most false sort over all parts of France, Italy, and elsewhere ; when, shortly after- wards, it was happily manifested in every deed to all nations, how their navy, which they termed invincible, . . . were by thirty of Her Majesty's own ships of war, and a few of our own merchants, by the wise, valiant, and advantageous conduct of the Lord Charles Howard, High Admiral of England, beaten and shuffled together even from the Lizard in Cornwall, first to Portland, where they shamefully left Don Pedro de Valdez with his mighty ship ; from Portland to Calais, when they lost Hugh de Mongado, with the galley of which he was captain ; and from Calais, driven with squibs from their anchor, were chased out of the sight of England, round about Scotland and Ireland. Where, for the sympathy of their religion, hoping to find succour and assistance, a great part of them were crushed against the rocks, and those others that landed, being very many in number, were, notwithstanding, broken, slain, and taken. . . . With all their great and terrible ostentation, they did not in all their sailing round about England so much as sink or take one ship, bark, pinnace, or cockboat of ours, or even so much as burn one sheep-cote on this land." Like the Spanish soldiers who returned home to die, many of the brave English seamen also died of disease and semi-starva- tion when the excitement of the defence was over. Hundreds of poor fellows were taken ashore and died in the streets of Margate and other places on the coast. Drake and Howard and other officers opened their purses freely to supply their needs, for not medicine, good food, or wages would Eliza- beth supply. Only about fifty Englishmen were killed in action with the Spaniards, but they died by hundreds a few days after on the shores of the island they had so bravely saved. It is sad to read these details, and learn that the lustre of the great victory was thus marred by the needless death of the brave men who won it. But the work accomplished by those half-starved and ragged seamen lived after them. T-heir victory was one of the most momentous the world has ever seen. It broke the power of the Romanist despotism over Europe, and gave free play to the progressive intelligence of Protestantism. Spain, which for so long a time had held the greater part of Europe in her bigoted and blighting clutch, received a blow from which she never afterwards really rallied. Philip's next attempt in Ireland failed miserably, and Parma was obliged to retire discomfited from the Netherlands. English ships chased galleon after galleon from the ocean, and slowly the great empire broke in pieces. And while the naval supremacy of Spain declined, that of England increased ; she became at once one of the powers of the world. The statesmen of Europe saw that hence- forth the " heretic island " would have to be reckoned with. There was no longer a fear of her becoming a mere appanage of Spain or France. She who had beaten the Armada could no longer be lightly con- sidered. Moreover, her trade penetrated everywhere, her colonies were planted on every soil, and her flag became supreme on every sea. Thus to the wise ministers of Elizabeth, to Francis Drake and his brave colleagues, and to those ragged, half-starved seamen who beat the Spaniards and then lay down to die, we owe it in some measure that our beloved land rose to the proud position of a Great Power of the world, the Mother of Free Nations, and the Sovereign of the Seas. F. M. H. 544 Signing the Covenant. BIBLE AND SWORD: THE STORY OF CLAVERHOUSE AND THE COVENANTERS The Mad, Roaring Time— A happy Martyr— Nicodemus— The Cabbage-woman's Stool— The Covenants of 1638 and 1643 —Prince Charles swallows them— Character of Archbishop Sharp —The Drunken Act— Sandy Peden's Farewell- Tricks on the new Curates— The greatest Drunkard of his Age— Lauderdale's shock Head— The Scots Mile Act— A Martial Student of Quevedo— Spotting the Absentees— Four " Honest Men"— Turner in his Nightgown— Turning a Turner— The Fight at Rullion Green— The Torture of the Bjots— Ephraira Macbriar at the Scaffold— The " Honest" Hangman of Irvine— The Forty Dumb Dogs— Cruelties of Dalziel— Act against Conventicles— The Highland Savages brought down— Appearance of "Bloody Clavers "—Magus Moor— Defeat of Claverhouse at Drumclog— His Horse pitchforked— Bothwell Bridge— A dreadful Ship»vre:k -The Cameronians— Given over to Satan— 'The Killing Time— F.xecution of Women— The Wigtown Female Martyrs— The True Story of John Brown— Graham's own Confession. The Coming of the Merry Monarch ; Execution of Ja.aies Guthrie. TIFF-NECKED Scotland— persist- ing, as Caiiyle has expressed it, in her own most hide-bound formula of a Covenanted Charles Stuart — was thrown into a state of delirious joy by the news of the arrival of the Merry Monarch in England on the 29th of May, 1660. The roar of cannon and the blaze of tar barrels echoed and gleamed over the country ; everywhere there was loud and demonstrative rejoicing ; ladies 545 NN EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and gentlemen even indulged in the dance in the exuberance of triumph ; and one young lord, touched with the fervour of a spinning dervish or marabout, vi^as only held back by strong arms from tossing his rings, chains, jewels, and all that was precious about him into the fire. But there were some who were still stiff- necked enough to dote upon the Covenants in that mad, roaring time — so-called Remon- strants or Protesters, extreme Presbyterians, who saw nothing worth living for but to stamp their " pure and spotless " church polity over the whole land — who had a fervid way of moving heaven and earth to that end in prayers, sermons, petitions, and pamphlets. Patrick Gillespie, who held the pen to the royal scapegrace in 1650, and Samuel Ruther- ford, who had a passion for the tropes and figures of the vSong of Solomon, and wrote a book against tyrants, entitled " Lex Rex," were the burning and shining lights of this small but loud party. In August a dozen of them were seized in Edinburgh, while concocting some wholesome advice for the benefit of the royal rake about the ceremonies of his chapel, and an honest but imprudent reminder of his former solemn approval of the Covenants. They were shut up in the castle ; they were threatened with a process of treason ; they remained as inflexible as adamant on the point that they had a right to petition. One of them, the Reverend James Guthrie, was specially detested by General Middleton, the King's chief Scottish adviser, a fierce military upstart who had followed war as his trade since boyhood. The untamable tongue of the minister of Stirling might do a deal of mischief yet, if it were allowed to wag, for he was little more than forty years of age. Banishment was the severest penalty hitherto imposed on preachers for their opinions. But this man had been the author of papers full of " damnable and execrable " slanders against the Royal Martyr and other crowned heads, and had " let fly at the King " in his sermons ten years before. In February he was indicted for treason, fought his own battle, and was condemned to death. He received the sentence with a light heart. It had long been the wish of his life to die a martyr. In the streets of Edinburgh he had once had a vision of this blessed consum- mation. On the 1st of June, 1661, in the same week that saw Argyll's head fall, he suffered martyrdom. He discoursed from the ladder for an hour with as much composure as if he were only delivering one of his usual sermons. " I take God to record upon my soul I would not exchange this scaffold," he cried, " with the palace or mitre of the greatest prelate in Britain." When the napkin was laid upon his face, he lifted it and shouted, " The Cove- nants, the Covenants, shall yet be Scotland's rejoicing ! " With the words of the aged Simeon on his lips he was executed. His "dying testimony" was preserved as sweet and precious. When his head was cut off to be spiked on one of the city gates, the body was tenderly dressed in church by a number of ladies, who dipped their handker- chiefs in the blood and carried them away as precious memorials to be held up to heaven in their invocations. There was another remai'kable incident at this strange scene. " There came in a pleasant young gentleman^ and poured out a bottle of rich ointment on the body, which filled the whole church with a noble perfume." Weeks after, it was said^ drops of blood fell from the withered head on the cover of Middleton's coach, and no- art of man could wipe them out. This infamous execution failed to raise in Scotland anything like universal indignation ; partly because the Presbyterian camp had long been divided into two parties that were ready to fly at each other's throat, and partly because there had arisen a new generation) which rebelled against the social tight-lacing of the Commonwealth, But it sounded the key- note of the policy of the Stuarts ; and vv^e shall see hovv, step by step, the faithful adherents of the Covenants were " cabined, cribbed,, confined," until at last they rose in arms, were butchered and banished, gave the Stuarts over to Satan, and were shot down remorse- lessly by the dragoons of Claverhouse in the wilds ol Ayr and Galloway. Jenny Geddes ; The Covenants. Blunder after blunder had been committed by the Scottish Solomon and the " Royal Martyr" in their attempts at the personal government of democratic Scotland. King James, once seated on the English throne^ sought to thrust prelacy upon his native country, although he had at one time as- sured the Presbyterians of Scotland that they possessed the purest Church on earth. When some distasteful doctrines were about to be ratified in the Black Parliament of 162 1, and the King's commissioner rose to touch the Act with the tip of the sceptre, a vivid flash of lightning, then a second and a third, gleamed through the window, amid loud claps of thunder ; a storm of hail and rain swept across the northern metropolis, and the streets ran like rivers. Many declared that the wrath of heaven had descended on a deed so impious ; other readers of God's judgments likened the omen to the majestic sanctions of Sinai. In the time of the first Charles, an old woman in Edinburgh, named Jenny Geddes, rose up in church one summer day, and hurled her stool at a surpliced dean who was about to read Laud's liturgy, shouting out the immortal words, " Villain, dost thou say the 546 BIBLE AND SWORD. mass at my lug ? " This was not, as Charles fondly thought, but the idle and foolish word of a scolding virago : the whizz of that cabbage-woman's chair across the Kirk of St. Giles was a symbol and prelude of the wrath of Scotland which drove the tyrant from his throne. Nobles, gentlemen, ministers, and the people erected tables in an Edinburgh churchyard (1638), and there, and all over the excited country, signed, sometimes with their own blood, a document known as the National Covenant, abjuring prelacy and binding its subscribers to stand up for their own religion and Presbyterian government. The foolish King marched with an English (to them a foreign) army against the cove- nanters, the historic name of those who main- tained that the sovereign had no right to dictate to assemblies on religious matters ; but " old crooked " Leslie waited for him at Duns Law with the blue banner ; and in the next year the blue-bonneted "Jockies" sent his riff-raff redcoats flying in a panic at Newburn. The Solemn League and Covenant (1643) was another memorable document. In this the parliaments of England and Scotland joined hands for the mutual defence of the true religion, and for the extirpation of popery and prelacy in England, Scotland, and Ire- land. King Charles would not accept it after his surrender to the Scottish forces in 1646. He was accordingly given over to the tender mercies of the English Parliament, and, as all the Avorld knows, the " royal martyr," de- nounced by his foes as "tyrant, traitor, mur- derer, and public enemy," was beheaded on the 30th day of January, 1649. The Farce that closed with a Tra- gedy ; Prince Charles accepts the Covenants. The merry monarch, who "never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one," acted in 1650 one of the most selfish farces on record. It is ludicrous if we contrast the secret grimaces of the young scapegrace with the grim countenances and credulous loyalty of the Scotsmen who gazed on him, but tragic when we view it in the fierce light of the coming years and see the faithless de- bauchee — a secret papist— thrust episcopacy into the pulpits of Scotland, and in clearest breach of his vow to the patriots who fought and bled for him against Cromwell, suffer and prescribe them to be eaten out of house and home, fined, plundered, imprisoned, sent into slavery, hunted to their holes and shot down as vermin. On the i6th day of August the clever prince, then twenty years of age, was in the tiny city of Dunfermline, the ancient residence of many of his pre- decessors. Before him was spread out a "most remarkable" document, containing things that were "doubtless of hard diges- tion." The lad expresses deep contrition before God for his father's opposition to the cause of the Scottish Church and for the idolatry of his esteemed mother ; declares that he had sworn to the Covenants, not " upon any sinister and crooked design, for attaining his own ends, but so far as human weakness will permit, in the truth and sincerity of his heart ; " and promises to extirpate po- pery, prelacy, and all schisms from every part of his dominions. The Rev. Patrick Gillespie held out the pen, appealing to him not to sign the paper, no not for three kingdoms, if he could not do so with his soul and con- science. But Charles "could swallow any- thing," as occasion demanded. "Mr. Gillespie, Mr. Gillespie, I am satisfied, I am satisfied," he exclaimed, and signed the indigestible docu- ment. We do not wonder that Charles in later days often spoke with bitter jest of his un- fortunate Scottish trip, and maintained that Presbytery was no religion for a gentleman. The Primate Sharp ; The Drunken Act; "Auld Sandy's" Farewell. Scotland, Guthrie's execution showed, was not to have the theocracy, the New Jeru- salem, of the Protesters. But still most of the ministers were not attached to this party ; they were "sober" Presbyterians ; and Charles assured them in 1660 that the Scottish Church would remain as it had been settled by law. He kept his word, but in a strange way. The "terrible parliament" of 1661 acted as if its members had just risen from a drunken bout : the Covenants were condemned as illegal ; all Acts since 1633 were swept away ; the royal supremacy in Church and State was declared ; the settlement of the Church's government was pronounced an inherent right of the Crown. The Scottish courtiers hastened to the scramble in London. In the teeth of the covenanting Lauderdale and others, Charles declared for prelacy : publicly he branded the Presbyterian Church as violent and hos- tile to the royal prerogative, out of harmony with the Churches of England and Ireland ; privately he said it was no religion for a gentleman. James Sharp, the man whom the Scottish ministers had trusted as their own souls to manage their affairs at Court, was offered the honour of primate, and dishonour- ably accepted it. Scotland was rolled back to where she stood in 1637. " Take it, and the curse of God with it,"' the gentle Robert Douglas is reported to have said as he clapped Sharp's shoulder and shut the door. And the curse did come. He shared with Middleton, Lauderdale, Mac- kenzie, Dalziel, Lagg, and Clavers, the fierce obloquy of the covenanters. He was called a monster of hypocrisy, perjury, and vileness. He was the murderer of his own child of 547 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. shame, and had buried the innocent babe under the hearthstone. He was a sorcerer ; an old woman saw him closeted with the Prince of Darkness after midnight. Such was the mud thrown at him. Yet James Sharp had his small virtues. His friend Cromwell had called him " Sharp of that Ilk." We have admired his beautiful penmanship. His early letters, too, have the flavour of a graceful piety. The perfume quickly evaporated under the sunshine of royal smiles. He was a despot's tool, and, like the proverbial beggar, rode at full gallop. Nature had destined him for an attorney's clerk ; and in a few years some wild Scotsmen stabbed him hor- ribly on Magus Moor, after they had prayed long and often and had heard the voice of God. The covenants were burned and caricatured. Patronage, which had been abolished in 1649, was restored. Ministers who had been in- stalled since that date by popular election were to be presented by the patrons and col- lated by the bishops ; they were to observe the 29th of May as the royal anniversary ; they and all persons in public trust were to sign a declaration against the covenants. It was thought that this last would finish the career of Lauderdale ; Stair boggled at it, but the earl laughed, and declared that he would sign a careful of such oaths before he would lose his place. Some ministers, like Donald Cargill and John Livingstone, who preached with Pentecostal fervour and suc- cess, would not celebrate the anniversary because they disliked all holy days, and would not take the oath of allegiance as it was expressed ; they were summoned before the Council and banished beyond the Tay or into foreign lands The Council— the Star Chamber of Scotland — went into the west, and learned that the bishops were mere ciphers. The "Drunken Act" of Glasgow banished all ministers from their houses, parishes, and presbyteries who did not re- ceive collation by a certain day. Three hundred and fitty ministers refused to yield to the mandate of the " Drunken Coun- cil." The peasants of the west and south, clad in black and white plaids and scarlet mantles, or in suits of hodden grey, flocked in thousands to listen to the farewell sermons of their devoted pastors. Perhaps the strangest of all these partings was that of " Old Sandy" Peden, of Glenluce, the Thomas the Rhymer of the Scottish covenanters. He is described as of diminutive stature, but with an athletic frame and elastic step ; long dishevelled hair floated on his shoulders from beneath his blue bonnet ; he had a sallow complexion and dark, penetrating eyes. His voice was shrill, but he was endowed with a fervid, ready, and homely eloquence pecuharly fitted to rivet the attention and stir the feelines of the Scottish peasant. At his farewell to his flock in Galloway, the vast multitude burst forth into sobs and tears. When the long service was closed with the benediction, the venerable seer descended from the tent with the Bible in his hands, while the slow music of a psalm rose to heaven in the twilight from thousands of lips. The hymn of praise ended in a deep silence, amid which the solemn multitude beheld their pastor lock the door of the church, and then knock thrice upon it with the back of the pulpit Bible, uttering the words, which were deemed pro- phetic : " I arrest thee, in my Master's name, that never any enter thee but such as come in at the door as I did ! " The Rise of Lauderdale. The Scottish dilution of episcopacy must not be imagined as having any doctrinal or ceremonial likeness to that of England. There was no surplice, no altar, no liturgy, no kneeling at communion, no signing with the cross in baptism ; the Confession of Faith was that of the first reformers ; there were kirk sessions, presbyteries, and synods. But the spirit of the evil thing was in it. There were lay patrons instead of the divine call of the people ; King Charles had taken the supremacy that belonged to King Jesus ; hierarchy was hierarchy, and led back the suspicious Presbyterian eye to the mediaeval iniquities of Rome. The recruits who were thrust into the churches of the ejected were far from being able to fill the shoes of their predecessors. Bishop Burnet declared they were the worst preachers he ever heard. They were the scum of the north, — ignorant, mean, violent ; some of them were addicted to swearing, drunkenness, and other vices. The people treated them with contempt : they received them with tears and begged them to be gone ; they reasoned and argued with them; they stole the clapper of the churchbell; they barricaded the doors against them ; they poured ants into their boots on the way to the pulpit. A ridiculous tumult at Irongray, near Dumfries, where John Welsh, the sturdy great-grandson of Knox had ministered, threw the Court into such alarm that it was rumoured that a huge and wild army would soon cross the Border, although the simple fact was that a number of base women had assembled in the kirk- yard and driven off the curate and a band of armed soldiers with no other weapons than the stones of the highway. The Earl of Linlithgow was sent down with three hundred soldiers to quarter in the parish, and the poor inhabitants had to pay for their whistle to the tune of half-a-crown a day for each horse- man, and a shilling for each foot-soldier. But it was impossible to gain respect for the curates. Boys would pelt them in the pulpit 548 BIBLE AND SWORD. with rotten sticks and accompany them home with cheers, while men plundered their houses by night. On one occasion three men in female disguise entered a minister's dwelling, dragged him out of bed, and robbed his trunks. Middleton was soon hurled down from the giddy height where he had spread out his gay plumes, and was succeeded as King's Commissioner bv the young and witty Earl Although he had the saintly Baxter for a chaplain, and was deeply read in theology, he remained a profligate. He scarcely looked a courtier ; he was a huge, uncouth man, with a bloated face and wildly flowing red hair. He spluttered and slobbered people with whom he talked, and was subject to insane fits of temper. But he had a coarse and ready wit, and could fiddle before Saul ; he once danced in a petticoat before the melan- Jennv Geddes hurls the Stool at the Head of the Surpliced Dean. of Rothes, the most consummate drunkard in that age of hard drinking. He had the reputation of being able to drink two or three relays of his friends dead drunk, and after a few hours' sleep wake up as fresh as a daisy. But the man who stepped into Middleton's place in the Merry Monarch's counsels was the notorious John, Earl (afterwards Duke) of Lauderdale. In the words of Hudibras, — "He had cunning to unravel The very mysteries of the devil." choly Charles. For yeai's and years the poor covenanters had faith in this Machia- velli, even while he ruled them with a rod of iron. But Scotland was capable of breeding worse men than him. After him came the deluge of blood under Perth and Queensberry. Origin of the Rebellion. Many of the ejected ministers continued to preach and administer the sacraments in private houses or in the fields, and the people 549 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. flocked out of their own parishes, sometimes to a great distance, to attend the minis- trations of the old pastors whom the Acts had not expelled. Stricter measures were therefore put in force by the Parhament and Council in 1663. It was declared sedition for nonconformist ministers to exercise their calling ; they were ordered to remove with their families to a distance of at least twenty miles from their former parishes, and were forbidden to reside within three miles of any royal burgh ; and finally the people were commanded, under the penalty of sedition, not to extend charity to any of these ejected ministers. Those who dared to regularly disobey these persecuting orders by absenting themselves from the parish church were fined in a fourth of their revenue or possessions. Chiefly at the instigation of Sharp, the Court of High Commission was established, composed of nine prelates and twenty-five nobles ; it had the power of in- flicting any punishment short of death, and officers of the army and militia were em- powered to apprehend delinquents and bring them before this odious tribunal. Had measures such as these, not only inconsistent with the simplest principles of liberty but proceeding from an upstart party which had prostituted itself to the will of a " divine right " despot in the face of the history of the Scottish nation, been simply brtita fulmina., they might have been passed by without notice ; but far from being a mere dead letter, they were brought down upon the shoulders of the people with brutal force. Gentlemen of high position were suddenly apprehended without any specific charge and detained in prison for years ; lairds and ministers were burdened with fines, — sometimes as high as ^500 sterling,— thrown into wretched dungeons, and banished into remote towns, or even to the Shetland Isles ; the miserable gaols were crowded with prisoners, some of whom petitioned to be shipped off to the Barbadoes ; a woman was whipped through the public streets ; men were banished to Virginia. The Commission even condescended to scourge some naughty boys, and after brand- ing them in the face with a hot iron, sent them off" to the slavery of the Indies. Masters were declared responsible for their servants and landlords for their tenants. A small military force was dispersed over the southern districts, under the direction of Sir James Turner, a man who had served since boyhood on the battle-field, and was " naturally fierce, but quite a madman when drunk, and that was very often ; " although we learn from his Memoirs that he was also a student of Tasso and Quevedo, and wrote extensively on military and other sub- jects. The curate in many of the parishes was accustomed, like a pedagogue, to call out the names of his parishioners on Sunday after sermon, and hand over the list of absentees to the soldiers. In the families where they quartered, the graceless soldiers ridiculed that private worship of the house- hold which has been so nobly pictured in the Cottafs Satnrday Night; they beat and dragged unwilling folks to church and prison ; they resorted to the neighbourhood of the churches of the old ministers, and when they heard the music of the last psalm, stalked from their cups to the doors of the sacred buildings, and " spotting " those who were not residents of the parish, fined them off-hand, or seized what money they had, carrying off Bibles, coats, and plaids from the poor men and women who had no money to pay the fine of 2od. sterling. When neither the widow nor the orphan was spared, when starving children saw their bread tossed to the dogs, when furniture was sold or burned, when the poor were compelled to beg in order to pay these exactions, and when at last the army was increased to three thousand men and placed under the command of the fierce soldier Dalziel of Binns, who was believed to have acquired in Muscovy the habit of roasting captives, no other course was left open for the desperate objects of this abomi- nable and petty persecution but — rebellion. Rout of Covenanters at Rullion Green. One November morning in 1666, as the story goes, four "honest men," who had been driven from their homes to wander among the morasses and mountains, were sitting in a village alehouse in one of the southern counties, when they heard that Turner's soldiers were stripping a poor old man pre- paratory to roasting him on a red-hot grid- iron. Their blood was stirred, and hastening to the scene, they disarmed the ruffians. Although this was but a simple and sudden blow in defence of an outraged man, they surmised, and perhaps justly, that their life was now imperilled ; and thus the second and bolder step was taken of assembling a few neighbours, and surprising a dozen other soldiers quartered in the district, one of whom was unfortunately slain. That story may perhaps be true, but it is very doubtful. Turner himself, who already had an inkling of a widespread insurrection, was alarmed by the appearance at the garrison in Dumfries Castle of a corporal who had been shot in the abdomen because he would not take the Covenant, and immediately despatched orders to gather in the soldiers who were scattered in small par ties over the country. But the order was too late ; the Covenanters, aroused by the oppressionofsoldiery,had gathered withintwo days into a company of one hundred and fifty 550 BIBLE AND SWORD. horse and foot. Armed with muskets, pistols, swords, pikes, scythes, pitch-forks, and stout cudgels, they marched towards Dumfries, — some twenty miles distant from the village alehouse, — and about nine o'clock in the morning of the 15th of November, sur- rounded the house where Turner lay with -only a dozen men. He appeared at the window in his night-gown, and was ordered downstairs if he had any respect for his life. In this condition he was led out into the street, with swords and pistols ominously presented to his breast, but was afterwards taken back to dress himself in more becom- ing raiment. With rueful face he saw his ilinen, clothes, papers, arms, and horses carried off, and, worst of all, the great bags of money which he had been at the pains of gathering from the stift'-necked "fanatics." The rebels proceeded to the cross, and with ironical loyalty pledged the healtla of King Charles and prosperity to his government. Picking up recruits, horses, and arms by the way, the rebels marched north-west into Ayrshire, through the wild moorland district that was in a few years to be strewn with the corpses of the Cameronians. They carried Turner and his little drummer with them ; .they subjected the martial student of Ouevedo £0 the grim joke of being lectured for a whole night on the ghastly topic of death ; several divines tried to convert him, but he declared it would be a hard task to "turn a Turner." Striking eastward, they arrived at Lanark on the Sabbath evening ; and there on the next day the whole army held up their hands towards heaven, vowing to stand up for the Covenants. The army — which numbered at least eleven hundred men, al- though writers on the covenanting side have placed it at three thousand — was no weak and disorderly rabble, but a host of stalwart men, mostly trained to martial exercise, and with splendid staying power for marching. They were the pick of Scotland, as the High- iand Jacobites learned at the Revolution, and the like of them may be seen at this day in Ayr and Galloway, — a big-boned, sincere, thoughtful, stubborn set, of which Thomas Carlyle of Ecclefechan is the nineteenth- century representative. Even Turner's hostile eye could not help admiring them. Knowing that the royal troops under the Muscovite roaster were at their heels, those sturdy cove- nanters marched from Lanark in the mire and snow all through a stormy night, passed Edinburgh just out of the range of the Castle guns, and halted at Cohnton, on the heights two miles above the city. They were deeply disappointed. The fertile plains of the Lothians did not smile upon their cause ; the gates of the metropolis were closed against them. On the morning of the 2Sth November they turned their faces sadly, determinedly, southwards, along the base of the Pentland Hills. Their leader. Colonel Wallace, halted at a spot known as RuUion Green, to meet the forces of Dalziel, which had marched through a pass of the Pentlands, and now appeared on the heights above him. The day had been bright and sunny, and twilight was approaching. Wallace had only a remnant of nine hundred men, badly rationed and jaded with long marches, some of them armed only with pitchforks and cudgels. His hope lay in the descent of night. Two charges were made upon his troops by a part of the royal forces, and were repulsed ; the sun had fallen when Dalziel himself ad- vanced with his foot, flanked by the cavalry. This time the right wing of the rebel host was broken, a flank charge was made upon the main body, and the peasants were com- pletely routed. In vain they had fought a desperate struggle, in vain were the shouts of the ministers, " The God of Jacob, the God of Jacob ! " More than fifty were slaughtered, and as many taken prisoners. Many were murdered by the country-people after their escape from the battle-field. The Martyrdom of Hugh Mackail; An "Honest" Hangman. Not content with hanging numbers in Edinbugh, and before their own doors in the far-off districts, — on the scarecrow prin- ciple, — sticking their heads on the gates of different towns, and their hands on those of Lanark, Sharp and his coadjutors on the Council singled out two of the conspirators for torture by the " boots," a cylindrical in- strument between which and the leg wedges were driven until the marrow started from the bone. This terrible course was not resorted to from sheer cruelty ; there was a very strong suspicion that these paltry rebels had great friends behind them. Tyrants are ever trembling. It was believed that those cove- nanting ministers and peasants were in league with Holland for the overthrow of Charles. The death of the young minister Mackail — he was only twenty-six — has always re- mained one of the most prominent and affect- - ing incidents of the covenanting period. He was the prototype of Scott's " Ephraim Mac- briar." Torture and confinement had thrown him into a fever, so that he was unable to stand when the day of trial came. About a week later he was brought up, found guilty by the jury of treasonable rebellion, and sentenced to be hanged in four days at the cross of Edinburgh. His petition for a reprieve, on the ground that he had deserted the rebels " with the first conveniency," was rejected by the Privy Council. At two o'clock on the 22nd of December, he and five others were carried to the scaffold. At the 551 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. foot of the ladder, with a calm and pleasant countenance, he harangued the people against " that abominable plant prelacy, the bane of the throne and of the country." Many wept while he sang and prayed. On the top of the ladder he sat down, and declared his belief that the blood of the victims lay at the door of the prelates rather than of the nobles and rulers. He embraced the fatal noose as the hangman placed it round his neck. He read aloud the glowing picture of heaven in the last chapter of the Bible, and spoke of the welcome that awaited him among the hosts of the New Jerusalem. Even when the napkin was put over his face, with a theatrical self-consciousness that makes one shudder even now, he raised it and expressed the hope that the bystanders had seen no alteration in his face or manner. " Farewell father and mother," he cried, " friends and relations ; farewell the world and all delights ! farewell meat and drink ; farewell sun, moon, and stars ! welcome God and Father ; welcome sweet Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant ; welcome Blessed Spirit of grace, and God of all con- solation ; welcome glory ; welcome eternal life ; welcome death !" The charm of bravery like that of the young Roscius of the Covenant spread far and wide over the land. Stories of the time — possibly exaggerated— prove that the very lowest strata of society were moved as they could have been in no other countiy than Scotland, where the passion for religious metaphysics and Bible knowledge had become an inherited and ineradicable instinct. When Charles returned to England, every Scottish parish had a minister, every village a school, and every family a Bible. It would appear that in those days even the men whose business it was to perform the duty of Ketch, wielded logic-choppers on the knotty questions of theology. The hangman of Ayr refused to imbrue his hands in the blood of eight men who were condemned for "treason." The poor ignorant Highlander from the distant wilds of Strathnaver, who acted as hangman in the neighbouring town of Irvine, also declined the work, was sent to prison, was compelled to go to Ayr under a military escort, was reasoned with from Scripture by a curate whom he looked on as the devil's advocate, was threatened with the "boots," — he told them to bring the spurs too, — was ready to hold out his hands for the contents of a cruse of melting lead, stood the wheed- ling of Lord Kelly, was offered fifty dollars and liberty to retire to the Highlands, was clapped in the stocks, opened his breast to receive the contents of four muskets, was threatened with being rolled up and down in a barrel filled with iron spikes ; but all failed, and the obdurate hangman was finally ex- 552 empted from the task of " taking good men's lives." The sentence of the commissioners had to be carried out. It was accomplished by offering his life to one of the condemned men, and keeping him drunk until the deed was done. Persecution after Pentland ; The Forty Dumb Dogs ; Terrible Act AGAINST Field-preaching. Ample vengeance was taken on scores of those who had joined in the Pentland rising ; twenty or thirty landed proprietors and min- isters, who fled abroad or wandered through the country as pariahs, were condemned in their absence to forfeiture of Hfe and fortune ; the country curates in the infected districts — if we might so term them — of the south and west were goaded on by Sharp to spy upon their flocks ; and the flocks in return looked on their pastors not as shepherds but as wolves. Even the most eager advocates in modern times of the policy of Sharp, assuming the actual existence of a conspiracy in concert with the Dutch government, and pointing to the bad example of persecution set by the covenanters in previous years, admit that the severities which followed Rullion Green did "little honour either to the clemency or the wisdom of His Majesty's Government." All the instances of horrid cruelty set forth by partisans may not be true, and indeed are not ; still, making full discount, we cannot hesitate in charging the Scottish Council with the most heinous and reckless prostitution of justice, in sending down such military monsters as Dalziel and Sir William Bannatyne to act as agents in the repression or spiteful punish- ment of an insurrectionary spirit, which as yet had uttered not one word of treason against Charles, at least had not been proved to have done so, but merely declared against the method of his administration. On the principle that there is no smoke where there is not fire, we must take for granted that beneath the terrible traditions that have de- scended to us there are terrible facts. Had there been, as there is now, a free parliament through which the nation coiild speak with one certain and collected voice, those broad- shouldered and conscientious men of the south and west of Scotland would not have dreamed of marching with their pitch-forks and cudgels towards Edinburgh ; but the spirit of toleration was as yet only in its birth-throes, and neither party — despot king nor despot democrats — stood on the platform of social equity. Dalziel took up his head-quarters at Kilmarnock after the victory of Pentland ; and another officer of equally savage instincts was sent to Galloway with a considerable party of soldiers. The former is said to have BIBLE AND SWORD. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. extorted 50,000 merks from the district of his ravages, to have kept suspected persons standing continually on their feet, night and day, in the " thieves' hole ; " to have shot down a man who refused to inform whom he saw at Lanark ; and one of his subordinates is accused of having seized two men who had given a night's shelter to some of the Pent- land rebels, and hanging them by the thumbs on a tree. The conduct of Bannatyne and his soldiers was marked by equal if not greater licentiousness, rapine, and barbarity ; they are accused of holding lighted matches for hours between the fingers of a woman who had assisted her husband to escape in female attire, and of practising the savage joke of roasting prisoners in front of huge bonfires. What amount of truth there is in these horrid tales it may be impossible now to discover ; but certain it is that the system of extortion and confiscation carried on under the orders of government drove many into hiding in dens and caves, deserted coal-pits, and holes in the earth, while others fled abroad ; and Turner and Bannatyne had to be dismissed from their posts for the op- pressive use of the power that had been placed in their hands. After the treaty of Breda, which concluded a peace between the Dutch and British, the army was disbanded in Scotland, only two troops of horse and a company of foot being retained ; an indem- nity was granted to most of the Pentland rebels, on condition that they accepted the " bond of peace." Scores refused, and were shipped off to Virginia when caught ; but when the excitement produced by the at- tempt of a lunatic upon the life of Sharp had blown over, Lauderdale (the " L " of that famous " cabal " which went in for toleration of dissent in England) issued an Indul- gence under the royal hand in the summer of 1669, permitting the ousted pastors to re- turn to their churches and parishes, under certain restrictions. Some of the episcopal clergy presented an address against this assertion of the royal supremacy, and the Archbishop of Glasgow was deposed ; while, on the other hand, only some forty and odd Presbyterians were captured by the bait. They were contemptuously called the King's curates, and dumb dogs that could not bark. Let us observe that from this time, when Sharp had fallen into disgrace for lying, and the helm was completely in the hands of Lauderdale, the question of episcopacy was sunk liito a secondary place, and the sole and single aim of the furious statesman was to establish the royal siipi'emacy over the Church irrespective of any particular form of Church government. With this fact before us, we can readily understand how in the month of August 1670, ' the famous or infamous Act against con- 5 venticles was passed, prohibiting on pain of death all assembling in the fields for religious purposes. His Majesty, "considering that these meetings are the rendezvous of rebellion, . . . doth therefore statute . . . that whoso- ever, without license or authority, shall preach ... or pray at any of these meetings in the field, or in any house where there be more persons than the house contains, so as some of them be without doors, or who shall convocate any number of people to these meet- ings, shall be punished with death and confis- cation of goods." Heavy penalties were inflicted on those who attended these irregular meetings in house or field. Ministers were sent to " chant Babel's captive song " in the strong dungeons of the Bass Rock, husbands were fined for their wives' misdoings, lesser men were forced as recruits into military service, garrisons were stationed in the mansions of gentlemen in several counties ; but still conventicles increased and multiplied. In the three years over which* the Act ex-, tended, the fines of eleven persons in a single county for such "atrocious crimes" as absence from church, attending conventicles, and dis- orderly baptisms, amounted to more than ;;{^30,ooo sterling. A second and wider In- dulgence was granted in 1672, and was ac- cepted by nearly all the ministers — Welsh, Blackadder, and Cargill being the chief ex- ceptions- Under such threats as those of death, imprisonment, and exile, conventicles were by no means suppressed, even with the aid of garrisons and spies. Men now appeared in arms to defend themselves against attack from the soldiers and militia. When the male portion of the covenanting people did not dare to be present, their wives flocked in multitudes ; and when, at last, "letters of intercommunion" were issued against a large number of ministers, gentlemen, and ladies, by which all whb harboured or conversed with conventiclers, or furnished them with meat, drink, or clothing, were declared guilty of the same crime, then, to use the words of Bishop Burnet, whose words are scarcely those of a friend to the outcasts, " many, apprehending a severe persecution, left their houses, and went about like a sort of banditti, and fell under a fierce and savage temper." Even ladies of rank were hunted from their homes, and were compelled to wander in the wilds. The Highland Host brought down TO scourge the Covenanters. Clearly there could be no terms made between the despotism of Charles and Lauderdale and the many armed bands of irreconcilables that wandered over Fife and over the south and west of Scotland, and had now dared to erect their own preaching 54 BIBLE AND SWORD. houses. Thus it came that on the 24th day of January, 1678, a host of warriors had assembled in the town of StirUng, under orders to march into the districts infected with rebelhon, with hberty to kill, wound, seize, and imprison all who offered resistance. It was a combination of the most striking nature, fit to awaken tremor even in a large and well-trained host of soldiers, not to speak of small scattered groups of peaceful peasants. Scotland had not witnessed such a sight as this since the time when the great Montrose raised the royal standard against the blue banner of the Covenant ; for here once again the ignorant and ferocious inhabitants of the glens and mountains were called away from their black cattle and their "creaghs" and their own mutual massacres to do military service in the Lowlands for a despot Stuart. There were also a couple of thousand of the militia, with several troops of horse, and a thousand regulars ; but the main body and the main menace lay in those six thousand bare-legged and stalwart caterans, who were trained to and dependent on plunder, trea- chery, and blood. There was also a multi- tude of stragglers, who were tempted to follow the invading host by the vision of rich spoil in the towns, villages, and mansions of the fertile and industrious Lowlands. The hearts of the poor savages must have been exalted with hopes of boundless wealth in the great melee that was to take place beyond the Clyde, for there was all the aspect of a glorious campaign : there were field-pieces, an immense quantity of spades, shovels, and mattocks— evidently intended for the siege of fortresses glutted with wealth ; and there were iron fetters and thumb-locks, doubtless to secure the captives and carry them off into slavery. If anything that could attach these rude barbarians to the Crown and mould them into faithful supporters of the doomed despo- tism of the Stuarts, it was to bring them down once in a while from the heath-clad hills to fight and feast in the valleys of the Sassenach. Of course there was required a show of Jaw before the savages were sent in to enjoy the banquet. The mouths of the holes, were in the first instance stopped. Noblemen, and landlords were forbidden to leave the kingdom without permission of the Council ; an Eng- lish force was brought to the border, and Irish savages — possibly kinsmen of those who in Montrose's time stole the church Bibles and the communion cloths — were collected at Belfast. All the landlords in the south and west, where the covenanting whigs flourished, were called upon within a short space of time to sign a bond, under heavy penalties, that neither they, nor their wives, bairns, tenants, cottars, tenants' wives, tenants' bairns, etc., etc., would in future attend conventicles, or harbour vagrant preachers ; they were also to surrender their arms. Still more severe was the demand that landlords and masters should not receive a tenant or servant who could not produce a certificate of having taken the bond of alle- giance. The gentlemen everywhere refused to yield to so outrageous an order. Lauder- dale, sitting at the council board, burst into one of his mad fits, bared his arms above the elbow, and " swore by Jehovah he would make them enter into those bonds." Little did the Highlanders reck about such mysterious trifles, and entering Ayrshire in the first week in February, they began to rob and ravage with the most complete indiffe- rence as to bonds, covenants, and creeds. Their one guiding principle was to make hay while the sun was shining. An audaci- ously eccentric writer declares that they exhibited "in a wonderful degree the more humane characteristics of these simple moun- taineers." We shall pass by the story of disgusting crimes, for those old covenanters had a very shocking habit of casting dirt : but what of the ;{^ 134,000 of damage suffered in Ayrshire alone during the one single month that elapsed before the " simple mountaineers " were ordered off from very shame by the government ? Did they not loot the town of Kilmarnock, and repay the hospitality of a merchant on whom some of them were quartered by breaking his ribs, plundering his house gear, carrying off the money carefully hoarded up in old stockings, and frightening his delicate wife clean out of this wicked world? Did not one of them strike a minister a fatal blow with the butt- end of a musket because the good man re- primanded them ? Is it not the case that far from finding any employment for shovels and claymores, they only discovered a people too dumbfounded to make any resistance? And when the gallant defenders of the supre- macy of King Charles over the Scottish Church turned their back on the Land of Burns, did not they carry off horses, a vast quantity of silver plate, whole webs of linen and woollen cloth, pots, pans, gridirons, and bed-clothes? On their departure a force of five thousand regular troops was sent to crush the " fanatics " ; and in this capacity we meet the name of Graham of Claverhouse. The Voice of God ; Assassination of Sharp. In the beginning of 1678 a sensation of horror passed over Scotland, because Arch- bishop Sharp had insisted on the trial and death of the lunatic who had fired a pistol at him ten years before, and who, in 1674, had confessed to the attempt on assurance of being given his life. There was a mysterious 555 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. feeling abroad — one of those deep and sullen wishes which men hide away in the corner of their heart, and which excited minds at last utter as a prophecy — that the " bloody and deceitful man" would perish in some sudden and awful manner. " He'll get a sudden and sharp off-going, and ye will be the first," said a dying minister at the beginning of April 1679 to a young gentleman, "that will take the good news of his death to heaven." At the close of March some women on the way to a field-meeting near Lanark had been robbed of their plaids and Bibles by a party of soldiers, and some men had been taken prisoners. A party of armed covenanters left the meeting in order to release their comrades, and, as was common enough in the fierce days of the persecution, a serious scuffle ensued, in which the military party was severely handled. The Council was prompted to a fresh and vigorous spurt of oppression ; and among its other applications it inflicted a person named William Car- michael on the little "kingdom" of Fife, one of the chief hot-beds of the " fanatics," in order to hunt the dissenters and intercom- muned to the earth. He was a monster of whom the world would indeed be well rid if the stories of his iniquities might be trusted. He beat children so as to make them inform against their parents, and for the same pur- pose placed lighted matches between the fingers of servants. Among his other dis- graceful customs was that of citing people on baseless charges, knowing that their con- science would not permit them to appear at such tribunals, and then stripping them of their goods because they did not present themselves in answer to his summons. A number of peasants within his jurisdiction had for weeks been accustomed to meet together, pray, and take counsel on the sub- ject of his enormities. At last God's spirit urged them to go forward. Saturday, the 3rd of May, was fixed for dealing with Car- michael, and a messenger was despatched to secure a preacher for the conventicle they resolved to hold on the following day in celebration of the deed. Carmichael, how- ever, was forewarned of some premeditated danger, and the twelve men who were told off to strike the blow at the miscreant, having made a long and eager search, at last came to the pious decision that God had remark- ably kept him out of their hands. But there was one man in that little group, the fierce Balfour of Burleigh, who was unable to believe that their counsels would come to nought. Two years before this time the minions of the spy Carstairs had fired into his house at Kinloch, while he and a little company of friends were at dinner, and they had beaten off their stealthy foes. He tad been denounced as a rebel, and had lived in exile ; but on one occasion, when he rose from prayer, the voice of heaven had called him back to Fife. He now assured his comrades that there was work for them to do. While thus they communed, a boy an- nounced to them that the archbishop's coach was coming. And there, on Magus Moor, before his daughter's eyes, the arch-enemy of the Covenant was shot and stabbed — horribly, too ; it took three-quarters of an hour to do the deed. The covenanters did not lament over his assassination ; they remem- bered the exploits of Jael, who hammered a nail into the temple of the sleeping Sisera,and- of Ehud, whose dagger was struck into the bowels of the oppressor of Israel, Eglon, King of Moab. It has often been noted as re- markable that, in spite of the most rigorous search, none of the actual participants in the work of blood were ever touched by the hand of justice. Sharp's Legacy ; The Career of Cla- VERHOUSE ; His Defeat at Drumclog. There can be no question that the primate who had now fallen in broad daylight on the open highway on Magus Moor, near St. Andrew's, was mainly responsible, so far as the higher clergy were concerned, for the small-minded and malicious cruelty of those years of persecution. Just two days before his death he had crowned his fifteen years of service as the lickspittle of a soulless despo- tism by draughting a fresh measure, empower- ing not only judges but officers to treat all as traitors who appeared at field-meetings. He was succeeded in the royal councils by a distinguished lawyer and essayist, Sir George Mackenzie, of Rosehaugh, the lord-advocate, who has been compared to the English butcher Jeffreys, but most unjustly so, al- though he held very decided opinions against the covenanters, and was in the habit of in- sulting men and women who appeared for trial with the Bible in their hand. The pro- clamation was issued ten days after Sharp's assassination. On the 29th of May, when the quiet little burgh of Rutherglen, now a thriving suburb of the city of Glasgow, was celebrating the restoration of King Charles, a band of eighty armed men, under Robert Hamilton, a young gentleman of high social connection, appeared upon the festive streets, extinguished the bonfires as signs of ty- ranny, affixed on the market cross an un- signed " Testimony " against all the " sinful and unlawful Acts emitted and executed, published and prosecuted against our cove- nanted reformation," and burned all the Acts specified in the body of the document. On Saturdaynight a body of troops marched out from Glasgow to inquire the names of 556 BIBLE AND SWORD. the men who had. thus openly defied the Government. Their commander was John Graham, of Claverhouse in Fife, whose deeds have given him a higher niche in the hatred of the Scottish peasants than even Sharp, Lauderdale, Perth, Lagg, Dalziel, or the " bloody Mackenzie," and who is to this day remembered and spoken of with horror as the " bloody Clavers." His skill and bravery were worthy of a better cause than that for which he fought and died. Lowland tradition least the possessor of a soft and handsome face, a true, thoroughbred young cavalier of thirty-four, with grace and charm to carry off the heart and hand of the daughter of a stern covenanting earl, much against the wishes of the young lady's pious parent. Through the influence of his relative, the Marquis of Mon- trose^ he was appointed, soon after his return to his native country, to the command of one of three independent troops of horse that had just been raised to crush the '' fanatics ; " The Murder of Archbishop Sharp. forgets the briUiant soldier who fell victorious at KilUecrankie, and remembers only the blood he shed, the good men he and his dragoons shot down upon the moors like partridges in the weary, lurid, and stormy sunset of the Stuart dynasty. In 1677 he had returned from Holland, after serving with some distinction under the Prince of Orange, " every inch a scholar and a gentle- man," — according to the peculiar judgment or sentiment of Sir Walter Scott, — and at and in the month of December 1678, he started for Dumfries on his first campaign, in order to act as a mild substitute for the atrocious " trevvsmen " of the Highland host. He brought to the execution of his orders the courage, the keen glance, and the organ- izing power which gain for an officer the deep attachment and confidence of his own soldiers, and at the same time the dread .ind the hatred of his foes. Hardly had he en- tered on his duties when he discovered a 557 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. building that was constructed like a byre, and passed by that name among the peasants, but was really a " meeting-house," numbers of which doubtless existed all over the south country with like furtive appellations. In March 1679 the energetic officer obtained the power of the mace as well as of the sword, with judicial sway over conventicles throughout the counties of Wigtown, Kirk- cudbright, and Dumfries. His troops were detested, watched, and attacked by the "fanatics" whenever a fair chance offered itself ; for instance, a band of his soldiers were surprised in a barn at Newmilns, in Ayrshire, at two o'clock on an April Sunday morning, two of them being slain; and quite recently, on the 29th of May, the anniversary of His Sacred Majesty, a couple of bullets found their way from a shoemaker's window to the feet of three of his dragoons who were sitting at breakfast in the house of a Falkirk bailie. On the following Saturday night, he mar- ched to Rutherglen, and sent out parties to secure those " rebels " whose names he had discovered. At a very early hour in the morning he was mounted, and with 180 men he made a circuit towards the Ayrshire border, in the hope of breaking up a great conventicle that was to be held that day on Loudon Hill, about twelve miles distant from Glasgow. The preacher had opened the service when the approach of the dragoons was intimated. The women and children were immediately (fismissed from the scene of danger ; the armed men, said to have numbered three times more than those of Claverhouse, moved two miles to the east, to the farm of Drumclog, and drew up in line of battle. When Graham came within sight of his foes, he saw that they held an advan- tageous position, with moss and pool in front ; and he could make out that their four batta- lions of foot, armed with fusils and pitchforks, and their three squadrons of horse, far out- numbered his own force. Had he known that in the host in front of him there were men whose hands had been imbrued in the blood of the primate, or who, at least, looked upon the assassination, — the cool and resolute Hackston of Rathillet, and the fierce, fanati- cal Balfour, — his martial ardour would have glowed with a double fire. He was now about to try the mettle of his dragoons for the first time in conflict with a strong body of the rebels, and he had long before de- termined that his men should fight at any odds. After an idle skirmish of two small parties,Hamilton decided onageneral engage- ment. The foot, under Hackston and William Cleland (then only eighteen years of age, and still known in Scottish annals and literature as a poet and as the leader of the Cameron- ians who retrieved the disaster of Killie- crankie by a complete victory over the red- shanks at Dunk eld in 1689) ; and the horse,, under Balfour of Burleigh, advanced steadily in the face of the foe. A volley from the whole body of the dragoons met them when they were only ten paces distant, but they halted not, and with one rush they broke up the royal troop and sent it flying in an instant from the field, defeated, thoroughly defeated. " Besides that," wrote Clavers in his despatch, when overcome with fatigue and sleepiness he reached Glasgow, " with a pitchfork they made such an opening in my horse's belly that his guts hung out half an ell, and yet he carried me off half a mile, which so dis- couraged our men that they sustained not the shock but fell into disorder. Their horse took the occasion of this, and pursued us so' hotly that we got no time to rally. I saved the standard, but lost on the place about eight or ten men, besides wounded." There is one circumstance which stains this victory. Robert Hamilton, who was a bloody fanatic and at heart a coward, finding fault with his men for giving any quarter, slew one of the " Babel's brats " on the spot with his own hand. Battle of Bothwell Bridge ; Ship- wreck OF two hundred Coven anters_ When the news of this victory was spread over the country, the scattered bands flocked in multitudes around the triumphant nucleus, and in a few days formed an army, ranging from five to ten thousand men. Clavers declared that Drumclog was the beginning of a rebellion ; the old Muscovite Dalziel growled at his subordinate for risking a conflict at such odds, as he might have known that " the ruffle of an inconsiderable party of the King's troops" would raise a formidable insurrection ; the Council was in a panic, and the King trembled. It was decided that a disinterested person should be placed in the command of the royal army, and so the fierce laird of Binns was super- seded for the time by the . Duke of Mon- mouth, who had assumed the name of Scott on his marriage to the young Scotch heiress of Buccleuch. He was despatched to the north with a small body of cavalry, and on the 22nd of June, 1679, this company, with. the troops of Clavers and others, altogether amounting to ten thousand men, was face to face at Bothwell Bridge with the five thou- sand covenanters under the nominal com- mand of Hamilton. It was most unfor- tunate for the rebels that they should have had such a leader. He was a fierce and truculent fanatic, who styled himself " poor, contemned, and every way persecuted, un- worthy, unworthy Robin Hamilton," and his piety seem.s not a little to have resembled 558 BIBLE AND SWORD. that of St. Dominic, as the great inquisitor has been recently depicted by the pen of Victor Hugo. A bitter and violent wrangle had been carried on between the extreme and moderate parties of the army, the former represented by Donald Cargill, the other by John Welsh, on the question whether the Indulgence should be denounced in their declarations. Two deputies had been sent by the latter to the camp of Monmouth, which now lay on the other side of the bridge, asking for the free exercise of reli- gion, a free parliament, and a free general assembly ; but although anxious for peace, the Duke could offer no terms but an ab- solute capitulation. While still engaged in squabbling, the two divisions of the rebel force, which seems to have formed no plan of conflict, were summoned to the sense of a common danger by the news that the great army of Monmouth was close at hand. Hackston, a converted rake and the ablest soldier of the Covenant, marched with three hundred men to defend the gate in the centre of the bridge, under which the deep current of the river Clyde swept along rapidly be- tween steep banks. There he kept his ground, driving back colunm after column of the royal troops, until his small supply of ammunition failed, and he was compelled to retire from the post he had held with the valour of a true hero, and would have held, perhaps, had Hamilton paid a little more attention to him, and less to the erection of a huge gibbet, around which cartloads of rope were piled to celebrate the pjean of victory. When Hackston, after an hour's determined resist- ance, was forced to retire from the bridge, he flew from rank to rank of the wretchedly confused mass, threatening them, pleading with them to stand their ground. Monmouth crossed the bridge. There, before him, was the hopeless, helpless mass that might have caught him as he moved over from the other bank if the covenanters had not been fight- ing between themselves, like furious dogs, over the " bone of contention." The first dis- charge of his cannon swept into the broken lines of the disorderly rabble, which had " neither the grac6 to submit, the courage to fight, nor the sense to run away." Mon- mouth had issued merciful orders at the commencement of the battle ; but the dra- goons of Claverhouse, smarting under the swift and sharp defeat they had suffered at Drumclog upon the ist of June, gave hot chase to the panic-stricken fugitives. At least four hundred fell in the brief contest and the pursuit ; but the worst incident of the tragedy lay, not on the battle-field, but in the wretched fate of many of the twelve hundred prisoners. " There cannot be any just account given of the number of the slain, because they were murdered up and down the fields, as the soldiers met them. . . > Twelve hundred surrendered prisoners on the Muir, who were not only disarmed, but stripped almost naked, and made to lie down flat on the ground, and not suffered to change that posture. And when one of them but raised himself a little, he was shot dead." Two ministers, one of whom underwent tor- ture, were executed ; five others of the Both- well prisoners were hung in chains on Magus Moor, as a peace-offering to the pale ghost of the murdered primate, and buried in i a corn-field hard by. But it must not be overlooked that these persons, who by no means appear to have been ringleaders, re- fused the bond which offered liberty to all who promised not to take up arms against the throne. The twelve hundred captives, tied two and two together, were driven from the battle-field to Edinburgh, and huddled up in that same churchyard where the Covenant was first subscribed, with wild fervour, in 1638. There they remained for months, strictly guarded by soldiers, under the open and often inclement sky of the north by day and night. Some few escaped ; some were carried off by death ; most of them were finally set free. About the middle of November, two hundred and fifty-seven of the prisoners^ many in a wretched state of health, were crammed into a ship at Leith, where they had scarcely room to turn themselves. They were destined for the plantations ; but on the loth of December, during a stormy night, when they were fastened down under the hatches, the vessel struck upon a rock on the Orkney coast, more than two hundred of those brave Scottish covenanters — the most honest and sincere stuff in all this human world — finding an end to their theo- logical and other troubles beneath the wild waves of the North Atlantic. The Cameronians ; The Declarations. After the battle of Bothwell the extreme party of the covenanters, under the ministers Cargill and Cameron, separated from the rest of the Presbyterians. They issued a series of " testimonies," beginning with the Sanquhar Declaration in June 1680, in which they utterly renounced allegiance to Charles, and his brother : the most famous and singular being the Apologetic Declaration^ issued by James Renwick, their last pastor and last martyr, in October 1684, and set up. on a number of church doors and market crosses throughout the country. In this re- markable' document war was declared against the government, its militia, soldiers, spies,, and other persecuting agents. But perhaps the most interesting of all the solemn acts ot this new government — for such it claimed to be— was that which was carried out at Tor- 559 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. wood, in Stirlingshire, in 1680, when old CargilL then the only minister that ventured to preach in the fields, did "excommunicate, cast out of the true Church, and deliver up to Satan," Charles II., James, Duke of York, James, Duke of Monmouth, the Duke of Rothes, Sir George Mackenzie, Dalziel, and John, Duke of Lauderdale, the last of these undergoing this sentence "for his dreadful blas- phemy, especially that word to the prelate of St. Andrews, ' Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool ; ' his atheistical drolling on the Scriptures of God ... for his gaming on the Lord's Day, and for his usual and ordinary cursing." The story of the persecution from the day that Cameron fell at Airdsmoss, in Ayrshire, in July 1680, and Hackston was taken prisoner, to be led to Edinburgh in ignominy and have his hands chopped off by the hang- man, tortures which he suffered quite un- concernedly, until the soft-voiced Renwick died upon the scaffold in 1688, is one of sad and dreary martyrdom — men and women even throwing away their lives without the least reluctance ; for after the Apologetic De- claration was issued, common soldiers were empowered to kill all persons in the fields, who, in the presence of two witnesses, refused to take an oath against it. The Killing Time; The Wigtown Martyrs; The True Story of John Brown. Our limits prevent us from going into details of the " killing time " in 1 684 and 1 685, when the furnace was heated seven times hotter, when the demons who scoured the country reckoned every one a fanatic, an assassin, and a rebel whom they discovered perusing a Bible, running from them, or hesi- tating in answering their questions. Writers on the covenanting side assert that eighty persons were shot down in cold blood during those two years. " Farewell," cried one of two poor, humble women who were bullied and condemned by the Council, as she stood upon the scaffold in Edinburgh Grassmarket, in 1681, — " farewell sweet Bible, in which I delighted most, and which has been sweet to me since 1 came to prison." But worse than this infamous Act — worse than all the brand- ing on the cheek, cropping of the ears, squeezing with the boots and thumbkins, was the drowning of an old woman and a young girl on the shore of the Solway Firth, on the nth of May, 1685, even after a re- spite had been asked for and granted by the Council. It must be noted most distinctly that the popular writers on the Covenant have ac- cepted stories and traditions which are based on facts, but so exaggerated and decorated as to represent Clavers and others engaged in executing the orders of the Privy Council, alias Star Chamber of Scotland, as the greatest fiends that ever dwelt in human flesh. There is one story, always quoted as the great proof of Graham's inhumanity, to which we must refer in closing — that of John Brown, the " Christian Carrier " of Muirkirk. This "pious, solid Christian" rose early on the 1st of May, 1685, and after family worship went out to work. He was surrounded by Clavers and his horsemen, and led back to his own house. He "distinctly" answered some questions that were put. " Go to your prayers," said Clavers, " for you shall imme- diately die ; " and interrupted him while he was so engaged. Brown kissed and blessed his wife and children. Clavers ordered six of his men to shoot. " What thinkest thou of thy husband now, woman ? " She replied, " I ever thought much good of him, and as much now as ever." " It were justice," he answered, " to lay thee beside him." When Graham had departed, she set the child on the ground, gathered up the scattered brains of her husband, tied up his head, covered his body with her plaid, sat down and wept over him. It so happens that a trustworthy narrative by Graham himself — in fact the military despatch — still exists. From that it appears that far from Brown being a man of peace, and ready to give "distinct" answers, he declared most emphatically that he had no king, had bullets in his house, had been engaged in the battle of Bothwell Bridge, and owned an underground house in a hill — which contained swords and pistols, and was able to hold a dozen men — where he had lurked ever since the engagement just referred to. He " suffered very unconcernedly." Still we have evidence from Clavers's own declaration that fearful hardships were in- flicted by him in the "killing time." His plan was to establish magazines of corn and straw everywhere, so that he could spring in a moment with his whole party upon the in- tended victims, to quarter on the rebels and eat them up, then to search for them and " play them hotly with parties ; " " so that," he says, " there were several taken, many fled the country, and all were dung [knocked] from their haunts." Then, he continues, he rifled their houses, ruined their goods, and imprisoned their servants ; so that " their ■wives and cJiildren were brought to starving, which made them glad to renounce their principles.^' It is difficult to say one word, except in bitter condemnation, of the man who wrote those words ; and it would be hard indeed to say of him what Sir Walter Scott has written, that he v/as " a scholar and a gentleman." M. M. S6o British Troops on the March to Cabul. DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN THE STORY OF THE FIRST AFGHAN WAR. An Impressive Warning- -Cabul and its Rulers— Russian Influence in Persia— General Apprehensions- Dost Makomed, Khan of Cabul— Various Opinions concerning him — Lord Auckland, Governor-General of India ; His Policy — The Meeting with Shah Soojah— Rungeet Singh, the Ally of the English — The Army of the Indus— Shah Soojah restored to his Throne— The Entry into Candahar— Mistaken Notions oi Shah Soojah's Popularity— The Advance to Ghuznee — Its Fall— Flight of Dost Mahomed— The Great Dourannee Order distributed at Cabul— Gallant Struggles of Dost Mahomed— Battle of Purwan Durrah— Cabul in Insurrection— Dost Mahomed in India— Assassination of Sir Alexander Burnes and his Brother— From Bad to Worse— The English Army beleaguered at Cabul— Consequences of the Insurrection— Akbar Khan and his Doings— Murder of Sir W. I\l acnaghten— Pitiable State of the Army — The Retreat from Cabul— The Khyber Pass— Lord Auckland and Lord EUenborough— Revenge— The Advance into Afghanistan — Conclusion. An Impressive Warning. EFORE the British army crossed the Indus, the English name was honoured in Afghanistan. Some dim traditions of the splendour of Mr. Elphinstone's mission were all that the Afghans associated with their thoughts of the English nation ; and now, in their place, are galling memories of the progress of a desolating army. The Afghans are an un- forgiving race. . . . There is scarcely a family in the country which has not the blood of kindred to revenge upon the ac- cursed Feringhees. The door of reconcilia- 561 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. tion is closed against us ; and if the hostility of the Afghans be an element of weakness, it is certain that we have contrived to secure it." These memorable and prophetic words are to be found at the conclusion of Sir John Kaye's admirable history of the first war waged by the British in Afghanistan. They were written more than thirty years ago ; and subsequent events have fully vindicated the writer's sagacity. No page of the history of England in the present century — not even the great Indian Mutiny of 1857 itself — is more fraught with solemn warning than the story of the operations, diplomatic and war- like, of the British in Afghanistan in the first years of the reign of Queen Victoria. The surrender of Cabul, the utter destruction of a British army in the retreat through the ter- rible Khyber Pass, and the miserable failure of the operations that were expected to lead to increased power and prosperity, form an epoch in our Eastern history which, for many reasons, it may not be unprofitable to recall. Cabul and its Rulers. The Kingdom of Cabul, in the wild and mountainous realm known as Afghanistan, is the most important of the divisions of that country. It is bounded on the north by the Hindoo Koosh range, in some parts rising to an altitude of 20,000 feet ; on the east by the deserts of the Paropamisan chain ; on the south by the Afghan kingdom of Candahar ; and on the west by the province of Peshawur, taken by the Afghans from the Sikhs. In ancient times the geographer Ptolemy mentioned the city of Cabul under the name Kubara. Among the four principal places of the country (the other three being Ghuznee, Candahar, and Herat) it is the most important. Afghanistan possesses great importance from being the high-road from Persia to India. When, in 1747, Nadir Shah was murdered, disturbancesbroke out in the country, and Ahmed Shah took advan- tage of the confusion to detach Afghanistan from the dominion of Persia, and founded the Dourannee dynasty. After a warlike reign, which extended to the year 1773, he was succeeded by his weak and indolent son Timour Shah, under whom the seat of government was transferred from Candahar to Cabul. In 1793 Timour died; and his death was the signal for the commencement of a struggle between his sons ; the second of whom, Zemaun, succeeded in establishing himself on the throne, after driving his elder brother from Candahar, and causing that wretched prince to be blinded. His brother Mahmoud, too, who resided at Herat, was vanquished by Zemaun, and compelled to take refuge in Persian territory, where he entered into a compact with Tutteh Khan, the head of the powerful Barukzyes, the two chiefs swearing on the Koi-an an oath of enmity against Zemaun. They took possession of Candahar ; Shah Zemaun, defeated in his turn, was blinded and kept for a time in captivity. He ultimately found protection with the East India Company, on whose bounty he lived as a pensioner at Loodianah. Mahmoud was not allowed long to enjoy his conquered territory in peace. The year 1 801 brought into the field a new claimant for sovereignty in the person of a man destined to attain a mournful celebrity in the history of Afghanistan. This was a still younger son of Timour, Shah Soojah, then about twenty years of age. He took ad- vantage of the unpopularity of Mahmoud to attack him. and, though at first repulsed by Tutteh Khan, succeeded, in 1803, in de- priving Mahmoud of his throne, during the absence of the brave chief of the Barukzyes. For six years he contrived to maintain a doubtful and precarious authority ; but in 1 8 10 was driven from his kingdom by Tutteh Khan, and in his turn became a pensioner of the East India Company, while Mahmoud once more resumed the sovereignty ; though the boundaries of his dominions were conside- rably narrowed by the victories of Runjeet Singh, who, after taking Attock and Mool- tan, conquered Cashmere in the year 18 19. Though Tutteh Khan had placed Shah Mahmoud on the throne, he was treated with great ingratitude, being even deprived of sight by a son of Mahmoud at Candahar, in revenge for contemptuous words spoken of the ruler of Cabul. The three brothers of Tutteh Khan were stirred up to vengeance by this act, and drove Mahmoud away again. He ultimately died, in 1829, a fugitive with his son Kamran at Herat. With him fell the Dourannee empire in Afghanistan. The Barukzyes became rulers of the whole country, with the exception of Herat. Dost Mahomed, the eldest of the three brothers, ruled in Cabul. In 1833, Shah Soojah made a final attempt to regain his throne ; but after obtaining some ad- vantages, he was completely defeated near Candahar by Dost Mahomed ; and now, at sixty years of age, became permanently a pensioner of the East India Company, and, apparently, desired no better fate than to end his days in peace and affluence, away from the ambition and the cares of state. The Russian Scare ; "Bokara" Burnes AND his Mission. At that time there existed in England a profound distrust of Russia, and a very exaggerated notion of the might of that colossus of the north to injure British in- terests in the East. The great storm of 56: DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. 1830 that swept away the restored throne of the elder branch of the Bourbons in France, and dissolved the forced and un- natural union of Belgium and Holland, liad failed to shake the throne of Russia; and that power was generally supposed to be intriguing to supplant Great Britain in the East, and to shake the foundations of her Indian Empire. Dost Mahomed Shah and his brothers had risen to power on the ruin of a great family, of which one repre- sentative still remained enthroned as the Prince of Herat. Between the Prince of Herat and the Shah of Persia there had long been ill feeling, and it would appear that the Persian ruler had real and genuine cause of quarrel. But in England it was thought that Russia was behind the scenes, and was the wire-puller in this affair. Thus, in 1835, Lord Palmerston, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, wrote to Mr. EUice, the English ambassador at Teheran, directing him to warn the Persian Government against aggressive warfare. Mr. Ellice himself appears to have been persuaded of the sinister designs of Russia, and that Persia was merely a puppet in her hands. In January 1836, he wrote a letter announcing that the Shah had determined to attack Herat ; and that his success was anxiously looked for by Russia, " whose minister did not fail '£0 press its execution." Mr. Ellice added that the motive for this could not be mistaken, for that Herat, once annexed to Persia, might become, according to the commercial treaty, the residence of a consular agent, who might from thence push his researches and communications, avowed and secret, throughout Afghanistan. He further de- clared that Russian influence would be brought to the very threshold of India if the Persian monarchy were extended in the ■direction of Hindostan ; and that Persia, unwilling or unable cordially to ally herself with Great Britain, must be considered, not as the bulwark of India, but " as the first parallel from which the attack could be com- menced or threatened." Thus the Russian scare began. Rightly or wrongly, it took full possession of the official mind that regulated British statesmanship in India. The establishment of a Russian commercial agent on the fron- tiers of Persia, certainly not an unusual pro- ceeding considering the extensive trade between Russia and Persia, appeared to the Foreign Office as the darkest of intrigues. " The shake of Lord Burleigh's head," says Dr. Buist of the Bombay Times, in writing some years after of these events, "conveyed not half so many meanings, when nodded most strongly, according to the directions of Mr. Puff, as did the most meaningless civil speech of the Russian ambassador, inter- preted by the lights of Mr. Ellice and Mr. McNeil." The Russian Government, it must be observed, disavowed any but strictly com- mercial intentions in this communication with Persia, and Count Nesselrode assured Lord Palmerston that the best efforts were being made for the re-establishment of pacific relations between Persia and Herat. One of the most promising English officers in India in those days was Captain, after- wards Sir Alexander, Burnes. He had been the leader of an exploring expedition to Bokara some years previously, and had pub- lished the result of his travels in a once popular book, and had acquired the honour- able soubriquet of " Bokara Burnes." Sir Alexander Burnes was now despatched on a mission to Cabul ; and his personal observations quickly convinced him that Dost Mahomed Khan, a wary, astute, and valorous ruler, valued the friendship of the English far above that of the Russians, and might be looked upon as a steady, trust- worthy, and valuable ally. On the morning of the 19th December, 1837, Sir Alexander writes to the Government of India : " The Ameer came over from the Bala Hissar (the citadel of Cabul) with a letter from his son, the Governor of Ghuznee, reporting that a Russian agent had arrived at that city on his way to Cabul. Dost Mahomed Khan said that he had come for my counsel on the occasion ; that he wished to have nothing to do with any other power than the British ; that he did not wish to receive any agent from any other power whatever, so long as he had a hope of sympathy from us ; and that he would order the Russian agent to be turned out, detained on the road, or act in any other way that I desired him." Though sufficiently ready to be alarmed by the Russian scare, Burnes persevered in regard- ing Dost Mahomed as sincere in his profes- sions of loyalty and attachment to England. But both in Downing Street and at Simla the opinion was very different. It was taken for granted that Dost Mahomed must be a traitor, and Burnes was expressly and re- peatedly admonished to regard him in that light, and to place no reliance on his pro- mises. Burnes protested strongly against this view, urging that though Dost Mahomed had received tempting offers from Russia, from Bokhara, and from Persia, all bidding for his alliance, he had disregarded every overture, and continued steady in his deter- mination to be loyal to the Enghsh. " In all that has passed, or is daily transpiring," writes Sir Alexander, " the chief of Cabul declares that he prefers the sympathy and friendly offices of the British to all these offers, however alluring they may be, from Persia or from the Emperor ; which places his good sense in a light more than promi- ses EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. nent, and, in my humble judgment, proves that by an earlier attention to these countries ■we might have escaped the whole of these intrigues, and held long since a stable in- fluence in Cabul." Still the authorities refused to believe ; and, incredible as the fact may seem, in their anxiety to impress their opinion upon parliament and the coun- try, the despatches relating to these affairs were disgracefully garbled, only such portions of them being made public as tended to sup- port the view of the Government ; and when afterwards Lord Palmerston was called to account for this, he actually defended the practice ; declaring that as the Government had determined not to adopt the policy re- commended by Bumes, there was no obliga- tion to publish the arguments of that unfor- tunate officer in their entirety. The grave complaint the country had afterwards to make regarding these affairs was, that by the unscrupulous manipulation of his des- patches, the publication of detached sen- tences, and the withholding of the context, Burnes was made to appear as condemning a policy which he warmly advocated. That policy was, close alliance with the ruler of Cabul for counteracting adverse influences in Afghanistan. In writing to Mr. , afterwards Sir William, Macnaghten, in 1838, he says : " It remains to be considered why we cannot act with Dost Mahomed. He is a man of undoubted ability, and has a high opinion of the British nation ; and if half you must do for others were done for him. and offers made which he could see conduced to his interests, he would abandon Russia and Persia to- morrow. . . . Government have admitted that he had at best a choice of difficulties ; and it should not be forgotten that we promised nothing, and Persia and Russia held out a good deal." His opinion was that by strengthening Dost Mahomed's hands the interests of England in India would be best served. Lord Auckland's Policy ; The Meeting WITH Shah Soojah. The Governor-General of India at that time was Lord Auckland ; an amiable and well-meaning official, but vacillating and unsteady, and altogether lacking the com- prehensiveness of mind which would have enabled a Clive or a Warren Hastings to take in the situation at a glance. He re- solved to drive Dost Mahomed, whom it was convenient to regard as an usurper, from the throne of Cabul, and to set up in his stead the roi faineant Shah Soojah, for whose return the Afghans were represented as pining, though he had long been forgotten, and even during his short tenure of power long before had never been able to estabhsh a real influence over his turbulent subjects. It was announced to Shah Soojah, accord- ingly, that he was to be restored to his throne ; and Runjeet Singh, the ruler of the Punjaub, with whom Dost Mahomed was at war, was drawn into the enterprise. Sir William Mac- naghten conducted this part of the negotia- tion. In a manifesto issued at Simlah on the 1st of October, 1838, the Governor- General declared that the troops of Dost Mahomed had made an unprovoked attack upon those of the Maharajah Runjeet Singh, the faithful ally of the British ; that intrigues were actively prosecuted throughout Afghan- istan for the purpose of extending Persian authority to the Indus and beyond it ; that the British missions had been insulted ; that Dost Mahomed entertained ambitious schemes incompatible with the well-being of the Eng- lish in India ; that the Barukyze chiefs, from their disunion and unpopularity, were ill fitted to be useful allies to the British Government ; that it was necessary the English should have upon the western frontier an ally interested in resisting aggression and establishing tran- quillity ; that accordingly pressing necessity, policy, and justice warranted the English in espousing the cause of Shah Soojah-ool- Moolk, "whose popularity throughout Af- ghanistan had been proved to his Lordship by the strotig and imatiintoiis testimo7iy of the best atithoritiesj" that the position of the Maharajah Runjeet Singh, and his unde- viating friendship towards the British had entitled him to be associated in the enter- prise, and that accordingly a triplicate treaty had been made between Soojah-ool-Moolk, the Maharajah, and the British Government, to co-operate in the restoration of Soojah-ool- Moolk. The Secretary to the Government, Sir W. Macnaghten, was to reside at Shah Soojah's court, with Sir Alexander Bumes to act under him. At the end of November 1838, Runjeet Singh, once known as the Lion of the Pun- jaub, the conqueror of a great kingdom, but now a decrepid, half imbecile little old man, met Lord Auckland in solemn durbar at Ferozepore. The scene was one of barbaric splendour; and some costly presents flattered the vanity of the old conqueror. The balance of splendour was, however, considered to be on the side of the followers of Runjeet Singh. Mr. Stoqueler, in his " Memorials of Afghanistan," has recorded that the Sikhs "shone down the English." "The camp of the Maharajah was on the other side of the river," says Sir John Kaye in his " History of the Afghan War," "and there, amidst a scene of Oriental splendour, difficult to describe or imagine, the great Sikh chieftain received the representative of the British nation. The splendid costumes of the Sikh sirdars, the gorgeous trappings of their horses, the glittering steel casques 564 DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. and corslets of chain armour, the scarlet and yellow dresses, the tents of crimson and gold, made up a show of Eastern magnificence equally grand and picturesque. As the Maharajah saluted the Governor- General, the familiar notes of the National Anthem arose from the instruments of a Sikh band, and the guns of the Kalsa roared forth their expected welcome." It was quite in character with Oriental usage that even on such a solemn occasion as this the old Maharajah should cause to be exhibited, in the durbar tent itself, " an unseemly display of dancing girls and the antics of some male buffoons." Old Runjeet Singh's was heard. It was considered as a misfortune, however, that Sir Henry Fane, the Com- mander-in-Chief of the Indian army, de- clined to command the expedition, and resigned his trust into the hands of Sir John Keane, who had been in command of the Bombay army, and in whom the Bengal force had nothing like the confidence they felt in the tried capacity and soldierly quali- ties of Sir Henry Fane. The route to be followed by the force was to the south-west, towards the Indus, which was to be crossed at Bukkur. Afterwards, turning to the north- west, the army was to make for the Bolan Pass, through which the road lay to Guettah, Ghuznee. a strangely mixed character, compounded of some great and heroic qualities, in which he could compare even with his predecessor in another part of India, Hyder Ali, the " Tiger of Mysore," intermingled with a strong leaven of sensuality and low vice. The Army of the Indus ; Shah Soojah restored to his throne. The expeditionary force started upon the campaign in the highest spirits, and with every prospect of success. Indeed, no very great resistance was expected, and the old expression of " a military promenade to the capital," so often put forward, and so often miserably falsified by events, was here also and so through the Kojuck to Candahar, — a strangely devious route, as the historian of the war justly observes, from Ferozepore to Candahar ; like taking the two sides of a triangle instead of the base. It was on this occasion that the Ameers of Sindh were converted into bitter enemies by the peremptory demand made upon them to supply the English army with provisions as it passed, without demanding their per- mission, through their territories. They were told that " the Sindhian who hoped to stop the approach of the British army might as well seek to dam up the Indus at Bukkur." If the object of British statesmanship in India at that time had been to arouse hatred and 56s EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. a desire for revenge, the measures taken could not have been more eminently calcu- lated to accomplish that end. Those who knew the character of the Ameers of Sindh considered that the British authorities were sowing those " dragons' teeth " from which, at some future time, an evil harvest would spring up. The army of the Indus marched curiously encumbered with impedimenta in the shape of a very long train of baggage. A force of 9,500 men marched accompanied by 38,000 camp-followers and 30,000 camels. This was before the days when sturdy Sir Charles Napier uttered his trenchant and sarcastic protests against the comforts to which the British officer of that day thought himself entitled in moving through an enemy's country. It is curious to imagine what such a commander as Frederick the Great, with his Spartan ideas of simplicity and self- denial on a march, would have thought of such a procession. But at the outset the weather was bright, the roads were good ; there was no prospect of any great difficulty or privation to be endured before they met the enemy, whom they were anxious, as a British army always is, to encounter ; and officers and men were in the highest spirits. But soon the hostile feelings of the Ameers began to be practically felt in the exceeding difficulty of obtaining provisions ; and when Sir John Keane, who had come by sea with the Bombay contingent, arrived to take the command, he had practical proofs of the inimical attitude of the native chiefs. Macnaghten, the envoy, found the position embarrassing, and vehemently urged the necessity of pushing forward without a moment's loss of time. "We should not, I think," he wrote to the Governor-General, " on any account lose the season for advanc- ing upon Candahar. With one European regiment, some more artillery, a couple of native regiments, and a small battering train, we might not only occupy Candahar but relieve Herat ; and by money, if we have no available troops, make Cabul too hot for Dost Mahomed." In another letter he urged that delay would altogether imperil the suc- cess of the enterprise. But the military and political authorities were ah'eady at variance, and almost in a state of antagonism, with divided counsels. The march also became more difficult day by day, and as the country became more arid and inhospitable, the camels began to drop dead by scores, and then by hundreds. It was a foretaste of what was to happen ; and it was clear that every impediment was being thrown in the way of our troops in collecting supplies. But the column pushed on, sorely harassed by the Beloochee freebooters, who hovered in plundering and murdering bands 566 on the flanks, carrying off cattle and putting stragglers to death. And thus, amid a thou- sand difficulties, the Bolan Pass was tra- versed; and on the 26th of March,Guettah was reached, though by this time disease and pri- vation (for the troops were now almost upon famine allowance) had worked sad havoc in their ranks. Sir John Keane, on the 6th of April, assumed the personal command of the army, and soon after the army marched through the Kojuck Pass ; and Macnaghten,, persuaded " that Afghan cupidity could not be proof against British gold," began the disastrous policy of buying up the allegiance of the chiefs ; a policy to which many subse- quent calamities have been ascribed. Shah Soojah's triumphal entry into Can- dahar, when that city was at last reached^ proved a failure. At first curiosity and the natural desire of men to see a pageant brought together a large crowd ; and it is reported that the people shouted, " Welcome to the son of Timour Shah ! " " We look to- you for protection ! " " Candahar is rescued from the Barukzyes ! " " May your enemies be destroyed ! " and thus the signs of ap- parent popular enthusiasm were not wanting;, and Macnaghten, with his sanguine tempera- ment, took these shouts as really meaning something appreciable, and wrote a glowing- report of success to the Government. Still he seems to have had his eyes partly opened as to the Afghan nature during the long and toilsome march. " Of one thing I am cer- tain," he says in the same letter, " that we must be prepared to look upon Afghanistaa for some years as an outwork, yielding no- thing, but requiring much expenditure to- keep it in repair." On the other hand he says : " Dost Mahomed will, I doubt not,, take himself off like his brothers, though, not, perhaps, in quite so great a hurry, when the intelligence reaches him of the manner in which Shah Soojah has been received at Candahar." Dost Mahomed was a thoroughly sagacious man, and no doubt appreciated the value of the shouts raised by the many-headed multi- tude. Had he been a reader of European literature, he might have remembered the bitter words Scott put in the mouth of the Scottish king in The Lady of the Lake, when the shouts for Douglas fell on his ear^ and he reflected how — ' ' The selfsame crowd, with loud acclaims, Strained for its morning note King James ;. The like applause would Douglas greet If he could hurl me from my seat." The truth was, that the people felt not the slightest affection or loyalty for Shah Soojah. On the 8th of May, all the troops having now arrived, there was to be a grand ceremonial and review on the plains outside Candahar, DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. a kind of public fete of the restoration. All things were duly prepared, and when the time came there lacked nothing but the guests. The officers and the soldiers were there, and the high officials, native and British, but the expected crowd of delighted and enthusiastic spectators was conspicuous by its absence. A place had been set apart in the day's proceedings for "the populace restrained by the Shah's troops," and this part of the programme, as Captain Havelock justly remarked, became rather a bitter satire — there was nobody for the Shah's troops to restrain. " The people of Candahar are said to have viewed the whole thing with the most mortifying indifference," wrote the cap- tain; "few of them quitted the city to be present in the plains." The "adoration" bestowed upon Shah Soojah by his subjects was about on a par with the feeling experi- enced by the French in 1814 for Louis XVIII., brought back by foreign bayonets to the throne from which his brother had been driven twenty-two years before. Barely a hundred Afghans, it is said, were present as spectators. The Advance to Ghuznee ; Its Fall ; Flight of Dost Mahomed. It became abundantly clear, even to that proverbial blindness which consists in un- willingness to recognize distasteful truths, that as the British power had seated Soojah Dowlah on the throne of Candahar, the British power alone could keep him there. The Sirdars of Candahar had submitted to the British armed force, and had been bribed by British gold ; had they loyally supported Dost Mahomed it might have been fatal for our army, struggling famine-stricken through the Bolan and Kojuck Passes. But Dost Mahomed had his sons, Akbar Khan, Hyder Khan, and Afzul Khan, in whom he trusted to stop, or at any rate to retard, the advance of his enemies, while he collected his strength as best he might. After a couple of months spent at Can- dahar, the bulk of the British force advanced upon Ghuznee. about 230 miles on the road to Cabul. Here Afzul Khan was in com- mand. The siege train had not yet come up. It was determined to take the city by blowing up one of the entrances, the Cabul gate, with gunpowder, which was successfully accomplished, and the British were quickly masters of Ghuznee. On this occasion, the fanatics called Ghazees, who fight devoting themselves to death to attain the joys of Paradise, distinguished themselves by fierce resistance ; and a party of fifty of them, taken prisoners and brought into the presence of Shah Soojah, so enraged the old king by their hardihood and reproaches that he caused them all to be instantly massacred with circum- stances of great cruelty. This made him more unpopular than ever, and roused the religious fanaticism of the country against him, and, as appeared in the sequel, with fatal effect. Here Hyder Khan fell as a prisoner into the hands of the English. The loss of the Afghans at Ghuznee is estimated at about 1000 slain. The casualties on the English side amounted altogether to 191, the number of those actually slain being only 17. It was remarked that the wounded men recovered with most uncommon and gratifying celerity. This was attributed to the fact that the supply of intoxicating liquors having been exhausted some time before, the force commanded by Sir John Keane was a "temperance" army. Afzul Khan, the "fighting" son of Dost Ma- homed, fled to Cabul, eighty miles distant, with his force of 5,000 cavalry, when he saw the British flag waving on the battlements of Ghuznee. From Ghuznee the troops proceeded to Cabul, from which city Dost Mahomed fled at the approach of the victors. The old Shah Soojah was installed in the capital, as he had been at Candahar, and under very similar circumstances. The King entered the city with great pomp, escorted by English hussars and dragoons, and accompanied by Sir Alexander Burnes and a number of English officers. But the most favourable account of his reception describes it omi- nously as " respectful but cold." The more outspoken narratives talk of utter indif- ference, and a feeling very like contempt. The chiefs did not appear. " There was no enthusiasm," says Dr. Buist, the editor of the Bombay Times ; " and not even that clamorous exultation which a crowded popu- lace commonly display on the first fall of one who has kept them in order, or in the mani- festation of any important change in the order of things." A great durbar was held, at which the badges of the Dourannee order were conferred on some officers of the army. The whole affair appears to have been ludi- crous in its failure as a spectacle,— the old King seated in a camp-chair, in a ruinous and neglected garden, with two old fat eunuchs behind him, each holding a dish in his hand, and the English ofificers march- ing gravely up to " this extraordinary dumb show." Dr. Kennedy relates how " Sir John Keane stepped before the said camp-chair with the King in it, and gravely dropped on his knees before the Dourannee Emperor, whereupon Shah Soojah, with great difficulty, stuck the decoration of the Dourannee order on the Commander-in-Chiefs coat ; and then," says the narrator, " Sir John, standing before the Emperor, delivered himself of a speech, in which there was a great deal about ' hurling a usurper from the throne,' at which my 567 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. cousin Toby might, perhaps, have whistled his 'liUibullero.'" Soon afterwards the Bombay and the Bengal armies separated, and returned to India through the tremendous passes which were soon to have a sinister fame by the disasters they were destined to witness. The usual " general order '' was issued, thanking the troops for their gallantry and endurance during the Afghan campaign. Lord Auck- land, the Governor-General, was advanced a step in the peerage ; Macnaghten,who really seems to have believed that the Dourannee kingdom was firmly established, received a baronetage, and other rewards were distri- buted. Even men who knew the East well, and had experience of the Indian and Afghan character, were unaccountably deceived in their estimate of the situation, and of the completeness of the work that had been achieved. Lord Macaulay, in his masterly essay on Malcolm's " Life of Clive," pub- lished just at that time, speaks of the storming of Ghuznee as the closing act of a series of triumphs of which the defence of Arcot by the undaunted young captain, almost a cen- tury before, had been the first ; and speaks in terms of exultation of the prowess and brilliant success of the conquering nation who had seated their vassal on the throne of Candahar. There was no misgiving as to the stability of that throne — no apprehension of the tremendous reverses that were soon to follow. Gallant Struggles of Dost Mahomed ; PURWAN DURRAH ; CaBUL IN INSUR- RECTION. Dost Mahomed did not tamely submit to the transfer of his dominions to an enemy. He made a good fight for his throne, even after Shah Soojah had been established at Cabul, and won the respect and admiration of his enemies by his gallantry and skill. After a time he proceeded to Bokhara, where the King, who had promised him assistance, treacherously took him prisoner, with several of his sons. In August 1840, he escaped, and was soon at the head of a formidable force. On the 2nd of November, 1840, was fought the battle of Purwan Durrah. Here Dost Mahomed gained a victory; and the British officers found to their mortification that, either from cowardice or disaffection, the native troops, commencing with the 2nd Bengal Light Cavalry, refused to advance against the enemy. When Captains Eraser and Ponsonby ordered them to draw and charge, they first hesitated, then wavered, and ultimately turned and fled before a body of Afghans not superior to themselves in number. The officers were left to face the enemy alone ; some being cut down, and others, among whom was Captain Eraser, contriving to escape, desperately wounded, to the British Hnes. Dost Mahomed him- self led on his men, crying aloud : " In the name of God and the Prophet, fight and drive the Eeringhee Caffirs from the land, or I am gone !" The successful charge made by the Afghans gave them the right to claim the victory. The battle had been most mortifying to the English, from the bad behaviour of the Sepoy soldiers, now mani- fested for the first time in the war. The regiment whose ill conduct had been most glaring was degraded and disbanded. On the other hand, the gallant manner in which Eraser, Ponsonby, and other officers, though desperately wounded, had fought their way through the enemy, excited the highest ad- miration. During the night the enemy re- treated from the field. But the wily old ruler saw that, in spite of a temporary success, he would not be able to maintain himself against the hostility of the British, more especially as the Sikhs had consented to open their country for the march of large reinforcements of troops from India into Afghanistan. He seems to have resolved to trust to time and the dislike of the Afghans to Shah Soojab, and meanwhile to put him- self into the hands of the British, from whom he anticipated honourable treatment, — a hope in which he was not disappointed. On the evening of the battle he quitted the field on horseback, and rode off direct for Cabul, where he arrived on the following evening, having performed a journey of sixty miles in less than twenty-four hours. Sir W. Mac- naghten was returning from his customary ride in the outskirts of Cabul, on the evening of the 3rd of November, when, to his great surprise, a horseman rode up to him and informed him that Dost Mahomed had arrived, and begged his protection. The ex-Shah thereupon appeared, alighted from his horse, and presented his sword, which was immediately returned to him. He was treated with every respect, and at once wrote to his sons, informing them of the step he had taken, and requesting them to join him, which thy all did with the exception of Akbar Khan. Being joined by his whole family, he was sent to India ; and being permitted to visit Calcutta, was received with distinction by Lord Auckland the Governor- General. A pension of ^30,000 a year was assigned to him, and till the end of 1842 he continued to reside in India, watching the course of events, but loyally maintaining a position of friend- ship to the nation whose pensioner he had become. Indeed, we are told by Dr. Atkinson that in December 1840, while on his way to India, Dost Mahomed strongly warned his captors of the difficulties they would encounter from 568 DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the Suddozyes, who had never been accus- tomed to obey, and declared that the Enghsh would find the courtiers about Shah Soojah, who had for years been fattening on their bounty, the readiest to plot and intrigue against them. He declared that they would do far better to take the government of the kingdom entirely into their own hands, than to stand in the anomalous position of pro- tectors to Shah Soojah — held responsible for and reaping unpopularity by all the bad measures, the extortions and mistakes of that weak and incapable ruler. On the 3rd of November, the anniversary of the disastrous battle of Purwan Durrah, a formidable insurrection broke out in Cabul. A report had spread among various of the chiefs that they were to be taken prisoners or put to death ; and they determined to forestall what they believed to be a con- spiracy against their lives and liberties. At first the commotion in the city was compara- tively slight ; and Sir W. Macnaghten, who was about to quite Cabul and return to Bombay, leaving Sir Alexander Burnes as his successor at the Shah's court, quite failed to appreciate the real gravity of affairs. Against Burnes the Afghans were especially bitter, for they believed that, after professing friendship for Dost Mahomed, he had been guilty of treachery in abandoning the cause of that ruler to support Shah Soojah. The accusation was groundless, but seemed to be based on reasonable deductions from appear- ances. They could not know how entirely against the advice and opinion of Burnes had been the policy adopted by the British Government. Sir Alexander Burnes dwelt in the city ; and in his house on that morning were his brother. Lieutenant Charles Burnes, and his military secretary. Lieutenant Broadfoot, a brother of a gallant officer who had fallen a year before at Purwan Durrah. Early in the morning. Sir Alexander received warning through a friendly native that there was a plot for a rising in the city, and for his assassination ; and he was earnestly recom- mended to quit his house and proceed to the cantonments outside the city, where the troops were quartered. He refused to believe the report, confident in the friendly feeling of the Afghans towards him, as he had ever been their friend, and had always endea- voured to advance their interests. But pre- sently a raging mob assembled round his house, some thirsting for blood, and others for plunder. He then sent two messengers to the cantonments to demand a force for his protection. Only one of these messen- gers returned, covered with wounds ; the other was murdered by the mob. From a gallery or balcony of his house, Burnes harangued the raging assailants. reminding them that he was their old friend, and promising that, if they would disperse quietly, the grievances of the chiefs and people should be rigidly inquired into. It was utterly in vain ; Lieutenant Broadfoot was laid low by a shot from the crowd, who now yelled for the lives of the British officers. Lieutenant Burnes and a party of chuprassies now fii-ed upon the mob ; but this, instead of intimidating the assailants, only roused them to wilder fury. In his extremity the unfor- tunate resident made an appeal to the avarice of his assailants, promising them large sums if they would spare his life and his brother's. The reply was a repeated summons that they should come down to the garden. A Mus- sulman solemnly pledged himself to convey Burnes and his brother safely to one of the forts, and Sir Alexander, partly disguised in some articles of native attire hastily assumed, descended to the garden. Whereupon his treacherous conductor immediately cried out : " This is Secan der Burnes ! " Where- upon the savage assailants fell upon him, and killed him with many wounds ; Lieutenant Burnes was despatched at the same time. From Bad to Worse ; The Conse- quences OF THE Insurrection. It is the opinion of the survivors of that lamentable day that a vigorous demonstration of the six thousand troops encamped within a couple of miles of th>e city would have strangled the outbreak in its birth ; and, in- deed, at the outset it was a mere rising of the mob, the discontented chiefs holding aloof out of fear of the large force so near them, whom they expected promptly to avenge the murder of the English officers. The savage crowd, having tasted blood, proceeded to fresh outrages. The treasury of Captain Johnson, the paymaster, was attacked and plundered of ^ 1 7,000 ; all the property of that officer was carried off or destroyed, and his servants were massacred, and also the guard who kept watch over the plundered treasury, and stuck to their duty with rare fidelity until overpowered and slain. The mob then rushed through the city, plundering shops and attacking the houses of British officers, where they slew women and children, and the whole town was a scene of murder and rapine. Meanwhile the wretched old king, the " beloved of the people," sat trem- bhng in the Balla Hissar, the citadel of Cabul. He indeed made one effort by send- ing out some Hindustani troops into the streets to quell the tumult ; but they did little, and soon retired discomfited ; and after losing, it is said, two hundred of their men, were obliged to fall back in confusion through the narrow streets upon the Balla Hissar ; the arrival of a body of infantry and artillery from the British cantonments, under 570 DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. Brigadier Shelton, the second in command, first enabling them to save their field-pieces from capture. General Elphinstone,the chief in command, on that day, of the force surrounding Cabul, was in many respects a good and tried officer, but now enfeebled by age and by utterly broken health, and oppressed by indecision, he allowed the time when a few hundred men could have easily suppressed the revolt to go by ; the fatal inactivity being increased by the disunion which unhappily existed between himself and Brigadier Shelton, the second in command. Nothing more was done. '* Gen- eral Elphinstone," says Sir John Kaye, in narrating these events, "had been talking about to-morrow when he should have been acting to-day ; " and he tells us how the in- surgents were strengthened by the indecision of the authorities, and by the inactivity of the army that should have put them down. The unhappy want of co-operation between the first and second in command, Elphin- stone and Shelton, continued with ruinous effects. In their respective handwriting we have the complaints of Elphinstone of con- tumaciousnes and insubordination on the part of Shelton, who on his side bitterly com- plains that the carping spirit of his chief thwarted every disposition he made for the general good. While acknowledging that both were brave men, and in spite of the drawbacks of physical infirmity and dogma- tical perverseness respectively, might in any other situation have done efficient service. Sir John emphatically declares these two commanders to have been " miserably out of place in the cantonments of Cabul." Sir William Macnaghten, too, though a con- scientious, and in many respects an able, official, lacked the firmness required by the crisis ; aAd so in those days of danger and humiliation things went from bad to worse. As for Shah Soojah, that unhappy ruler remained shut up, virtually a prisoner, in the Balla Hissar, in a miserable state of terror and dejection. He was never again to have even the semblance of authority, but was destined during the short remainder of his existence to remain, what indeed he had always been, a mere puppet king. The Afghans quickly marked the irresolu- tion and the divided counsels of those against whom they had risen in rebellion, and be- came proportionately bold. They attacked the British cantonments, and gained such successes that our army, cut off from the forts where the provisions were stored, were menaced with the horrors of famine. In an action on the Beh-meim hills, on the 13th of November, Brigadier Shelton gained a last fleeting success. Lieutenant Eyre, whose chronicle of the events that followed has been acknowledged as thoroughly accurate and faithful, says, after recording the doubt- ful triumph : " Henceforward it becomes my weary task to relate a catalogue of errors, disasters, and difficulties, which, following close upon each other, disgusted our officers, disheartened our soldiers, and finally sunk u& all into irretrievable ruin, as though heaven itself, by a combination of evil circumstances^ for its own inscrutable purposes, had planned our downfall." The great hope of the army was in the expected arrival of the brigade of Sir Robert Sale, a gallant and experienced officer, whose name has become famous no less by his own achievements than by the devotion and hero- ism of the high-souled lady, his wife, whose ''Journal" furnishes a spirited and authentic account of some of the darkest passages of those troublous days. But the expected succour did not come, and Macnaghten, in an urgent letter, written only two days after the Beh-meim action, describes the position of the army as very grave, and urges the immediate despatch of help as necessary to avert complete destruction. Akbar Khan and his Doings; Fate of Sir William Macnaghten. More and more critical did the condition of the beleagured British force become in the weary weeks that closed the year 1841. The Afghans attacked again and again, and with undoubted success, and after a time the humiliating fact became only too apparent that our soldiers had become demorahsed, and would no longer look the enemy in the face. Negotiations of a description very alien from the English character were entered into at this time. Among the unholy policy de- nounced by Sir John Kaye there is no doubt that there was included a scheme for the assassination of some of the insurgent chiefs, and that the proposals, though unknown to Sir Wilharn Macnaghten, were made iri his name. Such proceedings could not fail to embitter the feeling of hatred in the country against the English. There were three courses from which the hard-pressed army, whose position in canton- ments was rapidly becoming untenable, might choose. The first, which was strongly recommended by brave Eldred Pottinger, who had already distinguished himself by the defence of Herat, was to advance boldly, and occupy, the Balla Hissar at all hazards ; but this course was vigorously opposed by Brigadier Shelton, who did not consider the advantage to be gained equivalent to the risk. Ttie second was to abandon the bag- gage and all useless encumbrances, and force a passage towards the frontier, in spite of all resistance ; but this was also overruled. The third course, the one least hkely to recommend itself to British soldiers and 571 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. statesmen, was the one finally adopted .; it was to negotiate with the enemy for a safe retreat. By this time Akbar Khan, the fiercest, the most ambitious, and certainly the ablest of the sons of Dost Mahomed, had appeared before Cabul. Already there had been ne- gotiations for peace between the Afghans and the English ; but the Afghan ambassa- dors had insolently demanded nothing less than unconditional submission from the British ; that they should surrender at dis- cretion, giving themselves up, with all their arms, ammunition, and treasure, as prisoners of war. These terms had been at once re- jected by Macnaghten. But when Akbar Khan arrived, and was received with noisy demonstrations of delight by the Afghans, negotiations were resumed ; and a treaty was drafted, of which the chief stipulations were, that the British should evacuate Afghanistan, to which country Dost Mahomed Khan and his family were to be sent back ; that Shah Soojah should quit Cabul and be allowed to go to India or elsewhere at his pleasure ; and as hostages for the fulfilment of the treaty certain British officers should remain at Cabul. This was a very different treaty from those a British envoy had been accustomed to sign, and it is not to be wondered at that Sir William Macnaghten, sorely harassed with doubts and misgivings, sought to delay its fulfilment, in the faint hope that some- thing might occur to procure for him more favourable conditions. And while the con- clusion of matters was thus delayed, Akbar Khan suddenly proposed an accommodation on an entirely new basis. His proposal, which was indeed in the nature of a con- spiracy, involved nothing less than the ^'throwing over" of the chiefs with whom he professed to act, or rather, he proposed that he and his followers should unite with the British against those chiefs, to maintain Shah Soojah on the throne, Akbar Khan himself governing as Wuzeer. The English would thus be relieved from the humiliation of being compelled to leave the country ; for they might remain till the spring, and their nominee would still continue on the throne of Cabul. He further stipulated for a large sum of money for himself in recompense for the service he was doing to the British. Poor Sir William, sorely harassed and half heart-broken at the idea of a compulsory and shameful retreat, was tempted by the insidious offer, and eagerly clutched at the prospect of escape from humiliation. He closed with the proposal at once, and desired the reluctant General Elphinstone, who was startled at the ominous word " plot," and asked how the chiefs were to be disposed of, to be prepared to support him with troops. Macaulay, in speaking of Clive, says how that gifted but unscrupulous man was accustomed to look upon Indian politics as a game at which nothing was unfair ; how directly he was matched against an Indian intriguer, he became himself an Indian in- triguer, and descended without shame "to falsehood, to hypocritical caresses, to the sub- stitution of documents, and to the counter- feiting of hands." Something of this reckless spirit seems to have come upon Macnaghten on this occasion. Under ordinary circum- stances, and with his faculties unclouded by overwhelming misfortune, he would certainly not have listened to such a proposal as that of Akbar Khan. But he was falling into a trap, set and baited for him by Akbar. It was that treacherous chiefs intention to get the per- son of the British envoy into his power. Accordingly a conference was arranged, to which Macnaghten came, accompanied by three British officers. Akbar Kha.n arrived, surrounded by a great retinue of followers and friends ; and the Afghans, many of them fanatic Ghazees, came pressing round in a hostile and ominous manner. The pro- ceedings had hardly begun, when suddenly the arms of each of the Englishmen were seized from behind, and they were made prisoners. Akbar Khan himself endeavoured to secure the envoy, who struggled violently, with surprise and horror in his countenance. It appears that the chiefs were suspicious of Akbar Khan, and apprehensive that he would make a bargain for himself by sacrificing their interests, and that Akbar wished to dispel their suspicion and prove his sincerity to them by handing over to them the person of the English envoy. When the envoy was being seized by Akbar he struggled violently. That fierce chief, who was subject to ungovern- able fits of passion, lost all control over him- self, in the fear of losing his prisoner, and in a sudden impulse of rage, fired a pistol, which was one of a pair presented to him by Macnaghten a few days before. Thereupon the fanatic Ghazees cut the body to frag- ments. Thus perished one of the kindest and most loyal-hearted of men, betrayed by momentary weakness into a position unworthy of his high character, and treacherously be- trayed by the man he had trusted. Two of the three officers who accompanied him were carried away as prisoners ; the third was slain. Akbar Khan always put forth the above explanation of his conduct, asserting that the capture of the envoy was absolutely necessary for the re-establishment of his own credit with the suspicious chiefs. It is but a lame defence ; at best it only substitutes treachery for premeditated murder, and reduces the slaying of Macnaghten to manslaughter. ST-^ DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. The Retreat from Cabul ; Massacre AND Ruin. In the cantonments there was consternation and dismay at the terrible news that Mac- naghten had been massacred and his com- panions taken prisoners, and that the mangled body of the envoy had been publicly paraded through the streets of Cabul, and the lifeless head stuck up to public view. What should the army do ? To hold the position seemed impossible ; to break through the investing hordes of Afghans and secure a retreat ap- peared equally so. Major Eldred Pottinger, Hissar, and holding out to the last, but had been overruled by Shelton, poor General Elphinstone being too ill and depressed to give a decided opinion either way. He was overruled ; and by means of the captured officers, whose lives had been saved at con- siderable difficulty and risk by Akbar Khan from the enraged fanatics, a negotiation was opened for the evacuation of Afghanistan by the British force. It was agreed that, with the exception of six field-pieces, all the British guns were to be given up, with all the treasure and property in the hands of the English ; that a large sum should be paid to the Afghan chiefs for the safe-conduct of the Enghsh on Cabul. whose heroic conduct at Herat entitled his opinion to every consideration, was for at- tempting the latter course, beating off the enemy as long as possible, and dying sword in hand, if better might not be. But less heroic counsels prevailed, and it was resolved to treat with the triumphant Afghans, and with their chief who had imbrued his hands in the blood of a British envoy. Seldom has a British force been exposed to such humi- liation as in this unhappy negotiation with Akbar Khan. It was at a council held on Christmas Day in the cantonments that Pottinger had pro- posed his scheme of occupying the Bala their march ; that the departure of the English should take place at once ; and that in addi- tion to Lieutenants Airey and Conolly, who were already in the hands of the Afghans, four other officers should be placed in the hands of Akbar Khan as a guarantee that the articles would be duly carried out. " There is nothing more painful in all this painful history," says Sir John Kaye, " than the pro- gress of the negotiations which resulted in the accomplishment of this treaty. ... It is so rare a thing for Englishmen to throw them- selves upon the clemency and forbearance of an insolent foe, that when we see our officers imploring the Afghan chiefs 'not to overpower 573 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the weak with suffering,' we contemplate the sad picture of our humiliation with as much astonishment and shame." Indeed, the ■Ghazees were enjoying the very intoxication of triumph ; and in those dark days that preceded the evacuation of the cantonments, they used to hover round the English lines, insulting the officers and soldiers, who, burn- ing to chastise them, were not allowed to fire a shot, and plundering and carrying off the stores of corn and the cattle that had been purchased with much trouble and expense by the commissariat for provisioning the army •on its retreat. It was at the beginning of January 1842 that the fatal retreat from Cabul began. The army numbered about four thousand fighting men, and these were encumbered, unfortu- nately, with twelve thousand camp followers, and with women and children, including the widow of the murdered Sir William Mac- naghten, some officers' wives with their chil- dren, and the heroic Lady Sale, whose husband, General Sir Robert Sale, was holding the fortress of Jellalabad, upon which the retreat- ing army was marching. In the wretched arrangement with Akbar Khan, it had been stipulated that the British garrison should leave Jellalabad, and proceed towards India before the arrival of the force from Cabul ; but General Sale and Captain Macgregor the political agent, having good information that the Afghans intended to massacre his force on their retreat, with admirable judgment refused to move from the strong position he felt himself capable of defending ; and when Abdool Ghuffoor Khan, a chief who had been appointed governor of Jellalabad, presented a letter from General Elphinstone and Major Pottinger, requesting that the fort should be •evacuated, Macgregor and Sale declined to move until they should receive security for their safe march to Peshawur. They took the course Elphinstone and Shelton should have taken at the beginning. ' It was in the depth of the bitter Afghan winter, and the route of the army lay through the tremendous pass of Khoord Cabul. The cold was intense, and the snow lay deep on the ground, when on the 6th of January the troops moved out of their cantonments. Newab Zemaun Khan, the Abdiel of the Afghan chiefs, " among the faithless faithful only found," had warned Pottinger thSt it would be highly dangerous for the British force to march without the strong escort that had been promised, and that was necessary to defend the retreating troops from the fanaticism of the Ghazees and the rapacity of plundering Afghan bandits. But it was too late to remonstrate on the absence of the escort. The one thing to be done was to get away as fast as possible, and to. endea- vour to preserve something like order. In both these respects there was failure. Delay occurred in starting, and the enormous number of camp-followers were soon mixed up with the soldiers, to the utter destruction of all efficiency and discipline. The plunder- ing natives and the fierce Ghazees soon began their attacks. " Darting in among the bag- gage they cut down the helpless camp-fol- lowers," says Sir John Kaye, " and carried off whatever they could seize. The snow was soon plastered with blood . . . there was an enormous mass of struggling life, from which arose shouts and yells and oaths, an indescribable uproar of discordant sounds; the bellowings of the camels, the curses of the camel drivers, the lamentations of the Hindoostanees, the shrieks of women, and the cries of children, and the savage yells of the Ghazees rising in barbarous triumph above them all," Thus the retreat was begun ; and on the very first day, within a few miles of the starting-point, numbers were already lying down to die in the snow, —women and children, and even sepoys, numbed and smitten to death by the terrible cold. The chief features of Napoleon's retreat from Russia were here reproduced — the bitter frost, the want of provisions, the continual attacks of a relentless enemy. " It was no longer a retreating army," says Sir John Kaye, " it was a rabble in chaotic flight." The one chance of escape for the fighting men of the army now lay in pushing forward through the pass at their best speed, shaking off the camp-followers, who retarded their progress. But here again there was difference of opinion between General Elphinstone and Brigadier Shelton, andinvaluable time was lost. Another night was passed by the despairing, perishing army on the snow before they entered the Khoord Cabul Pass. In two days they had only traversed ten miles of the way, when on the second night they halted, " a great con- geries of men, women, and children, horses, ponies, and camels, wallowing in the snow. There was no shelter, no firewood, no food. The sepoys burnt their caps and accoutre- ments to obtain a little temporary warmth. .... The sun rose upon many stiffened corpses." And meanwhile the enemy were blocking up the further end of the pass. Akbar Khan now appeared with some six hundred horsemen, declaring that he had come to protect the English retreat, and at the same time to demand additional hostages for the evacuation of Jellalabad by General Sale. He professed himself anxious for the lives of the British, but unable to restrain the hostility and fanaticism of the Ghazees. There was nothing to be done but to comply with his demand, and three officers placed themselves in his hands as hostages. The struggling, panic-stricken mass now rolled into the stupendous defile of Koord Cabul, — 574 DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN. a dark, narrow pass five miles long, shut in by precipitous walls of rock that render it dark and gloomy even at noonday. Here was perpetrated a fearful massacre, in which three thousand men are said to have fallen, shot down by the enemy or despatched by the cruel Afghan knives. When the pass was cleared, another halt was ordered by General Elphinstone, Akbar Khan having promised provisions, fuel, and protection to the retreating force. The native troops now began to desert to the enemy, and large numbers went over to save their lives. And now Akbar Khan made a new pro- position. It was that the English ladies should be placed under his charge, he en- army melted away beneath the attacks of the Afghans, Akbar Khan and his men hover- ing on the flanks, watching the butchery and doing nothing to prevent it. Day by day heaps of stiffened corpses showed where the pitiless foes had lain in wait to deal destruc- tion upon the fugitives ; and at last came the climax of the miserable calamity. The Jug- dulluck Pass, through which the survivors would have to make their way, was barri- caded by the enemy, and "the Cabul force ceased to be." A few managed to clear the barricades, but only to be cut down by the natives. At last the garrison of Jellalabad saw a solitary horseman, pale, faint, and almost ready to fall to the ground from the Mountain Road across the Frontier. gaging to convey them safely to Peshawur. It was the best thing to be done under the circumstances — indeed, the only chance of saving the lives of the unfortunate ladies ; ''and so Lady Macnaghten, Lady Sale, and the other widows and wives of the Cabul force became the "guests" of the son of Dost Mahomed Khan. Of their subsequent for- tunes, the hardships they endured, and their ultimate preservation, we read in the admi- rable "Journal" of Lady Sale. The married officers accompanied their families ; and on the loth of January the remnant of what had once been an army staggered forward again in the hope of reaching the haven of refuge, Jellalabad. The effort was vain. Day by day the wretched pony that carried him, slowly making his way to the walls. It was Dr. Brydon, the sole survivor of the force of more than sixteen thousand men who had quitted Cabul only a few days before. Retribution and Vengeance ; Con- clusion, Undaunted, General Sale had now occa- sion to congratulate himself on his refusal to evacuate Jellalabad. Had he issued forth from that stronghold, England would have had to lament the loss of two armies instead of one. As it was, he had reasonable hope of holding out until Pollock, who was march- ing to. his aid, should arrive ; while brave General Nott was upholding the honour of 575 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. England at Candahar. Akbar Khan ad- vanced against Jellalabad ; whereupon the English came out to attack him, and inflicted upon him a complete defeat ; utterly disper- sing the army he had brought against them. This success of the British marked the turning of the tide. Presently Pollock, having fought his way through the Kyber Pass, reached Jellalabad ; and Nott was ready at Candahar to co-operate with the two other generals. Lord Auckland, the Governor- General, had returned to England, and was succeeded by Lord Ellenborough, a man of acknowledged ability, though even then he had acquired the reputation of a tendency to indulge in " brave words," of a showy and theatrical character, not sufficiently followed up by corresponding deeds. On this occa- sion, however, stimulated it is said by an unmistakable expression of public feeling, he concurred in the idea of inflicting chas- tisement on the Afghans for the shame and humiliation brought on our troops by their treachery. Thus, in the summer of 1842, a brilliant series of successes effaced the stain of the defeat and disaster with which the year had begun. On the 1 5th of September Pollock entered Cabul, and as a punishment for that city's treachery, the great bazaar was de- stroyed. The ladies who had become the "guests" of Akbar Khan, and who had suffered much hardship and privation, were given up ; and it was like a piece of poetical justice that the task of effecting their libera- tion should have been entrusted to and com- pleted by General Sale. The return to Cabul and the destruction ot the bazaar where poor Sir William Macnagh- ten's corpse had been exposed to the insults of the populace was a just and necessary vindication of British honour ; but Lord Ellen- borough incurred no little ridicule by a " coup de theatre^'' at which Mahometans and Hindoos alike laughed. He caused the gates of the temple of Somnauth to be carried off from Afghanistan to India, while a pom- pous proclamation set forth how the despoiled tomb of Sultan Mahmoud looked upon the ruins of Ghuznee, and how the insult of eight hundred years was at last avenged. The gates were not genuine relics, and the whole affair excited ridicule alike in England and in the East. Having vindicated the prestige of England, the Government took the very sensible step of leaving Afghanistan to itself. Shah Soojah had been murdered some time before, having gained nothing by the help of his allies but the uncertain tenure of a menaced throne during a few unquiet months, and for this the unfortunate old man had given up the security and affluence he enjoyed in India. Dost Mahomed Khan, released from his honourable captivity, was restored to the throne of which he should never have been deprived. Never was there a more striking example of the folly of hasty intervention in the quarrels of others than was afforded by the events of the first Afghan war. H. W. D. 576 LlELFTHAVEN, WHENCE THE PlLGRIMS SET SAIL FOR THE ISeW WORLD. THE MEN OF THE "MAYFLOWER:" THE STORY OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS AND THE COLONIZATION OF NEW ENGLAND. The Departure from Defthaven— Who were the Puritans— Rise of the Party under Henr>- VIII., Mary, and Elizabeth — Commencement of the Puritan Exodus — Departure frcm England — The Voyage — Landing at Cape Cod — The First Sunday on Shore — ''Welcome, Englishmen!" — The Colonists' First Summer^More Emigrants arrive — Disa- greements with the Merchants— Continued Emigration of the Puritans— The Dorchester Adventurers — Adoption of a Confession of Faith — Civil Laws passed — Roger Williams, one of the Noblest of the Pilgrim Fathers — Intoler- ance of the Puritans — Laws against Witchcraft — Progress of the Colonies. The Departure from Delfthaven. N that low-lying shore, where the slowly-moving Meuse mingles its sluggish waters with a sombre sea, and the grey northern ocean frets for ever in foaming surge on dull-coloured dykes, lies the quiet little port of Delfthaven. Unpicturesque and uninteresting as it may be, it was yet the scene of an episode which may well be termed one of the turning-points of the world's history, — an episode which, though humble in itself, has been produc- tive of the mightiest and most momentous results. For, from that harbour set forth the men who founded the New England over the sea, and who led the way ot that great Puritan emigration which made the Greater Britain across the Atlantic. There were no picturesque surroundings to the humble scene. The huge dykes which shut out the sullen sea from the marshes and mud-banks of Holland, the dull-looking architecture of the old Dutch town, the sombre- coloured quay, the sluggish river, — none of these things presented an imposing picture ; but the scene became singularly affecting and 577 PP EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. •deeply impressive when, as the sun shone ieebly out, a group of sad-faced men and weeping women came slowly from the town to the wharf, and as they reached the water's edge, the pastor of the little flock fell on his knees and, with uplifted hands and heart- stirring voice, besought the blessing of the Almighty on their anxious enterprise. Then followed the lingering embraces and the agonised farewells, the bursts of passionate weeping and choking sobs which tell of break- ing hearts, and those who were bound for the far-off West tore themselves away from their relatives and friends and betook themselves to the little vessel slowly swinging at anchor in the dingy harbour. The sails were spread, the anchor weighed, and with a booming ■ discharge of their little pieces of cannon and a few small arms, the vessel slowly glided from the shore, soon to be hidden below the line of the sea from the tearful, straining eyes of their companions on the quay. And thus, amid blessings and prayers, the little band departed for their unknown future. They went because they had been driven from Old England, the land of their birth and of their love, to seek shelter in exile ; and they set forth now to found a New England in the realms of the setting sun, — a New England where they could carry with them the language and the traditions • of Old England, — a New England where they could establish the life and labour, the manners and the customs, of the Old Country. Here in Holland, whence they had first fled from the persecution of a tyrant Church and a tyrant king, they had met with respect and kindness ; but they yearned for . a home, they felt they were as yet strangers in a strange land, they were pilgrims and • exiles; a strange tongue was spoken around them, the manners and customs of the -country were different, and they feared their children would soon be merged into the people of the Netherlands. Let us go, said their pastor, to that new Western World across the Atlantic, and found there .a new country which shall be but another England, and a better England, seeing that there we can worship God as seems best to us, and no man shall dare to make us afraid. And we may hope to advance the gospel of the kingdom of Christ in the New World, yea, if we be but even stepping-stones unto others for performing so great a work. And so they set forth, they whom the world now knows as " The Pilgrim Fathers," a band of English Puritans, to win for them- selves and their children a new land and a new home, where they might worship God as their conscience dictated. Who were the Puritans. Notwithstanding many opinions to the 578 contrary, there is probably no religious party which has exerted greater influence on the history of the English speaking race than the bitterly persecuted sect known as the English Puritans. It is to them we owe that complete religious toleration which for so many years has proved to be such a rich blessing to our country, giving us compa- rative peace and quietness when other nations have been plunged in the horrors of religious and theological strife ; and it is to them the world very largely owes the exis- tence of that Great Republic formed hy "our kin beyond the sea," upon which they im- pressed their own character and policy to a marvellous degree. No doubt there is much to criticise in many old English Puritans ; their austere theology, their gloomy views of life and religion, their endless disputes, their dreary dogmas, and their bitter fanaticism, are repulsive to us of these latter days, and were repulsive to many in their own day ; but for their tenacious adherence to the great prin- ciple of religious liberty, the principle that each individual has the inalienable right to pursue his own course in rehgious matters without interference from the state or a dominant Church, for their magnificent vindication of this great principle the world owes them lasting honour. And not all of those old Puri- tans were the gloomy fanatics it has been the custom to paint them ; many were cultivated and refined in the highest degree, and were quite willing to give to others the religious toleration they claimed for themselves. Theologically and socially they were divided into four or five distinct parties, and possibly even more: there were the educated gentlemen, scholars and men of high position ; there were mild enthusiasts, of a somewhat lower social class, who wished to give every one the tolera- tion they asked for themselves ; there were coarse and vulgar fanatics ; there were those of the lower classes, socially honest and hardy, but unrefined ; while, alas ! there were disgust- ing hypocrites, the Maw-worms of the satirist. The various religious opinions of these classes differed very largely even among themselves, but with their dogmas we have now nothing to do. It is their ecclesiastical position alone that concerns us — the position they took up that they would suffer persecution and ex- patriation rather than give up the principle of religious liberty. Rise of the Puritans. As everyone knows, or should know, when Henry VIII. abolished the supre- macy of the Pope in England, he estab- lished his own authority instead, and the Church of England, which then differed in doctrine but very slightly from the Church of Rome, took its place, with the very pious THE MEN OF THE ''MAYFLOWER: King Harry as its head. The principle of private judgment in spiritual matters was by no means recognized, and every man in those days had to formulate his faith in accordance with the latest whim of the despot " on the throne, or to suffer for his disobedience. But there were many good and worthy men who strongly objected to this state of things. They maintained, that only to deny the Pope's authority in spiritual matters was not a sufficiently far removal from Romish errors and supersti- tions. They maintained that the Bible, and the Bible alone, should be the trae test and guide in all spiritual matters ; they held that Christ alone could be the true Head of the Church, and further, that His Church was a spiritual Church. They denounced every- thing Popish, and in their zeal they went to such extremes as to maintain that the wear- ing of surplices was as erroneous as the worship of images. Hooper the Bishop of Gloucester (who suffered death in the reign of Mary) was the chief of this party, and it is said that he underwent imprisonment in the reign of Henry VIII. rather than 'wear the episcopal dress then prescribed by law. During the reign of Mary, all parties of Protestants suffered alike, and were united ■in their common opposition to the Papists and the revival of the Pope's authority. But the Act of Uniformity, passed in the first year of Elizabeth's reign, re-established the su- premacy of the Crown in spiritual matters, and re-opened the division between the Protestants. For some years this Act was not rigidly enforced, although much perse- cution went on under it. As time went on, it became quite clear, however, that the Protestants had indeed split into two parties ; and from the fact that many of the Puritans would not, on conscientious grounds, con- form to the Act of Uniformity, they were, and of course are still, known as Non- conformists, and also Dissenters. When Elizabeth died, it has been reckoned that the party numbered one hundred thousand declared adherents. The Puritans hoped much from James I. They forgot he was the son of Mary Stuart, and thought that, as he had been brought up as a Calvinist, and had been partly trained in their views, he would be favourably dis- posed towards them. But he was a Stuart, and far too fond of despotic power. On his accession he found the sweets of spiritual authority too gratifying to be put aside. Therefore, at the famous conference in January, 1604, at Hampton Court, when the Puritan leaders petitioned for a redress of their ecclesiastical grievances, he told them plainly that in his realms he would have but "one doctrine, one discipline, one religion in substance and in ceremony." In effect he went on to say, "You must conform, or I will persecute you out of the land." He did so, and the colonization of New England was the result. The determination of the King to be abso- lute in religious matters was fully upheld by the leaders of the Anglican Church of that day. They utterly failed to see, or refused to see, that the only logical alternative to the Church of Rome is individual liberty of con- science. The idea of Henry VIII., Mary, Elizabeth, or James I., that they were infal- lible, and therefore had the right to dictate to their subjects in religious matters, was particularly unfortunate, as well as utterly illogical, and we can well believe there were many who preferred to remain within the fold of Rome and accept the long estab- lished decrees of that outwardly splendid and superb Church, which, with all its errors, had around it the glamour of tradition, and whose head called himself the Vicar of Christ, than accept as their pope the secular sove- reign, whose opinion varied greatly from year to year or from reign to reign. The whole subject turned on the vexed question of authority in religious matters — the Puritans maintaining that Christ alone has authority over His Church, the Anglicans of that day believing that the sovereign is the proper authority, and the Romanists owning the authority of the Pope. James, however, was determined to be as absolute in spiritual matters as in secular; and the Puritans, who were only prepared to " render unto Cccsar the things which were Ccesar's," or, in other words, to obey him in earthly matters, were persecuted with the utmost severity. And, as usual, persecution only served to increase their numbers. Their position ecclesiastically was so logical and so strong that some of the most vigorous thinkers of the day were to be found in their ranks. Commencement of the Puritan Exodus. As early as 1559 small bands of Dissenters had settled on the coasts of Holland, where, under the equable laws of the Dutch Repub- lic, they enjoyed complete freedom of con- science ; and when the persecution under James I. waxed hot, there were many who turned their eyes longingly to those low-lying shores where their co-religionists had found shelter. About this time there lived in the little town of Scrooby, in Nottinghamshire, an eloquent preacher named John Robinson. He was one of the leaders of a Puritan sect now known as Independents, and used to minister to a small party who were wont to meet secretly for worship in the house of one of their number named Brewster. These 579 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. meetings at length became known, and the bitter persecution which followed determined them to take refuge in Holland. The attempt to escape was first made in 1607, but was frustrated for the time by the authorities ; but in the following year the would-be emigrants were successful, and, under the guidance of their pastor, they formed a religious and social community at Amsterdam. They soon fell into great poverty, and thereupon they moved to Leyden, where for twelve years they seem to have enjoyed a certain amount of pros- perity and peace. By their thrift, hard work, and rehgious conduct, they earned the respect of the Dutch. At that time all Europe was filled with news of the great Western continent, and of the colonies founded there. The wonderful fertility of those far-off shores had been painted in glowing terms by Raleigh and others, and it was to this new land that Robinson turned, as being likely to afford the place of refuge which they needed. There they hoped to establish a colony which should be under English rule, and should be in- habited by none but their own countrymen. Some of their Dutch friends wished to ac- company them, but they would not listen to the proposal. " We go to found a New England^ they said, " where we can pre- serve our language and nationality intact. We wish to live under the protection and government of our native land." Probably the disturbed state of Holland was also another reason why they wished to leave for those vast solitudes across the sea, where they could worship as they pleased, without interference from Church or State. But in such a perilous undertaking it would never do to have those engaged who were not entirely of one heart and one mind. There were many difficulties to be over- come, however, before the emigrants could set forth. They were poor, and had not the means to purchase or hire a vessel to take them across the Atlantic, or to procure the necessary implements for building houses and cultivating the rough soil when they arrived at their destination. Still further, as they had decided to inhabit a territory far removed from the colonies which had already been planted on those far-away shores, they wished to make arrangements with one of the two companies to which different portions of the country belonged, whereby a distinct district might be allotted to them, separate, and indeed remote, from the other colonies, where they could live " in a distinct body by themselves." In 1617, therefore, the intending emi- grants sent John Carver and Robert Cush- man, their minister, to London, who finally entered into arrangements with what was then known as the London Company, to form a plantation in the northern part of Virginia. This State was the first British settlement in North America, having been discovered by John Cabot in 1497. It was taken pos- session of for England by Sir Walter Raleigh in 1584, and by him named Virginia after the virgin-queen, Elizabeth. The Puritans' Petition. The consent of the London Company hav" ing been obtained, there only remained the religious difficulty. A petition was drawn up to King James, stating that the emigrants wished to extend the dominions of England, and to live under English rule, but that, if they risked so much in going to a wild and un- known country, they must have perfect liberty of conscience accorded to them, and wished the same to be confirmed by the sovereign. The narrow-minded and mean king con- sidered that to advance the dominions of England was indeed "a good and honest notion," but wanted to know who were to be their ministers and what was to be their calling. They answered that the power of making ministers required no bishop, and that they hoped to engage in fishing. The King replied grimly that " fishing was an honest trade, and the apostles own calling," and so far all was well ; but as for their rehgious difficulties he must refer their petition to their Graces the Bishops of London and Canterbury. Of course these right reverend fathers could not agree to the Puritans' petition, and the utmost the emigrants could receive was a promiseTh^t they should be neglected. With this they were obliged to be content; and they comforted themselves with the thought that if they had obtained the King's consent, means would have been found to evade or withdraw it, supposing that sufficient interest were taken in them afterwards to wish to persecute them. These difficulties having been overcome, they next formed a jointstock company with some of the London merchants, by the terms of which each emigrant mort- gaged his labour for seven years, and was reckoned as a ;£io shareholder. At the end of seven years all profit was to be reckoned up, and the London merchants, who had advanced 2^ £100, were to receive ten times as much as each settler. This arrangement was obviously very unfair to the Pilgrims, but it appears to have been the only one that they could make, and even as it was the money they could obtain, even on these terms, was barely enough to supply their most pressing needs. Two vessels, the Speedwell and the May- flower, were procured and prepared for their reception. The Speedwell, which was bought in Holland, was a small ship of 580 THE MEN OF THE ''MAYFLOWER:' sixty tons ; and the Mayflower, hired and freighted in England, was of one hundred and twenty tons burthen. These two ships could hold but about a third of Mr. Robinson's congregation, and it was therefore decided that a party of the youngest and strongest men, with a few young women, should go under the leadership of Brewster, the govern- ing elder, while the remainder stayed behind under Mr. Robinson's guidance until they learned how their brethren had fared. As the day drew on for their departure, the emigrants were feasted and feted by their friends and relatives. Special religious exer- cises were also held, for the Pilgrims wished that all their enterprises should be begun, continued, and ended in God. At the farewell services, their eloquent pastor addressed them in high and holy words, which even at this lapse of time stir the heart and breathe a breadth of thought far from universal even now in this en- lightened nineteenth century. " I charge you," said he in a firm voice, that yet shook Avith the strength of his emo- tion, — " I charge you, before God and His blessed angels, that you follow me no farther than you have seen me follow the Lord Jesus Christ. If God reveal anything to you by any other instrument of His, be as ready to receive it as ever you were to receive any truth by my ministry, for I am persuaded the Lord h:\s more truth yet to break forth out of His Holy Word. I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the Reformed Churches, who are come to a period in i-eligion, and will go at present no further than the instruments of their Refor- mation. The Lutherans cannot be drawn to go beyond what Luther saw ; whatever part of His will our good God has revealed to Calvin they will rather die than embrace it. And the Calvinists, you see, stick fast where they were left by that great man of God, who yet saw not all things. This is a misery much to be lamented, for though they were burning and shining lights in their times, yet they penetrated not into the whole council of God ; but were they now living, would be as willing to embrace further light as that which they first received, for it is not possible the Christian world should come so lately out of such thick Antichristian darkness, and that perfection of knowledge should break forth at once." He then went on to tell his followers that their life's work was not to found a settlement by Haarlem Mere nor by the Zuyder Zee, but to carry the Gospel of Christ and plant the flag of religious freedom on those new shores in the realms of the setting sun. We must go to found a New England, the corner-stone of whose constitution shall be complete civil and religious liberty. Departure from England. All preparations being now concluded, the little party set sail from Delfthaven amid the prayers and tears of their relatives and friends. Among the names of those who then sailed we meet with some familiar to us in Longfellow's well-known poem. Thus there were Miles Standish, John Alden, John Carver, William Brewster, — the leader of the little band, — WiUiam Bradford, Edward Winslovv, and others, all pious and godly men. Miles Standish, it may be observed, although well-disposed to them, was not a member of their congregation; but, being a true soldier, and one whose military ex- perience might well be relied upon, the Puritans were glad to have him with them, for it was quite to be expected that they might have to encounter wild savages in this new land, and that his strong arm and knowledge of war might be of great value. The intention of the emigrants was to sail first to Southampton and there join theyl/^y- flozuer, whence the two vessels would sail together for the northern part of Virginia. Southampton was duly reached on the 5th of August, and then dividing their number and their baggage and implements into the two ships, they sailed down Channel. Scarcely had they set forth, however, before it was found that the Mayflower was sadly out of repair, and they were compelled to put in at Dartmouth to refit. Eight precious days passed in the Devon- shire port, and then they set sail once more. Every day was precious now, for the summer was well advanced, and they wished to land as long before winter time as possi- ble. But no sooner had the two little vessels seen the last of their loved England recede below the blue line of the sea, and they began to experience the long roll of the mighty Atlantic waves in all their majestic force, than Reynolds, the captain of the Speed- well, became afraid of facing the ocean in his little barque at that season, and he refused to proceed. There was no help for it there- fore but to return to Plymouth. Here they abandoned the Speedwell and its timorous captain. Some of their number being now obliged to return to London, because there was not sufficient room on board the May- floiver for all, they re-embarked, and on the 6th of September the little vessel — the lonely pioneer of freedom — set forth on its solitary way to the land of the setting sun. The Landing at Cape Cod. Storms and rough weather delayed their passage sadly, and the captain mistook his reckoning and sailed much farther north than was intended, consequently the voyage 581 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. which is now completed in about ten days took them sixty-five I In the meantime, much had been done, for the constitution of their body-politic had been decided upon, — a constitution which affirmed the great principle of American government to be a righteous democracy based upon equal laws and equal rights. On board the little Mayflower, before landing, the following compact was drawn up and signed by all the men present: — " In the name of God, Amen. We, whose names are under written, the loyal subjects of our dread sove- reign King James, having undertaken, for the glory of God, and advancement of the Chris- tian faith, and honour of our King and coun- try, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these pre- sents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God, and of one another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body politic, for our better ordering and preser- vation, and furtherance of the ends aforesaid ; and by virtue hereof, to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most convenient for the general good of the colony. Unto which we promise all due submission and obedience." After signing this document, John Carver was elected governor for the first year, with five magistrates to assist him. There were forty-one signatures, being the names of all the men present, who, with their wives and children, — numbering 102 souls all told, — constituted the first Pilgrim band to New England. They had selected the country near the Hudson River as their point of settlement ; but by reason of a mistake on the part of the captain (or, as some writers state, by reason of his treachery, being bribed by some Dutch settlers who wished to occupy the land fixed upon by the emigrants), they were taken much further north, to the barrenest part of Massachusetts. Wearied and wasted by their long, rough voyage, there were overjoyed to see the dark headland of Cape Cod loom out of the wil- derness of waves at last, and soon after they rounded the cape, and cast anchor in the Bay of Fundy. Their position was miserable in the extreme. The weather was bitterly cold, and the shores wild and bleak ; low sand- hills, sparsely covered with stunted woods, sloped drearily down to the sea. A far different picture indeed from that they had expected to find. Their stock of provisions was very low, and their health much en- feebled by the long and trying voyage ; one of their number had already succumbed to the inclemency of the season and the trials of the journey. But nothing could daunt the bold spirit and resolute will of these stout-hearted Englishmen. They had come to found a colony, and found it they would, or perish in the attempt. As it was useless now to attempt to reach the land they had first decided upon, they had no alternative but to look about them for a suitable spot for settlement. The present spot would not do — a few minutes' walk upon the barren shore soon convinced them of this ; they decided, therefore, to sail round the coasts in the large boat they had brought with them, known as a shallop. But this, like the Mayflower herself when they had first started, was sadly out of repair, and it was nearly three weeks before the slow carpenter pronounced it fit for sea. While these repairs were being executed, Standish and some other of the boldest among them frequently landed, and made excursions to explore the surrounding coun- try. But no suitable spot could be found. The cold was excessive ; the spray froze on their steel corslets, and the bitter wind was their only welcome. In ranging over the country, they came at times upon a few graves of Indians ; occasionally they saw a group of deserted wigwams, near which they once found a few heaps of maize ; and on one occasion saw a desolate house, where they dis- covered more maize and an iron kettle ; the latter had apparently been washed ashore from some European ship, and utilized by the Indians. Of these the explorers saw but little on this their first expedition, and' those of whom they did obtain a glimpse, fled at their approach. To add to their diffi- culties, snow fell in great quantities, and dreariness, desolation, and death seemed to be- their only portion in the land of their choice. Covering over, the graves they had unwit- tingly opened, — for they did not wish to be- sacrilegious or needlessly provoke the hostility of the Indians, — they carried away the corn and the kettle and returned to their ship. When the shallop was ready, they set sail along the coast and landed at various places, but only to meet with disappointment. The snow lay half-a-fodt thick, and they soon became tired of ploughing their way through it. And this day they found "no more corn,, nor anything else but graves." Again, on the 6th of December, they set forth — Carver, Standish, and others — on another voyage of discovery. This time they intended to venture farther afield, for it was evident that there was no spot near, suitable for a settlement. The first night they kindled a watch-fire at Namskeket, or Great Meadow Creek. Huddled around the blaze^ they passed the hours of darkness ; and next morning, before the red winter dawn streaked the eastern sky, they were up, and had scarce 582 THE MEN OF THE ''MAYFLOWER:' finished their prayers before a yelling war- whoop and a cloud of arrows— which rattled harmlessly on their steel corslets — gave evi- dence that Indians were near. Betaking themselves to their little boat again, they continued their course around the dreary shore. The weather was bitterly cold ; the wild wind blew fiercely ; hail and snow beat in their faces ; the spray froze on their clothes ; the sea became so rough and bois- terous that their rudder broke. Steering with their oars they unfurled more sail, for the Sabbath was near, and they had determined to rest upon the holy day. They wished to find a suitable spot where they could keep it in devotional exercises, but they could make but httle headway. The wind was still rising, and presently their little mast, yielding to the great pressure upon it of the extra sail, snapped like a withered branch, and the shallop rolled helplessly in the roaring surge. The pilot wished to run the boat ashore, but the others persisted in keep- ing her before the wind. "If you are men," cried one, " turn her about ! " They did so, and providentially they were presently able to shelter themselves under a high rock. The First Sunday on Shore. The dull twilight of the short winter after- noon had now deepened into night, and all was dark about them. The rain beat pitilessly upon them, but they managed to effect a landing, and with great difficulty they kindled a fire among the rocks. Crouching over the cheery flames they ate their scanty supper and dried their wet clothes, and then sought the rest they so much needed. On looking about them next morning, they found their landing-place to be a small island — which they subsequently named Clark's Island— situated just inside a fair harbour. They were too weak and tired to explore far, but saihng gently round the shore, they saw that the soil appeared better here than the barren sand-hills they had left, and they decided to stay to make further investi- gations. But the next day being Sunday, they desisted from all efforts, and went through their religious observances as though they had been comfortably situated in their old homes. On Monday morning, the nth of December, they sounded the harbour and found it sufficiently deep for shipping. Gratified by this encouraging circumstance, they then landed and proceeded into the interior, where they found what had been cornfields, and running streams of fresh water. The whole neighbourhood seemed to promise better than any they had yet seen, and with joy they returned to the Mayflower to report their good news. In a few more days the sea-worn and weary party landed at the same spot ; and,, true to their purpose to found a New England,, where they might reproduce the best charac- teristics, and even the names, of their old home, they named the place New Plymouth,. in grateful remembrance of the last town.; they had seen in the old country and the- "God speeds" they had received from its inhabitants. The large boulder of rock upon which they landed, and upon which probably the pioneers had landed when a few days- before they had come here, is still preserved,, and named Pilgrim, or Plymouth, or Fore- fathers' Rock to this day. Part of its face has been removed to a spot in the town near the court-house, and the remainder is still pointed out with pride at the head of the longest wharf of the busy town. According to tradition, a young woman named Mary Chilton was the first to step- ashore. She shortly afterwards married John Winslow, and her sister Susannah, Edward Latham; and the direct descendants of both, the Winslows and the Lathams are living to- day in Boston and Bridgewater. But though the emigrants had landed on a favourable spot, the sufferings of these bold, colonists were but little lessened. The soil was hard bound in the bands of an iron frost ; wind and snow fell continuously ; and although the woods soon resounded to the unusual noise of their axes, their progress was but slight. The majority were still obliged to live on board ship. The terrible weather to which they had been exposed, and the- insufficient food, brought on sickness, which swept away half their number. At one period so many were ill that only seven were suffi- ciently well to tend the sick. These sufferings,, and the almost daily burials in the wilderness, sadly hindered and depressed the survivors. The first work to which they set their hands- was to build houses, and it was agreed that each man should raise his own. But the bad weather was so continuous that it was only now and again that they could work. In course of a few months, however, nineteen little wooden tenements were erected, which were quite enough to contain the survivors of the little pilgrim band. Around this group of houses they then proceeded to erect a strong palisade, while .on an eminence, also within the walls, they erected as strong a fortress as they could, on which they mounted six cannon. This fort served two purposes ;. for while the upper part was useful as a point of observation and work of defence, the lower part was used as a church. And thus, in tending their sick, burying their dead, and building their little town, the dreary winter passed, and in March the south wind blew and brought warm and welcome- weather. The snow melted, the birds sang, bright and beautiful spring beamed over the 5B3 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. land. Then they bethought themselves of planting cornfields. " Welcome, Englishmen ! " Up to this time they had seen but little of the Indians. Occasionally they had marked the smoke of the Indian watch-fires rise against the cold, grey winter sky ; and in their exploring expeditions they had found deserted wigwams and other signs of the presence of savages in the vicinity. But one day in early spring they were greatly startled by the sudden appearance of an Indian in their midst, who exclaimed, in their own language, "Welcome, EngHshm,en ! " He proved to be one of the Wampanoa^s, and had picked up a few words of the English language in his intercourse with the fisher- men of Penobscot. He was disposed to be very friendly, and soon introduced them to Massasoit, the chief, with whom they made a treaty of friendship, which lasted a considerable time. In their intercourse with the natives they learned that a terrible pesti- lence had recently swept over this part of the country, which not only accounted for the numerous graves they had seen, but also explained the absence of the aborigines, who had fled farther south. The mistake of the Captain, therefore, in bringing the May- fiower here instead of taking the emigrants, as had been first decided, to the neighbour- hood of the Hudson, probably proved their salvation, for at that time that part of the country was crowded with savages who had fled there from the pestilence which had raged in the neighbourhood of New Ply- mouth. Unfortunately there were other tribes of Indians far less favourably disposed towards the English settlers. Among these were the Narragansetts, who were also at enmity with the friendly Indians ; and one bright morn- ing the English were astonished at receiving a serpent-skin filled with arrows as a declara- tion of war. William Bradford, the head of the little colony, promptly returned the skin, filled with powder and shot, which bold reply, significant of the contempt in which the Eng- hsh held the Indians, produced the intended effect, for the savages had witnessed the deadly powers of the English guns, and for a time the settlers were unmolested, until some years later their enmity was rearoused by the evil deeds of some of the other settlers. Soon after the visit of the Indian who had so strangely bade them welcome, the little colony was greatly grieved by the death of their first governor — John Carver. William Bradford was elected in his stead ; but the new governor ruled over a sadly diminished number, for only fifty were now left alive. The others had fallen victims to the terrible privations and severities of that long and bitter winter. When, therefore, the May- flower returned home in the early spring, it was to leave half her passengers as victims to their struggle for religious freedom. But there was no faltering in the hearts of the survivors, as they stood on the sloping shore and watched the spring sunlight glisten on the white sail now fast disappearing, and leaving them lonely and strange in a strange land. Yet resolute and stern though they were, their hearts were saddened and softened as they thought of the distant home to which their little vessel was returning, and which they themselves would see no more. The Colonists' First Summer. But there was no time to give way to these feelings, natural though they were. There was hard and stern work before these men and women, and well they knew it. A wild and desolate region had to be brought into cultivation, and meanwhile they were often famishing for want of food. '" I have seen," says Winslow, " men stagger by reason of faintness for want of food;" and frequently at night they knew not whence the food for the next day would come. For some time they had no corn, and subsisted entirely on fish. It is worthy of remark, however, that after the season of the greatest mortality had passed, the survivors — about fifty in number — lived to a good old age. Their material progress was but very slow. The land was not fertile, and their toil was incessant. A space of ground, three poles in length by half a pole in breadth, had been allotted to each person upon which to build a house and cultivate a garden, other- wise the land was held in common, and all shared alike. This arrangement produced great discontent, for the idle did not work, and yet reaped as large a proportion as those who were industrious. The plan v/as therefore continued only two years ; and in 1623, land was allotted to each person, as had been the case with the gardens. This new arrangement answered much better. Each family felt that their bread depended on their own exertions, and, indeed, it pro- duced such good effects that even the women and children went out into the fields to work. Soon so much corn was produced that the Indians used to purchase it, giving beaver skins and the fur of other animals in ex- change. Before this prosperity was reached, however, the colonists had to pass through several seasons of scarcity and want, and it seemed as though their trials and difficulties would never end. More Emigrants arrive. During the summer and autumn of 1621, 584 THE MEN OF THE ''MAYFLOWER." other Puritan settlers — undeterred by the accounts taken home by the Mayflozuer of the difficuhies the first emigrants had to meet — arrived from England, and being totally unprovided with the necessaries of life, they made great demands on the slender stores of the early colonists. It is said that they were in these days frequently at star- vation point, at times being reduced to live on the shell-fish from the shore, their corn having been all used. Yet, notwithstanding all trials and difficulties, they never lost their faith in God nor in the future prosperity of their colony. In the summer of 1622, another community of colonists also arrived ; these men were form menial work for food. This appears to have led to a quarrel, and a conspiracy was formed among the savages to murder all the English. But Massasoit, with whom the Pilgrims had made the friendly treaty, and who had always treated him well, re- vealed the design. Standish saw the desperate nature of the situation, and, accompanied with eight men, immediately marched off to the wigwams of the chief conspirators ; and, without a word of parley, he attacked them. He had frequently been insulted by some of the savages because he was a small man, and we may perhaps imagine that he was not altogether dis- pleased to have an opportunity of giving Tut; PiLGUiJib' First Fort and JMeeting-house at New Plymouth. known as Weston's Company. They be- longed to the Church of England, and were brought over by Thomas Weston, one of the merchants who had advanced money to the Pilgrim Fathers. He imagined that a pro- fitable trade might be established in furs ; but neither he, nor the men whom he brought with him, were of the character likely to cope successfully with the difficulties of an early settler's life. They were improvident and disorderly, and soon exhausted the supplies brought with them. The emigrants at New Plymouth assisted them so far as they were able, but the distress continued. They parted with all their goods, and some of them took service with the Indians to per- them a taste of his quality. Seeing four of his tormentors in a wigwam by themselves, he instantly marched in with three of his followers, and, without a word on either side, a desperate hand-to-hand encounter took place. The door had been closed by the last Englishman who entered ; no help came from either side. With frowning brow and compressed lips they began the combat at once ; it was long and bloody, and did not end until three of the Indians were slain. Standish attacked his opponent with a de- termination and energy which bore down all opposition, and desperately though the Indian fought, he was killed at last. The fourth savage was taken captive, and finally 58^ EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. hanged. After this the other Indians were soon put to flight, and Standish and his eight men returned victorious and exultant. This was the first fight with the Indians, and it is well worthy of note that it was not caused by the Pilgrims themselves. Indeed, they were anxious to be on friendly terms with the natives, and to trade with them. A triumphant account of this — Stan- dish's capital exploit, as it was termed — was soon forwarded to their friends at Leyden. But instead of the joyful congratulation they expected, their pastor, Mr. Robinson, sent them in reply a gentle rebuke. " How happy a thing," he wrote, "if you had converted some before you killed any." There is every reason to believe, however, that it was a stern necessity which compelled Standish's " capital exploit," and that it was of immense importance to the infant colony, not only in preserving it from a foul and treacherous conspiracy, but in intimidating the Indians, and showing them of what stern and resolute stuff the English settlers were made ; thus, it doubtless saved further blood- shed. As for Weston's Company, who were responsible for this unhappy episode, a few short months saw the end of its efforts. Some of the men died of hunger and cold, some returned to England, while a few seem to have cast in their lot with their preservers at New Plymouth. At all events, as a separate colony, Weston's Company was at an end. Disagreements with the Merchants. All this time Robinson and the remainder of his congregation at Leyden were anxiously seeking the means of joining their brethren in New England, but they could not pro- cure the necessary funds. The merchants who had advanced the money to the first colonists absolutely refused to risk any more ; they were not satisfied with the small profits from their investments, and contentions had arisen between them and their partners at New Plymouth. The merchants endeavoured to force upon the colonists a clergyman more favourable to the Established Church than they deemed desirable, and the goods sent were sold to the emigrants at the enormous advance of seventy per cent. Naturally these and similar acts of unfair treatment produced great dissatisfaction, and the emi- grants finally borrowed money at high interest to pay off their partners in England. Unhappily, when these arrangements were complete and the gradual increase of pros- perity enabled the remainder of Mr. Robin- son's congregation at Leyden to follow their friends, their good pastor had passed away. Like Moses, he died before he reached the promised land,— the land that offered a resting-place from pilgrimage and exile, — the land to which he had directed his followers. His bones were buried by the Rhine, and the colony which he did so much to esta- blish, and which never gladdened his sight,, flourished afar off. In 1626, the year following his death, his- wife and children, with the remainder of his congregation, joined their brethren at New Plymouth, At that time the little town con- sisted of about thirty-two small wooden houses, built within the palisades, and the population numbered nearly one hundred and eighty persons. They had established a manufacture of salt from the sea, with which commodity they cured fish, and were now so successful as to be able to freight a vessel with a cargo for export. In Novem- ber 1624, the little town of wooden houses had been nearly all burned down, but had been soon re-built. The principles of self- government had been steadily adhered to, the Governor and Council being chosen hj general suffrage, while for several years the numbers of the population was so small that all the male inhabitants were included in the Legislature. The laws enacted were ex- ceedingly severe, but as a matter of fact were very mildly administered. Thus, death was the punishment for most crimes, but it was never inflicted except in cases of murder. But in those early years, these crimes were never committed. The fact that the Pilgrims had been carried so far north from their contemplated place of settlement on the Hudson, and the fact also that the patent from the London Com- pany had been made out in the name of one of their number who eventually never sailed, rendered that patent of no value. The land on which they had settled belonged for colonising purposes to the Plymouth (England) Company ; and in the year follow- ing the landing of the Pilgrims (1621), they- obtained a patent from this Company, which secured to them their possessions, although, as James still refused to grant a charter, the settlers had no abstract right — according to the principle of English law then in vogue — to assume self-government and a separate jurisdiction. The Pilgrim Fathers, however, were made of far too stern stuff to be bound by nominal restrictions, and, as we have seen, they did not scruple to exercise their principles of self-government, and inflict punishments for crime whenever necessary. The Plymouth Company, with which the Pilgrims had now to do, appears to have originally consisted of forty noblemen and gentlemen, for the planting, ruling, ordering,, and governing New England in America. The title " New England " seems to have been borrowed from the Pilgrims, who were, however, for some time completely ignored. It was this Company which granted the S86 THE MEN OF THE ''-MAYFLOWER:' patent to Weston's Company, and also to some others which proved as great failures as did that brought over by Weston. In 1621, the Plymouth Company endeavoured to obtain some benefit from their vast tracts of land by levying a tax on the English fish- ing vessels. As they were not disposed to plant and cultivate themselves, this was the only plan for obtaining an immediate revenue. But these extortions were opposed by the House of Commons, and the debates which ensued reveal the unsettled state of affairs between the colonies and the mother country. And it is worthy of note that Sir George Calvert, the principal advocate of the claims of the Company, argued that the American settlements were outside the jurisdiction of Parliament, as they were not annexed to the realm of. England. On the other hand, it was argued that an Act passed by Lords and Commons and signed by the Sovereign would control the patents granted to the colonists. During several sessions these debates were continued, and a Bill was finally passed which strictly limited the rights of the Companies. And although the King refused to sign the Bill, yet the unmistakable expression of the opinion of the Houses of Parliament was of great service. Among other results may be noted the fact that many of the members of the Plymouth Company lost heart in their enterprise, and the colonization of New England was henceforth left almost wholly to private endeavour. It was clear that the best course the Council could pursue would be to abandon all absurd pretensions, and grant lands, if possible, to such parties of stern, hard-working, practical men who would be able to cultivate and occupy the soil within a few years. Meanwhile the Pilgrim Fathers, quietly ignoring all these discussions and claims, had been steadily working and gradually prospering. While others had been talking, they had been doing. A small community for trading had been established ; the Indians were friendly, and brought them many furs ; their corn-fields were flourishing. These facts are the more worthy of remark as nearly every other attempt to colonize New England up to this time appears to have failed. The other colonists had not the resolute character necessary to cope with difficulties, nor the zeal for religious liberty which caused these mighty men (for mighty they were if we regard the innumerable hardships and diffi- culties they had to overcome) to give up everything rather than forfeit so precious a right ; they had not the iron wills which had been born by the scenes of gloom and misery, of persecution and trial through which the Puritans had passed. The stern spirit of self-denial and of simple living, the thrift, the tact, the indomitable perseverance which characterized the Pilgrims, — all were wanting in the other colonists. Continued Emigration of the Puritans. The accounts brought back to the southern coasts of England of the success of the Pilgrim Fathers and the religious freedom which they enjoyed, coupled with the grow- ing discontent of the English Puritans at the constant persecution to which they were subject, stimulated their determination to follow the men of the Mayflower into the wild regions of North America. A Puritan clergyman named White, the Rector of Trinity Church, Dorchester, was prominent in urging his hearers to a great effort to colonize the wilderness, and to carry the pure Gospel to the benighted lands where a faithful few are already busy at work. "Think not," said he, "that better times shall come to you in England. This hope is a vain dream, and will prove a delusive snare. Prince Charles has espoused a Catholic wife, so that he does not promise to be well affected toward us when he shall come to the throne. Purity of religion and freedom of conscience can only be found ia the New World. Let us go there, and found a new nation that shall be both English and truly Christian." The aid of the press was also invoked, and publications were issued by eloquent and enthusiastic men urging their Puritan brethren to emigrate. Other arguments were also adduced, and by them we may suppose that the cries of " over- population " and " keen-competition were heard as much in the days of the first Stuarts as they now are. The consequence of these great efforts was that an extensive movement for emigration was organized among the Puritans of the south-western counties. Indeed, numbers all over the land prepared to follow the Pilgrim Fathers into the wilderness to seek an asylum from persecution. Negotiations for a tract of land were entered into with the Plymouth Company, who were all the more ready to accede to their proposals by reason of the complete failure of their attempts to obtain a monopoly of the fishery rights. And at length a deed was drawn up, dated the 19th of iVEarch, 1628, and called "The Colony of Massachusetts Bay Patent," by which the Plymouth Council sold to Sir John Young, Sir Henry Russell, and others, for the purposes of planting and settling all that part of North America which lies and extends between Merrimac River and Charles River, in the bottom of Massa- chusetts Bay, and three miles to the north and south of every part of Charles River, and three miles south of the southernmost part of the said bay, and three miles to the north of S87 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. €very part of Merrimac River, and all lands and hereditaments whatsoever lying within the limits aforesaid, north and south in lati- tude and breadth, and in length and longitude •of and within all the breadth aforesaid, throughout the mainland, thence from the Atlantic Sea in the east part to the Pacific Sea in the west part." About a year later, on the 4th of March, 1629, this charter was contirmed by King Charles I.; by which we may gather that there was as much dilatoriness then as there is said to be now in governmental affairs. It will be seen that this charter, or patent, no more than any other, authorized the exer- cise of separate political or judicial power. These companies of colonists seem to have been regarded rather as trading associations, to which it was thought necessary to give certain rights, in order to facilitate the ex- pansion of trade, than as separate com- munities. It would seem, therefore, that many men in those days utterly failed to grasp the principal idea which animated the Puritans, and which they had in view when they emigrated ; for they went not only to plant and colonize for the purposes of trade, but to found a community, where they could practise those principles which were then denied them in England, and which have had their full fruition in the great American Republic. In anticipation these far-seeing men enjoyed the thoughts of their future influence on ages yet unborn, and of the fame which they would obtain as the founders of New England. The Dorchester Adventurers. As early as 1623, Mr. Whice had been Tnstrumental in forming an unincorporated joint-stock society, which, under the name of ■"The Dorchester Adventurers," emigrated to Massachusetts Bay, with the object of prosecuting a ti'ade in dried fish. This at- tempt was a failure ; and next year the " Ad- venturers '■' obtained some land near Cape Anne from the New Plymouth emigrants. This proceeding also was not very successful, and all the settlers deserted save four, one of whom was Roger Conant, who seems to have been a wise and prudent man. He and his three colleagues removed to a better place for planting a colony, about twelve miles to the south-west of Cape Anne ; and here they hung on until just as they were on the point of returning from sheer necessity, letters of encouragement were received from White, promising to send over help if they would but continue in their endeavours. In 1628 the advance guard of this second great Puritan emigration set sail. It con- sisted of about a hundred colonists, under the leadership of John Endicot, a man of indomitable will and fierce religious zeal. His companions unanimously agreed that he was the best man to be leader in " this wild wilderness work." And, indeed, when he landed and saw the bleak and dreary wilder- ness to which they had come, and found Roger Conant and his three colleagues so much reduced by want and hardships, he felt indeed that he needed all his courage and resolution. Thick and gloomy forests, wild and uncultivated waste land, greeted them on every side, while, as winter came on, the severely cold weather and lack of comfortable homes caused many to sicken and die. The early Pilgrims sent them a doctor from New Plymouth, who stayed with them all through the winter. But notwithstanding all difficulties, English courage would not be beaten, and we find that seven of these dauntless men beat their way through the tangled woods to the spot where the city of Charlestown now stands. To their surprise they found that English enterprize had preceded them, for they found one of their countrymen already living there in a wooden shanty Next year a still larger number of colonists set forth. The news of the success of those who had already gone was published abroad all over the land, and Puritans everywhere began to think of voyaging across the At- lantic. Six small vessels were collected, — one of them being the MayJlozver, — 2iVi^ on the 1st of May they departed for New England. Accounts differ as to the number who em- barked, from 250 to 350 being the numbers given. They took horses, cows, and goats, and also cannon and musketry, with which to arm a fort. The voyage lasted two months ; and it was not till the 24th of June that the colonists saw the few mud or wooden hovels, surrounded by rough corn-fields, which showed that they had arrived at their new home. One-third of the new emigrants went at once to Charlestown, and the remainder stayed with Endicot, and founded the town of Salem. In the following spring a still larger num- ber departed from England. Seventeen ships were chartered, and 1,500 Puritans, among whom were some persons of high rank, set sail from different ports for the distant West. From Southampton proceeded the Atabella and a few sister vessels, which sailed down Southampton Water in the glad sunlight of a bright May morning, amidst the resounding cheers of the crowds which lined the beach. And though the religious zeal of the exiles had been stirred to the utmost by the im- passioned appeals of their eloquent pastors, and their determination to suffer expatriation for conscience' sake never failed, yet as the loved shores of England faded from their view, their sternness melted, and instead of THE MEN OF THE ''MAYFLOWER:' denouncing their country as the home of persecution, they sorrowfully said with tear- dimmed eyes, " Farewell ! dear, dear England." At Yarmouth, also, a great number set forth under the leadership of John Winthrop, a man so highly esteemed for his sincere and unaffected piety, benevolence of temper, and righteousness of judgment, that he was ap- pointed governor of the new colony. Before leaving Yarmouth a declaration of their views was published, in which they set forth the reasons for their removal, and bade a touch- ing farewell to the countrymen and land of their birth. " Our hearts," they said, " shall be fountains of tears for your everlasting welfare, when we shall be in our poor cot- tages in the wilderness." At intervals during the latter part of June and early days of July, 1630, the ships arrived at Salem, — to find poverty, hardship, and sickness. IMany of the earlier colonists had died, and the others were on the brink of starvation. Tents of sail-cloth were speedily erected for temporary protection, and the colonists then sought for suitable sites for towns. Among other places, Boston was one city the foundations of which were then laid, doubtless by some settlers from Lin- colnshire. This spot was fixed upon because it had " sweet and pleasant springs, and good land affording rich corn-fields and fruitful gardens." But sickness soon became busy among these as among the former parties of colonists, and strong men who feared nothing, became utterly broken as they saw their loved ones fade from their eyes to a premature grave. Before the holy Christmas time came round, quite two hundred had died. Many were there who had been ac- customed to the refinements and comforts of life which wealth in those days could bring, and the arduous life they were now compelled to live told severely against them. Among the first to succumb was the excellent Lady Arabella Johnson, sister of the Earl of Lincoln, and wife of Mr. Isaac Johnson, one of the richest men in the colony, and very zealous for pure religion. Not long after her death he followed his wife to the tomb, pass- ing peacefully away. As winter drew on they were often reduced to subsist on mussels and shell-fish from the sea-shore. Acorns and ground-nuts also fur- nished them with many repasts. The first Pilgrims at New Plymouth rendered them all the assistance they were able ; but they had exhausted all supplies when, on the 5th of February, 1631, a vessel amved from Eng- land bringing the mucii needed stores. The reports of the great poverty of the new settlements and of the terrible hardships and bitter winters, deterred many others from coming over; and in 1631 only ninety new emigrants cheered those who had already gone. In 1632, about 250 came. But mean- while, in spite of all difficulties and privations, the infant colonies were slowly prospering. The trials through which the settlers passed served but to strengthen their faith, and no repining or rebellion against the Almighty appears in their records. At stated times their public meetings for worship were held— some- times in the open waste, and sometimes under a spreading tree. They had come hither to obtain civil liberty and treedom of conscie.vce, to put into practice certain doctrines they held dearer and more precious than life itself, and even as martyrs went cheerfully to the stake rather than yield, so these noble men and women calmly and contentedly pursued their course, believing they were doing God service and fulfilling His will. Adoption of a Confession of Faith. Not long after their arrival, the settlers at Salem held communications with the Pilgrims of New Plymouth as to their form of Church government ; and after some correspondence on the subject, they decided to establish a similar organisation to that which the older colonists had already adopted. The 6th of August, 1629, was devoted to fasting and prayer, and a confession of faith, embodying- Puritan principles, was drawn up and signed by many there present. Several ministers from New Plymouth attended, and after the cere- mony, a pastor, a teacher, and an elder of the New Church were elected, although there were some dissentients. The fact is that, although all the colonists were Puritanically inclined, all were not separatists from the Church of England ; and Dr. Cotton Mather says, in his " Ecclesiastical History of New England," that when the emigrants of 1629 were leaving their native land, their pastor, Francis Hig- ginson, said to his company : " We will not say, as the Separatists were wont to say at their leaving of England, ' Farewell Babylon ! Farewell Rome !' for such they used to call her in their exaggeration of their Puritanical fervour ; but we will say, ' Farewell, dear England ! Farewell, the Church of God in England, and all the Christian friends there. We do not go to New England as separatists from the Church of England, though we cannot but separate from the corruptions in it." It will therefore be readily understood that dissensions soon arose, for there were those among them who determined to worship according to the old form of the Anglican Church, and ignored the new organization al- together. Unhappily the true principle of religious liberty seems to have been quite for- gotten by many among them, and the Puritans themselves repeatedly violated the great law of freedom of conscience they had crossed 589 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the seas to practise. They objected to the supremacy of the king or his archbishops in religious affairs, but they wished to sub- stitute their OAvn supremacy ; and their bigotry in favour of their own religious forms was, unhappily, quite as great as that of Laud himself. So long as the members of the community were separatists and thought alike, or fairly alike, well and good, but directly any one showed independence of judgment they quarrelled with him, pun- ished him, or in some cases sent him back to England. Woefully wrong though this was, we must yet remember the sufferings and persecution that had been inflicted upon them at home by the doiranant Church, and we cannot wonder at their dislike to it in any form. It was not, however, from feel- ings of revenge that they opposed its profes- sors in America, but because they appeared to believe that Dissent, or a very purified form of Anglicanism, was the only righteous form of religion. Passing of Civil Laws. Soon after the arrival of Governor Win- throp in 1630, a number of laws were passed, all decreeing severe punishments against evil-doers. Whipping seems to have been the principal penalty inflicted. Thus we find that one man was whipped for shooting on the Sabbath day ; another for striking a neighbour ; another for stealing ; another for uttering bad language against the court, etc., etc. This punishment was also varied by the stocks, while for criminal offences death was decreed. These severe laws were administered with the utmost impartiality, and there were careful restrictions, so that the magistrates could not impose penalties from individual malice. Thus we find that Endicot himself was fined forty shillings — a large sum in the colony in those day — for striking a man, even though he had received considerable provocation. One very impor- tant law that was passed required compensa- tion to be given to the Indians for damages done them by the colonists. It will thus be seen that the constitution of the Massachusetts colony was, like that at New Plymouth, essentially democratic ; and although the composition of the govern- ing body was frequently changed during the early years of its existence, yet the leading principles remained inuch the same. Un- fortunately, as time went on, the rulers did not relax their laws against religious liberty ; and Cotton Mather records the case of a man named Blaxton, who refused to join any of the colonies or towns, for he said, "As he left England because he would not be coerced by the Lord Bishops, so he left the colonies because he would not be coerced by the Lord Brethren." Meantime, constant intercourse was kept up with the colony at New Plymouth, and the most friendly relations were maintained with the Indians, many tribes of which solicited the help of the English against their enemies ; thus we find that in the autumn of 1632, Governor Winthrop and the Rev. Mr, Wilson, the pastor of Boston, walked from the latter settlement to New Plymouth without suffering any molestation. The early difficulties of both colonies were now overcome ; more emigrants arrived every year ; the system of electing representatives to a <:eneral assembly or parliament was adopted, and a true commonwealth began to arise out of the chaos of little colonies established by joint-stock enterprise. About this time there were twenty little towns scattered over the shores of Massa- chusetts Bay, and of these Boston was regarded as the capital and the fittest for public assemblies. These towns, most of which were known by familiar English - names, such as Ipswich, Dorchester, Wey- mouth, etc., were, of course, small and irregularly built, many of them consist- ing only of a few cabins made of mud and thatched with straw. Paper that had been soaked in oil and dried, served as a substitute for glass in the windows, while the smoke escaped by a hole in the roof. Others there were, more substantially built of wood, but generally speaking the dwell- ings were as rough as they well could be, and the furniture was as rough as the rooms. The group of buildings was enclosed in a palisade, as a protection against the attacks, not so much of Indians as of the wolves and other wild animals which infested the forests near. For the dense and tangled woods came close to the little cleared space around the villages, and lulled the settlers to sleep with their murmuring music in the still summer evenings, or kept them awake in the wild winter nights as the stormy wind moaned through their mysterious and gloomy depths. Here and there small spaces of ground had been cleared, and, together with the plots near the houses, were being steadily cul- tivated, principally with corn. Kine and goats, sheep and pigs, had been imported, and had increased in large numbers. Fish had been caught, dried, and cured, and formed a staple article of export ; furs and timber were also sent abroad, and formed a great source of profit to the colonies. Other trades and businesses were also established, although agricultural pursuits, hunting, and fishing formed the principal occupations of the emigrants. For food they entirely de- pended on the corn they raised, the animals they hunted, or the fish they caught. For several years the colonies of New 590 THE MEN OF THE ''MAYFLOWERS England were increased by the further influx of Puritans from Britain, and in 1634, the colonists numbered about four thousand per- sons. The iron rule of Laud and Strafford ■caused numbers to leave their homes for the wilderness, especially as the accounts were now far more cheering, and the colony, liaving taken deep root, was now progressing rapidly. Bancroft, the historian of the United States, says that 21,200 Puritan emigrants left England from 1620 till the year 1640, when Laud was imprisoned, and the rule of the Long Parliament ended the persecution of the Puritans and caused the movement as a distinctive one to cease. The work accomplished by these men during these years was enormous, and the progress of the colony truly marvellous. In 1643, they had cleared the ground for and partially built fifty towns, thirty villages, and forty chapels. Their export trade was largely increasing, not only to the mother country, but to the West Indies ; while, above all, they had commenced to build their own ships, and bad vessels on the stocks of over four hundred tons burthen. Other colonies on the same shores had not been equally successful. The Dutch, French, and Spanish had established settlements, and other men from England had planted, but none had achieved the success of the Puritan population of New England. Roger Williams, one of the noblest OF THE Pilgrim Fathers. Unhappily there were blots — foul and dark blots — on the early history of the New Eng- land settlements ; and amongst these we must mention the terrilale law which inflicted torture and even death upon any infringement of the severe code of Puritanical worship. The spirit of intolerance seemed to grow every year, and when any opposition manifested itself, it only caused the spiritual despotism to wax hotter. Roger Williams, a young Welsh preacher, one of the greatest and noblest of the Puritan emigrants, speedily detected this spirit of intolerance, and early preached against it. He denounced with all the force of his fervid eloquence the re- enactment of the very tyranny — though ex- hibited in a different form — which they had fled from England to escape. Roger Williams, in his enthusiasm, would tolerate all classes and all sects. He seems to have had some ;glimpse of the great truth that the /arm of worship is of little value so that the spirit be sincere. The preaching of this pious and gifted man seems to have been eagerly listened to by crowds of colonists, and his influence was powerful and far-reaching. The Rev. Cotton Mather says of him that ■*'the windmill in the young Welshman's head seemed likely to turn everything topsy- turvy in the settlement." At last it was decided to force him back to England. But when the armed men went to the settlement where his house was situated he had fled. Like the true pioneer of pro- gress and civilization that he was, he was forcing his way, alone and unaided, through the thick forests to the Indian settlement, bent on accomplishing alone the great object which the Pilgrims had so far failed to accom- plish, — the establishment of a settlement where true religious liberty should be the ruling principle. History records fewer examples of splendid courage and resolute endurance. "For fourteen weeks," he wrote, " I was tossed in bitter season, not knowing what bed or bread did mean," living on roots and berries. But the Indians grew so fond of him that " the barbarous heart of Canonicus, the chief of the Nar- ragansetts, loved him as his own son till his last breath." A deed from Canonicus granted to him the whole of Rhode Island; and crossing over to it in his canoe, Williams encamped on a spot which he named " Providence," and which is now the thriving and prosperous capital of a thriving and prosperous state. In the meantime the Narragansetts had come to terms with their enemies the Pequod Indians, and the latter urged them to break with the English. In the winter of 1636, therefore, a hasty summons was sent to Williams by the very men who had driven him forth, to come and exert his influence with the Narragansetts to prevent war. The dauntless man at once set forth, and travelling night and day through the frost-bound and snow-covered wilderness, he arrived at length at the camp of wigwams where the great Indian palaver was being held. Canonicus and Miantonimoh, chiefs of the Narragan- setts, and both devoted friends of Williams, listened quietly to his earnest entreaties, but for a long time they would not yield. For three days did the devoted man plead the cause of his countrymen who had wronged him, and for three nights did he sleep calmly near the houses of the enraged Pequods. At length the Narragansetts acceded to his pro- posals, and decided to hold by their treaty with the English and reject the terms of the Pequods. The latter, however, determined to attack the English alone, and two battles took place, in which the English were so successful that they struck terror into the hearts of the savages, and the colonists were unmolested for some time. Unhappily Roger Williams was not able to influence the authorities of New England against intolerance. They were anxious to secure his eloquence on their behalf when in 591 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. trouble with the Indians, but they were not disposed to yield on points of ecclesiastical government. Another prominent victim was Mrs. Anne Hutchinson. She was a woman of peculiar doctrinal views, and the ministers soon ar- raigned her of heresy. She was ultimately banished, and with her family took refuge in Rhode Island with Williams, where, indeed, a great number of New Englanders were constantly arriving. Mrs. Hutchinson, fearing she was not sale from persecution even here, escaped even- tually to the Dutch settlements, when one fearful night she and her family, all but one child, were surprised and massacred by Indians. The news of the intolerance of the Puritan governors was not long in reaching England, and certain fussy females took upon them- selves to journey to the wilderness to pro- test against such doings, and to defy the authority of the ministers. Thus we find that one lady journeyed from London for this express purpose, and it is recorded that she received twenty stripes for her pains and was promptly sent home again. But others arrived, many of them young Quakeresses burning with lively zeal against the Puritans; and although they were banished to Rhode Island, they continued to return, until at last, in pursuance of the terrible laws of death passed against all persons of this sect, they were executed. The most prominent of these was Mary Dyar. Another of these prosely- tising young Friends— named Mary Fisher — subsequently sailed to Adrianople for the pur- pose of publicly rebuking the Sultan for his Mahommedanism. The innocent Orientals thought her mad, and treated her with the courteousness and kindness which they bestow upon all whom Allah has so terribly afflicted ; whereupon Miss Fisher drew a most affecting contrast between the persecut- ing New Englanders and the "gentlemanly" Turks. However much we may reprobate — and we do most strongly — the fierce intolerance of these early settlers in New England, and their forgetfulness of the wise words of Mr. Robinson and others of their leaders, yet we must remember that they only wished people who thought as they did to come to their colonies. There was plenty of room for the others to have gone elsewhere. The penal code against Quakers was well known, and all who entered the settlement entered it in gratuitous defiance of these laws ; whereas, in the Old World, the persecuted people were proceeded against in their old homes. Here, many of them deliberately walked into persecution, and did their ut- most to court a martyr's crown, when they might have easily remained in Rhode Island or have removed there when they found the existence of the penal laws. The law was however at length repealed. William Leddron was the last Quaker victim, and he was offered his life if he would leave the colony and promise never to return. But he reiused to compromise, and was hanged forthwith. And yet, we may add upon the authority of an unimpeachable witness, Roger Williams himself, that these pitiless persecutors were, in all other relations of life, the best and kindest of men. " I know they mean well," said the benevolent Williams; "I am sure they are earnest, sincere, and naturally kind- hearted men ; they verily believe they are serving God, whilst they are nevertheless doing the work of the devil." Thus the measure of their cruelty was the fervency of their zeal. Not less bitter was the fury of the New Englanders against witchcraft, a savage super- stition brought with them from the mother country, and which lingered there in nooks and corners of the land long after it had died out in America. Both Dr. Cotton Mather and his son, who rejoiced in the curious name of Increase Mather, were fearful foes to witches; and the latter lamented sorely when common sense and the increasing love of true liberty led the New England citizens to stop the cruel persecution. The last witch-court was held at Charlestown on Feb, 17th, 1693, and all the witches then in custody were discharged. But these internal dissensions, and wars with the savages, did not hinder the social and material progress of the New England colonies. When the first difficulties of emi- gration were over, the settlements rapidly increased in wealth and influence. And ever since New England may be said to have been the intellectual centre of the great Republic of the West, and to have impressed its own characteristics, to a large extent, upon the whole commonwealth. It was in New England that free schools were first established, and the slave trade was first declared a capital felony ; while her people were the life of that great agitation which finally swept the foul blot from the fair face of the New World. Through a stormy and troublous dawn she has passed on to the full light of a splendid day, and many thousands of our kindred across the sea acknowledge with pardonable pride that they are the lineal descendants of those hardy English Pilgrims who made the desert wilds to blossom as the rose. F. M. H. 592 Fort on the Island of Scio. THE MASSACRE OF SCIO: A STORY OF THE GREEK REVOLT AGAINST TURKEY. " Chios, the island of renown and wealth and noble men, which shone upon the Sea of Greece like the star of morning on the gloomy sky, the fairest seat of commerce, benevolence, and learning — Chios the Blessed." CONSTANTINE OiKONOMOS. The Centuries of Turkish Despotism— Origin and Fierce Temper of the Revolution— The Force of Wealth and Education- Secret Societies— Invasion of Hypsilantes— The Sacred Battalion— Noble End of the Patriot Georgaki— The Flag hoisted in the Morea— A Fighting Bishop—" Death to the Turks ! "-Bloodshed at Patras— Massacres by Greeks- Dreadful Scenes in Constantinople— Execution of the Patriarch— A Canopy of Vultures— The " Hares" of the A;gean — First Cruise of the Greek Fleet— Timid Scio— Individual Sacrifice and National Aspiration— W; y Scio did not rise— The Island overrun— The Harems and their Mastic— Despatch of a Turkish Force— The Chiote Peasant and the Samians— Wretched Rivalry of the Patriots— The Vengeance of the Turk— " Fire, Sword, Slavery "—Flight of the Samians— Dreadful Massacres, Ruin, and Universal Plunder by Asiatic Hordes— Slaughter of the Monks— The Slaves and Fugitives— Sailing of the Greek Fleet— The Vengeance of Kanaris— The Fire-ships— Fate of two thousand Turks — Navarino and the Independence of Greece. power Wrongs of the Greeks. HE scope and the method of the daring and ghastly revolution of the Greeks — when a nation only a mil- lion strong rose against a gigantic stretching from the banks of the Tigris to the deserts of Algeria — are un- fofded in a single paragraph from the pen of the English historian of modern Greece : " In the month of April, 1821, a Mussulman population, generally of the Greek race, amounting to upwards of twenty thousand 593 QQ EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. souls, was living, dispersed in Greece, em- ployed in agriculture. Before two months had elapsed, the greater part was slain ; men, women, and children were murdered on their own hearths, without mercy or remorse. . . . The crime was a nation's crime, and whatever perturbations it might produce must be in a nation's conscience, as the deeds by which it must be expiated must be the acts of a nation," Whole Mus- sulman families were destroyed in hundreds of villages, and as no orthodox Christian would pollute his soul by digging a grave for an infidel, the carcases of men, women, and children were piled up in outhouses, which were then set on fire. The stormy dawn has broken over Greece after the long night of centuries, during which the Western World had almost lost sight of her except as a museum of classical anti- quities, and heard little of her servile and decayed inhabitants but that on occasions they were butchered and sold into slavery. Travellers and official Turks, who had the foolhardiness to venture their persons and their pockets among the independent moun- tains, fell into the clutches of the Klephts, robbers of a far more ruthless type than the brawny Scottish black-mailer immortalized by Scott and Wordsworth ; while those who were content to journey along the beaten tracks came back disgusted with the hope- less degradation of the modern Greek. They saw nothing to remind them of the ancient glory and civilization of the race whose subtle intellect had marched into the high- est regions of human thought long before the coming of the Saviour and of Paul of Tarsus ; whose eye and hand had shaped the finest types of strength and beauty ; whose bravery had driven back the vast hordes of Eastern despots, and carried their victorious arms into the heart of Asia. The last of the Byzantine emperors fell in an aureole of fatal glory at Constantinople, on a summer morning in the middle of the fifteenth century, amid a heap of slain ; and the Greeks, then debased and enfeebled, lay during these four intervening centuries at the mercy of the Turkish sabre and tax- gatherer, under land tax, capitation tax, " angaria " or gratuitous labour on public works, occasional levies in money or in kind, quartering of soldiers, sale of produce at compulsory prices, and other forms of oppression. But the worst feature in the whole category of Turkish iniquities was the absence of all proper justice ; for, as the fact has been grimly expressed in a famous novel, when the Tui'ks cut off the wrong man's head, they found comfort in the pious reflection that, after all, it could not be helped, as it had been so destined by the will of Allah. It was true, however, that the wily and servile Greeks had farmed the revenues' and become the oppressors of the toiling masses of their own countrymen — that they too had furnished the great generals, coun- sellors, and governors of the sultans — that the patriarchs were base enough to purchase- their lofty post as heads of the Greek Church from the emperor of the infidels, and in turn to sell the bishoprics ; while the inferior clergy were poor and ignorant, and had to- work as common labourers. Origin and Temper of the Revolution. But the brains and hands belonged still tO' the Greek people. And when at last their commerce flourished, and they acquired wealth as carriers at sea, through the neu- trality of Turkey during the Napoleonic wars, schools were planted at Smyrna, Scio, Patmos, and elsewhere ; Greek boys were sent to Paris and other stirring centres of thought ; Koraes and other learned men kindled the memory of the ancient wisdom and glory of the race, and the "chill, change- less brow " once again throbbed with a frantic love of liberty. Poets have arisen to make the songs of the nation, and the lads and lasses in the glens and isles sing them to their herds and playmates ; Voltaire has spoken with stinging satire, the Paris clubs and the revolutions of France, Spain,, Portugal, and America have infected even Greece with the epidemic ; Egypt, Tunis, and Algiers have almost cut themselves, adrift from the Ottoman rule ; Ali Pasha, the monster of Janina, defied it even within the bounds of Greece ; Russia, the mighty- defender of the Greek Church, is ready to- spring upon Constantinople ; the Sultan has become poor and sick, it is believed, even unto death. When a fifth of the present century had passed away, Greece had made up her mind to revolt. The military barbarians who had poured into Europe, driven by their own fiery fatalism from the coasts of Asia in the four- teenth and fifteenth centuries, were to be knocked ' down like cockchafers from the cushioned divans on which they sleep and smoke, pulled from their harems, stabbed and shot in their mosques, hustled out of Wallachia, Macedonia, Greece, the Morea,, and the Archipelago, and by some means or other made an end of. For Turkey, it v/as averred, never was, never could be, any- thing but a military despotism : by sword and butchery and plunder the Turks came, and by those same weapons they should be turned out. Learned professors, priests, generals, thieves, sailors, gardeners, would take up guns, scythes, pitchforks, fire-ships, daggers, and fight or assassinate them till not a Moslem man, woman, or child should 594 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. breathe the same air with the countrymen of Epaminondas, and Themistocles. The cruel tyranny of centuries cannot be extinguished with rose-water from the Balkans. Quarter there shall be none, said the patriots, to the barbarians whose only right in this famous land is that of gun and yataghan, whose fingers are all thumbs, and who, as Gibbon justly said, are only encamped, not settled, in Europe. It is simply the crusade of Greece that is proclaimed by the short and sharp cry of the uprisen country : " Peace to the Christians ! Respect to the Consuls ! Death to the Turks !" The re- volution of Greece is the vengeance of a nation that is filled with shame, contempt, and hatred. The secret societies, which, working in silence and gloom, have scattered their active apostles over the isles and valleys of the oppressed country for several ■ years, have determined on the principle of " burning their ships," of inaugurating the rebellion with a baptism of blood, so that retreat and a dishonourable peace shall be impossible. Our main purpose in the present paper is to afford a sketch of one incident in this war of extermination, when the whole of the lovely and peaceful island of Scio (the ancient Chios), three times the size of the Isle of Wight, was laid waste by Asiatic savages from the one end to the other ; five and twenty thousand men, women, and children butchered, and perhaps twice that number dragged into slavery. Many are the tragic convulsions, by war and plague and earth- quake, that have run through it since the birth of Homer, "the blind old bard of Scio's rocky isle," since the grand battue of its inhabitants by the Persians in the fifth century before Christ; but none was ever so appalling as the massacre of 1822, which sent a shudder through the whole of Europe, and called forth the invincible sympathy of the civilized Powers. The horrific episode is known in Chian annals as "The Catastrophe." Our story of the massacre will serve to show the uncompromising nature of the six years' struggle, and that Greece could only rise by deeds of superhuman daring, and by huge holocausts on the altar of liberty, from the abyss into which she had sunk by centuries of slavery. The Rising in the North ; The Sacred Battalion ; Noble End of Georgakl The first torch of insurrection was thrown into the Turkish empire, when, on the 6th of March, 1 82 1, attended only by his two brothers and eight other companions. Prince Alexander Hypsilantes, a Russian officer and the son of a former Greek governor of Wallachia, crossed the river Pruth, which separated the empire of the white Czar from that of the dark and savage despot. Sultan Mahmoud. He had been chosen by the secret societies to carry- out the scheme at which they had been plotting for several years ; but the election* was in many ways the very worst possible, and his attempt quickly and naturally ended as a rmsershlejiasco. He issued a manifesto,, plainly hinting that the movement was backed by Russia, under the expectation that with this promise the subject peoples would at once hasten to his standard ; but the Czar soon swept away this ground of hope by the most emphatic denial, at the same time striking the name of Hypsilantes from, the list of Russian officers. The aged patriarch of the Greek Church hurled his anathema at the rebels, — a terrible blow, for the people were most intensely devoted tO' their religion. The prince, however, kept the field, although he had but little artillery,, in spite of the collections made by the " apostles," as the secret agents were desig- nated ; officers too, some brave, some treacherous, rallied round him in Moldavia,, far north of Greece ; but he was without any of the virtues or accomplishments of a soldier, a leader, a hero, or a martyr. He chilled the willing nobles with his obtrusive and repressing vanity and haughtiness ; he aped at royal dignity, and indulged in the light pleasures of the play instead of preparing' for the grim tragedies of the battle-field. He adorned his brief career with two massacres of Mussulmans : in one of these, at Yassy,, fifty prisoners who had surrendered on assur- ance of their life were put to death in cold blood; he boasted of the other at Galatz, and raised the murderer to the rank of general. The dilatory Turks came face to face with him in May ; and after some, wretched blunders by himself and the drunken Caravia, he retreated to the Austrian border, was arrested, and shut up in a noisome Hungarian castle, where he pined away till 1827, shortly after which this con- temptible liar and mountebank patriot expired in the gay city of Vienna. But the brief campaign was not closed without leaving behind it traces of a true and incorruptible love of country. Greece will not readily forget the bravery of the Sacred Battahon, consisting of a thousand of the flower of her cultured youth, whose deter- mination to do or die was symbolized by their black dress and the death's-head on their caps : only a hundred of them survived the carnage, and, shoeless and almost naked,, succeeded in buying the privilege of crossing the Austrian frontier. Nor must the name of Captain Georgaki, proud only that he was a native of Olympus, pass unnoticed. His modesty and sublime courage were well fitted to inaugurate the freedom of a noble race. The wretched weakness of his health could 595 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. not prevent him from straining every nerve to rouse the people to the conflict. After many marvellous escapes he was surrounded with a few followers in the monastery of Seko. For nearly two days he defended himself with gallantry, thrice declining the offer of the Ottoman general to depart un- molested, and at last, seeing that escape was hopeless, he called his followers together and addressed them in the style of the bravest days of ancient Greece : " Brothers, in our present circumstances, a glorious death is all we ought to wish for, and I trust there is no one here base enough to regret his life. Let us imitate those true Greeks, our comrades, whose dead bodies are stretched on the fields of Dragashan and Skuleni, and whose blood yet cries for vengeance. If we die like them, perhaps on some future day our countrymen will gather up our bones and transport them to the classic land of our forefathers I " Then, according to one version of his mysterious end, having observed that a number of the soldiers were anxious for surrender, he retired to the belfry, and, after a short prayer, blew himself and four companions into the air. Thus tragically closed, on the 26th of August, the rebelHon of the Greeks beyond the Danube. Better Success in the Morea; Fear- ful Massacres by the Greeks. It was hard to rouse the slothful Turks to think other than contemptuously of Greek courage, and, in spite of plain warning, they delayed all steps for the prevention of re- bellion in the south of Greece until their power had almost collapsed to the crack of doom. Far away down in the Morea and in the brisk commercial isles the secret societies were strong and active ; and there even the lower classes were on the qui vive for some impending shock; their nerves were strung up by the mysterious hints of the apostles, by the visions of the hermit monks, and by the news of the war in the Epirus under the ferocious lion of Janina. North of the Gulf of Corinth the people were also rendered doubly wretched by the constant march of troops against the old rebel, Ali Pasha, and all through the winter there ran along the coast and among the moun- tains a feverish rumour that a Russian fleet was coming into the Mediterranean to thrust the Turks for ever out of the country. In the early spring of 182 1 the provincial divan (or council) of Tripolitza, the capital of the Morea, crept out of its shell. It imposed a double poll-tax for that year, issued a pro- clamation for disarming the rayahs (or non- Mussulmans), and summoned the leading clergy on the pretence of taking counsel as to the condition of the country. Several bishops were tame or foolish enough to put their heads into this Tripolitza trap. On the night of the i8th of March, Ger- manos, archbishop of Patras, the chief com- mercial town of the Morea, and a hot-bed of Russian intrigue, situated in a lovely valley by the sea at the foot of lofty hills, turned his face eastward along the road to Tripolitza. But he did not travel far in that direction. In a fortnight he raised the standard of the Cross in the little town of Kalavryta, high up among the mountains on the way from Patras. Already the first blows had been struck : tax-gatherers and a military party had been murdered, and an aga (or noble) had been robbed of his treasures, escaping with difficulty to the capital. On the 3rd of April a large number of Mussulmans were driven into Kalavryta, besieged, murdered, or carried off as slaves. The news travelled quickly down to Patras, and within two days the balls of the Turkish soldiers in the for- tress were whizzing amid the burning houses ; old men, women, and children fled from the flames, which a high wind drove furiously after them ; Greeks and Turks stabbed each other among the smoking ruins without a thought of mercy. The primates, or head- men, of Vostitza, which lay to the east along the shore of the Gulf of Corinth, marched into Patras with five Mussulman heads borne before them as trophies ; and on the 6th — the day on which the secret society at Vos- titza had fixed for proclaiming the insurrection throughout all Greece — the valiant archbishop came down to Patras from his mountain perch, the monks and clergy in the front chanting psalms, followed by thousands of peasants with guns, slings, clubs, daggers stuck on poles, all rendered courageous by the faith that every man who fell against the infidel should gain the crown of martyrdom. The crucifix was planted in the great square, Grecian banners floated from the mosques, the proclamation of "Peace to the Chris- tians ! Respect to the Consuls ! Death to the Turks ! " was issued, and within a week from the unfurling of the flag in the mountain village a Greek senate was assembled at Calamita, on the southern shore of the Morea. Its president was no less a man than the Bey of Maina, a wild district that had never been subdued, and he had brought down with him a still more famous warrior, Theodore Colocotrones. The latter was a large and powerful man, cunning, but with an air of persuasive frankness ; from his big head there waved a wealth of black hair ; his intellect was keen, and his heart as hard as the nether millstone ; he was now fifty years of age, and for twenty-seven of these he had pursued the career of a notorious and murderous brigand. He recited the stories of his butcheries with glee. Yet he and his 596 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. klephts did valuable, if sometimes atrocious, service in the cause of Greek independence. Within three months the rebels -were masters of the whole of Greece south of some of the fearful massacres perpetrated by the Christians. Vrachori, the most im- portant town of western Greece (north of the Straits), had a population of 500 Mus- SciOTE Pfasamts driven away by the Approach or the 1li b the famous battle-field of Thermopylse, but most of the fortresses remained for some time in Turkish hands. We shall here move forward a little out of the order of our narrative, with a view of mentioning sulman families, with 600 Christians, and 200 Jews. It was besieged by 4,000 armatoii, or Christian militia, formerly employed by the Porte to keep order in their respective districts, — warriors who were inured to the 597 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. severest hardships, and were accustomed to sleep on the ground in all weathers with no 'Other protection than their shaggy cloaks. The Turks and Jews laid down their arms Tunder a promise of safety, but, in spite of this, they were all immediately murdered by the ferocious mountainers under circumstances ■of the most shocking cruelty, only a few of the richer being let off unscathed. The town of Navarino was starved into capitulation on the 19th of August ; and on the surrender of all the public and private property, except wearing apparel and house- hold furniture, the Greeks undertook to convey the inhabitants to Egypt or Tunis. A dispute having arisen on the delicate sub- ject of searching the women for concealed valuables, every single human being that had not yet gone on board was put to death with the most ruthless barbarism : women, bleeding from the cuts of sabres, or stripped ■of their very clothing, ran into the sea to hide themselves, and were shot down ; children of the age of three or four years were tossed into the waves, and tender infants were torn from the maternal bosom and dashed against the rocks. During the sack of Tripolitza at the begin- ning of October, women and children were in many cases tortured before being put to death ; but still greater fiendishness^perhaps the deepest stain on Greece during the whole period of the revolution — was shown when, after the city had been occupied by the Greeks for two entire days, two thousand men, women, and children were led out to a neighbouring ravine and murdered in cold blood. One writer declares that years after the event he saw the unburied bones of the massacred victims lying in the hollow, bleached by the winter rains and summer suns. No wonder that Raybaud and other friends of Greece hung their heads in shame and sorrow ! Dreadful Reprisals at Constanti- nople; Execution of the Patriarch; Canopy of Vultures. It was not the Greeks alone, however, who built up this barrier of blood ; for if we cast ■our eyes back to the beginning of April, we shall witness in the streets of the capital of " the butcher," Sultan Mahmoud, scenes that far eclipse in magnitude and reckless atrocity the horrors enacted by the fierce klephts and armatoli. The melancholy Sultan, who is credited with having at one time seriously con- templated the extermination of every single Greek in his dominions,-^the financial loss probably alone prevented him from the attempt, — no sooner learned of the appear- ance of Hypsilantes in Moldavia, than he -appealed to the religion and loyalty of the iaithful, and called on every Mussulman to provide himself with arms. It was simply a Holy War that was announced between the Cross and the Crescent. In consequence of this proclamation a hundred thousand armed Turks, not only men of mature years, but mere ignorant children of the "tender" age of ten, were let loose into the streets of Constantinople like a host of demons to murder and mutilate the Greeks, who could not venture from their homes for food except at the risk of perishing by the long daggers of the desperadoes. But Turkish justice was, if possible, more fiendish than Turkish law- lessness. When the news reached Constanti- nople that hundreds of Mussulmans werebeing murdered in Greece, the Sultan gave orders to Benderli Ali, the Grand Vizier, to seize the leading Greek officials and execute them as hostages. On the i6th of April, Constan- tine Murusi, the first dragoman (or interpreter) of the Porte, was beheaded in his official dress. Other dignitaries met with the same fate ; but there was one especial blow struck at the Greek Church, which sent a thrill of horror through millions, from the hills of Greece to the banks of the Neva, and placed the topmost layer on the barrier of blood. On Easter Sunday, 22nd of April, 1821, an unusually large crowd of wretched Greeks assembled in the cathedral of the Phanar to witness the most solemn ceremony of high mass, and to hear from the lips of the venerable head of their Church the sacred salutation, " Christ is arisen !" which had for them a peculiar and deep significance in those weeks of agony, fear, and slaughter. Doubtless the patriarch conceived himself secure, for he had issued a pastoral condem- ning the revolution and its supporters ; but to the horror of the worshippers, just as he had uttered the words of benediction, a party of tchaouses entered, and seized him under an imperial warrant. A janissary, who had been appointed to guard his person, and had acquired a deep reverence for the aged prelate, rushed forward to defend him, and was stabbed by the yataghan of an associate. The three officiating bishops and his two chaplains were led with him to exe- cution. " The patriarch was hanged on the doorway of his palace, and left to struggle in his robes with the agony of death. His person," wrote a member of the British Embassy, " attenuated by abstinence and emaciated by age, had not weight sufficient to cause immediate death. He continued for a long time in pain, which no friendly hand dared to abridge, and the darkness of night came on before the last convulsions were over." His lifeless body, dragged by Jews through the streets of the Greek quarter, and tossed into the harbour, was shortly after cast up on the shore, and interred with due solemnity in the island 598 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. •of Corfu ; but the memory of this horrid in- sult to their religion rankled in the breast -of every Christian Greek, and the name of the murdered Gregorios became a vengeful war-cry in the fierce struggles of the revolu- tion. Foreign residents of Constantinople vs'it- nessed in the streets of the capital and the neighbouring cities scenes of horror that surpass conception or description. These places were for several weeks in anarchy and at the mercy of murderous mobs ; every day the bodies of fresh victims were seen hanging on walls and doors, headless trunks were trampled in the streets, vultures and other birds of prey gathered overhead and covered the capital like a canopy, ravenous dogs prowled by night, uttering dismal howls ;and fighting for possession of the trunks and skulls of hapless Greeks . We must leave to imagination the fearful agonies of women, many of the most refined tastes, whose husbands, fathers, and sons were dragged to prison, torlure, and death, who were them- selves reduced to absolute starvation, and lived in sickening suspense lest still more ■dreadful and unnamable outrages should be inflicted, if the brutal passions of the Turkish mobs were suffered longer to con- tinue unrestrained. Where were the repre- sentatives of the civilized Powers of Europe ? What was done to put an end to this abominable anarchy ? To our shame be it said, that the Russian ambassador proposed the despatch of a combined European fleet to protect the Christians, but that the English ambassador objected to this pro- cedure, and the Powers satisfied themselves with a remonstrance ! Of course this was a necessary piece of statesmanship ! And so poor Greece must wade her own solitary way through seas of blood. Perhaps it was best that it should be so ; for intervention at this early stage might only have thrown her down again, under certain limitations, beneath the detested domination of the Crescent. The conflict proceeded; and on the ist of January, 1822, the independence of Greece was proclaimed. Its first president was Alexander Mavrocordatos, a Phanariot of Sciote origin. He was a little man with a fine, massive head, set off with a profusion of jet-black hair ; he had large and sparkling eyes, with bushy eye-brows, and immense whiskers and mustachios. He wore an air of goodness, but lacked dignity, not in dress only but in mien ; and his character had one prime and fatal fault which prevented him from being a splendid leader, — he was with- out decision. Indeed, in all the period of struggle, Greece had not one central and commanding spirit. Meanwhile thousands of pairs of ears were sent to the Sultan from different parts of the revolted country, and piled up as ghastly trophies before the gate of the seraglio. The Island Hares ; Their Importance IN THE Struggle, The Turks were in the habit of showing their contempt for the Greek inhabitants of the Archipelago by bestowing on them the nickname of " hares " ; and to some of the islands the epithet was not ill applied. But however true it might be that many were more adapted by nature for the timid occu- pations of the kitchen, the nursery, and the garden than for the arts of cruel warfare and selfish diplomacy, on which alone the Ottoman sets any value, the fact turned out to be that the fabric of Greek independence was to find its surest materials on some of these same barren, mountainous, and, it was fondly believed by the jesting tax-gatherer, timid isles. With the exception of Samos, none of the little rocks which came to the forefront as glorious stars on the forehead of new Greece had even the slightest importance in the annals of ancient Hellas. You will search in vain through the pages of old Lempriere for one decorative gleam of light on the rocks of Spetzia, Hydra, and Psara. They had no history. They had sprung up from the depths of the sea, as it were, quite recently. During the eighteenth century the Sultans, in order to give a fillip to native commerce, very kindly — fatally to their own power after the lapse of a century — relieved the three rocky islets above mencioned, along with that of Kasos, and the two barren promontories of Trikeri and Galaxhidi, from the heavy blight of taxation that destroyed the vigour of the empire ; and during the period when the noisy and imperious Frenchmen were playing the part of Ishmael against the whole of Euiope, these little rocks became the outlets of Greek enterprise, acquiring very considera- ble wealth as traders, especially in carrying grain between the Black Sea and the south of Europe. They administered their own affairs, almost like independent republics. It must be noted, however, that the mer- chants and sailors of Hydra and Spetzia, off the coast of Argolis, were not Greeks but Albanians, races quite as distant and dis- tmct from each other in origin and character as are the Welsh and English. The Alba- nian is proud and turbulent, but truthful and honest ; the Greek is more intellectual, bul crafty to his finger-tips. Hydra, with her four thousand families, was the wealthiest and most populous ; her merchants, such as the Conduriotti, had amassed great sums, and their ships were ungrudgingly placed at the disposal of revolutionary Greece. When Hydra, Spetzia, and Psara showed the national colours at the mast-head in 599 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the spring of 1821, they had respectively 115, 60, and 40 ships over 100 tons burden. The most brilHant deeds of the fierce vi^ar of vengeance were to be accom- pHshed by the money, the men, and the vessels of these traders v^'hom the Turk ridiculed as coward conies, and from them there was destined to arise one glorious figure, who seemed to the Ottoman a demon wrapped in flames of fire, yet who was after all but a pious, poor, and simple sailor of the rock of Psara. Constantine Kanaris, the Garibaldi of Greece, and Andrew Miaoulis, his fellow Psariot, admiral of the Greek fleet, stand out conspicious by their simple honesty and unsullied patriotism more than by their bravery, from the herd of unscrupulous, murderous, plundering, ambitious phanariots, primates, captains, and robber-chiefs who fought with Turkey, quarrelled with each other, and gave the Western World a very sorry impression of the latter-day Greek and of his fitness for independence. First Cruise of the Greek Fleet ; Visit to the Isle of Scio. With all haste the isles transformed their merchant vessels into ships of war; and early in the spring of 1821, a little fleet of over twenty vessels was ready to sail forth on its first cruise, under the command of James Tombazes, one of the primates of the rock of Hydra, and the only man in that enterpris- ing centre who was not suspicious and positively rude to strangers. Its original destination was the coast of the Epirus, where the Ottoman fleet was then cruising. Had it proceeded there, as was intended, the ill-manned Turkish vessels would have fallen into its grasp as a heap of dead logs, and the spirits of the western Greeks would have been roused. But when it was on the eve of departure, there arrived at Hydra a native of the Isle of Scio, named Neophytos Vambas. He was a man whose opinion and advice could not well be despised at such a critical moment ; he had spent years of his life in France, and, though in feeble health, had shown himself a true patriot by re- nouncing his peaceful and scholarly life as head of the famous college in his native island for the noise of camps, the hardships of the battle-field, and the spectacle of carnage. He afterwards acted as chief secretary of Demetrius Hypsilantes (who was leader of the insurrection during hisbrother's captivity), and did high service to his country in later years as a teacher, by cultivating the moral feelings as well as the intellect of his distin- guished pupils. But Vambas was too much of a doctrinaire to be a sound political adviser. By his counsel Tombazes made Scio instead of the Epirus the destination of the fleet. The particulars of this ciniise, which was projected with the commendable object of stirring up Scio and other large and wealthy islands to declare for the revolution, form an interesting narrative, but a very sad one, in view of its complete failure, of the horrible deeds committed by the fleet, of the still more horrible cruelties perpetrated by the Turks under the name of vengeance, and of the selfish rapacity of the patriots which was displayed in quarrels over the division of the spoil, and the unpatriotic separation of several of the ships to act as privateers on their own account. It is true that now for the first time fire-ships, of which we shall have more to say by-and-by, were used with deadly effect on a Turkish ship of the liae, compelling her companions to fly in terror to the shelter of the Dardanelles ; but, on the other hand, such a dark deed as that enacted by the Hydriot brigs on a richly-laden Turkish vessel, when ladies of rank, beau- tiful slaves, infant children, and helpless old men, were all butchered in cold blood, was impolitic and selfish, to say the least, for it gave a colour of justice to such easy and awful reprisals as that taken on the flourishing young city of Kydonies on the Asiatic coast, which contained thirty thousand Greeks within itself and the surrounding villages. A general massacre took place, and droves of innocent and industrious Greeks, when the barbarous thirst for blood was sated, were led away to stock for months the slave-markets of Smyrna, Brusa, and Constantinople. On the 9th of May the Greek fleet cast anchor at Pasha Fountain, a bay situated a little to the north of the town of Chios or Castro, on the eastern side of the island, and secret agents were sent ashore to proceed through the villages with proclamations, appealing to the people to throw off the Turkish yoke and avenge the death of the patriarch Gregorios. The moment was well chosen, for the castle which commanded the port of Chios was in a bad state of repair and held by a feeble garrison. The town itself had a population of thirty thousand, that mighi easily have crushed the keepers of the citadel. The handful of Turks were thrown into a state of consternation. " Are you not,'' said they in alarm to the Greek natives, '' the happiest Christian subjects of the Sultan ? Remain tranquil in the midst of this general confla- gration : if your brothers are conquerors, we shall be ' rayas ' in our turn ; if the Crescent triumphs, you will not have to suffer the con- sequences of a revolt to which you will be strangers." The emissaries of the Greek invaders were seized; the "primates" of Scio wei'e afraid to compromise themselves in the eyes of their Turkish masters, and beseeched the navy to depart, entertaining, however, an inward reserve in favour of the patriotic cause, Tombazes, afraid that his presence mighs 600 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. An Amblscadf or Sciotes watching tht Mo\emlnis of the Turkish Army 60 1 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. provoke a rigorous treatment of the inhabi- tants, abandoned the main purpose of his cruise and sailed off into other waters. Such was the first voyage of the fleet that had set forth with the grand idea of repeating the ancient glory of Salamis. The Paradise of Greece ; Why the Hares of Scio did not rise. The question is interesting, how this im- portant island, with a Greek population of the purest blood amounting to perhaps more than one hundred thousand persons, refused to enter the alliance and break from the barbarous despotism of the Turks, The Sciotes were the most flourishing community of Greeks under the Ottoman sway ; their rich merchants had houses established in all the great cities of the Levant and Europe, in England, Amsterdam, Marseilles, Leghorn, Trieste, Malta, Alexandria, Moscow, Taganrog, Odessa, Vienna, Constantinople, and in many Asiatic towns, such as Beyrout and Smyrna, the whole cloth- trade of this last city being in their hands. Their culture was the foremost ; they could boast of the first Greek scholar of the day, Koraes, whose '"sublime apostolate," carried on in France, sought to regenerate his country by present- ing the purest models of the ancient tongue, — striving to arouse at once an equal love of knowledge and of liberty, — and whose elo- quent exposition of the state of Greece in 1813 first opened the eyes of Western scholars to the fact that it was something more than a museum ; and since the year 1792 they had possessed a handsome college, where at this time five hundred pupils of the island and two hundred from abroad received the advan- tage of a free education. Travellers, like our own Chandler, represented the hilly Scio as a sort of fairyland. The town was filled with splendid structures of white marble, and surrounded with mansions embowered in gardens that were fragrant in spring-tide with oranges and citrons and the rarest flowei's, and were enlivened with the songs of nightingales; the honey of Scio rivalled that of Hybla and Hymettus ; the slopes were dotted with villages, vineyards, pomegranates, olives, and other fruit-trees; and the mastic tree flourished in the south-west, yielding the delicious gum so pleasant to the palates of the ladies of the East and of the Sultan's harem. The fragrance of the balmy island was felt miles off at sea. Its women, luscious Ionian Greeks of unadulterated type, were as lovely, says Bulwer (not the novelist), "as God or even Sir Godfrey Kneller could have made them." If there were any spot of Greece that could and should have given effective aid and European sympathy to the revolution against Turkish tyranny, it was the isle of Scio. And at this moment the whole troops in command of the island were the seven or eight hundred frightened janissaries in the old citadel that had been built by the Genoese while masters of the island, from the four- teenth to the sixteenth century ; the fortifica- tions were sadly ruined, and most of the guns were without carriages. There was a proverb which asserted that it was as rare to find a green horse as a prudent Sciote. Unfor- tunately this referred to the reckless gaiety, not the patriotic instincts, of the citizens. Finlay and others have stood up for the policy of the Sciotes. There were thousands of its natives engaged in business or as gardeners in Turkish towns like Smyrna and Constantinople, so that a large amount of human life as well as wealth was involved in the insurrectic-n of the island. Their hands were tied by the bonds of commerce far more firmly than those of any other spot of Greece. To take up arms against a foe whose hands were deep in your pockets, and whose sabre hung over the necks of your absent fathers and sons, was a resolve that would make the heart of the stoutest patriot tremble and his face grow pale. There was this further fact, that the despotism of Scio was of an ex- tremely mild type. The inhabitants were to all intents and purposes independent. Their prosperity was greatly due to the circum- stance that the island had lived under the gentle sway of several successive sultanas. Every year the town of Chios chose its own five native demogeronts, who held almost complete control. True enough all this. And we shall add that at the outbreak of the revolution the aim of the Greeks was not so much to erect an independent nation as to sweep away the Turks. The movement was to a large extent of an ecclesiastical character. Hypsilantes, and thousands of others, had no higher aspi- ration than to transfer Greece from the heel of the Sultan to that of the Emperor of Russia, the chief patron of the Eastern Church, But this argument breaks down after the proclamation of independence on the 1st day of January, 1822, The spring and summer of that year will tell a horrid tale and teach a great political lesson, "The more far-sighted and consistent friend of liberty," says an anonymous writer, "will recognise in this case one of those instances, of rare occurrence, in which the duty of the citizen is to sacrifice his property, his tran- quillity, the security of his family, in pursuit of a good, abstract and remote as far as his own enjoyments are concerned, for the pure and unmixed love of his country. And s«uch policy is in truth the safest, as a thousand instances have proved, no less than the manliest. Had the Sciotes taken the national side, and fortified their island in co-operation with their Samian neighbours, they, with 602 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. •wealth and population such as theirs, were secured almost against the remotest contin- gency of capture from the wild and desultory efforts of the Ottomans." We shall only seek to enforce this by remarking that the Sciotes were so deeply distrusted by patriotic Greeks that they were at first excluded from becoming members of the secret society known as the Philike Hetairia. They were the true "hares " of the Turkish tax-gatherers. They were doomed to be worried as excellent game by the wild dogs of Constantinople and Asia. Arrest of Leading Citizens ; The Island overrun by an Asiatic Horde. Immediately on the departure of the fleet, the musselim, or governor of the island, gave •orders for the disarming of the Christians, ■strengthened the fortifications, and sent to the divan at Constantinople for military stores. He summoned the mesas, or council of demogeronts, and, in spite of their distinct aversion from rebellion, shut them up in the citadel as hostages of peace, along with the archbishop and thirty men, heads of the leading families of the town, who were in- vited or forced into the fortress under the pretence of taking counsel on the situation. The archbishop was never allowed to pass from the safe du^-ance of the citadel, but the others were permitted to exchange the in- sufferable confinement of their gaols for that of a Turkish coffee-house, where they occu- pied together one large room with thick walls, almost subterranean in aspect, and •cheered by a very small portion of the bright Chian sunshine. In a few days the number was increased to forty-six, and, besides these, twelve leading men were brought down from the chief mastic villages to share their prison. After a time thirty-two other citizens entered as hostages, an equal number being permitted to go out on business for a month ; this monthly alternation of prisoners continued until the destruction of the island. Even in the worst sickness no one was permitted to enjoy the affectionate care and comforts of his home, and, in consequence of this treat- ment, two of the hostages died during their incarceration. Another was shot by way of amusement by the pistol of a savage soldier. As if these precautions were not sufficient, three of the most prominent Sciotes were sent as prisoners to Constantinople, and confined in the horrible dungeon of the Bostangi Bashi (or police minister), which had a ter- rible reputation for the marvellous severity of the tortures there inflicted in the name of justice. Murders were of daily occurrence in Scio, the markets were opened only by •order, and the people -were continually kept in terror by red-handed violence. A wild horde of armed Asiatics, a thou- :sand in number, soon arrived in the island, attracted by the wealth and helplessness of its inhabitants. .Not a day passed without some fresh tale of murder, plunder, and such foul crimes as were sufficient to rouse the spirit of the tamest and make the blood run cold. People scarcely dared to move along the streets, or even show their faces at the windows. The leading Turks were also alarmed by their presence ; neither the com- mand of the Sultan himself, nor the efforts at restraint made by day and night by the musselim and his few soldiers, had any effect on the plundering savages. Commerce was at a standstill ; the ships which were accus- tomed to supply the town with provisions did not appear, and the dread of famine laid the copestone on the woes and despair of the unhappy people. The threatened outburst of an insurrection was only driven off by the generosity of the demogeronts, who supplied the wants of the starving poor. At last, under the pressure of the Sciote merchants in Con- stantinople, a force of eleven hundred soldiers was despatched under the command of Vehid Pasha ; the horde of Asiatics was controlled and dispersed, and the people again breathed freely. But the island had only changed the ravages of bandits for the stern exactions of a military despotism. Vehid imposed a tax of 34,000 piastres monthly for the main- tenance of his troops, laid his hands on 4,000 centals of grain that had been stored up by the demogeronts for the use of the inhabi- tants ; the goods in the markets were seized by the brutal soldiers, who then sold them on their own account ; the poor niiserables in town and country were compelled to work at the trenches of the citadel without pay, spurred to energy by the application of the bastinado. Invasion by the Samians ; Blunder and Disgrace. In the month of November 1821, shortly after the conquest and horrible carnage of Tripolitza, a Sciote peasant from the village of Vrondado, named Antonaki Bournia, who had served in Egypt under Napoleon, pre- sented himself before Demetrius Hypsilantes with a fantastic scheme for the redemp- tion of Scio, asking authority and means for raising and completing the insurrection in that island. The Greek leaders — Vambas, the Sciote who had instigated the invasion of Tombazes' fleet, among the number — not dis- covering in him any special capacity for such an enterprize, or that he had any great in- fluence among his co-patriots, rejected his proposal. They were reluctant to compromise an immense population of unwarlike tastes, and they thought it best that the island, lying only a few miles from the hordes of the Asiatic continent, should hold its choice in reserve until the issue of the bloody struggle was 603 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. decided. But the unlettered peasant — what the French call a inmcvazs stijet — had a strong determination and lust for fame, if he was destitute of genius or character. In spite of his cold reception from Hypsilantes, he betook himself to the brave historic island of Samos, affiliated himself with four other Sciote adven- turers who had fled as bankrupts from the bazaars of Smyrna, and secured the active service of the Samian adventurer, Lycurgus Logothetes, a physician by profession, and the accepted dictator of his native island. The attack was concerted with an enthusiasm that amounted to impatience : there was nothing so easy as to master Scio. The island would surrender with the willingness of a loving maiden. Their victory would be as simple to record as that described by Cassar — Veni, vidi, vicij they dreamed of nothing but the expulsion of the Turks and the chastisement of the primates who had refused to join in the national struggle. The leading Sciotes and Psarians, however, were opposed to the project of an invasion.* Suddenly there spread through Scio a rumour that the men of Samos were arming for the " deliverance " of that island ; the most responsible inhabitants were thrown into consternation, which was aggravated by the fact that it was now the mastic season ; the archbishop and demogeronts instantly despatched agents through the villages to warn them against raising a hand in favour of the conspirators, and a deputy was sent off to Samos to investigate the truth of the report. But the fact was only too certain long before the possibility of his return. On the evening of Saturday, 22nd of March (or at break of day on Sunday), a flotilla of forty to fifty boats, with about two thousand five hundred men, under the joint command of the Samian dictator and the whilom captain of the Chasseurs d'Orient, landed at the Bay of St. Helen, a few miles south of the port of Scio. A Turkish force of five or six hundred men was sent to oppose the advance of the Samians, but retreated in haste with great loss ; four thousand other Turkish inhabitants fled into the citadel along with the hostages, victuals, and ammunition. Soon the van of the invading army was seen on the heights of Turlotti above the town, and a little firing of their cannon was directed without effect at the citadel, serving no other * Our statement as to Bournia's visit to Hypsilantes is based on the Memoires sur la Grcce of Raybaiid, the French philhellene, who was present. Finlay, however, mentions that Hypsilantes authorized a Sciote merchant, Ralli, to undertal^e an expediuon with Lycurgus ; that in January 1822 he wrote to Lycurgus to defer it, and that Lycurgus replied, on the ist of February, that he would do so, but praying that the delay might not be long as he " considered the conquest of Scio to be a sacred duty." purpose than to waken up the country people to the fact that something unusual was go- ing on. Signals waving on the mountains announced the arrival of the liberators, whO' soon marched into the town with a host of twenty thousand peasants, armed with blud- geons, fusils, picks, sickles, spits, and pitch- forks. " Popes," or priests, advanced in front of the regiments, bearing the banner of the Cross, and the frantic, motley crowds raised the shout of " Liberty ! " The Greek inhabitants of the town did nofe welcome the disturbers of their peace. At first they shut themselves up in their dwell- ings, but in the course of the afternoon they thought it prudent to raise a feeble cheer as the Christian standards were borne past through the streets. All night long there were illuminations. A large number of priests, clothed in their sacred habits, moved about among the excited crowds, bearing crosses and waving incense ; the intonatioa of sacred hymns mingled with the music of patriotic songs. During the nineteen days- of occupation by the Samians, the town was one continual scene of anarchy and pillage z not only were the custom-house, two mosques, and the dwellings of Turks plundered and destroyed, but even the stores of the Sciote merchants had their turn and were looted by the Samians and the native mobs. This disorderly conduct caused many of the wealthy families to flee across the country from the island. Bournia, styling himself " commander-in-chief," gave orders to the ephors to prevent the " great and rich " from taking flight ; officers imprisoned some of the leading merchants and black-mailed large sums of money from others on the plea ofi protecting them from the violence of the soldiers ; a domiciliary inquisition v/as esta- blished, authorizing the houses of the chief men to be entered at any hour of day or night on the pretext of stopping "desertions." The invasion was at once a blunder and a disgrace, and yet somewhat typical of the whole Greek revolution in its selfish rivalries, and robberies. The demogeronts had been deposed, and a revolutionary junto of six ephors set up in their place ; but the two. leaders, instead of concerting on active and effective measures for the reduction of the fortress and the defence of the island whose prosperity and inhabitants they had thrown in jeopardy, quarrelled with each other for the chief command. Lycurgus snubbed all round, and exacted a respectful kiss of hand ;. Bournia flaunted the tricolour, and gathered, round him a huge tail of peasants. Thsre was no artillery of sufficient power to telli upon the citadel. The invaders were so> deficient of aminunition as to pick up the spent balls fired from the fortress. Lycurgus several times made offers to Vehid for capi- 604 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. tulation, but the Turkish pasha only rephed with bombs from the citadel, which the Greek patriots — such was their contempt of ■the stupid Turks — had expected to surrender without a blow. Two deputies, one of whom was the honest and peaceful patriot, Glarakes, afterwards a minister of state under King Otho, were despatched to the central government at Corinth to ask for aid ; the news of the revolt created a sensa- tion not of the most hopeful character, but a promise was dutifully given that two mortars and five siege batteries should be sent to Scio, along with competent gunners. A fortnight passed before this necessary aid was furnished, and within that period the death-knell of the isle of Scio had been sounded. Arrival of the Turkish Admiral; Flight of the Samians. Sultan Mahmoud was infuriated by the attack on Scio,' which he regarded as a personal insult ; and the ladies of the harem, afraid of losing their delicious mas- tic, insisted on the utter destruction of the people who had dared to deprive them of the chief luxury of their existence. The three Sciote hostages who had been sent to Constantinople from the island were ordered to be hanged, the Sciote merchants and bankers had their counting-houses pillaged, and such as did not succeed in making their escape were thrown into prison, and sub- jected to the unspeakably savage tortures of the Bostangi Bashi. The Sultan uttered the fate of the island in the three terrific words, "Fire, Sword, Slavery !" Little did the peaceful and wealthy por- tion of the inhabitants of Scio's rocky isle, when they welcomed with manifest delight the news that a Turkish armament was on its way, under the command of the Capitan Pasha, or admiral, Kara Ali, imagine the terrible mission with which he was entrusted ; little did they dream that this monster, who had been raised to the head of the Ottoman fleet because of his single small success against the Greek navy in the previous autumn, when he had entered the port of Constantinople amid the tremendous roar of greeting cannon with gulls screaming over the thirty bodies that hung lifeless from the yard-arm of his flag-ship, was now sailing, with the most truculent and blood-thirsty re- fuse of the East, with plain orders to con- vert their lovely island into a vast cemetery. There was no secret in Constantinople as to the destination of the fleet ; the report was spread that the island would be given up to the volunteers ; every ruffian who could lay his hand on a knife or pistol hurried on board, and the expedition was manned and equipped with a celerity that had never been 605 approached in the annals of the Turkish navy. The pashas on the coast of Asia Minor also received orders to send boat-loads of men and provisions over to the island so long as the Greeks remained upon it. A hundred thou- sand barbarians assembled with alacrity when the news spread in Anatolia ; all the ports were crowded with them ; for weeks, in spite of the pasha's attempts to suppress the reign of anarchy, every Greek who dared to show himself in the streets of Smyrna was instantly murdered ; and the eyes of the faithful were filled with tears of joy at the sight of a regiment, composed entirely of imaums, marching along through that city to join in the plunder and massacre of the infidels of Scio. At last the fleet of the Capitan Pasha entered the northern channel between Scio and the mainland on the nth of April, crossed to Chesme on the Asiatic coast, eight or nine miles distant from the town of Scio, and having added some ten thousand ■ porters from Smyrna and other ruffians to those brought from Europe, sailed across with its host of attendant boats ; and on the 1 2th of April, the vast army of savages was vomited upon the shore of the island, a little to the south of the citadel and harbour. The forces of Lycurgus made a very feeble resistance ; the battery of Turlotti was taken in an hour; and the ''dauntless Samians" fled with precipitation to the western shore of the island, where they embarked on some Psarian vessels, leaving the poor Sciotes, whom they had forced into rebellion, to the fury of the countless savages who swarmed across like locusts, attracted by the riches of the island and the far-famed beauty of its women. The Massacre; The Slaves and Fugitives. It would be impossible to describe the massacre which followed the first rush upon the town of Scio, and was continued without interruption for fifteen days, and even nights, upon a population that was almost entirely without arms. All that could be wrought by the hands of human fiends was done there — done by the " unspeakable Turk," by direct orders of the Sultan of Turkey, the head of a great European power. Who would care to read the details of the horrid carnage at the first storming of the town, when it is thought no less than nine thousand persons fell before the fury of the armed savages — of the roar of cannon, the report of guns, the hissing of balls, the cries of rage from the assassins, and of anguish from their helpless victims — how the inmates of the mad-house, the hospital, and the asylum for the deaf and dumb were butchered in the thirst for blood — how the famous college was destroyed, its professors hewn in pieces, and its pupils EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. carried off to slavery — how the people, when not benumbed by terror, fled with the speed of panic to the mountains, seeking the highest and roughest spots, hiding in caves and brush- wood, dying in the agony of hunger and thirst — how delicate mothers, who had lived in the bosom of luxury, flung themselves over preci- pices, in order to save themselves and their infants from a more cruel destiny — how ladies had their fingers chopped off to test whether they were still alive— how churches and every other building of importance were set on fire and laid in ruins — how in the delirium of fanaticism and plunder the very tombs were rifled and the ashes of the dead trampled underfoot and thrown to the winds — how dervishes, drunk with the aromatic wine of Scio, decorating their brows with garlands of ears, formed a fiendish dance round the piles of human heads ? A few hundreds found a refuge in the consulates, and fifteen thousand are said to have escaped in boats of Psara, many of the fugitives having gone through terrible sufferings before they succeeded in reaching the shore. When the lust for blood was sated, the savages led off their victims into slavery ; and in this way more than forty thousand persons were thrown into the slave- markets of Constantinople, Smyrna, and other Eastern cities. Of these victims, who were attached by cords and tossed pell-mell into the boats of their Asiatic captors, a large proportion consisted of young girls and children : many died from fear, wounds, and brutal treatment, some committed suicide, and others who tried to starve themselves, so as to escape from the horrors of slavery, were compelled by horsewhips to take food. At this time the mastic villages were to a large extent saved from the general mas- sacre and pillage, a matter about which the Capitan Pasha was particularly anxious. On his invitation the consuls proceeded, in uniform, at their own great peril, into the country with an amnesty from the Sultan and a letter from the Archbishop, urging its acceptance by the i-nhabitants. They suc- ceeded in their useless mission, and returned to the town on Easter Monday, the 22nd of April, with seventy primates from the mastic villages, and a train of mules laden with the arms which the peasants had surrendered in simple faith. On that same day the primates were hanged on the masts of the Turkish fleet, and on Easter Tuesday the Archbishop and seventy-five other hostages were similarly executed by order of the Sultan. After this the villages were again ransacked, when, as stated by an old priest in Volisso to a visitor in later years, "the lamentation began in true earnest : there was no more such a thing as concealment — those who hastened to hide themselves were soon discovered. As we hunt the partridges on the hills, so they tracked men up and shot them ; some, how- ever, saved themselves by mingling with the dead, and feigning to be dead themselves." Amid the wreck and ruin, the trepidation^ and the flight, there was here and there a stand made against the invaders with the courage of despair. The village of Vrondado, the native place of Bournia, whose vanity had to a large extent prompted the disaster of" Scio, was defended by fifteen hundred Greeks against a force of Asiatics double that num- ber : the latter were driven back to the for- tress; but they returned with considerable reinforcements to the charge, and succeeded in compelling the Christians to retreat. The Greeks in this instance exhibited the highest proof of courage by withdrawing in good order to the coast, whence they finally es- caped to Psara. A heroine in this company is said to have slain three Turks with her own hand before she was overpowered by her antagonists and fell. At Chimiano, a few miles to the south of the town of Chios, a few brave Greeks seized the guns of a frigate that had run aground, and burned her. Three thousand Sciotes had crowded inta the great monastery of St. Minas, five miles south of the town, where they were sur- rounded by the Turks and summoned to surrender. They refused, however, to lay down their arms, under the certainty that death or slavery awaited them in spite of their assurances. The result was, that the Turks stormed the place, butchered the monks and every other man, woman, and child, and carried off the sacred vessels and other valuables, — a sufficient load, it was said, for fifteen mules. In this case the poor Greeks were brought out in detachments of two hundred at a time, and mercilessly cut to pieces. At the ancient foundation of Nea Mone, the richest and most interesting of the nine monasteries then existing in Scio, and occupied by four hundred monks, some two thousand fugitives had found an asylum ; the building was carried by storm, the doors of the church were forced open, even women were slaughtered while praying to heaven on their knees, and, to save further trouble, the assailants set fire to the whole pile of build- ings, leaving the Christians who had escaped the sword to perish in the flames. At a convent in the north, near Mount St. Elias,, the ruffians dug out the priests' eyes, and then I'oasted their victims alive ! It is impossible to exaggerate the horrors- inflicted on those who were carried from^ their native home into the slavery of the- East, or the agonies endured by the fifteen or twenty thousand who escaped with their lives, many of them suffering from wounds,, disease, hunger, and nakedness, and wan- dered in search of a home to the mainland 606 THE MASSACRE OF SCIO. of Greece, to Trieste, to London, to Man- chester, even to Teheran, Astrakhan, and America. Raybaud has left a thrilling description of the fugitives he saw in Corinth : — "There was not a portion of wall still stand- ing that did not serve for shelter to some unfortunate who had escaped from the mas- sacres. Among the number we saw many beautiful and delicate women, who had long enjoyed the luxuries of opulence, obliged to resort to public charity in order to sustain a life from that time doomed to misery and sorrow. Others, attacked by the pangs of child-birth, and with none to attend them, lay in the open air, exposed to the heat of the sun and to the dampness of the night. The condition of these unhappy victims offered a touching contrast with the gold- embroidered rags which most of them wore." The Vengeance of Kanaris and his Fire-ship. When the Greek fleet of fifty-six sail put out to sea on the loth of May, there was nothing left for it to do at Scio but to take vengeance on the Turkish navy. Under the direction of Andrew Miaoulis, an able and prudent seaman, the " motley assemblage of vessels called the Greek navy " sailed tor the channel of Scio, and at the end of May made several attacks on the vessels of the Capitan Pasha, both in open engagement and with fire-ships, but without success. After this fruitless attempt, the Greek squadron met at Psara. There, in a secret council, the captains resolved on darting two fire-ships by night against the foe, and, after long deliberation on the choice of bi'iilo tiers .^ they fixed on Constantine Kanaris, of Psara, and George Pipinos, of Hydra. The former was a poor sailor, not more than twenty-eight years old, who had not as yet distinguished himself by any exploit ; his fellow-Psariots knew the extreme simplicity of his nature, and did not regard him as capable of any brilliant action ; he was of small stature, and this circumstance, taken with his timid ap- pearance and his melancholy air, did not dispose strangers to entertain a flattering idea of his courage. Yet this simple and pious boatman was destined to prove the Garibaldi of the Greek revolution. On the 1 8th of June, the last day of the Ramadan, Kanaris and Pipinos, after receiv- ing the benediction at Psara, stepped on board the two xebecs which had been con- verted into fire-ships. Each of the vessels carried four-and-twenty men. Before they reached the Spalmatori Isles, at the entrance of the Chian Channel, a calm struck them. The comrades of Kanaris were afraid, as they were within range of the cannon of two Turkish frigates, and appealed to him to make back for Psara. " If you are afraid," said the plain hero, " throw yourselves into- the sea and swim for it : as for me, I mean to burn the pasha!" His companions blushed for a moment at their cowardice, and then resolved to share their lot with him. " Don't let the calm trouble you," he said, by way of comfort ; " it hinders our foes as well as us ; we shall have wind by ten o'clock." At nine there sprang up a fresh breeze, and the two ships, which had been- hugging the shore all day, as if endeavouring to make for the Gulf of Smyrna, bore down,, at dusk, upon the Turkish fleet in the road of Scio. Kanaris, seeing that his boat had not the speed of that of his companion, said to him : " Friend, if you precede me, you will have burned a vessel before I can even enter the port, and our enterprise will be only half accomphshed : give me the lead ; you will always be in time to throw yourself on the prey, and both of us will have success.** Pipinos, thinking only of the interest of his country, agreed to the proposal. It was the close of Ramadan, the month when every true believer is not permitted to eat, smoke, drink, or even to swallow his own spittle from the first streak of morning light until sunset. This period of fasting winds up with the revelry of Bairam. The Mohammedans were on this fatal night celebrating the feast and the consummation of the destruction of Scio. The evening was dark, but the whole fleet was illuminated, and the eighty gun ship of the Capitan Pasha and the seventy-four gun ship of Reala Bey were conspicuous by the prodigious quantity of variegated lamps on their yards and mast- heads. No fitter moment could have been chosen for the blow of vengeance. The leading officers had gathered on Kara All's ship to celebrate the feast ; the air was filled with the sound of festive tambours, cymbals^ and trumpets ; the vessel of the pasha was filled with the riches stolen from the mur- dered Sciotes ; besides the two thousand sailors and warriors who formed the crew, a crowd had swarmed on board to gaze on the head and hands of the gallant French- man Baleste, who had just fallen in Crete in the cause of Greece. Like a flash of lightning the fire-ship of Kanaris darts into the centre of the fleet ; he runs her bowsprit into an open port of the flagship, fastens her grappling irons near the bows of the doomed vessel ; in an instant, standing on the platform at the poop of the fire-ship, he applies the torch to the inflam- mable material, and leaps into the skiff below, where his comrades are waiting breathless with their hands upon the oars. Away went the boat into the shade, while, in the twinkling of an eye, the powder, saltpetre, petroleum, camphor, and other combustibles on the deck and spars and cordage of the fire-ship 607 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. are ablaze ; the flames sweep with the wind through the open ports of the great Turkish ship, and seize the tents that lie piled upon the lower deck ; the fire roars like a furnace, rushes up through the hatches, and envelops the vessel with the fury of a whirlwind, from stem to stern, from deck to top-mast. "Vic- tory to the Cross ! " shouted Kanaris as he sped in his scampavia past the poop under the luxurious cabin of Kara Ali. No boat could venture to approach the burning vessel ; the crafts which were lowered from the flag- ship sank with their overburdening loads : there was no escape but by plunging into the sea. Masses of molten iron, spars, and yard-arms fall around ; the cannon explode with a terrific roar ; the magazine bursts like an earthquake ; the crowds of prisoners who can make no effort to escape utter dis- mal shrieks ; and at last the sea, roaring and foaming around the hull of the ship, opens its jaws and swallows her up with her two thousand tyrants. The Capitan Pasha him- self was a victim to the vengeance of Kanaris. As he leapt into a boat from the ship, he was struck by a burning spar, and died in agony on the beach. We need only add further that the fire-ship of Pipinos, although it succeeded in grapphng the vessel of Reala Bey, was set adrift by the Turkish sailors, and burned to the water's edge without doing much damage ; that the Ottoman fleet vanished in terror towards the Dardanelles; that after its departure even the remaining mastic villages were destroyed by the Asiatic savages. During that eventful night of the i8th of June, the inhabitants of the Rock of Psara kept watch in arms and in prayer ; they saw, wavering between hope and fear, a brilliant light on the coast of Scio. When, at the dawn of day they peered into the horizon, they beheld a sail in the distance, with a purple streamer flying as the sign of victory, they hastened to the beach, they climbed on masts and roofs to catch a ghmpse of their seaman brother, whom one night had trans- figured into an immortal hero. And the simple sailor — destined to be sung by Victor Hugo and to offer the crown to a king of independent Greece— moves forward, bare- footed and with uncovered head, heeding not the clapping of hands or the shouts of " Long live Kanaris ! " throws himself in gratitude before the altar, and then runs from the acclamations of the crowd to his humble home and the bosom of his family. And when his comrade, Pipinos, arrived at the rock of Hydra, — " the island which produces prickly pears in abundance, splendid sea- captains, and excellent prime ministers," — and reported to the senate the news of the fate of the Capitan Pasha, Lazarus Conduriottes, the wealthy president, rose from his seat and said : " It belongs to you and to Kanaris to sit here ; you have made yourselves greater far than me by saving your native land." Miaoulis and his comrades were rightly suspicious that the fire which gleamed so brightly over the channel on that night of Mahommedan rejoicing would kindle the fury of the Mussulman savages to deeds of still more brutal vengeance on the few poverty-stricken Christians that had not succeeded in escaping from the island, or had been protected hitherto by the guardians of the mastic villages. They were by no means mistaken as to the character of their ibes. The sight of the body of the Capitan Pasha at once roused the passion of the des- peradoes, who rushed to the consulates, in which several hundred refugees had found shelter ; but their attempts were baffled. Vessels of the Greek fleet cruised along the shores of the island to pick up any chance fugitives who might escape from the daggers and the sabres of the Asiatics, and a small party of marines landed in the north, so as to render aid, and witness with their own eyes a httle of the devastation and atrocities that had been inflicted on the innocent and helpless natives of the "blessed" isle. A report sent to the Hydriot Admiralty by M. Jourdain, a French captain in the Greek navy, states that at the first hamlets reached by a relieving party they saw the corpses of the inhabitants piled up in regular heaps, around which old men dragged their muti- lated frames, raising their hands to heaven and praying that an end might be put to their terrible sufferings ; elsewhere they saw women who had been cruelly murdered, with their dead infants clasped in their rigid arms, and others embracing the forms of the fathers and husbands, in whose defence they appear to have given up their last breath with the courage of true heroines. The dreadful massacre of the peaceful and cultured inhabitants of Scio opened the eyes of Europe to the nature of the struggle that was waged between the Turks and Greeks, and called forth the sympathy and aid of the West. The hope of the Greeks had become desperate when, in the month of July 1827, the European Powers recognized their inde- pendence by the Treaty of London. Then followed the battle of Navarino, on the 26th of October, when the allied fleets of England, France, and Russia almost annihilated the Turkish navy under Ibrahim Pasha, whose violation of an armistice and horrible atro- cities — almost rivalling those of Scio — had roused the blood of civilized Europe to war- heat ; and, on the 14th of September, 1829, thrashed in Europe and Asia by the Russian army, the Suhan signed the Peace of Adria- nople, and formally acknowledged the inde- pendence of Greece. M. M. 608 Leyden in the Sixteenth Century. JOHN OF LEYDEN AND THE ANABAPTISTS. THE STORY OF A GREAT DELUSION. " O terrible excels Of headstrong will ! Can this be piety? No ; some fierce maniac hath usurped her name. All peace destroyed ! All hopes a wilderness ! All blessings cursed, and glory turned to shame ! ' Wordsworth. Introduction — " Corruptio optlmis pesslma" — The Peasants' War — Rise ofthe Anabaptists— Luther's return to Wittenberg— — Principles of the Anabaptists — John of Leyden— Arrival of Matthys and Bockelson in Miinster — Anabaptisnx triumphant — The City Beleaguered — A Glimpse of City Life — John of Leyden Supreme — He is made King — ^The Progress of the Siege — A Failure — The King in Danger — Overthrow — The Execution — Retrospect. There Introduction. |HERE never has been, or will be, in this erring world, any great move- ment, however necessary or good, but it brings in its train some abuses. is a Latin proverb, Corricptio optiini pessima — "The corruption of that which is best is the worst corruption of ail." And there are words of our Divine Lord, which express the same truth : "No man putteth new wine into old wine-skins : else the skins burst, and the wine is spilled, and the skins perish" (Matt. ix. 17. Rev. Ver.) We are about to look on a melancholy illus- tration of this truth. The new wine, the declaration of the liberty of conscience and the sole responsibility of man to God, was taught to men who had no desire to use that liberty aright, nor to walk in the truth that they might find. They v/ere as old bottles into which the new wine was poured ; and the truth was turned into a curse to them : "that which should have been for their wealth, was unto them an occasion of fall- ing." Even Luther was alarmed at the manner in which some of those professing his prin- ciples began to act ; and, in fact, it was this which caused him to come forth from his retirement in the Wartburg, and return to Wittenberg, where one Thomas Miinzer and other fanatics, of whom we shall hear pre- sently, were disturbing the peace. Luther's chief helper was Philip Melanchthon, a much younger man than himself, very gentle, and also one of the most learned men of his time. We cannot stay to dwell on the various con- troversies in which Luther became involved with other Reformers, but we have to record first of all the outbreak of v/hat is known as the Peasants' War. The Peasants' War. In another of these papers, some account has been given ofthe French Jacquerie, the 609 R R EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. rising of the peasantry against oppression in the 14th century. The same causes had been at work in Germany; the peasants had been kept in utter poverty by the princes, who had not only exacted service from them and heavily taxed them, especially on their favourite drinks, but had frequently destroyed their crops with hunting parties. When, therefore, Luther had proclaimed freedom for them, they understood him to speak of political and social rather than spiritual freedom, and in 1524 they rose against their tyrants. They were greatly animated by the example of the Swiss, who had fought for and won their freedom against the House of Austria. The first outbreak was in Swabia, thence the agitation spread into Thuringia Franconia, Alsace, and Lorraine. They issued a manifesto, caUing for the right to choose their ov/n pastors, the abolition of serfdom, the right of hunting and fishing, and freedom of forest land. And they ap- pealed to Luther for his approval of their demands. He was greatly embarrassed, for he did not wish to break with the princes who had befriended him. He issued an ex- hortation by way of reply, teUing both sides some home truths : he ascribed the disturb- ances to the repression of the Gospel ; be- sought the princes to clemency and justice, and the people to submission. No wonder that both sides were angry with him ; he who preaches moderation in the mJdst of furious passions must expect such a result. At first all seemed to promise in their favour. Some nobles even joined them, — among themGotz von Berlichingen, one of the most famous of German knights,* — and they proceeded to deeds of violence and cruelty. Thus, having captured the town of Weins- berg, they put to death with great cruelty Count Ludwig von Helfenstein, with sixty of his followers, mocking the entreaties of * As honest narrators, we feel bound to quote a word or two here from a modern historian; — " The impregnable castles of the German knights, the nature of their arms and equipments, the number of their retainers, made them so many little sove- reigns, with no law but that in their own breasts. And how did they use this power ? — As the per- pretrators, instead of the redressers, of wrongs and grievances. They were nothing but public robbers, highwaymen on a grand scale, ready for any deed of violence. To illustrate this subject by a few in- stances. In May 1512, Gotz von Berlichingen and Hans Selbig von Frauenstein two of the most re- nowned of German knights, at the head of one hun- dred and thirty horse, attacked between Forcheim and Neusess the caravan which was returning to Nuremberg from the Leipsic fair, and carried off thirty-one persons and a booty valued at 8800 gulden. About the same time another troop assembled in the castle of Hohenkrahn for the abducdon of the daughter of a citizen of Kaufbeuern, whom a nobleman had wooed in vain. Such deeds were common." — Dyer's Hist, of Alodern Europe, i., 301. 610 his wife (who was a daughter of the Emperor Maximilian) that they would spare him. They followed this up by killing, first her child of two years old and then herself, while a boy who had been in the Count's service gam- bolled about the scene, and played a march on his flute. It was this deed which spoilt their cause in the eyes of Luther. He denounced them all as murderers, and called on the princes to show them no mercy, but to destroy them root and branch. By this time Luther and Erasmus, who had origi- nally been friends, had become alienated, Erasmus being terrified at the thought of leaving old moorings altogether; and this fierce denunciation of the rebel peasants by Luther led to a fresh bitterness between him and Erasmus. The peasants next laid siege to Wiirzburg, which the princes had made their head-quarters. It was nine o'clock in the evening of May 15th, 1525, when the rebel flag was unfurled against the citadel, and the peasants rushed to the attack, filling the air with horrible cries. The castle was under the orders of Sebas- tian von Rotenheim, one of the warmest partizans of the Reformation. He had put its defences into a formidable state, and the soldiers had responded to his appeal to defend it by solemnly raising their hands to heaven, and swearing to do so. The most terrible conflict ensued. The castle responded to the desperate efforts of the peasants by pouring upon them showers of burning brim- stone and boiling pitch and by a vigorous cannonade. Thus unexpectedly attacked by enemies whom they could not even see,, the peasants recoiled ; but, with renewed fury at being baffled, they rushed up once more. Night came on, and the battle still raged. Lit up with countless battle-fires, the for- tress stood out from amid the surrounding darkness like some huge giant, vomiting forth flames, and struggling alone amid thunders and lightnings for the salvation of the Em- pire against the ferocious valour of Pande- monium itself. At two o'clock in the morning the assailants turned and fled. After a day's pause they resolved to await the imperial army in the open field. They had not to wait long. The artillery and cavalry made hideous havoc in their ranks. Day after day fresh bodies of them were met, and the same terrible fate was for them all. Then princes, nobles, bishops proceeded to vie with one another in cruelty. Hundreds of prisoners were hanged on trees all along the roads, often having been tortured to death. The Bishop of Wiirzburg, who had fled, re- turned and went through his diocese, accom- panied by executioners, whom he kept un- ceasingly at work. Gotz von Berlichingen was condemned to perpetual imprisonment. Eighty-five rebel prisoners had their eyes JOHN OF LEVDEN AND THE ANABAPTISTS. pulled out, and then were turned loose to wan- der about and grope their way as best they could, stumbling over the roads, and begging their bread, if so be they might thus be saved from starvation. The wretched boy who had played on his flute at the murder of Count von Helfenstein was chained to a stake and burnt alive, enough length of chain being left him to dance about in his agonies, and so give the more sport to his tormentors. Similar outrages overtook the wretched peasants in Lorraine and Alsace, and more than one hundred thousand persons perished, whilst whole districts once fertile were turned into hideous solitudes and ruins. Rise of the Anabaptists. The peasant revolt would now have been at an end had it not been fanned into fresh life by a band of fanatics who had arisen in Wittenberg, called Anabaptists. " When any great religious ferment takes place," says the venerable historian of the Reformation, D'Aubigne, " some impure elements are ever found to mingle with the manifestations of the truth. One or more false reforms are seen to arise, and they serve as a testimony or countersign to the true reform. Thus, in the times of Christ, many false messiahs attested the appearance of the true." In the little town of Zwickau there were some persons who were so excited by the great events which were agitating Christen- dom that they aspired to direct revelations from God, and thought not at all of sancti- fication of heart and life. " What good is there," they cried, " in keeping so close to the Bible ? The Bible— always the Bible ! we are weary of it. It is by the Spirit' that we are illuminated. God Himself speaks to us then, and reveals to us what to do and what to say." A cloth weaver named Storch asserted that the angel Gabriel appeared to him in the night, and after com- municating matters which it was not yet time to reveal, said to him, "As for thee, thou shalt be seated on my throne." Then a student of Wittenberg joined him, one Mark Stiibner, who, abandoning his studies, declared that he had received a supernatural gift of interpreting the Scriptures. But a fanatic named Miinzer gave the new sect its regular organization. Under his guidance, Storch, professing to follow the example of Christ, chose twelve new apostles and seventy- two disciples ; and the new body declared, as has been declared by a sect in our own days which is rapidly dying out, that Apostles and Prophets had been restored to the Church of God. They began to deliver their message : " Woe, woe ! to the world ! woe to the Church ! Within a few years universal deso- lation will overspread the land ; a great tribulation is coming on the earth. The un- godly shall be hurled to destruction, and the earth being purified with blood, God will establish His Kingdom, and his saints shall reign gloriously. Storch will have supreme authority, and then there shall be only one faith, one baptism." The sect received the name of "The Zwickau prophets." Their rejection of infant baptism, which was in accor- dance with their view that all justification must be preceded byconscious faith in the recipient, and their consequent repetition of baptism of adults, became the distinctive badge of their party. This preaching profoundly impressed the people. Some godly souls were affected and overjoyed at the thought of prophets being restored to the Church, while all who loved the marvellous and were craving after novelties, threw themselves into the arms of the eccentric prophets of Zwickau. The pastor of Zwickau, Nicholas Hauf- mann, to whom Luther gave the beautiful testimon}', "What I teach, he practises," raised his voice against all this fanaticism, and not in vain. Then the prophets pro- ceeded to form themselves into societies, and taught subversive doctrines; tumults arose in the streets, and Storch and his followers migrated to Wittenberg (December 1521), where they appealed to the public, and claimed to be the true representatives of Luther. Storch, indeed, soon left Witten- berg, for he was a most restless spirit, but the rest remained, and the excitement grew. Whilst it was at its height, two young Swiss were, one stormy night in the spring of 1522, travelling through Germany, and arrived, wet through, at the " Black Bear " Inn, at Jena. The town was quite engrossed with the re- joicings of the carnival, and all its inhabitants were dancing, masquerading, and feasting. Fatigued, dispirited, and melancholy, they halted at the inn door; so woe-begone in appearance by the soaking which the rain had given them, that they paused at the door, ashamed to come further. But a knight who was seated by the fire, with his trunk- hose over-lapped by his bright red doublet, rose and kindly invited them in. He had one hand on the pommel of his sword, and the other grasped the handle, but in front of him lay a book, which he seemed to be read- ing attentively. However, he made much of the deluged travellers, invited them to sup with him, and pledged them in some beer. "You are Swiss," he said, presently, after some conversation ; ''. I can tell it by your tongues. What is your canton ? " " St. Gall," was the answer. " You are students ?" "We are." "You must study Greek and Hebrew if you want to understand Holy Scripture." The youths stared. " We are going to Wittenberg," they said, "to hear Doctor Luther, and, if God spares our lives. 611 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. we will not return till we have done so. Can you tell us whether he is there or not ? " "I believe he is not," was the answer ; " but Philip Melanchthon is there ; you should go and hear him; and there is a countryman of yours there, a good man, Dr. Schurff." Pausing for a moment, he continued, "Where have you been studying lately ? " They told him at Basel. "Is Erasmus of Rotterdam still there?" said the knight. The youths stared more than ever. Imagine a knight talking about learned Erasmus, and Dr. Schurfif, and the need of the study of Greek and Hebrew! "What do they think of Luther in Switzerland?" pursued the knight. "The opinions are very various," was the reply ; " some cannot praise him sufficiently, and some hold him an abominable here- tic." " No doubt," said the knight, drily. Encouraged by his cordiality, one of the students ventured to take up the book that the knight was reading, and found, to his amazement, that it was a Hebrew Psalter, Whilst they were wondering afresh at this, the landlord quietly beckoned one of them out. " You have a great desire to see Luther," he whispered. " That is Luther that you have been talking to, but don't betray that you know him. / know him, in spite of his dis- guise." It was even so, though the youths were still incredulous. They supped together ; then, according to German custom, Luther took up a large glass, and with a serious air said, "Swiss, one more glass on returning thanks. But you are not used to beer. Pledge me in this light wine," Then, hold- ing out his hands to the students, he said, "When you arrive at Wittenberg, give my compliments to Doctor Schurff." " With all our hearts," said the youths ; " but in what name ? " " Tell him that he that ought to be there, salutes him." The great Reformer was even on his way to Wittenberg, to try to put down the anarchy, but he was obliged to travel thus disguised, for being under the ban of the Empire he was liable to be killed by any one who should re- cognize him. He had learned how his teach- ing concerning faith had been perverted in Wittenberg, and determined to run all risks rather than see his work undone. It was Friday, the yth of March, that he re-entered his native town. All the bur- gesses welcomed him, for they had again found the pilot whom they trusted to extri- cate the vessel from the shoals into which it had drifted. We can hardly imagine to ourselves the profound thrill with which the great congre- gation saw him mount the pulpit next day. His sermons, preached on that and on eight successive days, are among his very best. They were simple, noble, full at once of vigour and of mildness. He explained eagerly that justification is the work of God, that it must precede everything; that faith is the acceptance on the part of man of Christ's finished work. And thus he maintained that it was in accordance with God's will to bap- tize little children, seeing that from birth, they are spiritual beings, and to be formally pro- claimed such by outward sign. The work of f-dth in them is to believe as soon as they are able to learn that they have been pre- sented to, and accepted by, God. His sermons are earnest appeals to the people, yet having for their object the calming and allaying of passion, " You want more than faith ; you want charity. If a man with a sword in his hand happens to be alone, it matters little whether he keep it in the scab- bard or not. But should he be in the midst of a crowd, he ought to keep it from hurting any one. You think the abolition of the mass agreeable to Scripture. Agreed. But what regard have you for order and decency ? You ought to have been addressing the Lord with fervent prayers, and not to have proceeded with all this violence. Without sincerity of heart and Christian love no work can prosper, and I would not give for the finest of work which is without these even the stalk of a pear. When Paul arrived at Athens, he found there altars to false gods ; he dealt with them without tumult or violence or fraud. So did I when I began to preach. If I had appealed to violence, Germany might have been soaked in blood. Do you know what the devil thinks when he sees people employ force in disseminating the truth ? Seated with his arms crossed beside hell-fire he says with a spiteful leer, 'These fellows are sages indeed thus to do my work for me,'" Day by day the effect increased. Melanchthon and the magistrates saw with delight that peace was coming back, and even some of the Augus- tinian friars who heard him were persuaded to accept his doctrines. Then came a further task. He held a conference with the Zwickian prophets, but soon dismissed them as alto- gether contemptible. He listened calmly while Stiibner explained how the Church was to be changed and the world regenerated. When the latter paused to see what impres- sion he had made, "Nothing of what you have said rests upon the Holy Scriptures," said Luther, " it is all fables." Miinzer could not contain himself for rage. He shouted and gesticulated like a madman, and beat the table with passion, Luther remained calm, " The first apostles," said he, " proved their mission by miracles. Do you the same," " We shall do so," said the prophets. Stiib- ner added, " Martin Luther, I am going to tell you what is passing in your soul. You are beginning to believe that my doctrine is true;" and he fixed his eyes on Luther with a commanding look. Luther paused for a 612 JOHN OF LEYDEN AND THE ANABAPTISTS. moment while he returned the look with interest, then he said, " The Lord rebuke thee, Satan." Then the "prophets," foaming and gnashing their teeth, withdrew, after pouring upon him all the hard names which their anger could invent. Grievous mischief was hereby caused to the Reformation, for the Duke of Bavaria and others who had espoused it, disgusted at the fanaticism of the Zwickian party, began to draw towards Rome again. Miinzer having been expelled from Witten- berg, went to Alstadt in Thuringia, where he protessed to be inspired by the Holy Ghost, and announced that he was about to restore the Church to what it was under the apostles. First he abolished Church music and all ceremonies, and maintained that to obey princes who were not " spiritual " was to serve both God and Belial. Next, marching at the head of a number of parishioners to a chapel near Alstadt, and to which people had resorted on pilgrimages from all quarters, he pulled it all down. But this exploit was a little too much for the good townsfolk, and he was driven from thence, and then from Nuremberg ; but at Miihlhausen the people rallied to him, and helped him to drive the magistrates from their seats and the monks from the convents. He then established a " Perpetual Council," of which he himself was president, that proclaimed equality and community of goods. No wonder that Miihl- hausen was speedily filled with idle knaves and ruffians. And, as usual in such cases, he soon lost all control of them. A renegade monk named Pfeiffer, a still more violent and dangerous fanatic than himself, persuaded the sect to make an inroad into the neigh- bouring country, where they plundered churches, convents, and castles, and returned home laden with their booty. The country rose in arms against them. Philip of Hesse, the leader of the forces chosen to put down the disorders, was unwilling to shed un- necessary blood, and sent a young nobleman to treat with the Anabaptists. Miinzer re- sponded by torturing him to death. Of course there was but one course open now — that of war. Miinzer went forth with his herd of fanatics on the ii^th of May, 1525, exactly a year after the siege of Wiirzburg. He promised them the miraculous protection of God, and invoked the Holy Spirit with cries and chants. "We shall this day," said he, " see the arm of the Lord revealed, and all our enemies shall be destroyed." At that moment there appeared a rainbow ; and in it the fanatical crowd, who bore a rainbow on their standards, saw a sure token of the pro- tection of heaven. " Fear nothing," said Miin- zer, " I shall catch in my sleeve all the bullets which are shot against you." The artillery soon broke their rude ram- part to pieces, and carried dismay and death into the midst of them. Fanaticism and courage disappeared together ; they fled panic-stricken in all directions ; but five thousand perished on that day alone. When the battle was over one of the soldiers went up into a loft in the house in which he was quartered, and found a man lying on the floor. " Who art thou ? art thou a rebel?" he asked; and as he spoke he took up a portfolio, and found in it letters addressed to Thomas Miinzer. "And art thou Miinzer?" was his next question. " No," was the terrified answer. But the soldier did not believe him, and was right. Miin- zer it was. " Thou art my prisoner," said his captor, and dragged him off to the im- perial commander. In a few minutes his head rolled on the ground. A nobleman discovering among the prison- ers a fine-looking rustic, went up to him and said, " Well, young man, which government do you like best, that of peasants or that of princes ? " " Ah, my lord," said the poor fellow with a deep-drawn sigh, "no knife cuts so keen as when one peasant lords it over others." The remains of the insurrection were ex- tinguished in blood. And thus ended the Peasant War, with so much to cause us to sympathize with the oppressed, but brought to nought through the brutality of these fanatics. The new wine had broken the wine-skins, and the burdens upon the peasantry for many a long year were heavier than ever, while the cause of the Reformation was identified in the minds of honest but not deep-seeing men with the extravagances and perversions of Scripture of the Anabaptists. Principles of the Anabaptists. Here seems the proper place for endea- vouring to form some idea of the principles which underlay the movements which caused so much disaster at the time and was the cause of much of the division which has so deeply afflicted Christianity ever since. The question which first engaged the attention of men was a deeply practical question. It re- lated to the acceptance of the soul before God ; the forgiveness of sin. In one word, it was the question of Justification. This being put foremost, there came this further question : How did the doctrines of the Church and the Scriptures bear upon it ? What had the doctrine of the two natures of Christ to do with it, for example ? How far has man freedom of will ? The different answers given by different parties were the causes of strife. One school held that man could win salva- tion by his own endeavours, and that Christ 613 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. is his teacher and example to that end. This was the meaning of our being saved by Christ. The first leader of this doctrine was one Hans Denk. He was a learned and conscientious young man, who, making "God is love" the basis of his teaching, formulated a scheme which differs little from Unitarian- ism, except that he appears not to have held universal salvation. However, he is said to have retracted his views shortly before his death. A disciple of his was Ludwig Hatzer, a man of immoral life and of vio- lence in the expression of his opinions. He formally denied the divinity of Christ, but the manuscript of the treatise which he wrote upon it was burned after his death. These views spread through Germany, blown about apparently like thistle-down, for there is no evidence how they got, for example, to Salz- burg, where dwelt a community of people who rejected all divine worship, established bro- therhoods by voluntary contributions, and called themselves "Garden Brethren " {Gart- ner Briider). They were laid hold of ; those who would not recant were burnt alive, those who would were beheaded and their bodies burnt. In some cases they were locked up in their meeting-houses^ and the buildings set on fire. There was one beautiful girl of sixteen who refused to recant ; but the people pitied her so much that the executioner took her in his arms, held her head in a horse- trough till she was drowned, and then threw her into the fire. Another school started opinions which seem to be identical with those of the Gnostics of the first two centuries. They began with the distinction of the flesh and the spirit. Instead of holding that man is able to fight against evil and overcome it, they held that sin is in the flesh alone, not in the spirit, and that the spirit is free from the evil which the flesh commits. Christ was altogether spiritual; He took not on Him the bodily nature of man because it is accursed. The leader of this party, Melchior Hoff- mann, invented adult baptism as a badge of those who adopted these "enlightened" views. These diversities branched off into a hundred lesser ones. Some thought infant baptism merely useless ; some thought it an abomination. Some were of opinion that Sabbath observance was a breach of liberty ; others thought it wrong to affect separation and singularity. Some were for communism, others for voluntary charity. Some refused to perform military service, others to take an oath. Some held the marriage tie to be only binding when it was concluded in the spirit. Such reformers deserted their wives and took others. All held Church government to be insupportable bondage. All these vagaries of course very soon brought them into contact with the civil power ; but they showed them- selves ready for this, for their numbers in- creased equally with their fanaticism. They were convinced that the time was close at hand which should give them complete victory over all their opponents ; and Hoff- mann, after travelling far and wide over Germany, at length settling himself in Stras- burg, announced that it was to be the seat of the New Jerusalem, and that a hundred and forty-four thousand virgin apostles were to go foith from thence and gather all the people of God into the fold. They were to seal the elect of God, after which Christ would come and deliver the sword into their hands, that they might utterly sweep all the ungodly of the earth away. Then the saints were to reign gloriously, without laws or authorities or restrictions of any kind. They were to live in overflowing abundance. The dream was too intoxicating not to find believers, and the next movement followed inevitably and obviously, — those who would not accept the truth must be compelled by the sword The attempt of the civil power to repress those who held themselves to be "the elect people," did but add to their arrogance and precipitate violence John of Leyden. Holland at this time was full of Anabaptists, many having fled thither on the suppression of the Peasants' Revolt. John Matthys, a baker of Leyden, a disciple of Hoffmann, who had adopted these last-day views with wild enthusiasm, announced himself as Enoch, sent to preach to the ungodly, ordained a new apostolate, and sent them to the neighbouring provinces to seal the people of the Lord. One ofthis new "twelve" was John Bockelson. He was the bastard son of a magistrate at the Hague named Bockel and of a serf woman who had been bought from her husband. The youth became a tailor, and after wander- ing about Europe, from Lisbon to Lubeck, finally married and settled at Leyden, where, growing discontented with his business, he opened a beer-house. Of handsome presence and agreeable manner, he was also possessed of a powerful eloquence, and it was his great ambition to cut a figure in the " Rhetoric Chamber," which had been estabhshed at Leyden as in the other Dutch towns. At one time he became a player, and wrote comedies; but this did not prove lucrative, and he cast about for something else, and found it. Hos- tility to the Church was fashionable in these chambers, and Bockelson followed the fashion. Thus it was that he adopted Anabaptist views, and became one of Matthys's "apostles." He went successively on a preaching mission to Briel, Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Enkhuysen, 614 JOHN OF LEYDEN AND- THE ANABAPTISTS. Alkmar, baptizing wherever he went, and ordaining " elders," who, in their turn, were to be propagators of his doctrines. The course of this narrative now carries us into Westphalia, the name which had been given to that portion of the great ancient duchy of Saxony which laybetween the Weser and the Rhine. In Westphalia the Reformed principles had made great progress, and for the most part peacefully. But there were a few exceptions, as at Soest and Paderborn, where there was cruel persecution of the new doc- trines, which put them down indeed, but kindled a fierce feeling in the hearts of the persecuted, who looked forward to an oppor- tunity of reasserting their opinions. But the disorders and conflicts nowhere reached such a height as in the city of Miinster, the Westphahan capital. It is, as it stands at present, a well-built and interesting looking as well as flourishing town of some twenty- three thousand inhabitants, standing on the river Aa, in the midst of a flat country covered with fields of flax and hemp. In ancient times it was called Meiland, but when Charles the Great forced the Saxons in a body to accept Christianity, he founded a monastery and bishopric here, and the name Miinster has ever since superseded the original iMeiland. In this city there was living in 1530 a certain man named Wiggers, — a worthy, respectable man, but with an unworthy and not respectable wife. Passionate admirers were in attendance upon her every day, one of whom was Bernhard Rottmann,a Lutheran preacher. Her husband died, and she was suspected, rightly or wrongly, of having poisoned him in order to marry Rottmann, which she immediately did. But public opinion was so unequivocal in its condem- nation of Rottmann, that he strove to set ■ himself right by ostentatious profession of the severest morality. He denounced the corruption of the world, inveighed against the Lutheran Reformers for want of thorough- ness, rejected infant baptism, and invented a ceremonial of his own for the Lord's Supper. He was bribed to go out of "the city by persons anxious to avoid disturbance, and afterwards visited several German towns without settling anywhere. At length he returned to Miinster, and fixed himself for a while in the suburbs ; but his influence in the city so increased that his friends brought him back, and, after some struggle, succeeded in securing for him the church of St. Lambert. Not only so, but his partisans at length obtained a majority in the city council, and succeeded in passing a decree that all the churches were to be delivered up to the new- fangled preachers. Upon this the clergy and the minority of the council quitted the city, betook themselves to the surrounding country, and devoted themselves to raising public opinion against Rottmann and his devotees. All communication between the city and the country was cut off, supplies were stopped, and any citizens that could be caught were imprisoned. The bishop was at Telgte, a mile from Miinster, and from hence a summons was issued to the citizens to return to their ancient faith. Their re- sponse was to march at night, fall upon their sleeping enemies, upon councillors and church dignitaries, and .carry them back prisoners at daybreak. The bishop dared not attempt force, lest they should slay their prisoners, and negotiations ensued, the result of v/hich was that the victorious citizens were to have the six parish churches for worship on Rottmann's system, while the bishop and his chapter might practise their own. The bishop himself, like Hermann, Bishop of Koln, seems to have desired to carry out reform without abandoning the main prin- ciples of the ancient liturgy. He would, in fact, have taken, if he could, the same ground as the body now known in Germany as the " Old Catholics." But it was evident that the divergence between the two parties was too great to allow the peace to be lasting. There was no hope of formulating any terms which should include the professors of the ancient creed and a man who refused to consider baptism an essential of Christian life. Rottmann felt that his position was precarious ; the outside world was against him, some of his own folfowers were alarmed at him, and he saw that the civil power would in the long run be too strong for him. But he saw a way of escape from his difficulties. His followers, in the general moral and intellectual con- fusion in which he had landed them, were easily persuaded to take up Anabaptism. For the Lutheran system ascribed great power to the civil government and recognized the secular element in the state. The ac- knowledgment of an authority in the civil power is simply, when it is looked into, the acknowledgment of the rights of the citizens who make up the state. On the other hand, Anabaptism was an exclusive despotism ; it claimed to have no authority controlling it. Its members were the servants of the Lord alone, and refused any other lordship. But for a while the organization was lacking which should direct these high aspirations, and give them aim and object. We are now to see it suddenly furnished. Arrival of Matthys and Bockelson IN MiJNSTER. On the day of the Epiphany, 1534, the prophet Matthys and his fanatical apostle John Bockelson of Leyden suddenly ap- 615 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. peared in the city in the house of one Knipperdolling, a rich burgher who had adopted Anabaptist opinions. Their re- markable dress, their commanding bearing, their self-possessed confidence in their preach- ing, and withal their persuasive manners, made a deep impression on the citizens, tossed as they were by all kinds of doubts, and ready to close with anything that offered them certainty. The prospect held out to them by the new-comers is easily expressed, — " holy sensuality ; " and when men are cut away from their religious moorings, and at the mercy of any wind that blows, there can be none more powerful than this : " Please and gratify any desire that offers itself, and believe that all the while you will be pleasing God." All the city seemed to have gone mad. Wives came to the meetings by stealth, and brought their jewels as the first-fruits of their devotion. Their husbands began with indig- nation against them, and ended by being converted too. Nuns openly blasphemed the mass in the market-place, girls danced while they shouted, "Woe to sinners ! " The burgomaster was mobbed by women because he remained firm on the side of the town pastor, who refused assent to the new opinions. A blacksmith's boy began to preach the new gospel, and when the Council ordered him to be imprisoned, all his comrades assembled and let him out. About a month after the delirium began, a tumult broke out between the Anabaptists and the Town Council, who were by no means ready to go at such a pace. It was soon clear that the Anabaptists, though noisy, were in a great minority, and the word went round that they were to be expelled. But who shall attempt to gauge the power of fanaticism ? Their danger seemed to raise them altogether above the earth. They saw visions in the air : a man -wearing a golden crown, with a sword and a scourge in his hand ; another with blood streaming from his hands ; the conqueror of the Apocalypse on the white horse going forth conquermg and to conquer. The calmer Lutherans were moved with pity, if not with secret sympathy ; they feared, too, that the putting down the fanatics might be followed by thraldom to the bishop, and they began to propose terms. These were, that every one should enjoy liberty of conscience, but should obey the civil magistrate in temporal matters. The Anabaptists rightly regarded this as a victory to themselves. They were wild with dehght. " The faces of the Christians be- came beautiful in colour," said one of them (Christians being themselves exclusively). Children of seven years old prophesied. " We do not believe that ever such joy was known before," said another. And now there came additions to their number every day. For their existence being now legally recognized, men of like opinions came pouring into Miinster, — women who had left their husbands, and husbands who had deserted their wives. Rottmann promised them all tenfold compensation for whatever they had given up. And thus within two months from the first appearance of Matthys and Bockelson in the town, their followers had gained a majority. How they used their power was soon to appear. Anabaptism Triumphant. The elections for the Town Council, which showed how the tables had been turned, were held on the 21st of February, 1534. " The electors," was the triumphant boast, "were not now men of the flesh, but of the spirit." On the 27th a great meeting of Anabaptists for prayer was held in the town- hall. In the midst of it the prophet Matthys seemed to sink into a deep slumber, when he suddenly started up and announced that the will of God had been revealed to him that all unbelievers who refused to be converted must be instantly driven out. "Away with the children of Esau," he cried ; " the inheritance belongeth to the sons of Jacob." The cry was taken up instantly, " Away with the un- godly ! " The snow lay deep on the ground, the wind and the rain were converting it into horrible mire, when every house was entered, and all who would not abjure their infant baptism were driven into the streets. Women with half-naked babies, little children knee- deep in slush and snow, old men with not a penny left of their life's earnings, went forth homeless. Young lads, with scared faces, holding in their hands a bit of bread which their schoolmasters had givento comfort them or to allay their hunger, went side by side with their parents with bare feet through the snow. But on reaching the gates all the wanderers were searched ; the fanatics took away from the mothers the bottles of milk which they had secured for their children, and the bread which the lads were conveying to their mouths, and the few small coins which the men had been able to secure for their wants. If their clothes were good, they took these too. Then they drove them out, with the cry, " Away, ye wicked pagans ! " The Ana- baptists were thus masters of the situation. They gathered together all the property that could be found, and Matthys appointed seven "deacons" to distribute it among the faith- ful. All intercourse with the " pagans " was. strictly forbidden. Those who received the new baptism alone were saints. Marriages, previously solemnized were annulled ; laws w^ere abolished as infractions of liberty. AH distinctions of rank were suppressed. 616 JOHN OF LEYDEN AND THf. The City Beleaguered. The fanatics would olarii-,, \. -tend .heir don^^i'^^^L^K^ - Jo and leave the Bishon of \r- ! °'".' '^°°^^' own ,a„.e3. B„^.,°41r';Vaf gji^i? Anabaptists plundering thf C»„^r~ ■ THE Churches and breaking the Images. b?p"!s.rs;ccVed"L™"''" ^''°""<' 'he Ana- EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Should these be victorious, might he not turn on those who refused their help, and humble them before the bishop of Miinster? They resolved, therefore, to send help, artillery, cavalry, infantry; only stipulating that the see should compensate them. The promise was made, the helps were sent, and by the end of April 1534 a strong army beleaguered the town. A Glimpse of Citv Life, Besieging a town is not the same thing as taking it, and the allied princes knew that they had their work to do. The city was well provisioned and well armed, and the besieged fanatics betrayed no signs of fear. They at once showed that they would tolerate nothing that was not altogether identified with themselves. All the pictures and statues in cathedral and market-place were destroyed. It is said that in richness they had no equal save at Ko!n. A splendid collection of manu- scripts, which had been brought from Italy, and had cost twenty thousand florins, was solemnly burnt in front of the cathedral. No book v/as to be allowed but the Bible, and this also was to be subjected to the judgment of the prophets. Next, all property was de- clared to be common. Not only the property of the exiles, but that of the faithful also, all gold, silver, and jewels had to be brought forth for the common use. Each man was to exercise his own craft as heretofore, but tailors were enjoined to introduce no new garment or fashion. Meat and drink were provided at public cost, at which the " brothers and sisters " sat apart from each other, while one i-ead and expounded a chapter of the Bible. As for the civil government, nothing could be simpler. The prophet Matthys was supreme and absolute, Avith Bockelson for his lieutenant and Rott- mann for his chief preacher. The besieged made no progress. The town was not only well fortified, but it stood in a plain, and there was no rising ground in its neighbour- liood on which the besiegers could erect their engines. Some of their soldiers who were taken prisoners in the sorties were beheaded by order of the prophets, and their heads were set up on the walls to show their com- rades what fate awaited tliem. But accidents will happen even in the best regulated states. On Easter Day of that year, before Matthys had been two months upon his throne, an attack was made by the besiegers. He rushed out to put it down with a strong hand, and was killed. Bockelson claimed to have foretold it; there were some who even averred that he had contrived it. He now took his place, and ruled not less absolutely. John of Leyden Supreme. The new monarch for a while kept silence. Those about him were not slow to declare that even in civil matters merely human laws were to -be disregarded, and that the Word of God, as interpreted by His servants, was the only supreme authority. At length he spake. God, he said, had made known to him His will ; there were to be twelve elders in the new, as in the ancient, Israel, and he proceeded to nominate them. The faithful Rottmann assured the congregation from the cathedral that a revelation to himself con- firmed the prophet's utterance, and presented the newly appointed elders to it. No sort of objection was made, no form of election was gone through. Six of them were to sit each day, morning and afternoon, to administer justice: the prophet was to proclaim their sentences unto Israel, and Knipperdolling was to execute them. Then further, a code of laws was put forth. It consisted entirely of extracts from the books of Moses. What next ? One might almost answer this question from the analogy of other similar de- lusions. Fanaticism is usually accompanied by debauchery, and he who throws over his faith may look to throw over also his morality before long. Prophet John was already mar- ried, but he desired Divara, the young and pretty widow of his predecessor, who, we may say in passing, had divorced his aged spouse to marry Divara. What wonder that the great man found no difficulty in seeing his way! He announced that it was as lawful now as it was under the old covenant for a man to have a plurality of wives. Such a proposition, indeed, had been made to Luther, who in- dignantly rejected it. W^e need not say that, Bockelson was not likely to be affected by such scruples ; was he not living entirely by the Scriptures ? and was not he the inter- preter of them ? Yet the consciences of the citizens were not yet prepared for such abominations, though Rottmann thundered for several days together in defence of the new utterance, and practically demonstrated his own conviction by taking four wives. A smith named Mollenhok raised his voice in defence of decency, and called upon the citizens not to return to barbarism. All o( the old-fashioned people who were not utterly given up to the new opinions rallied round him, and some of the prophet's partizans were imprisoned, while proposals were made for recalling the exiles. But John's organiza- tion was too strong, and the lowest class were staunch to one who had taught them confiscation. Mollenhok's party were driven from one post to another till they took refuge in the town-hall. Their enemies immediately invested it, and planted cannon, which women had dragged thither, in front. The besieged 6i8 JOHN OF LEYDEN AND THE ANABAPTISTS. saw that their case was hopeless, and an- nounced their surrender from the windows. They had better have died at their posts than trust such ruffians, John ordered that they should be tied to trees and shot, an- nouncing that he who fired the first shot would receive the special favour of God. But as presently the fear arose among the faithful that the continual discharge of the guns would induce the belief that the citizens "were fighting, and as also it was considered that this was a waste of powder, it was ordered that the rest, sixty in number, were to be slain with the sword, and the execution was committed to Knipperdolling. At first he proceeded in a leisurely and capricious manner, as if he would lengthen out the sweet delights of his task, killing one or two a day. But presently, fearing that by chance the prophet might somewhat relent, he finished off the whole in a batch. From this time he had the power of putting to death on the spot any man whom he detected disobeying the new laws. He stalked about the streets with a drawn sword in his hand, preceded by four heralds, and striking terror into all hearts . BOCKELSON IS I^IADE KiNG. All was now ready for the next move. A fellow-prophet, Tausendschuer, declared one morning that God had revealed to him that John of Leyden was to be king ; the preachers with one consent supported him. Declared and agreed to, every man came forward and signed allegiance. Then the king called on the congregation to join him in prayer that he might have good assistants in his govern- ment. After they had all prayed, Rottmann produced a list of those whom the Divine will had appointed. Rottmann himself was to be biirgermeister, and Knipperdolling lieu- tenant, the most eminent of the preachers were to be privy councillors. The views of the Anabaptists as to the course of the world were set forth by Rottmann in a treatise. All things, he said, run in triads. The first period of the world ended with the deluge ; in the second, God had called men by Abraham, by the prophets, by Christ. But all was in vain, none would hear ; therefore the wrath of God was about to descend once more, as in the days of Noah, and destroy all the ungodly and bring in the perfect kingdom. The kingdom of the world, the ungodly empire under which they had been living, was already reft and falling to pieces ; a few years more and all its riches would come into the hands of the true be- lievers, among whom Christ would reign for a thousand years. True that sacrifices were needed before the happy day would dawn ; the siege which they were enduring was such a sacrifice. But God would not only deliver them, He would put His sword into the hands of His people that they might cut off all that believed not. And inasmuch as the Old Testament prophets had foretold a uni- versal king, it followed that John of Leyden was the king of the whole earth ; as such Tausendschuer saluted him, and he accepted the title and assumed it in his edicts. Here is a specimen of one : — '• Be it known and proclaimed to all lovers and followers of 'truth and godly righteous- ness, as well as to all who understand not like those who are learned in the hidden things of God. Inasmuch as the Christians and their disciples have gone forth under the banner of righteousness as true Israelites in the new Temple in the present kingdom long foreseen, promised by the mouth of the prophets, begun by Christ and His apostles in the wisdom of the Spirit, and now come in the person of John the Righteous, the pro- mised and incontestable occupant of the throne of David," etc., etc. He wore a gold chain round his neck, on which was suspended agolden globe transfixed with two swords. His uniform was of three colours — green, the symbol of youth, white, of innocence, grey of death to his enemies.* Thrice a week he appeared in crown and gold chain in the market-place, seated him- self on his throne, and administered justice, while Knipperdolling stood one step lower, sword in hand. When he rode through the town, two boys walked beside him, one with an Old Testament, the other with a naked sword. All who met him knelt down. "Had he been a king born," says one writer, "he could not have arranged more ostentatiously, for he was a wondrous manager of pomp and show." To all this ostentation he added debauchery. Besides Divara, who was his queen, he took fifteen wives, and he declared that he would have three hundred. His queen and these young girls he attired magnificently, having seized all the rich vestments from the churches for the purpose. Each of his apos- tles and adherents also had several wives. He considered it necessary to keep his followers in a state of drunkenness, to pre- vent them from foreseeing the catastrophe which hung over them. Knipperdolling was not far behind him in extravagant pretension. Once he caused himself to be suspended over the heads ol the crowd in the market-place that he might breathe the Holy Spirit upon them all. He danced indecent dances before the King, and broke out into horse-play with him. Once *This use of the tricolor as a revolutionary sym- bol is one of many resemblances, pointed out by Ranlspected-The Fate of the Captive Oueen— Progress of the " Terror "—How the Convention earned on the War- Death to the i raitors i ''Woe^o the Cities of th! Vanquished !"-The Republic on the Battle-field-The Fall of the Hebertists-Danton and his Followers ; Their Struggle and their Extinction— The Darkest Period before the Dawn— 1 he 9th of Ihermidor —The End of the Terror and of the Terrorists. virate of the Mountain was triumphant ; but before the day when the famous twenty-two traversed Paris in the fatal tumbrils that went but one way and carried no return passengers, the most ruthless of the three zz Marat and Charlotte Corday. T has been told how on that 31st of May, 1793, when the Girondists were proscribed, the blood-stained trium- 705 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. had been smitten by the hand of sudden vengeance, — a vengeance all the more re- markable in that the squalid, hideous, pitiless miscreant, whom the seething flood of revo- lution had flung up into a high place, whence he dominated and sickened the souls of men, was struck down by the feeble hand of a girl ; even as that Zastern tyrant who, after being an object of terror to the undaunted Romans themselves, had his skull ignomini- ously battered in with the brick flung by the old woman from the wall of Argos. At that time there lived in modest obscurity, almost in poverty, in the town of Caen in Normandy, a granddaughter of the great tragic poet, Pierre Corneille. Her name was Charlotte de Corday d'Armont. Her father was a provincial noble of long descent ; but, as with the majority of the rural noblesse, his means were not proportionate to his rank ; and after the death of his wife, he was glad, being left with five children, to procure admission for Charlotte, the second of his daughters, in the Abbaye aux Dames, a conventual establishment, where she earned a high reputation for piety, and was remark- able for a dreamy, speculative tendency of mind, through which she seemed to live rather in a phantom world of her own, than in the cares and interests of actual daily life. She had returned to her quiet home on the suppression of the convents in 1792, with a soul filled with vague aspirations for the happiness of her country, and a mind con- fused by the turgid philosophy of the period. The story of the persecution endured by the Girondists at the hands of their victorious opponents of the Mountain, had roused a deep indignation in her heart. The pro- scriptions, the arbitrary imprisonments, the horrible September massacres, and the con-, tinual and sinister activity of "that sharp female recently born, and called la Guillo- tine" seemed to her to presage the rapid fall of the country she loved so well. Various of the leading Girondists, who had taken refuge at Caen from the persecution, were moreover her friends. Marat appeared to her as the odious personification of the tyranny that was raging against the best patriots, and the most zealous and honest public servants. And she resolved that the dagger of Har- modius, wielded by a female hand, should pierce the bosom of the tyrant who profaned the name of Liberty. She would sacrifice herself for the good of her country ; and would account her own life well lost if she paid it as the price for the death of the I bloodthirsty tyrant, the ruthless persecutor and common enemy of all. Danton and j Robespierre appeared in her eyes as secondary j personages, unworthy of her vengeance, as ' lot having the power for evil which Marat's > 706 boundless influence over the people gave to that sanguinary persecutor. She determined to proceed to Paris with the means of pro- curing an introduction to Marat ; and for this purpose came several times to the official residence where the Girondist deputies were accustomed to assemble, and to receive those citizens who had business with them. She had two interviews with the young and gallant-looking Barbaroux, to the amusement of Pethion, who, with a smile, expressed his surprise at " the fair aristocrat who came to see the Republicans." The young girl blushed with indignation. "You judge me without knowing me. Citizen Pethion," she replied ; " one day you will know what I am." Under the pretext that she was going to solicit the favour of the Government on behalf of a friend, the daughter of an emigrant, she procured from Barbaroux a letter of intro- duction to Duperret, a Girondist deputy, who had not quitted the capital ; and furnished with this, and with a passport for Argenton, she made her way to Paris. Her aunt seeing her in tears before her departure, asked the cause ; and received the reply, " I weep for the misfortunes of my country, for those of my parents, and for yours ; so long as Marat lives, no one's life will be safe for a single day." As a further proof of the determination with which the young girl's heart was filled, her aunt afterwards spoke to having found an open Bible on Charlotte's bed, after her niece's departure, open at the book of Judith, in the Apocrypha, with the passage under- i| lined that tells how Judith went forth from Ij the city endowed with marvellous beauty which the Lord had given her to deliver Israel. On the nth of July she arrived in Paris. The next day she carried her letter of introduction to Duperret, whom she mys- teriously counselled to quit the Convention of Paris, where he could be of no further service, and to join his colleagues at Caen without loss of time. She purchased a dagger- knife for three francs. After an ineffectual attempt to procure an interview with Marat, she obtained admittance by means of a letter, in which she told him that she brought im- portant news from Caen which it behoved him to learn without delay. The all-powerful leader of the people lived in a state of ostentatious poverty in a shabby and almost unfurnished set of rooms in what was then the Rue des Cordeliers. He was at the time sick of a low fever, but con- tinued to write and harangue against his enemies with ceaseless activity. He received his visitor seated in a long slipper-bath, across which a plank had been laid to serve as a writing-table ; and was at that moment writing a requisition to the Committee of Public Safety for the proscription of the remaining members of the Bourbon family THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. in France. He was covered up to the shoulders in a soiled sheet that left only his head and neck and one of his arms at liberty as he wrote. Squalid Marat questioned his visitor concerning the Girondist deputies who had taken refuge at Caen, and noted dbwn their names as she mentioned them. " Cest bien^'' said Marat ; " within a week they shall all go to the guillotine." The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Charlotte Corday, snatching the dagger from her bosom, plunged it with one sudcTen downward blow into the demagogue's heart. With a single frenzied cry for help, Marat fell back in his bath a dead man. The housekeeper and servant of Marat came running in at the noise, and raised an alarm. At their cries the people of the house came running in, soon followed by a crowd from the street ; and amid an indescribable tumult, Charlotte Corday was secured by a party of soldiers, who could hardly protect her from the fury of the populace, raging to tear her limb from limb, and carried her olf" to the prison of the Abbaye. She replied with perfect calmness to the questions concerning her crime and its motive. " I saw civil war about to tear France," she said ; " convinced that Marat was the principal cause of the perils and calamities of the country, I set the sacrifice of my life against his to save my native land." Pinned to her dress was an address to the French friends of the laws and of peace. When the president of the revolutionary tribunal, Montane, came to interrogate her next day, he was so touched by her youth, beauty, and courage that he made an attempt to save her life by attribut- ing to insanity the crime she had committed; but she gloried in her work and persistently frustrated his efforts. Transported to the Con- ciergerie, she wrote a letter to Barboroux, — a strangely graphic production, describing all the circumstances of her crime and her arrest with a philosophic calmness, as if she were speaking not of herself but of some stranger. I'o her father she also wrote a kindly, affec- tionate letter, asking him to forget her, or rather to rejoice in her fate, and quoting the line of her grandfather, Corneille : "Z^? a-iiiie fait la honte, et non pas PecJiafaiuiP At her trial she maintained the same appear- ance of inliexible determination. "Since when had you formed this design 1 " was one of the questions asked her ; to which she replied, " Since the 31st of May, when the deputies of the people were arrested here. I have killed a man to save a hundred thousand. I was a republican long before the revolu- tion." In the short interval between her condem- nation and the departure of the tumbril for the place of execution, she preserved her serenity unaltered. Her portrait was hastily taken by an artist named Haner, whom she rewarded by cutting off for him with the executioner's scissors a lock of her long hair. She passed to her death as to a triumph, sitting with head erect in the rumbling death- cart, utterly indifferent to the angry shouts and execrations of the populace furious at the loss of the friend of the people." Robespierre and Camille Desmoulins had stationed them- selves on the way to see her pass by. " Such was the end of Marat," says Lamar- tine ; " such was the end of Charlotte Corday. In the presence of murder, History dares not praise; in the presence of heroism. History dares not condemn. The appreciation of such an act places before the mind the terrible alternative to misjudge virtue or to praise assassination." When Vergniaud in his prison heard of Charlotte Corday's crime, condemnation, and death, he said : " She kills us, but she teaches us how to die." The Effects of the Murder of Marat. Robespierre and Danton were not ill pleased to be rid of their formidable colleague, whose influence upon the fiercest of the Jacobins had always been a menace to them. They gladly conciliated public opinion among the " Sansculottes " by decreeing a magnificent pubhc funeral to the dead man, at which the most extravagant and blasphemous panegyrics were pronounced in favour of the dead monster. His heart was deposited in the club of the Cordeliers, where an altar was voted to him. "Precious rehcs of a god !" cried an impassionate orator at the foot of the altar, " shall we be faithless to thy manes ? Thou callst upon us to avenge thee, and thy murderers still breathe!" and pilgrimages and processions were instituted to the tomb of Marat. His name was in every mouth, and young girls dressed in white chanted funeral hymns around the catafalques in funeral processions in his honour in various parts of France. The effect of the murder of Marat was the calling forth of a tremendous vengeance from the Jacobin party. A fury of hatred and suspicion appeared to seize the whole nation ; no man was sure of his life ; for suspicion pointed to the ardent republican as to the aristocrat and the royalist ; the artisan was denounced equally with the ci devaiitj — it was the full development of the Reign of Terror. A great and fatal madness seemed to have seized upon the minds of men; " the time was out of joint ;" and the clang of the sharp blade of the guillotine, ever rising in its groove to descend on the neck of fresh victims, was to set it right. Of the fate of the Girondist deputies in Paris, the twenty-two v/ho were despatched together in the death-carts to the place of 707 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. execution, we have already spoken else- where. The fate of the other chiefs of that faction, the deputies who had taken refuge at Caen, was lamentable in the extreme. They were compelled to fly for their lives, — ■ the bold Barbaroux, Guadet, Salles, Louvet, Valadi, Brizot, Pethion, once the idolized of Paris mobs, and the rest of them. They had to wander as outlaws through the country districts, in the attempt, vain in most cases, to get out of France and await better days elsewhere. They had to pass long days and nights, thirty-three hours at a stretch on one occasion, hidden in marshes, or in the bleak, rain-saturated fields, famishing, faint, tormented, and some of them with the pangs of sickness, and not daring to knock at any man's door and crave the shelter that the lowest beggar might have claimed in right of his hunger and destitution. Some, like Guadet, Salles, and Valadi, were taken and guillotined at Bor- deaux and elsewhere ; Louvet, after "hair- breadth escapes that would fill three roman- ces," contrives to elude spies and pursuers, and to escape into Switzerland. Barbaroux, worn out by months of hardship and con- tinual harassment, at length mistakes an approaching crowd of peasants gathered on a holiday for a horde of Jacobins approach- ing to capture him, and puts an end to his life with a pistol. Stern Roland also, driven to despair when he hears that his heroic wife has been guillotined in Paris, perishes by his own hand. Pethion and Brizot died miserably of famine, their dead bodies being found, gnawed by dogs, in their last place of refuge. The saying of Vergniaud that the Revolution, like the fabled Saturn, was devouring its children, proved itself true. " Cry Havoc, and Let slip the Dogs OF War." The people were exasperated at the loss of their squalid idol Marat ; the general anger was raised to boiling point by the news from the frontier concerning the war. The lines in the Marseillaise, in which the Frenchman is desired to hearken to fierce invading soldiery yelling in his fields, was likely to become dismally significant. For on the 26th of July, the Duke of York succeeded in taking Valenciennes, and quickly proceeded to invest Dunkirk ; at Weissembourg, des- tined in future days to be memorable in a new struggle between Frenchmen and Ger- mans, the Austrians forced the lines of defence, and are actually marching into French territory. If ever France and the Republic were in danger, they are so now ; and no sacrifice must be shunned by good pa- triots to meet the threatened peril. To the Committee of Public Weal (Sabit Public) founded some six months before, unlimited' powers were given, at the proposal of Danton; a larger Committee, that of the Public Safety {Siirete Generale), was at work as its subordi- nate; and the forty-four thousand JacobinClubs throughout France support the victorious faction of the Mountain ; the sectionaries being now paid by law, the sum of foriy sous a day, for their services at the meetings. Then the action of the revolutionary tribunals became more stern, swift, and pitiless than ever; the full violence of the Reign of Terror raged throughout France. Then was passed that " Law of the Suspected," according to which proof was no longer required, but mere suspicion was enough to deprive any man, woman, or child of liberty and life ; for on the mere denunciation of a person as suspected, without any shadow of evidence, he was immediately consigned to prison, which in most cases he only left to pass in swift succession through the stages of judg- ment, condemnation, and execution. The system of government by the party in power is indeed " writ large," that all who run may read,— to bring down swift retribu- tion on the head of every plotter at home, and thus silence every opposing voice in the dumb terror of submission; to oppose the in- vasion from abroad to the last man and the last cartridge; for which purpose a " levy in mass '' is ordered of all the combatant popu- lation. It is publicly declared that France is in danger, and that she has risen against tyrants; and woe to the general who shall now attempt to play the game of Dumouriez, and draw upon himself the wrath of that ter- rible Committee of Public Safety ! Several incur suspicion, among them brave Custine, formerly so successful against his country's enemies, the idol of his soldiers. A Com- missioner appeared in his camp to arrest him, and convey him to Paris for trial. The soldiers murmur, and are inclined to resist any attempt to carry their general away from them; conscious in their hearts, probably, of the utter hopelessness of the acquittal of any prisoner once brought forward for trial. But the Commissioner is a bold, dauntless man, suited for those iron times; he has come for Custine, and Custine he must have. "Wilt thou answer for his innocerice with thy head ? " he demands of a remonstrating sergeant. " If your general is guiltless, he will be set at liberty ; if guilty, he will pay the forfeit — and woe to traitors and con- spirators ! " To Paris accordingly was brave Custine hurried off. At his trial he defended himself with an energy and eloquence rare even in those fiery days ; so completely did he vindicate himself from every charge but that of ill-success, that even before such judges and such a tribunal it was thought an acquittal must follow ; and the prisoner him- self looked confidently for the verdict. It 708 THE K11N2H OF THERMIDOR. was Guilty ; and the sentence the usual one of death, to be inflicted within twenty- four hours ; and Custine, brave soldier though he was, sunk down on his knees, overwhelmed by the sudden surprise, and by the revulsion from hope to despair; remain- ing speechless and motionless tor two hours; then indeed dying with a sufficiency of calm dignity, but with a bitter feeling in his heart of the injustice and ingratitude that requited with the felon's doom such services as he had ren- dered to the Republic. Towns there were also, im- p o r t an t places such as Lyons, Bordeaux, Toulon,and others, in- clined to favour the Girondists, andeventhe Royalists. Against Lyons, Dubois- Cranc^ the Montagard was des- patched with orders to bombard the place, — a command which he carried out with u n- sparing se- verity. After a long and vigorous resistance, and the en- during of all the severest h a r d sh i ps of war, the place surrendered, and the order went forth that the disobedient city was to be razed to the ground, and its very name was to disappear from the Hst of the towns of France. But not even the ruthlessness of a revolutionary government can wipe out of existence such a city as Lyons, and the atten- tion of the Committee was diverted to other objects in the enormous swiftness with which events moved onwards in those weeks of blood and crime. Chaklotte Corday. The Fate of the Captive Queen. With an Austrian army knocking at its gates, and even bursting through the barriers of its frontier land, it was natural that the anger of a people roused to vindictive fury should turn once more to that doleful prison of the Temple, where languished the dis- crowned, widowed Oueen, the " Austrian " whose name had been associated from the first with every burning thought of wrong and vengeance. " Never surely, in an age that boasted of civilization, and in a country where bells hadknolled to church, had a queen been sub- jected to such a fate as had be- fallen the most un- happy daughter of the haugh- tyEmpress- queen Ma- riaTheresa. Surely the vanity of human wishes and the frailty of human greatness had never been more impressive- 1 y i 1 1 u s- trated than in the his- t o r y of Marie An- toinette. Burke, the great orator, in his place in the House of Com- mons, described how in earlier days he had seen her shining like a bright particular star amid all the splendour of the French Court, when it seemed as though a thousand blades would leap from their scabbards to avenge the shghtest insult offered to her. Now she was sitting in a dungeon, a desolate captive, the " Widow Capet," exposed to outrage from the brutality of municipal guards, and the vulgarest of coarse pai ve?m officials. She had seen her husband, whose chivalrous respect 709 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. for " the Queen " was one of the best traits in his amiable though weak nature, torn from her, to be carried off to the scaffold. At dead of night her persecutors had appeared, to drag from her arms her only boy, the unhappy little Dauphin, whom the mockery of fate has chronicled as Louis XVII. in the chronicle of the French Kings, and whose last days of royalty were passed under the tyranny of the brutal cobbler Sin^^jj^ and whom merciful Death at last set free from bodily and mental misery. She had now for consolation in her dreary captivity only the affection of her daughter, the Princess Marie, destined to be the only one among the group of royal captives in the Temple who was to survive those days of horror, and the piety of the excellent Madame Elisabeth, the sister of the dead King, who bore her sufferings with the con- stancy and resignation of a martyr. To any ordinary view, it might appear that the Queen, in the depths of her misfortune, had sunk below the fiery horizon of politics, and might be left unmolested in her wretchedness. But it was declared that there had been plots for her liberation, and on the subject of conspiracy and plotting the French were at that time stark mad. Besides, the exhibition of the ex-Queen, the " Austrian," brought to the bar of the revolutionary tribunal, would be sweet in the eyes of the nation, and an acceptable offering from the Government to the sovereign people, in the Year 3 of the Republic of hberty, equality, fraternity, and death. It would be a living proof that the justice of the incorrup- tible rulers, like Death itself, knocked equally at the doors of kings and peasants. Accord- ingly it was resolved that the " Widow Capet " should be brought to her trial. The parting from her daughter and her sister-in- law was as the bitterness of death to the unhappy Queen. She solemnly embraced and blessed the princess, and commended both her children to the care and affection of Madame Elisabeth, and bade her fellow- captives a last farewell. Then she quietly turned away to accompany the emissaries who had come to convey her to that anti- chamber of death, the Conciergerie. In passing out she struck her forehead violently against the stone above the portal. One of the guards, more humane than the rest, asked if she had hurt herself. She replied that no- thing in the world could hurt her now. The public accuser, Fouquier Tinville, con- ducted the prosecution against her. In general her attitude was that of weary indif- ference, as of one who has to pass through a harassing set of' forms, and wishes the infliction were over. Once only she flashed out in indignant scorn, when she appealed to all the mothers present in the court against a horrible accusation of profligacy brought against her by Fouquier Tinville. She had been immured in a cell in the Conciergerie from the 21st of August, and it was now the middle of October. Those weeks of solitary imprisonment had told upon the captive. She was only thirty-seven years of age, but she looked an old, gray, faded woman. But she met her accusers and the howling crowd who thirsted for her blood with all the dignity of a queen. When accused of having abused the weakness of the King, she quietly replied that she had not considered his character as weak, that she was his wife and had made it her pleasure as it was her duty, to obey him in all things." The genius of Delaroche has portrayed for the world the aspect of the gray, discrowned queen passing along from the court to the prison after her condemnation ; the woeful eyes, dim with much weeping, staring straight out before her, but the haughty mouth still compressed into an expression of ineffable scorn for the howling viragoes who insult her on her way. It was the 15th of October, at four o'clock in the morning, that she was brought from the hall of judgment to the gloomy apartment where the condemned awaited the arrival of the executioner. The last day of her life was dawning ; when she sat down to write a letter full of blessings and thanks to her sister-in-law, a gleam of the queenly pride of her nature flashed up even in these the last words she was to write on earth. She had the greatest abhorrence of the priests who had taken the oath to the republic. "As my actions are not free," she writes, " they will perhaps send me a priest. But I protest here that I shall not say a word to him, and shall treat him as an entirely strange being." After finishing this letter, the Queen slept for a few hours. She then changed the black gown she had worn until then for a white robe. Her cap was white also, but with a black riband, in token of the mourning she wore for her husband. At eleven o'clock the guards and executioners appeared. The Queen herself cut off her hair, and quietly submitted to have her hands bound, and with a firm step walked between the hedges of bayonets towards the portal of the prison, to start on that last dreary death-ride. She recoiled for a moment when she caught sight of the vile tumbril waiting for her ; she had expected at least to be conveyed in a carriage to the scaffold, as her husband had been ; but " equality " was one of the watchwords of the time ; and the terrorists could gain popularity from the fact of making no difference between the Queen of France and the humblest prisoner convicted of conspiring against the Republic one and indivisible. The first part of the death-journey was through one of the lowest quarters of Paris, and the mob had turned out in its thousands, including a large number of the vilest and most degraded women, to scoff and jeer at 710 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. the death-doomed victim, who had once been the proudest of queens. The vilest execration, the most horrible gutter epithets, were show- ered upon the prisoner, whose cheeks were purple with shame, and who seemed anxious to hide her head from the sight of the horrible furies yelling and blaspheming about her. As the tumbril jolted slowly along over the rough stone pavements, the Queen, with her bound hands, tottered, and could with diffi- culty keep her balance. The crowd noticed it, and yelled with delight, shouting, " These are not thy cushions of Trianon ! " But after a time the course lay through a quieter quarter ; the yells ceased, and the Queen could wend to her death with head erect and unquailing courage. As the procession •passed through the Rue St. Honore she was noticed to look fixedly at the upper windows of a house, and then to bov.'^ her head. In an upper chamber of that house a priest of her own religion was concealed, waiting to give her the last blessing as she passed. Unable with her bound hands to make the sign of the cross, she moved her head slowly forward, and from side to side, as a sign of faith. After that the only token of emotion she is said to have given was when the death-cart passed near the entrance of the Tuileries, where she had ruled with such supreme and brilliant sway. A few tears dropped from the heavy eyes as she looked her last at the " theatre of her greatness and of her fall ." Presently the cart stopped at the foot of the scaffold. The Queen mounted to the platform with a hrm, majestic step. Treading inadvertently on the executioner's foot, she asked his pardon as calmly and grandly as she would have addressed a courtier at Versailles. She did not, like the King, address any words to the bystanders from the scaffold. When her lifeless head was shown to the populace, a frantic shout of " Vive la Repiiblique! " arose. Carlyle has described, in one of the most eloquent passages he ever wrote, that terrible ride of the discrowned Queen. " Is there a man's heart," he asks, " that thinks without pity of those long months and years of slow wasting ignominy.'' . . . Look there, O man born of woman ! The bloom on that fair face is wasted, the hair is gray with care ; the brightness of those eyes is quenched, their lids hang drooping ; the face is stony pale, as of one living in death. Mean weeds, which her own hand has mended, attire the Queen of the world. The death hurdle where thou sittest pale and motionless, which only curses environ, has to stop ; a people drunk with vengeance will drink it again in full draught, looking at thee there. Far as the eye reaches a multitudinous sea of m.aniac heads, the air deaf with their triumph-yell. . . . O think not of these ; think of Him whom thou wor- shippest,the Crucified— who, also treading the winepress alone, fronted sorrow still deeper, and triumphed over it, and made it holy, and built of it a ' sanctuary of sorrow ' for thee and all the wretched." Progress of the Terror ; How the ■ Convention carried on the War, The execution of the Queen and the pro- scription and death of the Girondist chiefs, mark an epoch in the downward course of the Revolution. For now there is no sem- blance of pity, no sense of shame, no recoiling before the horrible; allbutone idea seems to be abandoned. Like Shakespeare's guilty thane the Republic had " in blood stepped in so far, returning were as tedious as go o'er." The Law of the Suspected rendered every man's life so utterly insecure, and threw the shadow of the guillotine so gloomily across every hearth, that men went mad with a kind of furious fever, denouncing their neighbours, and sometimes even themselves, in what ap- peared to be mere impulses of mad excitement. To be apparently in the possession of means, and to employ those means in purchasing the luxuries and conveniences of life, was to be at once suspected ; for were not the armies of the nation suffering, marching with never a shoe to their feet, enduring want and hunger and cold in the face of the enemy at the frontier.'' And what was the duty of a good patriot if not to devote his means, his time, and all his energies to the relief and succour of those heroic troops '^. Accordingly, wealth and competence abandoned the use of all superfluities until such time as they should be once more safe, and put down its carriages and lacqueys, — by the way, there were no lacqueys left, but only helps, — and trudged on toot, and put on coarse attire, the carmag- nole and the red cap, and strove thus to tide in safety over the period of peril. For the sharp female '' La Guillotine " is more hungry than ever; and the batches of victims became larger day by day: their passive acquiescence in the present state of things will no longer serve ; there must be active promotion of the Repub- lic one and indivisible ; and as the perils thicken from foreign armies beyond the fron- tier, and surviving Girondist partisans, and worse still, from concealed or open royalist partisans and would-be restorers of the old state of things, when the inhabitants of France were divided into tyrants and slaves, " What hast thou done that thou wouldst be hanged for, if the counter-revolution triumphed ? " has been sternly promulgated by authority as the test by which a true patriot was to be tried. I'he revolution had now reached the stage when her children were her daily food ; and thus not only Madame Roland the Girondist was executed, with many more who had been enthusiastic partizans of liberty and progress, 711 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. but not even the Jacobinism of the Duke of Orleans, Philippe Egalite, could save him in the day when " high-sighted tyranny," as re- presented by the most ruthless form of mob law, "ranged on, and each man fell by lottery." And thus, on the 6th of November, 1793, Orleans, who had voted for the death of his cousin the King, and had outhcroded with the traitor Dumouriez months before,was making his way to Switzerland, there to earn his living as best he might by teaching mathematics, and destined, more than a generation later, to sit on the throne as Louis Phihppe, King of the French, the chief of the most unreal of constitutional monarchies. A very different victim was immolated at Danton going to the Guillotine. Herod in his assumption of republicanism, was obliged to mount those fatal steps, dying with a grim cynical composure, and a shrug of utter disdain for the sovereign people, urging the executioner to despatch, and reminding that functionary, who wished to remove his boots, that they "would come off more ea^/ily afierwards.^^ Meanwhile, his son, the Dake de Chartres, who had fl^d the shrine of St. Guillotine only a few days later, in the person of Bailly, once the Pre- sident of the National Assembly and Mayor of Paris, — illustrious astronomer, moderate politician, and the most honest among the advocates for improvement and reform, but doomed to death, as Carlyle forcibly expresses it, for leaving his astronomy to meedle with revolution. The increasing ferocity and 712 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. utterly pitiless temper of the Paris mob, growing more bloodthirsty day by day, was nowhere more clearly seen than in the cruel circumstances of the execution ofthe innocent old man. They flirted in his face the red flag as they dragged him to execution ; they prolonged his agony through hour after hour of the cold, bleak November day, dragging ing spectator. "Yes, my friend," was the undaunted reply, " but it is with cold ! " And thus, with the heroic courage which was a characteristic of all ranks during that strange period, he died. Another phase of the revolutionary mad- ness was shown in the furious outbreak of anger and contempt against all that had till Charlotte Cokday stabs Marat. him first to the Champ de Mars, and then setting up the guillotine in a distant spot on the borders ofthe Seine, onthe pretext that the place where the altar of Liberty had stood would be desecrated by the death of a traitor. Meekly and submissively the old man bore every indignity, accepting with heroic calm- ness all the ignominy of that dark hour. " You're trembling, Bailly," shouted an insu't- then excited reverence and respect among men, and chiefly a;4'a:nsc religion. The royal- ism ofthe priests had much to do with this. The churches were now desecrated, their treasures plundered, the leaden statues, roof coverings, and decorations carried off to be used for the casting of bullets. The worship of God is considered a delusion, a relic of the priestly tvrannv that has been swept away. EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Henceforth Liberty is to be worshipped, and Reason ; and in the year 1793, accordingly an actress, dressed in a bhie robe, and be- dizened that she may allegorically represent Reason, is paraded about Paris to personify the idea penetrating into the National Conven- tion itself Away, too, with the old reckoning of time, the old calendar, the record of slavery and superstition. The French nation, regenerated by Liberty, should have a new reckoning, the world starting fresh, as it were, from the founding of the Republic one and indivisible, which was to be the year 07ie, — to be to the French what the building of the city was to the Roman, the birth of the Saviour to the Christian, the Megira to the Mahometan, a starting-point from which time should be computed, — Han I. de Republiqiie. And the old division into months and weeks again was to vanish away, the months being superseded by twelve periods of thirty days each, such as Frimaire, the cold or frost time; Ventose, the windy ; Thermido}% the heat time ; Bt'umaire, the foggy; Pliiviose, the rainy time; Fructidor,thQ fruit season, etc., etc.; the five days of the year not provided for by this arrangement being considered as holi- days, with an additional one for leap-year. For the weeks were to be substituted periods of ten days, so as to include exactly three in each of the new months — the tenth day, or Decadi., being kept as a holiday. Thus wild excitement and change at home, a frenzy pervaded by the guillotine, kept up the Reign of Terror ; but abroad there was war and danger and threatening of failure — indeed, reality of failure in some cases, for which the generals of the armies were made, like Custine, to pay with their heads ; and among those who thus perished was a General Beauharnais, who left behind him a widow, Josephine, immured in a Paris prison, who very narrowly escaped the fate of fur- nishing an item in the "supply" provided daily for the guillotine, which represented "with its rapid beat the whole machine of government. Commissioners from the Con- vention and from the terrible Committee of Public Safely were despatched to the armies and to the communities of various towns, with authority of oyer and terminer with a vengeance, — unhmited authority of life and death. These men, formidable in their official plumed hats and tricolored scarves, were sent on missions throughout the country to collect what was necessary for the armies, or to see that it was collected, to stamp out treason, and to take cognisance of all luke- warmness and disaffection. Thus St. Just and Lebon came to Strasbourg to exhort the citizens to do their duty to the army. Ten thousand pairs of shoes were required im- mediately ; let all good citizens strip off their shoes and send them to the army. A thousand beds, too, are required ; let those thousand beds be despatched within twenty-four hours. Good citizens were to spare neither house nor field, life nor limb, in the strife against the enemies of the Republic in the days when it became a crime " to have done nothing to further its interests." Death to Traitors ! Woe to the Cities of the Vanquished ! Toulon, Nantes. The enemies of France, England foremost among them, were vigorously prosecuting the war against the Convention ; receiving much aid and comfort from the disaffection in the country itself, where Girondists and Royalists abounded in certain districts, kept only in partial subjection by the terror and the ever- present guillotine. Toulon had declared against the Republic, and admitted into its harbour a British fleet ; therefore the fiat went forth that Toulon was to be besieged, and swept away from the face of the earth. The duty of besieging the royalist town was entrusted to stern old General Dugommier, a tried veteran, who would not flmch ; and commanding in the Artillery was a taciturn young Corsican, Colonel Bonaparte, shortly destined to do some very notable things, — a young Hannibal, vigilant, frugal, and abste- mious, able, like the great Carthaginian, to do with a little sleep snatched among the soldiers by the watch-fires of the camp. This young Bonaparte it was who suggested to Dugom- mier the plan of capturing the city by con- centrating the attack upon one vulnerable point, the possession of which would place the ships of the English under fire ; which being done, Lord Hood's fleet was fain to sail away out of the harbour, after taking on board such Royalists as chose to withdraw themselves in this fashion from the vengeance .certain to descend on the city so soon as the victors made their entry into its streets. A great and signal triumph for the Republic was the capture of this great arsenal city, with its docks and storehouses and ships of war ; and signal was the vengeance taken by the victors, by means of the guillotine and whole- sale fusillading of prisoners ; but the threat of razing Toulon with the ground could not be carried out. Prominent among the horrors of that wicked frenzied time stands forth the fate of Nantes, the great city in the west. Thither was despatched as a representative. Carrier, exceptionally ruthless even among the emissaries of that merciless government. The proconsul at once commenced holding an assize of blood ; the ordinary process of death by the guillotine was too slow for Carrier and his myrmidons ; some method of more wholesale slaughter must be discovered, and the presence of the glorious river, the I Loire, furnished the means required. Large 714 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. barges were filled with prisoners, who had been condemned to be transported {deporta- tioii). The hatches were secured over the prisoners, and the barges towed out into mid stream. Then holes were broken, from with- out, in the sides of the barges, so that the whole freight sank together, and the '■^noyade," or wholesale drowning, gave a respite to the over- worked guillotine. The ferocious banter of the ruffianly perpetrators designated these wholesale drownings as "vertical transporta- tions." A horrible ingenuity in torture was displayed in the murders done by Carrier and his subordinates. Perhaps the worst was that fiendish device of tying men and women together, and thus launchmg them into the waters of the Loire — republican marriages, these atrocities were called ; while a fusillade of prisoners, with which the day's proceedings closed, was termed, in ferocious jest, " Citizen Carrier's evening prayer." At a later period, when called to account, under a subsequent Government, for these atrocious proceedings, Carrier, who proved a thorough cur, attempted to make out, as indeed might have been the case, that things not sanctioned by himself had been done in his name, and that the reports of what had actually been done were exaggerated ; but abundance of evidence exists to utterly condemn him as a monster in the eyes of mankind. But the main ob- ject was gained. " Royalism is dead," says Carlyle, " sunk, as they say, m the mud of the Loire. Republicanism dominates without and within ;" though not without a fierce and deadly struggle in both cases. The Republic on the Battle-fields. The headings and drownings, the fusillades of Lyons, the wholesale drownings at Nantes, and the horrors enacted everywhere through- out the length and breadth of the country were the shame of the Revolution ; the con- duct of the nation in the fierce war for the existence of the Republic formed its glory. Never had a war been thus carried on. One thing appears certain, as an unchanging truth amid the shifting scenes and changes of that tremendous time, — the determination of the people to maintain the Republic. As aguiding central power, combining into united action the scattered armies that had been bravely but almost hopelessly striving to hold their own against the invaders of the country, towered the military genius of Carnot, regu- lating and arranging, indefatigably urging the generals, by the commissioners despatched to their camps, to "do their duty." Of him it may justly be said, as Addison wrote of Marlborough, that he "inspired repulsed battalions to engage. And taught the doubtful battle where to rage." The levies efi masse had produced a splendid number of soldiers; rough indeed, and probably very imperfect in their drill, and dressed and accoutred in a manner that would have made a Prussian Serjeant's soul to be heavy within him, but full of ardour and zeal, and as hard as the muskets they carried. France was turned into a huge arsenal," — everywhere there was hammering of gunlocks andforging of cannon and manufacturing of gunpowder. With the generals, too, the alternative of victory or death became more than ever a grim reality. Thus Dampierre, the successor of Dumouriez in the army of the Netherlands against the Austrians, had been ordered by the Conven- tion to attack the Austrian army that lay between Maubeuge and Saint Amand. The task was simply a hopeless one, as Dampierre knew well ; but there was nothing for it but to obey. After being driven back five times with great slaughter, the general was seen by his son, who acted as his aide-de-camp, to place himself on horseback at the head of a few picked men, to advance against a redoubt. The young man ventured to remonstrate against the father's thus sacrificing himself, declaring that death would be here equally certain and useless. "I know that, my friend," answered the old general, " but I would rather die on the field of honour than under the axe of the guillotine." A few moments later he was lying, mortally wounded by a cannon ball, upon a heap of slain. Everywhere the gaunt, hungry, ragged, indomitable battalions of the French hurled back the-enemy across the frontier; in many cases pursuing them hotly, and pouring on- ward in a resistless tide. Thus brave Du- gommier, of Toulon celebrity, carried the war into Spain, and there perished gloriously, after gaining such successes as assui'ed the French from molestation from that quarter for a long time. In these wonderful armies, too, Serjeants who proved themselves pos- sessed of extraordinary talent, developed in a rapid and bewildering way into generals; such as Serjeant Hoche, who became the leader of an army, and did some remarkable things on the Rhine and elsewhere ; Serjeant Pichegru, once a teacher of Mathematics in the military school of Brienne, where one Napoleon Bonaparte had been his pupil, and who now showed how mathematics .could be appHed to war; Serjeant Bernadotte, destined before his career was ended to be a king ; Serjeant Junot, who had attracted the approv- ing notice of the Artillery officer Bonaparte before Toulon ; and various others. France was also fortunate in her opponents, who, with the exception of England, were but half hearted in the cause. Austria and Prussia watched each other with mutual jealousy. Russia and ^Sweden were not disposed to take any very active measures. And thus against the fiery energy and un- ceasing activity of Carnot was set a dilatori- 715 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. ness that was of infinite service to him. The new tactics, moreover, fairly bewildered the commanders of the old school, whose hesitation gave just the respite required by the new levies of the French to learn the rudiments of an art quickly acquired by a military people. Thoroughly roused, the French marched forth, with the motto, " The French people risen against tyrants " on their banner. " From the central Carnot in Sahtt Public to the outmost drummer on the frontiers," says Carlyle, " men strove for their Republic. . . . Majesty of Prussia, as Majesty of Spain, will by-and-by acknowledge his sins and the Republic ; and make a peace of Bale." Presently there comes news to Paris which causes much shouting and jubilation. " The army of the north does not cease to merit well of its country," runs the despatch. A great victory has been gained. The German general, Walmoden, is utterly discomfited, and the Duke of York, son of George the Third, has been obliged to raise the siege of Dunkirk suddenly, after losing many valuable lives, and burning much expensive powder. About which time also, M. le Marquis, who is now to be met in Newgate Street, with a rough deal on his shoulder, adze and jack- plane under arm, — he has taken to the ioiner trade, it being necessary to live, — begins "to have an idea that this pestilent revolution will take more trouble to put down, and may n its desperate effrontery last longer than he had at first supposed, and that in some way the results of the coalition are not altogether satisfactory ; and that it may even be necessary for Madame la Marquise to turn that exquisite taste she is acknowledged to possess in matters of dress to a means of living by becoming a modest e, which, as Mr. Samuel Pepys says of his various embarrass- ments, " does trouble him in his mind." For through all his bewilderment he sees, that be the frenzy in France never so wild the RepubUc is growing stronger day by day. The Fall of the Hebertists. And now, in the tremendous frenzy that had seized upon the minds of men, impelling them forward in the headlong, rushing flood of revolution, as if carried along by a mighty tide, without any volition of their own, or even the power to guide their course, as the waters bore them onward, the Convention itself, now that the opposition of the Gironde had been overcome with such blood-stained triumph, was a scene of suspicion and dis- trust, even in the dominant Mountain itself, which was split up into factions, which quickly became so hostile that they were ready to tear one another to pieces. Among these factions there were three chief divisions. First and foremost, most noisy and blatant of all, shrieking defiance, and breathing out threatenings and slaughters against all who were not "thorough," to the extent of wishing, like Nero, that their enemies had but one neck, and might therefore be exterminated at a blow, stood the Madmen's faction, the Enrages, supported by the frantic Cordelier club, with its tremendous influence over the mob of Paris and its ramifications through- out the country. The leaders of this party were Hebert, Momoro, Anacharsis Clootz, and Ronsin Chaumette, the chief promoter of the infamous Law of the Suspected, and others ; followed by a gang ready to go to any length in hanging, shooting, and drowning, identifying the successful march of the Revolution with the activity of the guillotine, and urged on by Hubert, their chief, to ever wilder deeds of violence ; bent on intensifying the Terror, and mainly desirous that more and more heads might fall every day, as a sweet sacrifice to the genius of Liberty. Thus, in his infamous paper, the Pere Duchesne, and in frantic speeches spoken in the Cordelier club, Hebert poured forth a fiery flood of rabid denunciation, declaring that he had "held his tongue and his heart these two months at sight of Moderates, Crypto Aristocrats, Canvilles, Scelerats in the Convention itself, but could not do it any longer ; would, if remedy were not, invoke the sacred right of Insurrection." Opposed to these stood the faction of Danton and Camille Desmoulins, men who could hardly be accused of lukewarmness in the cause of the Revolution, as evidenced by their action on the loth of August and the days of Sep- teinber, 1793, but who began to grow weary of bloodshed and horror. Between the two stood Robespierre the incorruptible, with his sinister face and sea-green complexion, his indomitable perseverance and enormous am- bition, distrusting both alike, and cherishing his own wild scheme of building up a regene- rate republic when all opposition should have been quelled, and the hostile factions should have been compelled to submit to him. Among his chief supporters was St. Just. Suddenly, on the 15th of March, a blow was struck by Robespierre which made the ears of even the most advanced revolutionists to tingle. Hebert and his chief associates were arrested and thrown into the prison of the Luxembourg, their arrival there being bailed with jeering surprise and delight by numerous denizens of that abode of woe, whom they had sent thither, and whom they were thus at a moment's notice sent to join. The accusation against them was that they were concealed traitors, who by their actions were playing into the hands of the enemies of the Republic, especially of the English Minister 16 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. Pitt, "the enemy of the human race," by making the Government odious, and discrediting the Revolution itself by their crimes ; that their plundering of the churches, their worship of the Goddess of Reason, and other similar proceedings, had had this end in view, whereat tlie Cordelier club stood aghast with sudden dismay. According to the fashion of those vendors, the "grand choler of the Pere Duchesne." And thus had the Revolution devoured another company of its children, for no less than nineteen Hebertists made the fatal journey on the 24th of March, 1794. As Carlyle wisely observes, in writing of these tilings, "All anarchy is not only de- structive, but self-destructive." ROBESMERRE IN THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. headlong times, judgment quickly followed arrest; and within a few days Hebert and his associates mounted the steps of the guillotine; the mob, thirsty for blood, and caring little who were the victims so long as the daily spectacle of murder was exhibited, surrounded the death-carts gleefully as the Enrages went to their doom, and jeeringly calling out, after the manner of newspaper Danton and his Followers ; Their Struggle and their Extinction. The blow that had fallen upon Hubert and his faction was so tremendous, so un- expected, and so rapid,— only nine days intervening between the arrest of the chiefs of the Madmen's faction and their execution, — that a general panic was spread throughout 717 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. the capital. Men began to look on one another in blank dismay, ready to ask, with Mark Antony in Shakespeai-e's play, " Who next must be let blood, who else is rank ? " Whom would Robespierre the incorruptible think it necessary to sacrifice next for the safety of the Republic ? One thing appeared clear to many who watched the signs of those troublous days with a sagacity sharpened by the sense of their own peril, namely, that there was not room for Robespierre and Danton in the same Government ; and that the natural antagonism between the great, loud-voiced, fiery revolutionist, the man of action, advo- cating audacity and the bold confronting of peril, the man of the Revolution, and the " poor, spasmodic, incorruptible pedant, with' a logic formula instead of a heart, the "wind- bag" of the Revolution, could not continue. But bound as Robespierre was to Danton, who had been long his friend, and frequently his defender, it seemed impossible that in- gratitude should go so far as to make him compass his colleague's ruin. Moreover, Danton had been such a towering figure during the whole period of storm and stress, had been so identified with popular struggles and popular triumphs, that it seemed as though policy, if no higher feeling, would induce the Incorruptible to remain on good terms with such a man ; and so thought Danton himself. For his own part, he was wearied and dis- gusted by the brawling in the Convention and the ruthless system of legahsed murder and massacre. He had, moreover, married a young wife; and withdrawing himself for a time from public affairs, was enjoying what domestichappiness and rest could be snatched at such a time in his native place, Arcis, from whence he was summoned in hot haste by his friends, Camille Desmoulins, Philip- peaux, and others of their faction, who under- stood the full significance of late events, and saw that in the presence of a man who could annihilate Hubert and his faction, no man was safe. Accordingly Danton raised the voice of remonstrance in the Convention against the indiscriminate course of proceedmg lately adopted, declaring that while the enemies of theRepublicought to be punished, the innocent should not be confounded with the guilty. With unparalleled shamelessness, Robespierre declared there was no proof that a single innocent person had perished. "What do you think of that, Fabricius.^" exclaimed Danton, with grim irony, to one of his friends. A hollow reconciliation, patched up for the moment between him and Robespierre, re- tarded the course of events only for a few days. Several of his friends, seeing what was impending, urged him to fly ; his wife added her solicitation to theirs : but the giant was not to be moved. Even when told by one who had the best sources of information that the warrant for his arrest had been made out, he only replied : " They would not dai'e ; " and retired to bed as usual, to be aroused at midnight by functionaries who carried him off to prison. Thus, again, the gloomy Luxembourg gaol receives a strange group of captives, to occupy the places so lately vacated by He- bert and his ruffianly gang. Even in the Convention some feeble efforts are made fur Danton, Legendre proposing that he should be heard at the bar, as a preliminary to, perhaps a substitute for, indictment ; but Robespierre would not allow it. Danton must submit to the usual mode of procedure. With the " Incorruptible," no distinction can be made between persons. The great Re- volutionist himself seems to have been be- wildered with the suddenness of the fate that had fallen upon him ; and declared in the prison that everything would be left in a horrible confusion, for that not one of the men then dominant knew anything about government : prophetically also he asserted that in his fall he should drag down Robes- pierre. " Better to be a poor fisherman than to meddle in the government of men," he bitterly exclaimed. Before his judges he bore himself with proud, disdainful resolution ; answered to the formal question respecting his name, that it was Danton, tolerably well known in the Revolution ; indignantly de- nounced the indictment against him, which accused him of having hung back on the loth of August, as a mass of lies ; protested against being ranked with peculators and cheats ; covered the supporters of Robespierre with withering scorn, and raised such a feel- ing in his favour that he stood a good chance of triumphant acquittal ; which consummation was only prevented by a law passed in hot haste by the Committee of Public Safety, decreeing that whoever insulted justice should have his mouth closed, and declaring that Danton and his colleagues stood in that pre- dicament. For Camille Desmoulins there was less chance. He had in his newspaper, the Vieux Cordeliers, denounced with pungent wit and burning satire the bloodthirsty absurdities of those new Cordeliers, Hebert and the rest, who had done their best to make Paris a shambles, and to spread mas- sacre throughout France. The power of Robespierre reduced all remonstrance and all compunction for the time to terrified silence ; and the sentence of death was passed upon Danton, Camille, Herault de Sdchelles, and the rest, to be carried out that same day. Danton preserved his undaunted bearing and his fierce scorn to the last. " Never mind that vile rabble," he said in the death-cart 718 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. to Camille Desmoulins, who was disturbed by the shouts of the howhng mob. " Show my head to the people," was his injunction to Lamson the executioner, " Elle est vaut la peine!"— ''li's worth the trouble:" a great, bold, fiery man, indomitable, ostenta- tious, devoted to the cause of liberty, whose triumph he fancied himself strong enough to ensure : blackened by crimes, and with much to answer for, but sincere and thorough- going, and not without warm affections. " He saved France from Brunswick," says the great historian of the Revolution ; " he walked straight his own wild road, whither it led him." That the invasion which set out to crush the Revolution and restore feudal slavery in France was ignominiously beatea back, and that Frenchmen did not continue through successive generations to be serfs, " Taillable et corveable a tnerci" as the old law form expressed it, taxable and burdenable, at the mercy of the privileged classes, is due in a great measure to the in- domitable resolution of the farmer's son of Arcis-sur-Aube. The Darkest Period before the Dawn. And now all cringed and cowered before the sea-green man, beloved of the Jacobin club and the howling mob, the idol of the hour, Maximilian Robespierre, President of the Convention, dominating France for the hour from that bad eminence. " He that stands upon a shppery place makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up," says subtle Pan- dulph in Shakespeare's King JoJui. "The vile hold" of Robespierre was in the Jacobin faction; but it was at best a "slippery place" upon which he stood, for he had wit enough to see the necessity of steering clear of the mere atheistical anarchy of Hebertism on the one hand, and of avoiding the imputation of moderatism, which would have lost him his Jacobin following, on the other. Conse- quently two things must be done at the same time. The batches of prisoners for the guillotine must be regularly supplied day by clay, for the Sansculottes hungered for their daily feast of blood ; on the other hand, something must be substituted for the atheism pure and simple, the deadly poison of the " Goddess of Reason " worship, whose mad mummery had been lately enacted. Accordingly, the tumbrils were kept well filled, and made their dreary journey every day, except the Decadi, to the scaffold. In those last months of the Reign of Terror, men scarcely turned their heads to mark who were the occupants. The most illustrious, the high born and the beautiful, sat side by side with the poorest and the most degraded in those leveUing vehicles, — the young and the old,— decrepit old people, long past three score and ten, wended along the same dark road with young girls and children,— the King's sister, Madame Elisabeth, almost un- noticed, went to her death, — and Lavoisier, the man of science, and poor old Monsieur de Gombreuil, once saved by the devotion of his daughter from the September massacres, — and brave old Malesherbes, who had defended the King on his trial, and the wives of Danton and Camille Desmoulins, — for the guillotine is omnivorous, and devours all with a horrible impartiality. The official lists for Paris give the following numbers of persons guillotined in Paris in each month of 1794, up to the end of July, when the Terror ceased :— January, 83 ; February, 75 ; March (including Hubert and his accomplices), 123; April, 263; May, 324; June, 672; and July, 835. On some days forty, fifty, even sixty victims were executed. When Tonquier Tinville, the Pub- lic Prosecutor, was at a loss for a pretext for new arrests, the magic word " conspiracy " always sufficed to procure the requisite num- ber of convictions. The very name of a plot was enough to ensure the verdict of guilty from the juries ; and thus, in many cases, persons who had never met in their lives were accused of conspiring together. A few among the convictions will show the various causes which brought men, women, and chil- dren to the scaffold during the Terror. On June 23rd, 1794, were executed together twenty-two women of the poorer class, for having in various ways forwarded the designs of the fanatics, aristocrats, priests, and the other agents of England. On the 6th of Sep- tember, a journeyman tailor, Jean Baptiste Henry, a lad eighteen years old, was executed for sawing down a tree of liberty. Further convictions, followed by execution, are those of— Bernard Augustus d'Absac, aged 17, ex- noble, late Captain in the nth Regiment, and formerly in the sea service, convicted of having betrayed several towns and several ships into the hands of the enemy; Henrietta Frances de Marboeuf, aged 55, widow of the ci-devant Marquis de Marboeuf, residing at No. 47, Rue St. Honore, in Paris, convicted of having hoped for the arrival of the Austrians and Prussians, and of keeping provisions for them ; Jacques de Beaume, a Dutch mer- chant, convicted of being the author and accomplice of a plot, which existed in the month of June 1790, tending to encourage our external and internal enemies, by nego- tiating, by way of loan, certain bonds of ^100 each, bearing interest at 5 per cent, of George, Prince of Wales, Frederick, Duke of York, and William Henry, Duke of Clarence; James Duchesne, aged 60, for- merly a servant, since a broker ; John Sau- vage, aged 34, gunsmith ; Frances Loizelier, aged 47, milliner ; Melanie Cunosse, aged 21, milliner; Mary Magdalen ViroUe, aged 19 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. 25, female hairdresser, convicted of having-, in the city of Paris, where they resided, tittered criesj Genevieve Gonvon. aged seve7ity-seve?i, sempstress, convicted of having been the author or accomphce of several conspiracies formed since the beginning of the Revolution by the enemies of the people and of liberty, tending to create civil war, to paralyse the public, and to annihilate the existing govern- ment ; Francis Bertrand, aged ^j, tinman and publican at Leure, in the Department of the Cote d' Or, convicted of having furnished to the defenders of the country some wine injurious to the health of citizens; Mary Angelica Plaisant, sempstress, at Donai, con- victed of having exclaimed that she was an aristocrat, and cried, " A fig for the nation." These are samples of the various offences that brought men and women to the guillo- tine in the Reign of Terror. The 9TH of Thermidor ; The End of the Terror and of the Terrorists. But Paris began to tire of all this blood- shed ; and very significant tokens appeared of disgust and displeasure at the daily passage of the death-carls through the streets. The guillotine itself was removed from its origi- nal place in the Place du Caroussel, had thence been shifted to the Place Louis XV. at the time of the King's execution, where it had executed 1256 persons, and was now re- moved to the other end of Paris, near the ruins of the Bastille ; for the householders in the streets through which the death- carts passed daily, complained that the ghastly spectacle drove people away ; and showed their sense of the proceeding by shutting up their shops. For six weeks the guillotine was accordingly at work— in very full work — near the site of the Bastille, and during that time it disposed of no fewer than 1403 persons ; for the Terror raged most furiously during the last days of its existence. I3ut at last the hour of deliverance was to come. Robespierre, who had made a bid for popularity by instituting a grand Revolu- tionary allegiance feast on the 8th of June, at which he, as a kind of high priest, publicly put a torch to two figures of canvas and wood representing Atheism and Discord, and a figure was made to rise by machinery from beneath a platform, representing Wisdom. But people were beginning to laugh grimly at the farce, and Robespierre himself was secretly jeered at for having listened to, and it is said been influenced by, the ravings of Catherine Theot, a mad old woman of the Joanna Southcote type. Moreover, among the five thousand prisoners in the twelve houses of arrest in Paris, there was a certain female of great beauty, named Cabarus, well beloved of Deputy Tallier, who exhorted her friend to make an effort to save her life. More significant than all, accident brought to the knowledge of those whom it most con- cerned a list of many names of members of the Convention who were to follow Hubert and Danton on the dark journey. There was no time to be lost. A great conspiracy was organized in the Convention itself for put- ting down the tyrant and his party. Robes- pierre, ind.gnant and astonished at the sudden accusation of tyranny brought against him, attempted in vain, on the 9th of Thermidor, to obtain a hearing. He was shouted down ; and v/hen at last his voice failed him, was told it was the blood of Danton that suffocated him. He was de- clared accused, but still hoped for rescue from the mob and from Henriot, the commandant of the municipal guards. But the drunken Henriot deceived him, and bungled the busi- ness of rescue. In the excitement of the scene he received a pistol shot in the face, or, as some accounts report, he shot himself. The wound, however, was not mortal ; it broke his jaw, and in this state he was con- veyed to tne Convention. This was on 9th. Next day, the loth of Thermidor, the 28th of July, Robespierre and his accomplices travelled in the fatal tumbril to the guillo- tine, which had in the previous night been brought back to its old position in the Place Louis XV. ; and as the heads of the blood- thirsty chiefs fell beneath the fatal knife, men breathed more freely, and saw that the Reign of Terror had finished. 720 HOLYROOD PALACE, RIZZIO AND DARNLEY THE STORY OF A DARK REVENGE. ' I was the queen o' bonnie France, Where happy I ha'e been ; Fu' lightly rose I in the morn. As blithe lay down at e'en : And I'm the sovereign of Scotland, And mony a traitor there. — BuRNSt Return of Queen Mary from France— Weakness of the Scottish Sovereigns— Her First Mass— Sketch of Darnley's Earlv J<'^® ""ll f^^'^^f-rP^ ^'^'^^ Jlf Hand at Wemyss Castle-Unpopularity of the Marriage-Flight of Murray and Other Nobles -The Career and Cha.racter of Rizzio— The Parties engaged in Plotting— The Judas Kiss— Murder of Rizzio— After the Murder— Darnley s Betrayal of the Bond— A Strange Supper and Talk— Midnight Flight of the Royal Couple -Darnley's Brutality— Queen's Contempt for Him— Rise of Bothwell— Some of His Adventures- Mary's Visit to the Hermitage— Getting Rid of Darnley— The Croaking of the Raven— Darnley's Murder— The Queen's Complicity— Bothwell's Sham Acquittal and Marriage with the Queen— His Flight from Scotland and Death in Draxholm Castle. — His Fate. Queen Mary's Return to Scotland. HE marriage of Mary, Queen of Scots, to the Dauphin — the Dolphin of old Scottish writing's — was celebrated with great splendour in France in the spring of 1558 ; in the summer of the following year, her husband ascended the French throne; and in December 1560, at the age of eighteen, she became a widow, and was perhaps the most fascinating woman in Europe. The career before her, however, was of a very different nature from that in which she had hitherto moved. The fair claimant of three crowns — France, Scotland, and England — was now reduced to the miserable heritage of her paternal ancestors among a poor and rude people, whose most potent leaders were here- tics, and had fought boldly and successfully against her Catholic mother and the French soldiers. The schooling she had received at the French Court was the worst possible for the government of such a country. Patriotism she could not be expected to have ; indeed, at the time of her marriage she had signed away the thistle of Scotland to be a mere fief and appendage of the French lilies. She had learned from her mother's friends, the Guises, to look upon herself as a champion of the old 721 AAA EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. faith, while the country of her fathers was a hot-bed of heresy. Her relation to the chief men of Scotland may be understood from the fact that her half-brother, the Earl of Moray, had received the censure of herself and her husband in 15 59 for his ingratitude, while her outspoken uncle, the Duke of Guise, had thought the best way to "amend the garboils " was to apprehend and put to death the Earl of Argyll and the " Bastard of Scotland." The spiritual governor of the country was John Knox, with a Genevan creed and a saturnine soul as hard as steel ; and there was at least a score of warlike and high-mettled chiefs, each filled with an unscrupulous passion for his own aggrandisement. The sovereign was actually weaker than any one of them. There was no permanent royal guard, while each of these feudal lords had a little army of dependents at his own beck. Such was the condition of the country, such were the fierce fires she was thrown into after her husband's death. The story of her voyage to Scotland, sorrowful like her coming destiny, has been gracefully expressed in a well-known poem by the late Mr. Glassford Bell. ''It was a barque that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the hght of evening lay ; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast-receding hills that dim and distant rise. No marvel that the lady wept — there was no land on earth She loved like that dear land, although she owed it not her birth : It was her mother's land ; the land of childhood and of friends ; It was the land where she had found for all her griefs amends ; The land where her dead husband slept ; the land where she had known The tranquil convent's hushed repose, and the splen- dours of a throne : No marvel that the lady wept, it was the land of France, The chosen home of chivalry, the garden of romance ! The past was bright, like those dear hills so far behind her barque ; The future, like the gathering night, was ominous and dark ! — One gaze again — one long, last gaze ; ' Adieu, fair France, to thee ! ' The breeze comes forth — she is alone en the uncon- scious sea ! " Her First Mass in Scotland. As our purpose is to confine ourselves, so far as is consistent with clearness of exposition, to the story of the Rizzio and Darnley tragedies, the early period of Mary's residence in Scot- land must be passed over very briefly. The aspect of nature at the time of her arrival, with two galleys, in Leith harbour, on the morning of Tuesday, the 19th of August, 1561, seemed to forbode an evil destiny. " The very face of heaven," said the great Scottish reformer, who was not altogether devoid of superstition, "the time of her arrival, did manifestly speak what comfort was brought unto this country with her ; to wit, sorrow, dolour, darkness, and all impiety ; for in the memory of man, that day of the year, was never seen a more dolorous face of the heaven than was at her arrival, which two days after did so continue ; for besides the surface wet and corruption of the air, the mist was so thick and so dark that scarce might any man espy another the length of two pair of butts." The religious trouble asserted itself very emphatically on the first Sunday after her arrival in the country. As a faithful Catholic, she had " that idol the Mass"- — to use the words of Knox — celebrated in the royal chapel. Cries were raised by the stern Master of Lindsay and other gentlemen that "the idolater priest should die the death" according to God's law ; a priest who carried in the candle was attacked, and only reached his chamber through the protection of the Earl of Moray and his brother. In the after- noon, immense crowds ot furious citizens flocked towards the Abbey of Holyrood, the scene of the disturbance. On the following day, a proclamation was issued by the Privy Council, stating that Her Majesty would not interfere with the religion of the country as it had been established before her arrival, and commanding all the lieges that none of them, under pain of death, should molest or deride her domestics or the French strangers who had accompanied her. A singular scene took place when this sensible edict was pro- claimed at the Edinburgh market-cross. In presence of the heralds and people, the Earl of Arran, the most powerful of the Scottish nobles, entered a protest against it, quoting the words of Scripture that " the idolater shall die the death." No wonder, as Knox puts it in his History, " this baldness did some- what exasperate the Queen." Darnley's Character and Courtship. Here we shall not go into details of the m.any proposals of marriage that were at various times on the carpet for the handsome, subtle, and brilliant young widow, Spain, France, Denmark each supplying one or more candidates. Of course the interest and policy of Queen Elizabeth were decidedly averse from any marital alliance of her sister of Scotland with any strong Catholic prince, as the existence of English Protestantism, as well as that of Scotland, would be seriously imperilled. The Queen of England, with an insolence at which Mary was startled into righteous womanly indignation, actually suggested her own favourite subject, the Earl of Leicester, as a husband for the dazzhng widow of a French monarch ; but the person whose hand Mary Stuart was ultimately des- RIZZIO AND DARNLEY. tined to accept was her own boyish relative, Henry Stuart, son of the Earl of Lennox, but better known to history by his courtesy title of Lord Darnley. He stood in a very close kinship to the wearers of both the crowns of England and Scotland. He first saw the light on the 7th of December, 1545, so that he was three years younger than Mary. His mother was Lady Margaret Douglas, daughter of that Margaret Tudor who was the sister of King Henry VHI. and the wife and widow of King James IV. of Scotland. In very early years he had acquired some pleasant superficial accomplishments ; he had learned to play upon the lute and dance, and, curious to say, his priestly tutor, like that of the Maiden Queen, had taught him the secret of fine penmanship. In childhood this English boy gave sorr»e signs of turning out " a witty, virtuous, and an active, well-learned gentle- man ; " he was precocious enough to have penned a treatise, under the name of Utopia Nova, in his ninth year, although it is to be feared that his production — gone, alas! into Time's big waste-basket — would never rival the work of the wise and witty Sir Thomas More ; he has even been credited with poetical aspiration, and with having composed a ballad to his mistress's eye-brow. It is a common error to suppose that Mary and he were totally unacquainted until within a few weeks before she married him. It was not quite a sudden love-match. When a beardless boy of fourteen, he appeared at the French Court shortly after the coronation of Francis II., Queen Mary's first husband. The young couple gave him a warm welcome at Chambord, where they kept their Christmas festival, and they sent him home with a goodly gift of a thousand crowns, not at all a bad present for the son of an earl in reduced circumstances. He carried letters of condolence from his mother to Queen Mary after the French King's death in December 1560. Even before the Queen's return to Scotland, .the Countess of Lennox had mooted the subject of their marriage ; and immediately after she reached the mist- veiled shores of Scotland, Darnley's tutor was despatched to her by the Countess with a direct proposal. Although the young widow of the King of France aimed at something infinitely higher than the hand of the boy she had patronised at Chambord as a poor relative, the probability of their marriage was a current rumour up till the time when, in the early days of 1565, he obtained license from Queen Elizabeth to join his father in Scotland. He was admitted to kiss the hand of Mary in the splendid, cliff-perched fortalice of Wemyss Castle on the north side of the Firth of Forth, on the 1 6th of February. The Queen's visit is still commemorated by a carved likeness of her head upon the ancient mansion. " Her M^'esty," says Sir James Melville, "took very well with him, and said that he was the pro- perest and best-proportioned long man that ever she had seen ; for he was of a high stature, long and small, even and straight." The Queen, however, had bigger game in view, and refused the ring he offered. He had an active and useful friend in an Italian well- known to fame, whose terrible fate was to be closely linked by-and-by with the name of Darnley. This person was David Rizzio, familiarly styled Davie by his Scottish con- temporaries. She " took ay the better liking to Darnley and at length determined to marry him." He was the very opposite in appearance to Bothwell, her third husband. The latter was ugly, it is said, with something of an ape's face. The beardless son of Lennox, on the other hand, had a lady's features. It was to no purpose that her uncle, the Cardinal of Lorraine, warned her against the foolish alliance. It was to no purpose that Queen Elizabeth grumbled at the theft of a subject from England, and pretended to be extremely angry. Within a month from the time the young heir of the ancient and royal house of Lennox kissed her hand in Wemyss Castle, on the Fifeshire coast, Mary had informed Elizabeth of her intention. He was made a knight ; lands and honours were showered on him. The title of Duke of Albany was the; big plum reserved to grace the bridal ceremony. The young couple — he in his twentieth, she in her twenty-third, year — were married, ac- cording to the rites of the Romish Church, on the 29th of July, 1565, in Holyrood Chapel, with great pomp,' and in the presence of many of the nobles. The Queen, says Knox's History, was all clothed in mourning, according to the French custom. " During the space of three or four days, there was nothing but balling and dancing and ban- queting." The marriage was unpopular in Scotland, for Darnley was a Catholic — though a very bad one, and even went to the Reformed service in St. Giles's Church, so as to gain the favour of the strong Protestant party, although the caustic words of Knox galled him severely when that preacher alluded con- temptuously to " boys and women " being placed by God at the head of the State to plague and scourge the people for their offences and ingratitude. At the same time the rude insolence of the boy towards the nobles — shown, for instance, before marriage, when he struck at Ruthven with a dagger because that lord had brought him unpleasant news — acted against him. Moray (the Queen's half-brother) and some others rose in arms ; but, to quote the language of the late Earl of Crawford, "after dodging up and down the country in such a manner that the insurrection 723 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. was ever afterwards called in derision the Runabout Raid, they were obliged to disband their forces and retreat into England." Darn- ley's head was simply turned by his elevation. The Queen had promised in a rash moment, before the discovery of his weakness, that he should have the crown-matrimonial ; in other words, that, issue faihng by the Oueen, Darn- ley's children by any subsequent marriage should have a right to the throne. He kept up incessant jars with her about the non- fulfilment of this promise. It soon became known that he was vicious and a drunkard. The gentle expostulation of Mary at a bur- gess's house in Edinburgh, where he was imbibing freely, led to a scene, and the Queen left the place in tears. " It is greatly to be feared," wrote the English ambassador weeks before the marriage, " that he can have no long life amongst this people." The Rise of David Rizzio. When the Savoy ambassador came to Scotland in December 165 1, to congratulate the charming young widow on her return to her native land, there was in his suite a young Piedmontese named David Rizzio, then about twenty-seven years of age. Doubtless the musician's son hoped to push his fortune in that far-off country. A picture of him in 1564 shows him playing on an instrument. He was dark of complexion and had a low forehead, was full-eyed, with just a trifle of mustachio and beard. The face is of a low-cast Semitic type. We have seen the identical fellow of him turning a hand-organ for coppers in the streets of London. That such a mere "minion of fortune" should be chosen by Mary to chase away the loneliness of her midnight hours over a pack of cards or with a harp, to con- duct her foreign intrigues against the Protes- tants, almost goes to hint at a stratum of bad taste in her nature, or perhaps a blundering lack of perception. He had skill in music, and was acquainted with several European tongues, so that he at once found favour in the eyes of the handsome Queen. Immediately after his arrival at the Court he was appointed tobe a"chalmer-cheild,"or valet-de-chambre, at a yearly salary of threescore fifteen pounds. When he landed, his pockets would seem to have been rather empty, as a sum of fifty pounds, or two-thirds of his first year's salary, was advanced to him at the beginning of January. A single box of modest dimensions was sufficient to contain his whole worldly goods. His salary rose to eighty pounds in 1564. In December of that year, when Raulet went abroad on an embassay, Rizzio stepped mto that person's place as French Secretary. From that time royal gifts of dress, furniture, and funds were lavished by the Scottish Lamia on her favourite and confidant, and his power, pomp, and pride soon swelled into full blossom. He helped on the marriage with Darnley — partly, perhaps, from a selfish eagerness to cater to Mary's silly taste for the handsome, overgrown boy ; partly, perhaps, from the thought that her Catholic policy would be furthered by the selection of a facile, Popish husband. He and young Darnley were almost " chums," and he was entrusted by the royal couple with the entire riianage- ment of their household. He began to treat the nobles scornfully, and it was feared by them that his influence with Mary was great enough to persuade her to proceed in the ap- proaching parliament against Moray and the other exiled lords. His stud was the envy of the nobilit}\ "Great men made in court unto him, and their suits were the better heard." His equipage and train surpassed the King's. He sat near the Queen at public banquets, — "sometimes more privately," it was hinted, "than became a man of his condition." The child yet unborn was already branded as the fruit of their intrigue ; and it was from this suspicion that the taunt arose in later years that King James was called the Scottish Solomon because he was the son of David who played upon the harp. Mary found excuse in the ceaseless debaucheries of Darn- ley for having a duplicate of his seal made and placing it in Rizzio's hands. A friendly voice advised him to make his fortune and clear out of Scotland. He laughed with scorn at the suggestion, and remarked that the Scots were too timorous to touch him. It was even stated that he was to sit as Chan- cellor in the next parliament. All this, with the suspicion that he was the mainspring of a movement to restore Popery, won for him a wholesale hatred, and his ruin was talked of long before he perished by the hands of assassms. On the i8th of February, 1566, the English ambassador declared : " I know that if that take effect which is intended, David, with the consent of the King, shall have his throat cut within these ten days." Eight days previously, Darnley had started a pro- posal to Ruthven on the matter; and it is just possible that the foolish boy had blabbed the secret as he went about whining like a school- boy over the Queen's unkindness, and her delay in giving him the crown-matrimonial. Meanwhile Rizzio was heard to boast that the bastard Moray should never live in Scotland in his time. The Murder of Rizzio. At last Darnley opened his heart to Ruthven, one of the most determined of the Protestant nobles, who had been lying ill for months in his house in the Bow, in Edinburgh. Young George Douglas passed like a shuttlecock day after day between the two parties. The faith- less character of Darnley was only too well known, but he swore on the Book that he 724 RIZZIO AND DARN LEY. cou:d be trusted this time. Ruthven, Morton, Lindsay, and the other conspirators had quite another aim than the prince in agreeing to put Rizzio out of the way : they stipulated " that the lords banished for the Word of God might return to their country and estates," and that "they should have their religion freely established, conform to Christ's Book and to the articles subscribed by the King to the lords." Darnley bargained for the pleasure of having the Italian seized at the supper table, that the Oueen and her alleged paramour might be taunted face to face with their guilt ; the others were determined to strike him down as a " known minion of the Pope." The ruthless spirit of the plotters is shown by Ruthven's narrative, written shortly after the murder, and while the author was approaching death. It is a calm, cold-blooded story, without a single trace of penitence, without one sigh of gentle regret. It winds up with the pious wish for Mary : " The Eternal God, who hath the rule of all princes in His hand, send His Holy Spirit that she may rule and govern with clemency and mercy ! " The words of the old historian of Edinburgh, written a hundred years ago, are still applicable to the condition of Holyrood palace : — " In the second floor are Queen Mary's apartments, in one of which her own bed still remains. It is of crimson da- mask, bordered with green silk tassels and fringes, and is now almost in tatters. . . . Close to the floor of this room, a piece of wainscot, about a yard square, hangs upon hinges, and opens a passage to a trap-stair which connects with the apartment be- neath." The boudoir or cabinet of the Queen, leading off from the bedchamber, was a very small place, being only some twelve feet square. At seven o'clock on Saturday evening, the 9th of March, 1566, the Queen sat in this last-mentioned room on a low couch. The party around the little supper-table seems to have been a most informal one. There was the Countess of Argyll at the one end of the table, and at the other sat David Rizzio, with his cap on, and wearing a night-^own of damask, furred, a satin doublet, and hose of russet velvet. Arthur Erskine, Captain of the Queen's Guard, and others of the palace domestics were also present ; Darnley, who had supped early, so as to have his hands clear for business, entered the group and placed himself amorously beside his bei U-iful spouse, giving her a "Judas-kiss" she never forgot MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS or forgave. At the same time, just before the closing of the gates, a body of one hundred and fifty men, comprising the Earl of Morton, Lord Lindsay, and Lord Ruthven, marched into the palace court and took the keys from the porter. Ruthven, a man of forty-six, with face looking pale and ghastly from "an inflammation of the liver and a consumption of the kidneys " that had kept him constantly in bed for three months, passed up from the King's chamber by the private staircase into the Queen's bedroom, and thence into the cabinetr There sat the boy-husband, chatting affectionately with the delicate Queen, and with his arm round her waist. The grim guise in which Ruthven entered was more suggestive of a raid against the Highland savages, or against such notorious Border thieves as the Armstrongs and Elliots, than of an evening visit to a delicate and courtly Queen. Something like a feeling of uncanniness must have run through the merry party as they caught the first ghmpse of that haggard visage and helmet- covered head ; and the first words he uttered with sepulchral voice were in keeping with the terrifying aspect : " Let it please Your Majesty that yonder man David come forth of your privy- chamber, where he hath been over long ! " Rizzio saw his doom plainly written on the stern features of the Scottish baron. As in a nightmare, he heard his royal mistress launch out her cutting sarcasm in his defence, and order Ruthven to leave her presence on pain of treason ; he listened tremulously to the accusation that he had taken bribes ; that he had committed foul dis- honour against Darnley; that he had sought to prevent the Queen from carrying out her promise of the crown-matrimonial ; that he brought about the banishment of the chief nobles so that he might himself get rank among the nobility. Darnley stood quite stunned, while Ruthven thus addressed him — " Take the Queen your wife and sovereign to you,"and at the same time made an attempt to seize Rizzio. Queen Mary was standing m the recess of a window, and the terror-struck Italian, who had mocked at the bravery of Scotsmen shortly before, now cowered behind his royal mistress, holding by the folds of her gown, and clutching his drawn dagger in un- conscious desperation. Some of the domestics tried to seize Ruth- ven, but he shook them off and kept them at bay with his naked dagger. Some of the 7-5 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. conspirators, who had followed Ruthven into the bedchamber by the private staircase, rushed upon the scene, tilting over the table in the unseemly scuffle, and making sad havoc among the royal viands. One of the candles that threw a dim flicker of light over the boudoir was luckily captured by the Countess of Argyll. The King loosed Rizzio's hand from the Queen's dress, and the con- spirators laid hold on him, while the fanatic earl gallantly seized the Oueen and placed her in her husband's arms, assuring her of her own safety, as they were only acting under her husband's orders, and would sooner spend their own heart's blood than that she should suffer harm. Rizzio was dragged out of the cabinet, appealing to the Queen with piercing shrieks and cries for mercy : " Gius- tizia, Giustizia ! Sauve ma vie ; Madame, sauve ma vie ! " Ruthven gave orders to his followers to take him down the private passage into the King's chamber, and then returned to the boudoir, possibly to keep guard on Darnley, lest he should babble to Delilah. It seems to have been intended by the determined leaders to try Rizzio that night in the palace, and hang him on the morrow : cords, indeed, had been brought as if for that purpose. But when the Italian was hurled out into the larger company of Morton, which had ascended to the ante- chamber, he was met by an explosion of fury. The " shameless butcher," George Douglas, a bastard son of the Earl of Angus, struck him in the side with the King's dagger, and the savage work of assassination was completed with over fifty blows from swords and hangers. A large, dark ineffaceable stain at the outer door of the ante-chamber is still believed in popular conviction to mark the spot where the furious assassins threw themselves upon their victim. A portrait of Darnley, removed from Hampton Court in 1864, now looks down upon the scene of the tragedy : it is the feeble face of an overgrown and overweening boy, who seems more suited for the cane of a severe grammar-master than for a crown-matrimonial or association with a band of Scottish ghouls. When the body had lain weltering in blood for some time, Darnley, after parting from his wife for the night, ordered it to be thrust out of the palace ; and the mangled corpse was tossed down-stairs into the porter's lodge. There the assistant porter laid it out on a box, and proceeded to strip off the hacked and stained raiment, remarking, " Upon this chest was his bed when he entered into this place, and now here he lieth again, — a very ingrate and misknowing knave ! " It is worth mentioning that Darnley's own dagger had been leit sticking in the body of Rizzio after the murder was completed, as if to fix the main responsi- bility for the deed upon the young King, and prevent his cowardly nature from retreat and betrayal of his associates. After the Murder. There is no space to introduce discussion as to particular acts of cruelty, and so forth, but we must make a brief remark on the allegation by the Queen that "some held pistols to Her Majesty, some stroke whiniards so near her that she felt the coldness of the steel." Ruthven declares before God that this "was never meant nor done." Mary's charge, however, is corroborated by one of Darnley's attendants, Anthony Standen, who seems afterwards to have held a pension of five shillings a day from Queen Mary up to the time of her execution. This person, who in old age was imprisoned in the Tower as a plotting Papist, was one of the spectators of the murder, and declares in a petition he addressed to King James that in the "bloody tumult and press," one of Ruthven's followers offered to fix his poniard in the Queen's left side, but that he (Standen) turned aside the dagger and wrested it from the traitor ; thus, he alleges, saving two lives together, — a sei-vice which their Majesties esteemed accordingly. Another interesting question is the guilt of John Knox. The greatest Scottish teacher of his age justified political assassination, and he has left on record his approval of the deed. The murder of "that great abuser of this commonwealth, that poltroon and vile knave Davie," is lauded in the most un- equivocal terms as a "just act, and most worthy of all praise." During the enacting of the tragedy in the ante-chamber, Ruthven and Darnley were back in the Queen's cabinet, and a pretty httle dialogue went on, full of mutual recrimi- nation. Darnley's charges need not be quoted, as they will readily suggest them- selves. Ruthven, sadly tired, called for a cup of wine. Mary railed at him fiercely after he had refreshed himself, and threatened him, should anything happen to her or her un- born infant, with the vengeance of the King ot Spain, the Emperor, the King of France, her uncles, and the Pope. The earl replied with grim humour that these great folks would not trouble themselves to " meddle with such a poor man as he was." During this lively altercation some servants reported a disturb- ance below with Morton. Ruthven went down, supported under the arm ; and after a convivial glass in Bothwell's lodgings, paid a visit to those of Athole, who was also resident in the palace at that time. He then returned to the Queen's cabinet with the news that they were all merry, and no harm done, and told her that Rizzio was in her husband's chamber. The provost of the city and a crowd appeared before the palace, but the Queen was prevented from speaking to them 726 RIZZIO AND DARN LEY. from her window, and Ruthven declared that all was well. Bothwell and Huntly, in spite of the convivial meeting with Ruthven, thought it prudent to escape that night by a low window of the palace. Preparations for Flight of Mary and Darnley ; A Supper of Rope.* After Darnley and Ruthven had left the Queen, tired and indignant, to pace her chamber during the weary night hours, the former showed a disposition to back from the precipice. The cool and resolute Protestants told him it was too late ; his part was in the forefront ; and if he were so chicken-hearted as to refuse to carry out their project to its end, they would support each other to the utmost and spare no man. Alone in the group of murderers, the frightened lad sent for his father, who joined the conclave. It was decided that on the following day (Sunday) Darnley should issue a proclama- tion dissolving the parliament that was to meet on Monday. It was also proposed — was it? — that the Queen should be removed to the castle of Stirling, where, Lord Lindsay remarked, she would have no lack of amuse- ment in rocking her baby and singing it asleep, shooting in the garden with her bow, and doing whatever she liked with herself. But some, it was hinted, might take to arms in opposition. His remedy was a simple one : " We will cut her into gobbets and throw her to them from the top of the terrace." Lord Lindsay of the Byres, who is charged in Nau's story with these unamiable suggestions, was perhaps capable of uttering them and even carrying them out ; his character and appear- ance will be familiar to most readers from the description of him in Sir Walter Scott's admirable novel, " The Abbot." The blunt but honest peer is there depicted as being strong-limbed, with bushy, grizzled eyebrows, dark fiery eyes, scar-seamed face, and harsh, haughty tone. Men like the spectral Ruthven and the herculean Lindsay were not likely to flinch from any measure they took on hand, and there is no wonder that the hare-brained and hare-hearted son of Lennox shook in the presence of these dreadful Scotsmen. To this day the Lindsays have maintained the Titanic bodily vastness of the old stock ; and the father of the present chief, who success- fully claimed the old peerage five years ago, * To a large extent this portion of the story is based on a French document in the British Museum, hitherto unpublished, to which attention was first pro- perly called in the Month for 1879. This abstract we have used along with the original. This narrative by- Mary's secretary, Nau, is fresh at least, although in parts incredible ; it was possibly derived from Mary's own lips. It sets forth ad nauseam the brutalities of Darnley towards his wife which led to his detes- tation by the whole body of the nobles, and finally to his murder. Major-General Sir Henry Lindsay, has been described to us as " one of those nobles of nature, whom many will remember as being almost of gigantic size." Darnley, now forced into the position of figure-head of a revolution, was frightened by the strange side-whisperings of the nobles, and was warned with open threats against talking with the Queen except in the presence of the lords. When he retired, a guard was placed outside of his chamber instead of his cwn attendants. The boy felt terribly alone curing the night watches. In his feverish imbecility he crept up the private stair, like a child afraid of ghosts, and finding the door of his wife's bedchamber locked, he called on her to open it as he had something important for their mutual safety to communicate to her. His prayer was refused, and the Queen spent the whole night in lamentation with her domestics. " Ah, my Mary ! " said Darnley on Sunday morning when he was admitted to a secret interview, and threw himself on his knees, "I must now confess, though too late, the wrong I have done you, for which I can make no amends but seek your forgive- ness and plead my youth and lack of judg- ment." He beseeched the Queen to have pity on him, on their unborn child, and on herself The silly traitor, now that his own immediatepassion for vengeance was satisfied, actually handed to her the secret articles agreed on between him and the conspirators, remarking that he was a dead man if it were ever discovered that he had done so. " Since you have set us on this precipice," she said, "strive to get us off it." He assured her that he would be wise in future, and would never rest till he had avenged her on these inalheureux traistres — these wretched traitors — when once they had escaped from their hands. Flight was agreed on ; but on her " conscience " — she could never tell a lie, she said — she objected to his offer of a com- promise between her and the conspirators. These men, however, kept a strict watch. On that Sunday she partook of no food till four in the afternoon, and even this was closely examined by the stubborn Lord Lindsay before it reached her. Passing over the dissolution of parliament, and the appearance of Moray and the other banished lords at the Tolbooth on Monday to answer before the parliament which had been dissolved by the proclamation of the previous day, — a strange freak of diplomacy, — we shall allude to a curious story, scarcely credible on the face of it, but told with complete gravity in Nau's narrative. The old lady of the story — who does not even appear as a character in Swinburne's drama of Bothwell — was the Dowager-Countess of Huntly, wife of the " fat lurdane " who had been slain by the Queen's forces, and in her 727 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. presence, on the field of Corrichie — a piece of wild and lonely moorland in Aberdeenshire we have visited years ago — and was also mother of Edom of Gordon, of that young candidate for Mary's hand who had been ex. cuted before the Queen's own eyes at the cros j of Aberdeen, and of Bothwell's own wife, whose nuptials had been celebrated with great pomp only a few days before. Bothwell and Huntly, as we have seen, had made their escape on the night of the murder, and the mother of the latter of these two nobles, being permitted to wait upon the Queen, brought in a rope- ladder between two plates — a peculiar kind of supper, reminding us of the cask of butter sent into Edinburgh Castle eighty years later, by which James Grant (the bandit known as An Tuim) descended the precipitous wall and rock of that grim fortress. The old dame dehvered a message from her son the Earl, Moray's mortal enemy, and the other nobles who had taken flight, stating that they would be ready to receive her if she could find means of descending by a window. This " confab " — for so we must term it — was carried on while the Queen sat on a chaise percee. Mary succeeded also in re- plying by letter that the plan of Bothwell and Huntly was impracticable owing to the close guard kept overhead and in front of the window, but requesting them to meet her the next night in a village near Seton, the palace of one of her most faithful adherents, on the route to the famous rock-perched castle of Dunbar, which was in future days to be even more closely and romantically associated with her name. Lindsay became suspicious of the colloquy, and entered the room, ordered Lady Huntly out, searched her, and sent her off for good. The old countess, however, had succeeded in concealing the Queen's letter next her body. On the same day (Monday), the lords of the Lennox faction presented themselves in the ante-chamber, all on bended knees, the Earl of Morton, who was spokesman of the party, kneeling on the very spot that was still red with the blood of Davie. This inter- viewwas intended to win the Queen completely over into the hands of the Protestant lords. " True," said Morton, "they had violated their duty as subjects ; but the like had happened pretty often before, and the loss of a single foreigner was not to be set against the rum of many lords and gentlemen, her subjects, who might one day render good, great, and signal service." The Earl, of Moray also' begged his sister's pardon for returning with- out her leave from exile, swearing by his God that he knew nothing of the murder till after his return, and begged her clemency for those who were guilty. Mary had always an un- limited amount of the bitterest sarcasm at her tongue's end, and she did not spare her 728 petitioners on this occasion. The nobles and others had given her frequent oppor- tunities for practising the virtue of mercy. " I owe justice," she said, "to everyone, and I cannot deny it to those who shall ask it in the name of the man who has been murdered. Whatever his rank may have been, the honour to which he had attained a-s my servant should have protected him from any outrage, especially in my own presence." The as- surance given by Mary of a full and ready pardon was not satisfactory; and as the nobles continued to press the necessity of her signing a bond of indemnity, she cried out as if smit with sudden pain. The delicate barricade behind which the Queen thus suddenly and adroitly sheltered herself was suspected by the lords. They quizzed the nurse ija sage fe mine), whom they had themselves appointed ; but she assured them that the Queen was really in the perilous condition to which she had confessed. They were therefore forced to defer their conference with her till the morrow : and by that time the royal bird had flown, in company with her timorous and treacherous husband. The Midnight Flight From Holy- rood ; Rizzio's Ghost ; Brutality of Darnley. The plan having been arranged by Mary, she and Darnley descended the wall of Holyrood, beside his bedroom, shortly after midnight on Tuesday, the .T2th of March, and thence made their way to the office of the butlers and cupbearers, all or most of whom were French, and might be trusted. A low, narrow door, fortunately with a broken lock and open to any one, led from this into the chapel burying-ground. Near this door were stationed Sir John Stewart of Traquair, Captain of the Quten's Guard, William his brother, Arthur Erskine, the esquire of the Queen stables, along with Anthony Standen; Erskine stood ready with a strong, tall gelding, with a pillion for the Queen to ride behind him, and there were two or three other horses for the King and his attendants. On their way through the cemetery, Mary and Darnley passed close by the fresh-made grave of Rizzio, the exact locality of which Darnley knew, although the Queen did not. He sighed audibly, as if he had seen the ghost of the murdered Italian, and the Queen mquired the cause of his lamentation. " Madam," said her timid husband, "we have just passed the grave of poor David. I have lost in him a good and faithful servant, and I shall never look upon his like again. There will not be a day in my life when I shall not regret him." This indulgence in lamentation, however pleasing it might be to Mary's feelings, was rather inopportune. RIZZIO AND DARN LEY. 7-9 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. as there was danger lest the enemy should be wakened up. This story, however like the character of Darnley, can scarcely be true, for the body of Rizzio does not ap- pear tb have been removed to the chapel ground for some time after the flight ; and it is just probable that this romantic tale was invented by Mary during the long, weary, and miserable years of her imprisonment in England. As soon as the little band had got clear of the town, Darnley put his horse into a gallop, and continued at "that pace until they neared Seton, where a band of soldiers had been posted by the loyal' nobles. Darnley was scared by the sight, which grew in the mirage of his timorous nature into a host of those horrible enemies with whom he had recently made an unfortunate aUiance. He spurred his horse into a furious gallop, and flogged the Queen's also, exclaiming (the reader of Swinburne's Boihwell will not fail to observe Darnley 's constant habit of swearing), " Get on ! Get on ! God's blood, they'll murder us, both you and me, if they catch us ! " In her delicate condition the Queen asked him to have a little mercy, for she would rather run the greatest personal danger than risk the life of her unborn child. The brute turned on her in a passion, and bestowed on her one of his customary oaths and a sentence that can scarcely be termed decent. The heartless fellow, when his suffering wife told him she could not gallop longer, and advised him to go ahead himself and look to his own safety, actually took her at her word, and pushed on towards the castle of Dunbar. She was joined on the way by Bothwell and other chiefs, and reached Dun- bar in safety. They denounced Darnley as a fickle fool, and some of them even refused to speak to the man who was a brute towards his wife and a traitor alike to both political parties. They declared that he had no title to their obedience as king, and in future his orders and promises would be thrown away on them. The story of the midnight ride has been told smartly and briefly enough by Hill Bur- ton: — "The Queen seated on a crupper behind Erskine,they all rode straight to Seton House, where the Lord Seton gave them an escort on to Dunbar. The governor of that strong fortress was amazed, early on Tuesday morn- ing, by the arrival of his King and Queen, hungry and clamorous for fresh eggs for breakfast." But as we have now followed it, as probably told by Mary in England, a ghastly light is thrown on Darnley's character, while an intense pathos gathers round the lovely Queen. We seem to look down into the heart of the domestic tragedy that was ripening rapidly towards Darnley's fearful doom. DARNLEY Utterly Deserted. At Dunbar a proclamation was issued for the immediate gathering of an army ; and those who were connected with the Rizzio plot fled with precipitation across the Border, or at least to a safe distance. Only a few of the leeser actors in the tragedy suffered the last penalty of the law. On the 19th of March, the Queen arrived once more in Edin- burgh, in conipany with the Hamiltons, Huntly, and other nobles, Bothwell having behind his back a force of two thousand horsemen. On the next day a document of a shamelessly astounding nature was posted up in Edinburgh — nothing less than a denial by the King of any connection with the murder. The star of Darnley had fallen completely so far as the leaders were concerned; and the only way in which he could manifest his power was by trying to influence the Queen lay tricks of sottish brutality. He was eager for the dismissal of the astute Maitland of Lethington, and charged him with being a principal in the Rizzio conspiracy; but in the turmoil the Queen felt the need of the sagacity and experience of that mysterious and wily Protestant statesman ; and in the whole group that surrounded her he seems to have been the only man whose real ability exerted something like a spell over her own intellect. Darnley was passionately indignant at her refusal to accept his nominee as Secre- tary of State, and sent avalet-de-chambre one evening to inform her that she would find his two pistols, loaded and primed, lying at the back of his bed. The Queen at once met his mad threat by paying him a long visit in his own room, and succeeded in carrying off the weapons. On the next day she exposed the matter before the Council. It was neces- sary, in the momentous peril of motherhood, that the enmity of the chief members of the twoparties — such as Lethington and Bothwell, against the former of whom there were dark whispers of his having instigated a plot for the latter's assassination — should as far a^ possible be swept away, knowing the risk of her offspring becoming a bone of contention among the lords if she were carried off. She showed her final contempt for Darnley by attempting a reconciliation of the two parties in April, so as to ensure the safe guardianship of her offspring. While the Queen, a little later, was passing through a mother's period of excitement and agony in Edinburgh castle, the infant's father was leading a life of stillen dissipation, reeling from his cups and debau- cheries to the castle gates at all hours of the night, talking wildly among his drunken associates of killing Moray, or of shipping himself off to France, and spending a jolly life on his wife's dowry. The threat of deser- tion, if carried out, would have provoked a 730 RIZZIO AND DARNLEY. wide European scandal, especially as Darn- ley's tongue had a foolish habit of wagging on his woes in a.11 sorts of company. The Queen called a meeting of the lords, and, in answer to her appeal, the churlish King allowed, somewhat sulkily, that she had given him no ground for such a step. He then walked out of the presence-chamber, bidding farewell to the matrimonial court, and re- marking to the Queen herself, " Adieu, madam : you shall not see my face for a long space," Another amiable scene may be mentioned. Towards the close of August, Mary went to the Borders, and while there, Darnley requested her to go out to a stag hunt. The Queen suggested in a whisper that galloping would be dangerous in her present condition; whereupon he answered indecently, in the hearing of the company, receiving in return a sharp reproof from the Laird of Traquair for using language that did not become a Christian. The impotent and ambitious debauchee, thus scouted on every hand, was driven to desperation. Possessing some dangerous acquaintance with Mary's diplomatic relations to France and Rome, he endeavoured to stir up a spirit of opposition to her in those courts, alleging that she had abandoned the restoration of the Catholic faith. The result of this stupid and offensive dabbling may be given in the words of Knox's "History:" — "The King being now contemned of all men because the Queen cared not for him, he went sometime to the Lennox to his father, and sometime to Stirling, whither the prince was carried a little before. Always he was des- titute of such things as were necessary for him, having scarcely six horses in train. And being thus desolate and half desperate, he sought means to go out of the country : and about the same time, by the advice of foolish cagots, he wrote to the Pope, etc. (as above). By some knave, this poor prince was betrayed, and the Queen got a copy of these letters into her hands, and therefore threatened him sore ; and there was never after that any appearance of love betwixt them." Character and Rise of Bothwell; Queen Mary's Ride to the Hermitage, The wretched, foolish Darnley having been cast aside as a child's toy when it is found to contain only sawdust, Mary drifted into the hands of Patrick Hepburn, Earl of Both- well, the most powerful noble in the south of Scotland after the Earl of Arran. Born in 1535, he was now turned thirty, and was the Queen's senior by seven years. His life had been one of adventure, gallantry, war- fare, with a strong dash of unscrupulous scoundrelism. In his early years abroad, he had espoused and cruelly deserted, in a strange land, a Norwegian lady named Anna Throndson, the daughter of an admiral of Christian III. of Denmark. Whence re- turned home, more than one fair dame had fallen a victim to the wiles of the dashing, ill-featured chevalier. Among these reputed frail ones was the heroine of the Lay of the Last Minstrel, Dame Janet Betoun, a rela- tive of the famous cardinal of that surname. Divorced from her second husband, she had taken to herself a third and last, that Sir Walter Scott who was murdered in Edin- burgh streets in 1552. She was a perfect Amazon, and on one occasion led two hundred armed men of the Scott clan to a border conflict. She had the reputation of a witch, and was openly accused of having produced the peculiar attention of Queen Mary to Bothwell by the use of the black art. His name was a byword for low profligacy in the Scottish capital; but he had tried to con- vince Knox of his repentance, and had gone to sermon on Sunday, although in this case " God had another work to work than the eyes of man could espy," Accused of a plot to seize the Queen in 1562,- — possibly his accuser was as insane as the great Reformer suggested, — he was imprisoned, but succeeded in making his escape to France, where he obtained the dignity of Captain of the Scots Guard. Finally, when his arch-enemy, the pious Moray, had fled into England after Darnley's marriage, he returned to his native country, and was received with honour. Only a fortnight before Rizzio's murder, he married by dispensation Lady Jane Gordon, a member of the powerful Catholic house of Huntly, and a daughter of the old dame whose services were so strangely utilised two days after the murder. The alliance was accompanied with festivities and tournaments for five days ; and into these the Queen entered with special zest. At last he had come to the front as Mary's most prominent defender. One episode that took place to- wards the close of 1 566, and has been exag- 1 gerated and distorted into a serious calumny, I demands a little notice out of sheer justice to the Queen, As Warden of the Marches, Bothwell was hunting down some of the Border freebooters for trial at the circuit court at Jedburgh, where Mary arrived with her oflicers of state on the 9th of October. On the very day on which the Queen left Edinburgh, Little Jock EUiot, one of the most notorious thieves in Liddesdale, was seized by the earl ; the marauder, however, succeeded in slipping from horseback and made to run off. In the attempt to recapture his prey, Bothwell tumbled down a ditch, and received three serious wounds — one of them, it is worth bearing in mind, was in the hand — from the freebooter, after having shot him in the body 731 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. vvilh a pistol. George Buchanan, in his elo- quent and skilful indictment known as the " Detection,'"' a work that spread all over Europe, and formed the popular hideous im- pression of Mary's wickedness, raised on this matter an unjust slander against her honour. "When," he says, "news hereof was brought to Borthwick to the Queen, she flingeth away in haste like a mad woman, by great journeys in post in the sharp time of winter, first to Melrose, and then to Jedworth.* There, though she heard sure news of his life, yet her affection, impatient of delay, could not temper itself, but needs she must bewray her outrageous lust, and, in an inconvenient time of the year, despising all discommodities of the way and weather and all danger of thieves, she betook herself headlong to her journey with such a company as no man of any honest degree would have adventured his life and his goods among them." The fact is, however, that Mary exhibited no such mad hurry. She actually remained at Jedburgh till the i6th of October, when the press of business was over, before she set off on her white palfrey for Hermitage Castle, where the warden lay sorely wounded. Going and coming, it was a ride of sixty miles across the moors ; but Mary was an accomplished horse-woman, and her figure, dashing along mounted on her steed, was familiar in those days over the length and breadth of Scotland. The people of the district of that eventful and almost fatal ride still give the name of the Queen's Mire to a morass in which her palfrey was bogged. Far from giving way to " outrageous lust," she even transacted state business at the Hermitage. On her return to Jedburgh, she fell into a sickness of the most severe t) pe, and for ten days the physicians regarded her case as hopeless. In a touching document brought to light in 1881, entitled "The Declaration of the Will," etc., she most unmistakably points to Darnley's cruelty as the cause of her sickness. Her careless and selfish and dissolute hus- band did not arrive from Glasgow until she had become convalescent. It is not im- possible that not only her physical system, but her mind itself, became temporarily deranged. She was often heard to murmur, " I could wish to be dead." Just after this period of severe anguish, the following ominous words were penned by Mary's secretary, Lethington : " It is a heartbreak to her to think that he should be her husband, and how to be free of him she has no outgait [escape]." The pitiable isolation into which Darnley had sunk, his lamentable estrangement from his wife and the nation's leaders, is most completely unveiled by the fact that he was not even present at the baptism of his own * This is the old form of the name Jedburgh. child. Prince James, in December 1566. On the evening when that ceremony was per- formed in the Chapel Royal at Stirhng with great pomp, and the little Solomon underwent the initial rite of the Christian Church by water from a rich gold font presented by the Maiden Queen, the father of the babe was actually residing in Stirling Castle. He was even not tempted by the gorgeous banquet that followed in the great hall, but remained sulkinar in his chamber, and, without saying good-night, he stole away from the aching scene of the festivities to his father's residence in Glasgow. The presiding genius at the Stirling ceremonies was the chivalrous, courtly, and ambitious Bothwell. Getting rid of Darnley. So the lords met and talked the matter over. There was but one thing that stood in the way of a divorce in the Queen's mind — how it would affect the legitimacy of her infant son. They assured her that parlia- ment would make the matter right on this point. What regard Mary now had for Darnley was only due to the circumstance that he was the father of her child. Instead of a divorce so shocking to a mother's feelings, would not it be better that he should be got rid of in a way that would at least bury any doubt as to the legality of the marriage and the legitimacy of the little Prince James ? It almost seemed as if Providence itself were anxious to cut the Gordian knot. In the midst of all this plotting, the scapegrace was struck down with some foul disease, which has commonly been called small-pox, and was removed to his father's house in Glas- gow, near the old cathedral. Several times during his illness he requested to see the Queen, and, according to the narrative of Nau, "although she was ill, having injured her bosom by a fall from her horse at Seton, she went, sat with him, and tended him on his return to Edinburgh. During the journey, a raven accompanied them from Glasgow to Edinburgh, where it remained. It perched on the King's lodging, and sometimes on the Castle. On the day before his death it sat and croaked for a very long time upon the house." Something else than the croak of a raven had to do with the removal of Darnley to Edinburgh and the hideous extinction of his life. In the interview with her husband, the Queen pressed on him to agree to his removal to Craigmillar Castle, close by Edin- burgh, when he had made some progress to- wards recovery, and take the bath there. Darnley would seem to have had a strange premonition of his doom ; still, he declared to a faithful attendant, " he would go with her, and put himself in her hands, though she should cut his throat." The old castle of the Prestons was not, 732 RIZZIO AND DARN LEY. after all, the final destination of the fated man. He was escorted by Mary to the Kirk-of-Field, a place abutting on the city wall, situated on the spot where the Univer- sity now stands. Nau insists that this was not the Queen's choice, but that she was in favour of his being taken to Craigmillar, and that he was not settled in Holyrood because of the danger of the young prince being infected. Buchanan, on the other hand, attempts to make out a horrid charge against Mary and the lodgings of Darnley: — " Is it among dead men's graves to seek the preserving of life ? For hard by there were the ruins of two kirks ; on the east side a monastery of Dominic friars ; on the west, a kirk of Our Lady, which, for the desolateness of the place, is called the Kirk-in-the-Field ; on the south side the town wall, and in the same, for commodious passage every way, is a postern door ; on the north side are a few beggars' cottages, then ready to fall, which sometime served for stews for certain priests and monks, the name of which place does plainly disclose the form and nature thereof, for it is commonly called the Thief Row." Nothing can really be charged against Queen Mary, on any authority that is beyond ques- tion, of actual foreknowledge of the crime about to be perpetrated in this retired spot — for such it then was, although it now lies in the very heart of the city. We know that when he was in Glasgow, she sent her own physician to attend him, wrote many friendly letters to him there, and when he was removed to the squalid district in Edinburgh, she often sat with him in his room like an affectionate wife, walked in the neighbouring garden, or brought her choir to him to elevate his spirits. The lodgings provided for him were elegantly if hastily furnished. " In a chamber on the ground floor," says Joseph Robertson, " directly under the King's chamber, there was a Httle bed of yellow and green damask, with a furred coverlet, in which the Queen slept on the nights of Wednesday and Friday." There was therefore every appearance of be- coming wifely attention and of returning love ; and if we may take Nau's word for it, the Queen was frequently blamed by the lead- ing nobles of the country for coming to an understanding with him. But, on the other hand, as we have seen, she was perfectly well aware that the national leaders were desirous of removing Darnley as a complete nuisance from the scene of pohtical action. It is impossible to say who were all the persons involved in the plot against the life of the foolish young King, but it must be accepted as a fact that a bond was prepared by which the chief parties bound themselves to free the Queen from the bondage and misery to which she had been reduced by her husband's conduct ; and it must also be accepted as a fact that the most active person in carrying out the plot was Hepburn of Bothwell. We have not the slightest faith in the theory that, in associating with and marrying Bothwell, Mary was stricken blind by a woman's mad love, and believed in his innocence in the teeth of all public accusa- tion. The Gunpowder Plot at Kirk- of-Field. On Saturday the 8th of February, Darnley received warning of his danger from Lord Robert Stuart, a younger brother of the more famous Earl of Moray ; and the patient sent information to the Queen, who in her turn wrote to Stuart, who was her half-brother, on the matter. The latter gentleman went to Darnley's residence in the Kirk-of-Field, and had an altercation with him, denying vehemently that he had ever given any such intimation to the King. That Mary should in any case have been content to leave her husband unprotected by a guard, or to have remained away from him after this terrible revelation, is an argument against her inno- cence which the keenest of her advocates and admirers will have considerable difficulty in dealing with. It was clear now to the plotters that the bird must be disposed of at once, in case the roused suspicion should lead to his taking immediate flight beyond their power ; and at a final consultation on Sunday in Bothwell's rooms, it was arranged that on that very night the powder which had been brought up from Dunbar Castle, of which arsenal he was governor, and stored in his rooms at Holyrood Palace, should be used to blow up the house in which the doomed man lay. There were two festivals on that Sunday evening, — one to be given on the departure of the Savoy ambassador, and another an the wedding of the Queen's French servant, Sebastian Pagez, to Lhristily Hogg. At the former the Queen and Bothwell were both present ; and as it grew dark, the latter left the banquet to meet his assistants, who were four small Scottish lairds, his own three servants, and his own minion Nicholas Hu- bert, commonly called French Paris, whom he had brought from France and placed in Her Majesty's service. At ten o'clock two horses, in two succes- sive loads, carried the powder along the out- side of the city wall to the gate at the Kirk- of-Field ; it was then taken in bags into the Queen's chamber, which lay right under that of her husband. Before or while this tedious process was going on, evidently under Both- well's own superintendence, the Queen arrived at the solitary house with several of the nobles, and, without visiting her own room, either in going up or down past it, went into Darnley' 733 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. apartment, where she seems to have remained for a considerable time. • Darnley's guests were playing dice upstairs, and Bothwell, after having seen a large portion of the powder quietly deposited, went up to join the group, returning with the Queen to Holy- rood about eleven o'clock. After leaving the feast at midnight, he repaired to his own rooms, doffed his court attire for a coarser doublet and a dark trooper's cloak, and then set forth with his three minions and French Paris towards the scene of the coming tragedy. As the Canongate Port was closed, they were challenged by the keeper, who admitted the party without scruple on receiving the reply that they were friends of the Earl of Both- well. The thick match leading to the gun- powder was lighted by Hay of Talla, a wild district on the borders, and Bothwell's own relative, John Hepburn of Bolton. It burned so slowly that the earl grew impatient, and was thinking of approaching to see what was the matter, when a loud explosion shook the earth, and roused every citizen in Edinburgh from his peaceful slumber. It was now between three and four o'clock on Monday morning. The murderers tried to escape over the city wall near Leith Wynd, at a considerable distance from the scene of the tragedy, but the injury " Little Jock Elliot" had done to his hand in the previous October •was still sufficient to prevent Bothwell's escape in this manner, and he was forced to seek exit at the Port by which he had entered. Half- an-hour later he was roused from bed by a messenger. He called out treason, donned the silver-embroidered court dress he had laid aside at midnight, and, along with his brother-in-law Huntly, sought an audience of the Queen, so as to inform her of some acci- dent that had just occurred at the Kirk-of- Field, and had caused a general consternation jn the city. Between eight and nine in the morning he returned to her with the infor- mation that she was a widow ; and as he left her presence, he told a courtier that the Queen was " sorrowful and quiet." Such had been the force of the explosion that the whole lodging was shattered down till not one stone remained above another, "but all either cari'ied far away, or dung in dross to the very ground- stone." There were five servants in attend- ance at the time of the explosion, all of whom were hurt or killed, while the body of Darnley was found under a tree outside the garden wall. He wore his linen only, had neither scorch nor bruise, and his boots and clothes were by his side. A letter from Queen Mary to her ambassador at the French Court states that God, not chance, had that night saved her from sleeping at the Kirk-of-Field, and intimates that it must have been done by gun- powder, but " by whom, or in what manner, it appears not as yet." Will the reader now compare the following statement from Nau's narrative, probably taken down from Mary's own lips ? — On the night of the murder, as she was about to leave the King, she met Paris, Bothwell's valet-de-chambre, and noticing that his face was all black with gunpowder, she exclaimed, just as she was mounting her horse, "Jesu, Paris, how begrimed you are ! " The body of Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, was embalmed for ^42 6^-., and was buried in Holyrood Chapel by torchlight on the Satur- day following the murder. After the Murder ; Bothwell's Sham Acquittal; His Marriage and Fate. Queen Maryhasbeen credited with becoming melancholy and fastings after the death of her worthless husband ; but what is certain is that she did not spend the usual forty days in mourning according to the Scottish custom, by keeping her darkened rooms lit by candles in the day-time ; that on the very next day after the somewhat secret interment of her murdered husband she withdrew from Edinburgh, under medical advice it was alleged, to Seton House, with Bothwell, Argyle, Huntly, andLethington, as the lead- ing members of her Court. During the week of the assassination, although no one dared publicly to claim the reward of ^2,000 offered to any who should discover the author of the murder, voices were heard at night openly proclaiming Bothwell as the guilty person, and placards were affixed to the door of the Tolbooth accusing him and certain others as the authors of the crime ; and yet the widowed Queen, knowing of these tickets, could join with Bothwell in shooting with steady hand and excellent aim at the butts at Seton against two noble opponents, and then proceed to a dinner at the miserable village of Traneat ; the expense of the public-house festivities being paid by the losers of the contest. Mary showed her indecent and insane contempt for public opinion and public justice by granting a pension at Seton, only ten days after the murder, to Signer Francis, one of those whom the placards accused of being guilty of the King's blood. True it is also that, after repeated applications by the father of her murdered husband, she complied with his request that the persons accused by him— the same as those mentioned on the Tolbooth placards — should have an immediate trial before the Lords ; and the Privy Council fixed the 1 2th of April for the ceremony. But as the Earl of Bothwell had in his power the command of the castle, and had several thousand men behind him in the streets of the city, Lennox did not dare to make per- sonal appearance at the trial, and Bothwell was in consequence acquitted of " art and 734 I RIZZIO AND DARN LEY. part of the said slaughter of the King" by the jury of fifteen nobles, over whose pro- ceedings the Earl of Argyll, one of Both- well's cronies, acted as president. Both well made a public challenge to engage in single- handed contest with any one who continued after this verdict to 'charge him with the murder. It was patent to every one who moved about the Court that the relation between the Queen and Bothwell would end in marriage; and a letter written by Kirkcaldy of Grange, afterwards the most famous and chivalrous of her defenders, expresses her mad devotion to her husband's murderer by the remark that " she cared not to lose France, England, and her own country for him, and shall go with him to the world's end in a white petti- coat before she will leave him." The hand of the fascinating royal widow was finally secured to Bothwell by the parliament which met at Edinburgh in the middle of April. Fresh possessions vi'ere added to his already immense power and wealth, and, as far as any ordinary human eye could perceive, he had attained a height and strength not likely to be toppled down by any possible combi- nation of the other chiefs of the country. On the 19th of April, the parliament held its last sitting, and at a feast held in an Edinburgh tavern in the afternoon, the magnates of the country entered into a bond for the support of Bothwell, and recommended Mary to adopt him as a husband in the distressed state of the nation. The support of the nobles was hollow, and Bothwell was very far from being a favourite in Scotland. In the previous summer the English ambassador had reported his insolence, declaring that he was the most hated man among the noblemen ; and that Da.vid (that is, Rizzio) was never more ab- horred than the Earl. A device even then, it was said, " was working " for him, and he had woven around himself such intense hatred that he " could not long continue," After the farce of the proposed marriage was over, the nobles retired to their country seats to plot the ruin of Bothwell, and let the ugly events develop themselves. Mary, it would appear from the narrative of Monsieur Nau, reminded Lethington and the others who presented themselves as dele- gates on the matter of the reports that had been current about Bothwell's connection with her husband's murder, and more than once refused to accept his hand. It is of course denied by Nau and all her defenders that it was by collusion with him that she went to visit her infant son at Stirling two days after the closing of the Parliament, and on the way back three days later, when within a few miles of Edinburgh, was seized by him at the head of fifteen hundred horse- men, and carried off to the castle of Dunbar. Steps were immediately taken for the divorce of Bothwell and his wife, — a shameless mockery, for the dispensation we have already mentioned, discovered at Dunrobin Castle, in Sutherlandshire, some ten or eleven years ago, had been granted, annulling all possible obstacles to their marriage. Mary herself pardoned him, or pretended to do so, for the treasonable offence of carrying her off into captivity, on account of his good behaviour towards her and his thankful service done in time bygone; and so the wedding of the loving couple was celebrated on the 15th oi May, — although an unlucky month, and Mary was not without her superstitions. It belongs to another chapter of the Oueen's Vi^etched life to tell how a single month later the con- federate lords met the forces of Bothwell and Mary at Carberry Hill, near the fishing town of Musselburgh, and how on that bloodless field the husband and wife parted, never to meet again on earth. It has been asserted by Nau that just before escaping from the scene he handed to the Queen the bond he and others of the nobles had entered into for putting Darnley out of the way. The story of Mary's life after her surrender at Carberry Hill to the rebel forces is full of pathos, sadness, and romance. Sorrow fol- lowed her without a moment's pause from the day when, passing over into the ranks of the confederate lords, she took the grim Lord Lindsay by the hand, exclaiming, " By the hand which is now in yours, I'll have your head for this !" Her imprisonment in the castle of Lochleven, her romantic escape, — although her half-brother, Moray, saw no romance in it but merely the result of his own folly in giving the "unmerciful Jezebel" too much liberty, instead of giving her " to the dogs to devour her flesh and bones," according to the teaching of God's Word, — her final stand at Langside, her flight over the borders into England, there to spend years in grief and plots, until her head fell at Fotheringay Castle, form perhaps the best known narrative in the annals of our country. If we refrain from telling the story of the " casket letters," on the basis of which she was accused in England of complicity with Bothwell in the murder, we must for this once plead want of space and the general belief that they were nothing better than forgeries ; but the less known story of the latter days of the unscrupulous nobleman, which has been unearthed by careful investigation of Danish records during recent years, and has not yet become familiar to British readei^s, perhaps deserves, to be set forth in some little detail as one of those tragedies that are stranger than fiction, in which poetic justice is dealt out to the guilty. 735 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. The Exile of Bothwell ; His Death IN Draxholm Castle. Partly through the Queen's entreaties and the advice of the astute Laird of Lethington, Bothwell leapt on horseback at Carberry Hill and rode away from the impending contest with his face set towards his strong castle of Dunbar, having, in his anxiety to " ease his conscience," left the bond of the conspirators in Mary's hands, implicating Morton, Lethington. and others. On the next day the lords bound them- selves to have the shameless marriage dis- solved, and not to rest until Bothwell was duly punished " as truly as we are noblemen and love the honour of our native country;" and a week later a proclamation at different market-crosses throughout Scotland set a reward of a thousand crowns upon his head, and forbade any person from providing the criminal with food or shelter. Bothwell seems to have made an effort to raise his partisans, but the sympathies of the country were dead against him. Twelve days after his flight from Carberry Hill, the former Admiral of Scotland set out from his castle of Dunbar towards the north with two vessels, and paid a visit to Strathbogie, the seat of Huntly, brother of his divorced wife, but without succeeding in the attempt to obtain the support of that nobleman. For a time he found a refuge at Spynie Castle with his aged uncle and namesake, the Bishop of Moray, under whose dissolute tutelage he had spent a portion of his early life ; but even there he was not safe from the threats of an assassin. For two months he had held the dignity of Duke of Orkney, and he now sought a refuge in those distant isles from which his ducal title was derived. The governor of Kirkwall Castle, formerly one of nis own minions at the time of the Darnley tragedy, had turned with the tide, and Both- well sailed still further northward, towards the bleak isles of Shetland. There he pur- chased two ships from the ports of Bremen and Hamburg, which traded, we imagine, in corn, beer, whisky, cloth, fish, and the nimble little ponies known as shelties. A small Scottish fleet was despatched against him, and his vessels were compelled to sail from the coast of Shetland. Shortly after this, the Earl found himself tossed by the storms of the North Sea on the rocky coast of Norway, and his two "pinkers" were captured as privateers by a war-ship of Frederick the Second. In vain did he ex- postulate against this seizure, declaring who he was, and that he had never taken a farthing's- worth without payment ; for the Norwegian captain could not well be expected to recog- nise the husband of the famous Scottish Queen, for whom his own royal master had been a suitor, in the ill-featured and shabby-looking man before him, who was attired in " old, torn, coarse boatswain's clothes." While he was at Bergen, an ugly memory of his earlier dissi- pated life turned up in the shape of his long- abandoned spouse, Anna Throndson, who had returned to her native Norway, where she was known as " The Scottish Lady." She summoned him before a legal court on the ground of his desertion of her ; but the wrath of the fair dame was appeased when her faithless lover handed over to her the smallest of his ships, and promised her an annuity from Scotland. He was carried over to Copenhagen, where he proceeded to lay his case before King Frederick, tempting that sovereign to assist him against the Scottish rebels by offering the old Norse possessions of Orkney and Shetland that had been pledged to Scotland several centuries before as the dowry of a Norwegian princess. In December of the same year (1567), a mes- senger arrived from Scotland, demanding the extradition of Bothwell as a murderer ; but the Danish King did not accede to the request, and instead ordered his removal to Malmoe Castle, across the Sound. The Scottish par- liament had already condemned him to the forfeiture of his rank, honours, life, andfortune. Although Frederick did not hand him over to the Scots, two of the other conspirators, Murray and Paris, who had accompanied Bothwell, were given over to justice in 1568; and the latter, after making a confession that implicated the Queen, was executed on the i6th of August in the following year. Till 1573 the " Scottish Earl " enjoyed con- siderable liberty in Malmoe, enjoying the King's munificence, feasting and carousing with his friends, and dressing himself in silk and velvet. In this retreat he was even per- mitted to correspond with Mary after her escape from Lochleven and while she was a prisoner in England. But from the year mentioned till his death in April 1578, he was practically buried from the world in a solitary and loathsome cell in the castle of Dragsholm, or Dragon's Island. Two iron bars in the wall are still pointed out by tradition as those to which his fetters were attached; and in those terrible years of divine vengeance no one had access to him except the persons who brought to a little window such " scurvy meat and drink as was allowed." The wretched end of him is thus told by Professor Schiern : " The Earl's coffin was brought from Dragsholm to the nearest church at Faareveile. This church, which stands away from the village, on the west of Isefjord, in a lonely and quiet spot, the haunt of gulls and sea-fowl, is said to be the last resting-place of him who once was the husband of Scotland's Queen." M. M. 736 Magellan's Vessels in a Storm. MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE THE FIRST JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD. " Thus hast thou all the regions of the East, Which by thee given unto the World is now ; Opening the way with an undaunted breast, Through that vast sea which none before did plough." The Sea of Pitchy Darkness — Former Discoveries— Fernando Magalhaens — His Services declined at Lisbon— Arrival at the Spanish Court — Agreement with the King— The Expedition Sets Sail — The Brazils—The Patagonians — Mutiny at San Julian — The Straits Discovered — The Pacific Entered — The Ladrone Islands — Disputes with the Islanders — Continuation of the Voyage — Manners and Customs of the Natives — Baptism and Conversion of the People — The Dispute at Malan — Death of Magellan — The Expedition Continued — Arrivaland Reception at Borneo — The Voyage Home — Run into Danger at Cape Verde Islands — Escape and Arrival in Spain — Conclusion. "The Sea of Pitchy Darkness." O Marco Polo is due the credit of removing the veil from the Asiatic shore of the South Seas, which had previously been regarded with such terror. The Arabic geographers portrayed the South Sea as a terrible waste of waters, which no voyager had been able to explore in consequence of its difficult navigation and great obscurity. The "Sea of Darkness" was supposed to be impenetrable, with its mountainous waves, "haughty winds," and "mighty fishes ;" no mariner dared to enter its waters. But when Marco Polo penetrated to China, and reached its eastern boundary, he calrried back to Europe a very different picture of the Sea of Darkness. He certainly con- firmed public opinion as to its extent and majesty ; but he also removed the unfavour- able impressions concerning it. "There were-, hundreds of islands," he said, "and all the trees were perfumed ;" and he concluded by saying that "it was impossible to estimate the value of the gold or other articles found in the islands." Christopher Colum.bus fancied that by sailing westward he would reach the Easterly continents, and arrive in Asia and Japan. The result of his voyages is known to every reader, and contemporary and later voyagers suc- ceeded in rounding the Cape of Storms, and made many other important discoveries. But Nunez de Balboa and the Spaniards were the first people to reach the coveted Southern Ocean in 15 13. Nunez, following the directions given him by a chief in Darien, near Santa Maria,, ascended to the summit of a mountain, and thence beheld the long-wished-for ocean.. 737 8 B B EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. He fell on his knees and thanked God. The Spaniards then descended to the shore, and named the bay San Miguel, for the ocean was reached (exactly to this day of writing 369 years ago) on the 29th of Sep- tember, 1 5 13. Tidings of the discovery were at once sent to Spain. The ocean was called the South Sea. Yet Nunez got no reward. His re- compense was the sword of the public execu- tioner. But, his successor could find no passage across the continent for vessels. The Isthmus of Darien was the easiest line of communication, and attempts were made to utilize it ; but they failed, and the un- dertaking was abandoned. Thus the " Sea of Pitchy Darkness " was brought to light ; but prior to 15 19, no ad- venturer had been sufficiently bold to explore it. Ships had indeed sailed upon it, coasting along the continent ; but no one had launched out to explore it in its length, and find a strait from ocean to ocean. This success was reserved for Fernando Magalhaens, or Magellan as the French called him. Fernando Magalhaens. The birthplace of the first circumnavigator of the world is doubtful. It may, however, be accepted that he was born at Villa de Sabroza, in the district of Villa Real, in Por- tugal.* He was of good family ; and a man of considerable aftainments, who had seen service in the East. Pope Alexander had assigned all the newly-discovered territories to the west of Ferro, in the Canaries, to the Spaniards ; and all to the eastward to the Portuguese ; and Spain continued to extend her conquests and cruelties ; while Da Gama doubled the Cape, nnd the Portuguese sailed up the eastern coast, reaching Calicut and the Moluccas. The Duke of Albuquerque was then Viceroy of the Indian possessions of the Portuguese ; and in his suite was Magellan, who had studied geography and navigation. From the Indies he returned to Lisbon ; and while endeavouring to obtain preferment he still studied geography and the maps of the world. He was permitted to see all the charts.; and it is stated by Pigafetta, that while thus occupied he came across a chart made by Martin Boheim, a celebrated geo- grapher, in which the strait which now bears the name of Magellan is marked. But this statement is unsupported by more recent investigations ; and if he did see the strait indicated, he placed no reliance upon the fact, because at the time of Boheim the Pacific Ocean had not been discovered. Magellan sought advancement at the hands of the King of Portugal ; but he did not * So stated in his will executed at Lisbon in 1504. — See " Hakluyt Society's Publications." "choose to hear him," nor would he coun- tenance the projected plan of exploration of the geographer. The Court of Portugal thus declined to accept the offer of the services of Magellan ; and lost the honour of the cir- cumnavigation of the globe as they had lost the honour of the discoveries of Columbus. Magellan therefore threw off his allegiance to the King of Portugal, and proceeded to Spain to offer his services to the Emperor Charles V. He was accompanied in his expedition by the astrologer Ruy Falero ; and they sought the Emperor at Valladolid. Charles V, listened to the proposals Magellan and his friend submitted to him, and became convinced of his sincerity. Cardinal Ximines, the Prime Minister, paid particular attention to Magellan when the latter demonstrated that the country he desired to explore was really within the line of demarcation per- mitted by the Pope. But the agents of the King of Portugal did all they could to thwart the designs of Magellan. Discussions arose as to the legality of the Spanish attempts ; nevertheless Charles V. was satisfied that he was within his rights, and he acquiesced in Magellan's proposals. The Agreement with Spain. Articles of agreement were accordingly drawn up with the Emperor, who was strongly supported by his nobles. These articles are dated 1518, quite a twelvemonth previous to the actual sailing of the expedition, which was probably delayed by Portuguese intrigues, that at one time threatened the life of Magellan himself It was agreed that the navigators (Magel- lan and Falero) should sail to the Moluccas Avestward, and enjoy a ten years' monopoly of the track they explored. They were to receive one-twentieth part of the revenue and profits arising from their discoveries after paying necessary expenses. Magellan was also to be deemed Adelantado, and he and his heirs were to retain the possessorship of any islands he discovered. Five vessels were arranged for — viz., two ships, or " cara- vels," of 130 tons, two of 90 tons, and one of 60. The vessels were to be victualled for two years, and to carry crews amounting to - 234 men. This agreement was concluded at Sara- gossa, and the final orders were given at Barcelona on the 19th of April, 1519. (The first document is dated Valladolid, 22nd March, 15 18.) These five vessels were named the Trinidad, San Antonio, Vittoria, Concepcion, and Santiago. Magellan com- manded the expedition in the Trinidad, Luis de Mendoza was captain of the Vittoria. The San Antotiio was captained by Don Juan de Carthagena ; the Santiago by Don 738 MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. Serrano ; and the Concepcion by Caspar de Ouixhada. The commander took several of his own countrymen in his vessel, for they were experienced navigators. Even while the arrangements were being completed, the King of Portugal did all in his power to induce Magellan to return to him, and abandon the rival country, but in vain. After the treatment he had received, Fernando was not inclined to put himself into his sovereign's power, and he remained firm. The course decided upon was laid down as follows : — "Straight from Cape Frio, Brazil remaining on their right hand until they reached the line of demarcation ; from thence theyare to navigate west and west-north-west, straight to Maluca. . . . From this Cape Frio until the islands of Maluca, there are no lands laid down in the maps they carry with them. Please God the Almighty that they may make such a voyage as did the Cortereals ; and that Your Highness may be at rest and for ever be envied, as you are, by all princes." * The Departure of the Expedition. M agellan reached Seville upon the 20th of October, 15 18; and on Wednesday, August loth, 1 5 19, he sailed thence upon his ever memorable voyage round the world. The ships remained outside, however, until the 2 1 St of September, and then steering south, they reached the Cape de Verd Islands on the 3rd of October. They then fell into the " Doldrums," a zone of calms, and remained for a long time (two months) drifting upon the glassy sea, experiencing " dead calms with rain," says the narrator. Sharks came alongside, and many were captured in calm weather. During the squalls subsequently encountered, St. Elmo's Fire frequently appeared upon the ships, and this was wel- comed as a prosperous omen. The vessels crossed the line, and steering south-south-west, made for the coast of Brazil, and obtained abundant supplies from the natives of the neighbourhood. The value of the playing cards was immense ; for a King of Spades the Spaniards obtained half-a-dozen fowls, and the native flattered himself he had gained the best of the bargain after all, by which a knave might have largely benefited. Rio Janeiro was reached upon St. Lucy's Day, 13th of December, and the heat caused much inconvenience. Many amusing details are given of the costume and manners of the natives. After a stay of thirteen days, the Admiral coasted farther, and reached a "large river of fresh water," which is probably the Rio de la Plata. The inhabitants of that district appeared to be cannibals, and one native is described " First Voyage round the World," Hakluyt Society. as of gigantic size, and bellowing like a bull. He came down to instil confidence into his friends, and to alarm the Spaniards. They landed, however, and endeavoured to capture this Goliath of Brazil ; but the speed at which he and his friends ran away, rendered pursuit vain. Magellan stopped at two islands, the Isle of Penguins and the Isle of Lions, where a number of black geese were captured, as well as some seals, which the navigators called " sea- wolves. They are minutely described, and are what we term sea-bears. On Easter Eve the fleet reached St. Julian; and as winter was approaching, Magellan determined to remain there. He accordingly cast anchor, and stayed five months in that port. For two months the fleet remained at San Julian without any incident occurring at all worthy of mention. But one day a man of gigantic stature appeared. The heads of the explorers only reached to his waist. His clothing was made of the skin of the guanaco, which is described as having the " head and ears of a mule, the body of a camel, the legs of a stag, and the tail of a horse." The giant wore a kind of short shoe, and this gave his feet the appearance of the bear's paw. For this reason Magellan named the people "Patagonians," or clumsy-footed (Patagones). Here the first convert was made, the in- dividual also being of enormous stature. He was taught the Lord's Prayer, and subse- quently was baptized by the name of John, but very little was afterwards seen of him. The medical practice of these natives was very simple, yet apparently effective. If they suffered from what we may now term a bilious attack, they simply thrust an arrow down the throat of the afflicted one, to serve as an emetic ; or gashed their foreheads when they had an headache, which we hope was seldom. They cut themselves wherever they felt pain, and let blood. These and other interesting particulars are given in the chro- nicles of the voyage, but it is not necessary to reproduce them all here. Mutiny at San Julian. A very untoward incident occurred during the stay of the vessels at this port. Three of the captains mutinied against Magellan. They were Spanish officers, and jealous of the authority invested in the Commander-in- Chief. A Portuguese, Luis de Mendoza, was the ringleader of this mutiny ; the other three malcontents were Juan of Carthagena, Antonia Cocea, and Caspar de Casada, or Ouixhada. The ringleader was stabbed while he was reading a letter on his own quarter- deck. Magellan sent him this note, and^, while reading the communication, the Admi- ral's orders were carried out, and Mendoia was assassinated, or executed. 739 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Juan is reported to have suffered terribly, being flayed alive ; and Caspar, Pigafetta says, was put ashore destitute, and left to the mercy of the natives ; * but from other evidence it would appear that Caspar, the Captain of the Concepcion, was decapitated and quartered. The prompt and severe measures taken by the Admiral had a good effect, and the mutiny was quelled. Another misfortune, and one not so easily remedied, here befell the expedition. The Santiago, commanded by Juan Serrano, was sent upon a surveying cruise, and while en- gaged in their very necessary duty was cast upon the rocks. All the men, however, were saved, and two even travelled overland to acquaint the Captain-Ceneralwith the disaster that had occurred. A great deal of energy and determination were displayed by the men under the cir- cumstances. The wreck occurred nearly a hundred miles from St. Julian ; and though the men and officers of the wrecked ship remained two months on the spot, collecting the timbers and merchandize that was con- tinually being washed ashore, Magellan kept them supplied, at that distance from his base, by land along a very bad road, and one infested with thickets and briars, in a hostile country, with no other beverage for the bearer of the provisions but the ice he could break and melt. There was some solid stuff amongst these explorers. Some attempts had been previously made by the Spaniards to capture two or three Patagonians in order to carry them to Spain; but though treachery was employed, and craft opposed to native confidence, this attempt failed even on land, for the men and women ran away so speedily that they escaped even the bullets sent after them. But they were afterwards successful in keeping two natives. One of the Spaniards was hit by a poisoned arrow and died, on the first expedition. On the 24th of August, tlie expedition sailed from San Julian; and after sailing along the coast for some distance, a "river of fresh water " was found, which was called Santa Cruz. It was so named because it was entered upon the 14th of September, the day of the exaltation of the Cross. There, owing to a strong wind and rough water, the whole squadron very nearly came to grief. But " owing to God and to the Corpora Sancta, the fire which burned upon the mast," says the chronicler, they all arrived safely. In this place they passed nearly two months, laying in wood and water and pro- visions; and on the 21st of October, Magellan again sailed away, and discovered a strait * Pigafetta says, that when Gomez, commander of the Sa7i Aiiio?iio, deserted Magellan in the Straits, he returned and picked up Caspar and the priest his accomphce, and carried them home to Spain. called the " Strait of the Eleven Thousand Virgins," which proved to be the great object of the expedition. The Straits of Magellan. The Cape of the Virgins had been first sighted, and just beyond it Magellan found , the bay, as he termed it. The Vittoria was the first vessel to perceive it ; and sailing along the coast for a time, the Admiral determined to anchor within the entrance of the bay. The crews were all firmly persuaded that the Strait had no western entrance, and there was little disposition amongst the majority to explore it. But Magellan and the bolder spirits were firm. Two ships were sent in to see whether any opening existed beyond ; the Trinidad and Vittoria remained at anchor at the mouth of the bay. Pigafetta, in his narrative of the voyage, — he was onboard the Trinidad, — mentions that Magellan was quite aware of the existence of the Channel from an inspection of Boheim's maps. He was determined to make the attempt, though the forbidding nature of the surroundings, the lofty mountains which en- close it being covered withsnow,and thewater very deep, with frequent storms, did not tend to raise the spirits of any of the crews. The Strait of Magellan quickly gave the explorers a test of its quality. Scarcely had the vessels proceeded upon their expedition when a tremendous hurricane arose, and compelled the Trinidad and Vittoria to run before it,, " at the mercy of the winds and waves in the gulph.'' The hurricane continued for thirty- six hours, and although in imminent danger, no damage was caused to the vessels. Indeed the tempest in one sense was advantageous. The storm which had forced Magellan to leave his anchorage had been equally un- sparing with the vessels farther in. They had to run before the gale, and every moment the crews fancied they would be dashed against the rocks at the sides, or, at any rate, wrecked at the end, for they fancied the bay was a cut de sac. But as the hurricane drove them onward to the threatening coast ahead, the pilots began to discover that openings existed in these ' terrible precipices. A small inlet into which they ran, carried them, with the roughly-following wind, into a second channel, and then into another bay, and by a channel to a third bay, larger than the preceding. Nearly two days had already passed, and the commanders of the surveying ships, finding the tempest was blowing itself out, determined to return and report progress to the Admiral at the entrance of the channel. Meantime, Magellan had been somewhat anxious concerning the safety of his vessels. The shore was closely scanned, and the bay searched for traces of the missing ships, but 740 MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. in vain. They were almost given up, when some smoke was observed, and the Admiral, believing it arose from a fire made by his distressed men, immediately advanced. While thus making for the smoke, to the great joy of all on board the Admiral's ships, the two missing vessels were seen approach- ing, with bunting displayed. So soon as they came near, guns were fired and replied to, with every demonstration of joy. The meeting was a very joyful one, and Magellan heard with much satisfaction, the report of his cruising captains. They named the smoking land Tierra del Fitego. The ships thus united, made the best of their way into the channels already dis- covered. When the third bay, from which the two pioneer ships had turned back, had been reached and traversed, two more open- ings, or channels, were discovered, — one run- ning south-east, the other south-west. Magellan then sent the Antonio and Con- cepcion forward again, to ascertain whether the channel penetrated to the ocean. Estevan Gomez, or Emmanuel Gomez as Pigafetta calls him, was the pilot of the San Anfo7no, and cherished a deep hatred against Magellan.* When ordered to advance, he clapped on all sail and made off, intending to return to Spain. The captain, Alvaro de Mosquita, a relative of Magellan, who had been appointed to the command after the mutiny at San Julian, was seized and put in irons. Gomez incited the crew. One of the Patagonian giants already captured was on board, and no doubt Gomez anticipated a hearty welcome on his arrival to announce new discoveries. The Passage Completed. The captain of the Concepcion could not conceive what had become of the Antonio, and he waited vainly for his consort. But not finding her, he returned to Magellan and reported progress. Then the Admiral set sail, and with three ships entered the south- westerly channel, and reached the Sardine River, which abounded with those fish. In this (Sardine) river the vessels re- mained four days; and while thus awaiting the return of the Antonio, which had by this time reached the Atlantic again, Magellan despatched a boat to examine a cape, or headland, in front, where he fancied the strait ought to end. The boat, fully equipped, left, and, after a rapid survey, returned with the intelligence that they had examined the cape, and there the channel ended, and beyond it the ocean. "We wept for joy," says the simple chronicler, *" Magellan's appearance at Seville with his plans had thwarted Gomez, who had also proposed to command an expedition. Hence his hatred of Magellan. " and the cape was denominated II Capo Diseado (Wished-for Cape), for in truth we had long wished to see it." Magellan now made every possible effort to find the inissing Antonio. He sent back the Vittofia to the entrance of the channel to erect a signal, and left letters in Hkely places for the lost ship. But no tidings came of it. Other posts and signals were hoisted in prominent places as the three vessels pro- ceeded through the straits, and the islands were likewise visited, but all in vain. There was scarcely any darkness at this time, the nights only lasting three hours while the Spaniards were in the strait, which they called the Strait of the Patagonians. The description of the channel, now so well-known as the Strait of Magellan, is given by the narrator : — " At every half league it contains a safe port, with excellent water, cedar wood, sardines, and a great abundance of shell-fish. . . . Indeed, I do not think the world contains a better strait than this." Thirty-seven .days had been expended in the passage, and Magellan estimated the length to be no leagues. The narrator of the voyage relates that during the passage he learned many words from the captive Patagonian on board, whose god was called Setebos, and mentioned by Shakespeare in the "Tempest," a revengeful deity apparently. The Patagonian was subsequently baptised by the name of Paul. The diary of the voyage gives us the princi- pal dates as follows : — Sailed from Seville August lo, 1519. Arrived at Teneriffe October 3, „ Arrived at Rio Janerio Dec. 13, „ Sailed from R'o Dec. 26, „ Sailed from Rio dela Plata February 2, 1520 Arrived at San Julian March 31, „ Sailed from Port San Julian August 24, „ Sailed from Santa Cruz October 18, „ Arrived at the entrance of the Patagonian Strait October 21, „ San Antonio missing November „ Arrival at the Cape of Desire Nov. 28. „ We now enter upon another portion of this famous voyage, and one no less interesting than that already related. Discoveries in the Pacific. On Wednesday, 28th of November, 1520, the squadron entered the calm waters of the great sea to the westward of the strait. This apparently boundless expanse of ocean the Spaniards named the Pacific, a name it has always since retained, notwithstanding that travellers will find it occasionally little de- serving of the title. As soon as the Straits had been cleared the admiral made sail in a northerly direction in order to reach a milder climate for the 741 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. approaching winter ; and in the Pacific the expedition sailed for three months and twenty days without tasting any fresh provisions. The sufferings of the Spaniards at this time were very great. Worms had consumed nearly all the biscuit, nothing but dust re- mained. The water was " putrid and offensive," and so reduced were these brave navigators that to keep body and soul together they were obliged to gnaw the leather with which the mainyard was covered. This, after being soaked in water for days, was eaten with avidity, while meantime saw-dust, varied with a dinner of mice, was the only food the explorers could command. Mice were actually caught and put up to auction, and such was the demand for even this food that a mouse sold for half a ducat. In addition to the pangs of hunger and thirst, the terrible scurvy made its appearance. The disease is minutely described by the chronicler ; and he reports that nineteen of the Trinidad's men succumbed to it. The Patagonian also died from it, and nearly forty men beside were attacked, but recovered eventually. Pigafetta himself had not one day's illness. Fortunately the weather continued fine, and the ocean deserved its baptismal name. During the period the ships sailed nearly four thousand leagues, passing from the Straits north westward, outside Queen Ade- laide's archipelago, as now laid down on our maps. Thence towards Juan Fernandez, immortalized by Selkirk and De Foe, to the tropic of Cancer. Then the voyage was con- tinued in a more westerly direction, until the 24th of January, 1521, when they saw distant land, which soon proved to be an island. Here they buried the Patagonian, and called the islet St. Pablo. On the 4th of February the vessels sighted the Tibourones (or Shark) Islands, and called the " Unfortunate Isles" also. From calcu- lations with the log, it was found that the ships ran about seventy leagues a day ; and the writer says, " I do not think any one will in future venture upon a similar voyage."* The Southern Cross was discovered on this expe- dition, and mentioned by the explorers. The Ladrone Islands. After crossing the line, Magellan steered west by north, and changed afterwards, still keeping westerly until, on the 6th of March, (Wednesday) three islands were disco-vered. The first seen was the " most lotty and the largest, as may be expected, considering it was perceived soonest. Here the Captain-General wished to re- victual, and endeavoured to obtain fresh provisions; but any long stay was impossible, * Fifty years later Sir Francis Drake ventured. He was the first after Magellan to make the circuit. because the natives came on board and stole everything they could carry away, including the " dingy," which was fastened astern. The natives came off in canoes, and are described as handsome and of olive-brown complexion. The Spaniards called the islands the Ladrones, or Thieves, out of compliment to the inherent propensities of the inhabitants. But when the dingy or skiff disappeared, Magellan determined to take revenge. He landed with a force of ninety men, and burnt a number of the native huts, plundering them first. The natives were perfectly astonished at this cruel retaliation. They had no idea of fire, and fancied it was a strange animal which devoured the wood.* However, they suffered greatly; and when the Spaniards shot arrows at them, they excited pity even in the Spanish heart by their futile and painful attempts to draw the barbs from their bodies. But the unwounded men attacked the explorers with stones vigorously. The natives are described as ignorant o; any laws, and are all guided merely by their own inclinations. They had no king nor any chief, and worship no gods. They wore small hats but no other clothing; but the people " generally are of good size and well built." The women are described as pretty and less dark than the men. They wore clothing of a primitive kind, and their hair also afforded them a certain protection, for it is described as being very long and trailing on the ground. A lengthened description is given in the original narratives of the voyage of the inhabi- tants of these islands. Their curiosity was excessive, and their pilfering propensities have already been mentioned. The islanders were apparently under the impression up to the time of Magellan's arrival that there were'no other people in the world besides themselves. Sailing from the Ladrones, the ships came in sight of a " high island," some three hundred leagues distant from the " Thieves' Isles." This island they called Zamal ; it is now included under the name of Samar amongst the Philippines. Next day they arrived at an uninhabited isle, which they called Humunu, where abundant supplies of water were found, and the sick were accom- modated in tents, and fresh meat, probably brought from the Ladrones, was supplied to them. The Spaniards and the Natives. While thus resting ashore, a native boat was one day observed approaching. It con- tained a crew of nine men, and very strict orders were given by Magellan respecting the conduct and movements of his men. The strangers seemed very pleased to see the new-comers, and friendly relations were immediately established between the natives * Le Goben, " History of the Ladrones." 742 MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. and Europeans. Magellan gave them many- presents, and food and drink were also supplied. Such gifts as looking-glasses, bells, and small red caps, were highly- appreciated by the natives. The islanders on their side were not to be outdone in politeness. They presented the Spaniards with fish and other simple food, with a kind of wine made from the palm (cocoa-.nut) called Uraca. There were also fruits in abundance, bananas and " cochos," or cocoa-nuts. The cocoa-nut palm seemed sufficient for nearly all the requirements of the natives. It supplied them with bread, oil, wine, vinegar, and medicine. Two of these trees, says the narrator of the incident, can maintain a family of ten persons ; but they do not draw wine always from one tree. They draw one for eight or ten days, and then go to another. i3y this treatment the palms " last one hundred years." • The natives of the neighbouring island who had come over got very friendly, and were so agreeable that the Captain-General took them on board his ships and showed them his stores and weapons of offence. He treated them to a salvo of artillery, and thereby scared them nearly into the sea. But all continued in harmony, and good-will was everywhere apparent. The natives who had gone away promising to return with sup- plies, now came back with boats laden with fruit, and the Spaniards purchased all they brought. The expedition remained at these islands eight days for the benefit of the sick. It was here that the historian of the voyage, Pigafetta, fell overboard; and had he not fortunately seized the main-sheet he would have been drowned. " I was assisted," he writes, " not by my merits, but by the mercy and grace of the Fountain of Pity." The island was called the Watering-place of Good Signs, and the ships did not leiwe it until the 25th of March. The Voyage Continued. On the following Thursday evening, the crews descried a fire upon an island ; and next morning they came to an anchor near the land. No sooner had the ships brought up, than a native boat put out from shore and paddled towards the Trinidad; but when the crew of the canoe caught sight of the Spaniards they withdrew again, and were afraid to come on board. However, the Captain hung out a red cap, which had the contrary effect to that it has upon the bovine species. The natives came alongside again, and then went ashore to tell their prince what they had seen and received. A few hours afterwards two large boats came out, each full of men. In one of these sat the King under an awning, and a conver- sation was commenced with His Majesty through the interpretation of a Sumatran slave, who happened to be on board the Spanish flag-ship. The European comman- der made presents to all who came on board his vessel; but the King would not come. He wished Magellan to accept some handsoine gifts, but the Admiral would not do so. Next day, however, an interchange of courtesies took place. Magellan next morning (Good Friday) sent his Sumatran slave to the King as an interpreter, requesting provisions, for which he stated himself as ready and willing to pay, and expressing a wish to become his friend, for he had no hostile intentions. This message pleased the King very much, and he immediately ordered his boat and came out to the ships. Without showing any signs of fear he boarded the Trinidad, and embraced Magellan, giving him at the same time some fresh provisions and fish. The Spanish Admiral then determined to show the native potentate what he could do, and by way of striking a wholesome terror into him, he caused a soldier to be clad in armour, and putting him on deck, told his comrades to strike at him with their swords and daggers. The effect on the King and his men was very great. When the big guns were fired also, the astonishment of the simple people knew no bounds. The Spanish com.mander took care to inform the King that his own single soldier in armour was worth quite a hundred of the natives. To this assertion the King assented ; and Magellan then showed him two hundred in each ship also clad in similar armour. The swords, helmets, and cuirasses were then exhibited; and a small "assault of arms" arranged for the royal visitor, who ■was greatly impressed with all he saw and heard. It was then agreed that two of the Spaniards should accompany the King ashore ; and Pigafetta, the historian, was one of the two selected. After signs of amity had passed between them by raising hands to the sky, the King took the Europeans by the hand, and led them into his boat, which was moored in a place " covered with canes." In this canoe, or " ballanghai," the strangers sat conversing by signs, and by means of the interpreter, until refreshments in the shape of " pig's flesh and wine " appeared. The fashion of eating is curious, and may be described. When they drink, the people raise their hands to heaven, and take the drinking vessel in the right hand, and extend the left hand closed before the people. " This the King did," says Pigafetta, "and presented to me his fist, so that I. thought he wanted to strike me." 743 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. But the savage inhabitants had no ill-inten- tions towards their white visitors. Magellan appears to have endeavoured to treat the people fairly, and by gentle means to have gained their confidence. The Spaniards appeared pleased with their reception, and they supped with the King. Afterwards they went to the palace, which is described as a hay-loft, covered with fig and plantain leaves, built high off the ground, so that " steps and ladders " were found convenient, and by means of these the party entered. The Manners and Customs of the Natives. It is worthy of remark that though these islanders had never heard of Christianity, they made the sign of the cross at their meals ; and it is also curious that their god to whom they prayed should have been known as Abba, which is the term used for " Father " in our Bibles. Magellan en- deavoured to develop their religious feel- ings, for he caused a cross to be erected, and made all his men bow down before it in the presence of the King. The monarch looked upon the banner of the cross as a charm against thunder and lightning, and willingly consented to have it erected at the top of a hill as a greater security. The entertainment at the "palace" was of an extremely hospitable, but nevertheless limited, nature. Fish, with sauce and rice, appear to have been the chief constituents of the banquet ; and when the King retired for the night, he left his son to entertain the visitors, who were next morning sent for by the Admiral. The King's brother, the ruler of another island close by, also came on board, and the Spaniards made him presents too, and had the honour of his company at dinner. The simple-minded natives were very much impressed by seeing the Spaniards write ; and still more when they perceived that they could read what they had written ; but even in later times it is not given to everybody to read their own writing. This latter attribute of the strange beings who had reached the island seems to have puzzled the natives very much. The King of the neighbouring island ap- pears to have been of a very liberal turn of mind. He possessed much gold, some nug- gets being as large as hens' eggs ; and these munificent gifts he pressed upon the voya- gers. He was a very good-looking man, of olive complexion, and perfumed with native oils and fat, which no doubt rendered him a most agreeable personage. He wore gold rings in his ears, and metal rings upon his fingers ; a sword was girt about him ; and so rich was he that "a crown of massy gold was offered in exchange for six strings of glass beads ; " but we are informed that Magellan would not permit such one-sided transactions. These kings of the islands were lords of the district. One governed the island of Butuan, the other Calaghan or Caragua. The names of these kind-hearted natives were Raia Calambu and Raia Siani ; the former was the perfumed monarch, the latter the first friend of the explorers. It was on Easter Day that the religious observances were practised ; and after dinner on that anniversary the Admiral inquired of the kings concerning his future course and means of soon obtaining supplies. He was informed that there were three places or ports where he could find supplies ; and these were Ceylon (or Leyte), Zzubu (or Sebu), and Calaghan, which last sounds Hibernian. The King willingly lent the Spanish commander his pilots to see them safely on the way ; and his brother monarch volunteered to accompany the expedition if the Admiral would wait until he had got in his rice crop. This Magellan consented to do. After the expiration of the time necessary to gather the rice, the vessels weighed anchor ; and, conducted by the royal pilots, the Spaniards passed Ceylon, Calaghan, etc. in safety. In one place they found dogs, cats, hogs, and poultry, and many kinds of grain, with abundance of gold. Some un- known fowls were killed and eaten ; and " there are certain large birds as large as a fowl with a long tail." Arrival at Zebu. It was on Sunday, the 7th of April, that the vessels cast anchor off Zebu, where houses built upon trees seemed the commonest objects of the shore. The sails were dropped, and the loud-voiced artillery fired as a salute ; but it had a great effect upon the barbarians, who were however assured that this custom was always observed by civilized nations as a token of friendship and respect. This ex- planation satisfied the King, who, with all his court, had been greatly frightened at the discharge of the guns. A conversation then ensued, and the inter- preter assured the monarch that the Spaniards only desired peace and trade. The King replied that they were very welcome, but at the same time gave the interpreter to under- stand that it was customary to pay tribute ; and instanced a ship of Siam which had paid it, and left a merchant to trade. So he hoped the Spaniards would be equally complaisant. Magellan, through his man, replied that it was quite impossible that he as the repre- sentative of the greatest king in the world should even think of paying any tribute. If the King of Zebu wanted peace he could have it. 744 MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. 745 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. If war, they were equally at his disposal ; but payment of tribute was entirely out of the ques- tion. The Siamese merchant hereupon warned the King to be careful ; for, said he, " these people are one of those who have conquered Calicut, Malacca, and all Greater India; and if you entertain them well, and treat them well, you will find yourself the better for it ; but if ill, it will be all the worse for you." These considerations, added to the judicious advice of the interpreter, had a considerable effect upon the King. But his dignity would not permit him to give way all at once. He would consult with his council, he said, and upon their advice he would act in the morning. Meantime he sent some food and a conside- rable quantity of wine, which was accepted by the visitors. Next morning the clerk went with the interpreter to hear the decision at which the monarch had arrived. In the open space or " square " the King appeared, and seemed anxious to know whether he should have to pay tribute. But the Spaniards re-assured him upon that point — that trade only was required by the visitors; whereat the King was content, and hinted that presents were custo- mary both on his side and on that of strangers. Whereupon the clerk very judiciously replied that the King, knowing the customs, had better set the example in this matter, and no doubt the Admiral would immediately reciprocate. Progress of the Negotiations. Thus the palavers went on ; and on the following day the King of Mazzagua and a Moor who had came to the King of Sebu, arrived onboard, and announced thepresents from the King. The gift would be accom- panied by a number of the people, so the Admiral judged it advisable to make a little display of force, and armed a few of his men. Even the merchant — the Moor aforesaid — was astonished at the display ; and when he was reassured, he returned to the King to tell him all the facts. After dinner the prince, — nephew of the King, — the Moor, the governor, and "chief of the police, " with several of the principal inhabi- tants, came out to the" ship, where the Admiral was sitting in great state, surrounded by his officers, and altogether making an imposing ap- pearance. The embassy came, and was much impressed. Magellan then spoke to them of peace, and the advantages that would accrue to them if it were continued. From the lesser questions he proceeded to the greater, and enlarged upon the Christian virtue of peace and the benefits of Christianity gene- rally. The natives listened with much pleasure, and were almost induced to become converts to the Spanish tenets. Magellan, finding that his arguments influenced the people, continued his address; and so willingly did the people accept his instruction, that they requested Magellan to leave some men behind him on the island to teach them his religion. Now the Admiral was scarcely prepared to do this, though the people assured him the men would be well treated ; but he offered to permit the priest to baptize them, and to send his teachers to instruct them while he remained at the island. The men only demanded permission to inform the king; and all those present shed tears to think of the great success which had attended the exhor- tations of the Admiral. He then continued to address them, showing them that they were not to become Christians through fear or favour, but because they were willing to embrace the laws of the Supreme Being whom the Spaniards worshipped. The gentle natives replied that they were the Admiral's servants, and he might do with them as he pleased. A definite treaty of peace was then entered into. Magellan embraced the prince and the King, assuring them of his friendship and affection. He swore to them a perpetual peace, and then, this very satisfactory ar- rangement made, refreshments were served up, large presents were made by the prince and the King of Mazzara, who apologized for the insufficiency of the gifts, Magellan re- sponded, and gave them fine cloth red caps, and a quantity of glass, which was very highly prized, with numbers of beads, and gilt glass cups. The same kind of present was sent into the town to the King, who was seated in his palace in the costume of the country. The arrangements which had been made were then explained to him, and after a repast with the prince, the Spaniards who had come on shore took leave of the royal family and returned to the ship. Thus trade was established, and merchan- dise was soon carried on shore. For many days the vessels remained at the island, and finding there was still a disposition on the part of the islanders to become Christians, Magellan determined to have a regular service and baptise those who would leave their idols and worship the rehgion of the Cross. The King had promised to become a Christian on Sunday, and the preparations were quickly made. Conversion of the Natives. On that Sunday morning, the 14th of April, the Admiral went ashore, accompanied by his guard, with colours flying, and saluted with salvos of artillery. The Commander and the King embraced, and then seated themselves on chairs under the canopy, while the principal personages squatted upon the ground or upon mats. Then Magellan MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. carefully explained the simplest rites of the Church, enjoining prayer, and showing the King how he was to pray and make the sign of the Cross. The King and his people soon learnt all the necessary forms, and then the ceremony of baptism was commenced. The Captain took the King by the hand, and named him Don Carlos; and equally noble names were given to the other royal and less noble people, including the Moorish mer- chant, who was called Christopher. All the people — quite fifty — were baptised in a very short time, each receiving the name he most fancied. The mass was celebrated; then the King returned to his palace, refusing Magellan's invitation to dinner. Subsequently the Queen of the island and her ladies were also baptised. There were forty attendants. She was named Jehanne, after the Emperor's mother ; the Prince's wife was called Catherine, and so on; the rest as they pleased were named in turn. In all that day were baptised eight hundred people; and the Queen Isegged an image of the Infant Jesus to put in the place of the idol she had. The town was afterwards called the " City of Jesus " from this figure. Entire unanimity reigned amongst the people and their European visitors, and in the course of the eight days following, the natives of that island, and of that adjacent, were baptised Christians. It is stated that in one of the neighbouring islands Magellan burned a village because the inhabitants would not become Christians. This seems an unnecessary, cruel, and certainly an un- Christian-like measure for a man professing peace to adopt. But according to the nar- ratives of the time, the village was certainly destroyed, A Miracle Performed. Magellan had performed what is termed a " miracle ; " and however the manner in which it is regarded, it certainly appears extraordinary, if the truth of the narrative be accepted. The Spaniards had enjoined the people to burn all their idols, and many did so, but still many others clung to them, and made offerings to them. A very influential man in the island being ill, Magellan said that if he would believe he would be cured ; and so full of faith was the SpanishCommander, that he declared he would be content to stake his head upon the result ; and the attempt was made. The man was certainly very ill. He had not spoken for several days, and every one believed he was on the point of death. He consented to be baptised, "with two of his wives and ten girls. The Commander then inquired how he felt, and, to the astonish- ment of all, he at once replied, " By the grace of our Lord he was well enough." This utterance was regarded as a miracle; and when some medicines had been administere^l, he speedily recovered. We give the narrative as it appears ; but there is rather a suspicious flavour about it : Magellan may have used his influence to enact a "pious fraud" to bring the remainder of the inhabitants under the Christian dis- pensation. The very "pat" reply of the sick man may have been that of the inter- preter; but the result of the "miracle" was immediate, and many natives more were baptised. The idols were thrown down and burned; the natives themselves joining in the demolition, shouting " Castile ! Castile ! " The people of the island appear to have been honest in their dealings, using weights and measures. There are many curious customs related of them, and many supersti- tions, but these need not be here set down. The Spaniards made a " very good thing " of their trade here, exchanging iron for gold in considerable quantities, and obtaining abun- dance of provisions for mere trifles. But a sad ending of these happy arrangements was at hand. The Dispute at Mat an. The Rajahs, or rulers, had become quite pleasant, and even submissive. Mazzagua and Zebu were willing to pay tribute through their kings ; and everything was made plea- sant for the Spaniards, who were plentifully supplied with provisions, and treated with great hospitality when they first came on shore. News also came to Magellan that the Moluccas, which he had a great wish to find, and in which he really had come in search, were not very far to the south. So under all the circumstances his prospects were good, and a reward was opening to him in the future. The island of Matan is close to Zebu, and its capital is the same name as the island. Close by was the village burnt by Magellan ; and, trilDute having been extorted, Zula, one of the chiefs, sent his son with some goats to the commander of the expedition, saying, that if there were any failure in the tribute from the island it was not his (Zula's) fault, but that of the other chief, who declined to acknowledge the authority of the King of Spain. He added that if Magellan would send him assistance to subdue his rival, the whole island would thenceforth be tributary to the Spaniards. Under these circumstances Magellan de- termined to send three boats' crews to the rescue of the loyal chief; and, moreover, made up his mind to lead the expedition himself. His followers endeavoured to dis- suade him ; but he replied that a good pastor ought not to be away from his flock, 747 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. and the arrangements were proceeded with accordingly. At midnight the boats quitted the ships with an armed crew of sixty men. The King of the island, with the Prince his nephew, several chiefs, and a number of warriors, accompanied the Europeans to the wished- for conquest of Matan. Three hours before daylight the boats reached the island ; and then Magellan would not begin the engage- tnent, but sent the Moorish merchant ashore with a message to inform the rebellious chief that if he would consent thenceforward to acknowledge the King of Spain, and obey the Christian King of Zebu, and pay tribute, all would be well. If not, he would be at- tacked, and experience the strength of the Spanish lances. This message was delivered with all solem- nity ; but did not have the deterrent effect the Spanish Admiral anticipated. The de- fiant answer came back to the effect that the islanders had lances as well as the strangers. The natives with some craft added a request that the enemy would not attack them during the night as they expected reinforcements ; and if the Spaniards would wait until day- light the engagement would take place upon a more equal footing. This suggestion was thrown out to induce the Spanish commander to attack at once ; for pits had been dug, and the islanders hoped that in the darkness the attacking force would be caught in these dykes and pitfalls. But the chivalrous Magellan ac- cepted the message in good faith, and awaited daylight. The landing was then commenced ; but the water being very shal- low, the invaders hnd to leave their boats at some little distance from the shore, and wade to land. The Attack on the Island. Forty-nine Spaniards landed, the remainder staying with the boats, and found the islanders, fifteen hundred in number, drawn up in three lines or battalions to resist the landing. Immediately the Spaniards came within range, the natives set up a horrible shouting ; and opening their ranks, two of the battalions attacked the small Spanish force in flank, and the third in front. Ma- gellan divided his men into two platoons, and the engagement became general. All this time the Zebu islanders had not come up; and it seems that Mngellan requested the King and his men to remain in their canoes in crJer to witness the engagement, and the anticipated triumph of the Spanish soldiers. The European troops kept up a continuous fire for quite half an hour without making any impression upon the thick ranks of the natives. The bullets and arrows indeed penetrated their wooden shields, but being fired from a distance, they did not do much harm. The natives quite expected to be killed outright by the strange weapons, and when they found that they were only slightly wounded, began to despise the great enemy, and became more and more determined and courageous. Besides, the numbers were so irnmensely disproportionate that they believed they could easily overcome the small Spanish contingent, and so they continued to shower darts and spears at the soldiers to such an extent that the Spaniards with great difficulty protected themselves and were unable to continue the attack. The larger guns in the boats could not be brought to bear, and the result of the engagement began to look very doubtful. Magellan, however, was quite cool ; and in order to distract the attention of the islanders, he sent some of his men to burn the village, which was done. This act only served to increase the animosity of the savages, who detached a party to the village and succeeded in killing two of the Spaniards, while the main body pushed on with more vigour and determination than ever. The fight now was going all against the Spaniards, and Magellan being wounded in the leg by a poisoned arrow, gave orders for a retreat to the boats. He retired slowly, with his men in hand for a time ; but the savages, finding they could not penetrate the Spanish armour, discharged their lances and arrows incessantly at their enemy's legs. This attack proved successful, and the retreat was ordered. Death of Magellan. For more than an hour this unequal contest continued — the Spaniards fighting bravely in the water ; and it seems curious that under the circumstances little or no assistance was rendered by the Zebu warriors. A tremendous rush was made at last, and the natives came on vigorously, picking up their lances as they kept advancing, and throwing them again with great force and accuracy. They knew Magellan, and aimed at him chiefly. Twice was his helmet knocked off, but still, with the small number of men who had not retreated, he remained bravely resistmg the enemy. At length a native succeeded in thrusting his cane lance through the visor of the Commander's helmet, and thus wounded him in the forehead. Magellan lost patience, and with a vigorous spenr-thrust an his assailant through the body. This blow was fatal both to the islander and the Spanish Admiral, for the latter, weakened by wounds, was then unable to withdraw his weapon immediately; and the islanders, or " Indians " as they are termed in the narrative, at once perceiving 748 MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. his helpless condition, came down upon him in a crowd. A violent blow upon the leg caused the unfortunate admiral to fall prone upon his face, and that sealed his fate. The natives rushed in, and dealing him blow after blow, quickly despatched the brave Commander, who had been caring for the safety of his men to the last. Indeed, it was really owing to his fall that the few men remaining with him managed to escape, for they were all grievously wounded. The moment Magellan succumbed, the islanders all rushed to the spot, and left the coast clear for the retreat of the remainder of the Spaniards. " Thus perished our guide, our light, and our support," writes the chronicler. The King of Zebu bewailed the fate of his friend bitterly, and no doubt would have rendered him assistance but for the positive orders of the unfortunate Magellan. " But his glory will survive him ! " "He died. He was adorned with every virtue, and in the midst of the greatest adver- sity he constantly possessed an immovable firmness. At sea he subjected himself to the same privations as his men. Better skilled than any one in the knowledge of nautical charts he was a perfect master of navigation, as he proved in making a tour of the world, — an attempt that none before had ventured." This fatal engagement took place upon the 27th of April, 152 1, a day particularly selected by the Admiral as a lucky one for himself. Eight Spaniards and four converted Indians are said to have perished ; and by this it would seem that the Zebus did offer some assis- tance to their allies. Very few escaped without being wounded. The enemy lost only fifteen men. After the Battle ; Treachery. In the course of the day the King of Zebu sent to the rebellious chieftain a request that he would restore the body of the Spanish commander and soldiers. If so, the natives might have any merchandize they required. But the islanders would not consent to part with their trophies, and the bodies of the admiral and the two men killed in the village remained in the hands of the savages as a "monumenc of victory." The Spaniards then decided to elect a commander in the place of the deceased Admiral, and two men were appointed, viz., Duarte Barbosa, a Portuguese, a relative of Magellan, and Juan Serrano, a Spaniard. The first-named had already voyaged in Indian seas, and was quite competent to command. A difficulty arose almost immediately. The slave Henry, who acted as interpreter, had been slightly wounded in the battle, and was then " nursing himself," considering as he had belonged personally to Magellan, he need not serve any longer, his master's death having freed him. But Barbosa, who commanded Magellan's ship, was of a different opinion, and reminded the man that he was still a slave, so if he refused to perform his duties for the advantage of the fleet he would have him well beaten, and would also carry him home and deliver him to Donna Beatrix (Magellan's widow). Acting upon these gentle hints, the slave consented to go ashore ; but without any apparent resentment he was nursing his vengeance carefully. He sought an audience with the King of Zebu, "the Christian king" as he is called, and proposed to him to revolt and make a bold stroke for all the Spanish merchandize, etc., which he might then seize. The King at once swallowed the glittering bait, a plot was formed, and then the slave returned on board. On the 1st of May, in accordance with the agreement made with the slavish interpreter, the Christian King sent to the commanders of the Spanish ships a message saying that the jewels were ready as promised for tribute, and would they come and fetch them. The commanders with twenty-four men went,, suspecting nothing; but Juan Carvalho turned back again, for something excited his sus- picions. The prince who had been cured took the almoner or priest aside, and put him away in his house from the rest of the party. This incident confirmed or aroused the fears of Carvalho, and he went back at once. But the others proceeded; and the men had hardly returned to the ships when cries and lamentations were heard. The vessels were warped in, and shots discharged at the houses. Then Juan Serrano was perceived being led wounded and bleeding to the beach, and tied hand and foot by the natives. He implored the Spaniards to cease firing or he would be murdered; and when questioned as to what had become of his companions he said that they had all been massacred, and the interpre- ter had sided with the enemy. He implored the commander to ransom him; but this Carvalho refused to do, and would not permit a boat to go ashore. The petition of the unhappy Serrano was disregarded, and the squadron immediately set sail without him, abandoning him cruelly to his fate. But what became of him or how he was treated the narratives of the voyage give no account. Continuation of the Expedition. After quitting Zebu, the Spaniards mustered their men, and found that they had sustained serious losses. In fact, there were not suffi- cient to navigate the three vessels, and so it was determined to burn the Concepcion, and to divide her crew amongst the other two ships, the Trinidad s.nd Vittoria. This was accordingly done. All the merchandize and 749 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. stores were removed from the doomed ship, and then she was destroyed. The squadron proceeded S.S.W., and anchored in a port of Mindanao. Here the Spaniards were well received by the King, and Pigafetta was permitted to see the Queen, who lived by herself in a house on the top of a hill. The palace was handsomely furnished " with vases of porcelain, which were suspended from the sides of the apart- ments." Abundance of gold was seen in the island, and valleys were indicated in which quantities of the precious metal existed, which could not be obtained for want of iron tools, the labour of mining being otherwise too severe. From Mindanao the ships sailed for Borneo (Burnd); and while pursuing the voyage, reached another island called Palaloan, where the crews were furnished with fresh victuals, and became intoxicated with arrack. The people and their king were very friendly, and developed a wonderful taste for brass wire, with which they bind fish-hooks. They kept fighting-cocks, and betted freely upon the birds in their contests ; but whether this custom can be said to be an attribute of savagery may now be regarded as an open question. Some Western nations have since imitated the savages in this respect. Proceeding south west, Borneo wasi-eached, and there an interview with the King was sought and granted. The narrator gives a long description of the reception. The monarch sent his "prahus " for the visitors, and was very friendly toward them. They took him pre- sents of cloth and velvet, glass, and cups. The Queen also received handsome gifts as well as the chiefs. The visitors had to wait some time until the arrival of the elephants which had been sent to convey them to the palace. The- conductors of the elephants carried vases to hold the expected presents; and, preceded by twelve men, the Spaniards roJe on the elephants to the house of the Prune Minister. Then they rested until the next clay, and ap- pear to have been made very comfortable and generally well treated. The Reception at Borneo. Next day the visit was paid to ti e King, but the visitors were not allowed to address them- selves to His Majesty. The opt ration, as we may call it, of gaining the King's ear was very curious, and strongly suggestive of "red tape" and the Circumlocution Office. For instance, the petitiortr must not address the King directly, bul he may in- form a courtier of the stib.^iance of his petition in a general way. The courtier would then communicate with another of higher rank, who would repeat tlie petition to a brother of the Governor. A minister. who was seated in a private apartment, having communicated with the King's officer by means of a sarbacane, in lieu of telephone, the officer in waiting would then inform the King. The " reverence" was performed by making a certain number of inclinations and raising hands above the head, lifting first one leg and then the other. If the petitioner tumbled down we suppose he would be punished, but the Spaniards managed to perform these antics successfully, and were graciously re- ceived ; and during their stay in Borneo they appear to have been royally entertained. The King was a Moor named Raja Surpada, and very corpulent. He never went out of doors except to hunt. On Monday the 29th of July the Spaniards were rather alarmed at perceiving more than a hundred boats in battle array approaching them. Fearing treachery, orders were given to " up anchor;" and the ships set sail, leaving an anchor in their hurry. A number of war- junks also came out, and the Spaniards at once opened fire upon them, taking four and killing a number of men. The rest ran away: some got aground, and the victors found a prince amongst the captives, and much mer- chandize. The junks had been upon an expedition, and had conquered a place in Java, commanded by the King's Captain- General. The monarch professed much regret that his vessels had menaced the Spanish ships, but assured the Commander that they had meant no harm. The pilot, Juan Carvalho, thereupon released the Captain-General with- out consulting his colleagues in consequence of receiving a heavy bribe. The pilot was however punished indirectly, for the King had retained his son as a hostage ; and had he not accepted the bribe and permitted the Captain- General to go free he might have exchanged him for his own son and two other Spaniards. So the pilot lost his son, but retained sixteen of the chief men, and three women, who had been sent on board for the Queen of Spain. The Voyage Continued. When the ships quitted Borneo, the pilots retraced their course, looking for a con- venient place to refit. The voyage was not without its dangers, for the vessels ran upon a sandbank, and with difficulty were got off. A sailor also in snuffing a candle accidentally threw the burning wick into a cask of gun- powder. But, we read, " he was so quick in putting it out, the powder did not catch fire." At length a convenient port was discovered, and at it (Cimboubou) the ships anchored for forty-two days, every one working hard and according to his taste for the benefit of the community, and for the fitting of the 750 MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE. ships. The babyrussa was found here, and one specimen was killed. Crocodiles and turtles were also encountered. The " ani- mated leaves " of certain trees very much surprised the voyagers, and they put some in a box to watch them walking round. * Insects were probably enclosed in those leaves, for the trees are described as a { species of mulberry, and perhaps silk-worms ! and other insects had rolled themselves j within. j A junk was captured when the voyage was j resumed, and the Governor of Pulavan was found on board with his son and brother. He was commanded to pay tribute and ransom himself. He complied in a very generous way, and received presents in ac- knowledgment of his good faith. The captives and the captors parted excellent friends. Discovery of the Moluccas. It would be tiresome to recapitulate all the places visited by the ships in the search for the Moluccas. We will therefore pass by the numerous islands visited, and come j direct to Tadore (or Tidore), where the ex- i pedition was welcomed by the ruler. This i island, and those near it, the Spaniards to their great joy heard were the long sought Moluccas, and a demonstration was made. " Nor will it excite astonishment that we should be elated, when it is considered that we had been at sea now twenty-seven months all but two days, and had visited an infinity of islands in search of those we had now attained." The King assured the Spaniards that he had been warned in a dream of their arrival, and he had then consulted the moon, which con- firmed him in his belief He also professed friendship for the King of Spain, and would be content to be his vassal. In proof of his honesty of purpose, he decided to change the name of the island from Tadore to Castiile, out of compliment to the Spaniards. Nume- rous and handsome presents were exchanged, and peace reigned in the islands. Friendly relations were thus immediately set up, and the narrative of the voyage written by Pigafetta gives minute descriptions of the manners and customs of the natives, and of the Spice Islands, Tarnate, Tadore, Mutir, Marchian, and Bachian. The 'first-men- tioned is the chief, he says, and generally governs the other four, excepting Tadore, which has its own king. The Europeans here heard of a Portuguese, who had been living in the island, and had married the daughter of the King of Tarnate. He had died only a few months previously, and his name was curiously enough Francisco Serrano. Here the Spaniards received presents of * The leaf insect — mantis. some curious birds, now known as Birds of Paradise. The sailors were informed that these birds never fly, but were blown from place to place by the wind. Departure of the Spaniards for Home. At length the time came when the ships had to leave, and orders were given for the passage home. But the Trmidad was found to be so leaky they were obliged to abandon her, and the Vittoria sailed alone to Spain with a crew of forty-seven Europeans, thirteen " Indians," and the pilots of the district. Various ships were attacked en route, and from the Portuguese traders the Spanish Commander took all that he re- quired without asking leave. So the expe- dition proceeded by Java and Sumatra, and steered direct for the Cape. But as Madagascar was reached, a serious mutiny broke out amongst the crew. The men wished to put in and refit, as the con- dition of the Vittoria after so long a voyage was not calculated to resist the weather anticipated in the neighbourhood of the Cape of Storms. But the Commander, hear- ing that the Portuguese were there, did not wish to run any risk with his old rivals, as awkward questions might be asked as to where they had been, and it would never do to permit the Portuguese to know that the once despised Magellan had found the strait by which the world might be sailed around. The officers, therefore, determined to steer for the Cape of Good Hope ; and they suc- ceeded in passing it on the 6th of May, 1522. The men were all suffering terribly. Want of food, and scurvy, despair, and mutinous feelings were rampant in the single ship which carried the decimated survivors of the great expedition. The Cape de Verde Islands were at length reached. And here exhausted nature gave way. The Spaniards put into the Portuguese harbour, trusting to the generosity of their foes, and preferring to risk the sentence of death rather than die of hunger. To what a pitch was the expedition re- duced ! Nearly all the Europeans had died. The gallant leaders had nearly all suc- cumbed, and Sebastian del Cano was in command. The almanac being consulted, informed them that they had lost a day during the voyage round the world. They fancied the date was the 9th of July, when they put into Santiago harbour ; it was really the loth of the month. Sailing west with the sun they naturally lost. We remember in M. Jules Verne's tale, the trip "Around the World in Eighty Days," was made against the sun, and a day was gained. Food was supplied to the starving crew ; and no hint of the result of the voyage would EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. have transpired had not some of the men offered spices in exchange for food. Sus- picion was immediately aroused. They must have visited the Spice Islands, the Mo- luccas, the great end and aim of navigators at home. The Vittoria must be detained. The Commander, however, suspected the Portuguese designs, and cut his cable. The ship cleared out in safety, and all sail was made northward. The Return to Spain. The remainder of the voyage lasted nearly two months ; and Sebastian del Cano, the surviving chief of the expedition, brought the Vittoria, the type of Victory, into the harbour of St. Lucar, on the 6th of Sep- tember, 1522. The voyage round the world had lasted nearly three years. During that period — a long time in any men's lives, but in those days when ships were "cockle-shells" compared with the magnificent vessels now afloat, astonishingly short — they had per- formed wonders. Considering the necessary delays, and the adverse winds on which the vessels were dependent, the voyage of four- teen thousand six hundred leagues of sea was astonishing. Of the crew who had left the Moluccas, but eighteen remained to enter Spain. They landed amid the acclamations of the popu- lace, and walked barefooted to church, bear- ing tapers in their hands, a thanksgiving procession for their safe return after so many dangers. Sebastian del Cano was amply rewarded. Many equally brave Spanish servants had been treated with scorn and derision, remain- ing unrewarded after all. But he received a patent of nobility, with the globe for his crest ; and round the globe was the proud motto — Primus me circumdedisti.* One word respecting the Vittoria, the surviving ship — a name almost sacred to Englishmen in connection with our own Victory, and her peerless Admiral. The Vittoria, which had been all round the world, and which had stood all the strains of climate and of sea, was lost on a sub- sequent voyage from St. Domingo in a very commonplace manner. And this is the end of Magellan's voyage round the world. He lived not to see his hopes reahzed ; but he pioneered the way to posterity, and has left behind him a death- less name as the first voyager who found the open sea-way round the globe. H. F. * You first encompassed me. 752 Cowling Castle, Stormed by Wyatt's Followei s. WYATT'S INSURRECTION THE STORY OF MARY TUDOR'S MARRIAGE. The National Dislike to the Spanish Marrlage^An Insurrection proposed — Arrival of the Spanish Embassy — The Insurrectionists' Final Meeting — The Leaders Depart to Arou«e the Country — Courtenay Fails to Meet the Carews — Their Discomfiture — Wyatt Raises his Standard of Rebellion and seizes the Ships in the Medway — Suffolk seeks refuge in a Hollow Tree ; is Finally Captured — Wyatt's Fatal Delay — Marches to Deptford — Mary Addresses the Citizens of London in the Guildhall — Wyatt finds the Gates of London Bridge closed against him — Four Days of Armed Suspense — Marches to Kingston — Enters London — Is Defeated and Imprisoned — Mary's Vengeance — Wyatt is Executed — Philip comes at last, and the Marriage is Solemnized. The Discontent of the People Aroused. HEN, in the autumn of 1553, it began to be noised abroad throughout the length and breadth of merrie England that the Queen — Mary Tudor, who had only recently succeeded to the throne — was bent on marriage with Philip of Spain, the discon- tent of the people began to be greatly stirred. Persons of all parties were agreed that no foreign prince should rule in England, and least of all a Spanish prince ; for Spain at that time was the greatest aggressive power in the world, and seemed bent on subjecting every other state to its sway. That the England of the Plantagenets and Tudors should sink to the despicable position of a mere province of haughty Spain was not to be borne ; and the sturdy English yeomen (whose plain common-sense and love of justice saw through 753 ccc EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. all the juggleries of Henry the Eighth's divorces, and were quite content that Mary, his elder daughter, should succeed to the throne at her brother's death) were yet deter- mined that their Queen's husband ought not to hail from foreign parts, and that they would not submit to foreign rule. Still further, it » was greatly feared that the Queen was bent on re-establishing the Papacy in England, and that Philip, her husband-elect, a Roman Catholic to the heart's core, would urge her on to this objectionable course. He would establish the iniquitous Inquisition, suppress the Parliament, bring over a large army of ruthless Spaniards to oppress the people and drain the resources of the country, while last, but not least, the land would be purged of Protestantism with fire and sword. To Protestants the expected marriage seemed a national calamity, and even those who were not Protestants were as bitterly opposed to the coming of the Spanish Prince, for they feared foreign entanglements. Discontent grew to such a degree that a large and influential party, including even members of the Queen's Privy Council, seeing that Mary was so bent on having her own way in this matter, began to consider the advisa- bility of an insurrection to depose the Queen, proclaim the complete independence of Eng- land from all foreign interference, and to raise her half-sister Elizabeth to the throne in her stead. Pamphlets setting forth these and similar schemes, and pointing out the irremediable disasters that would undoubtedly spring from the Spanish marriage, were scattered broad- cast throughout the land, some even finding their way to the palace itself. But nothing could turn Mary from her design, and when, on the 8th of November, Renard, the Spanish ambassador, presented the formal proposal, and requested the favour of a distinct reply, she wrung a reluctant consent from her Council, and joyfully an- swered, "Yes." A week later, however, on the i6th, the Speaker of the House of Commons presented a petition, in which Her Highness was en- treated to marry an Englishman, as a foreign prince might lead the country into disastrous wars, and betray the true interests of the nation. To thispetition Mary returned a veryhaughty and indignant answer, in which she seems to have ignored the fact that her marriage was fraught with the most important political issues, and declared her determination to marry whom she pleased, no matter the effect on the country. The Speaker Was commanded to leave her presence at once ; and in this summary manner she rebuffed Parhament, and declared her still unaltered determination to marry the Prince of Spain. Still further, it was rumoured abroad, — and rumour in this instance seems to have spoken truth, — that on the evening ofth is eventful day, the Queen eijtered her private oratory, accom- panied by Lady Clarence and Renard, and the three, kneeling before the altar, with eyes fixed on the Host, chanted the " Vent Creator; " and then, as the solemn notes died away into silence, she rose from her knees like one in- spired, and announced that she had implored the direction of the Almighty in the matter of her marriage, and that He had vouchsafed her an answer, that it was His will she should marry Philip. Thereupon she called Him to witness that she solemnly plighted her troth to that Prince. It being now clear beyond all doubt that Mary was determined upon the Spanish marriage, several lords and influential gentle- men began to hold private meetings in Lon- don to discuss the details of a rebellion. Noailles, the French ambassador, took a large share in the plot, and promised the help of France, for it was clearly to the in- terests of that country to thwart the plans of the Spanish sovereign ; there were also several noblemen, representing various parts of the country, who all promised their aid. The rebellion, therefore, appeared to have great chances of success. The chief difficulty was with Elizabeth herself. She warily refused to give direct answers to any proposition made to her ; while Lord Courtenay, the last representa- tive of the White Rose, whose influence was great in Devonshire and Cornwall, and who was looked upon as the titular leader at least of the enterprise, was weak, incapable, and cowardly, and men were afraid to trust them- selves too far with him. Much talking, there- fore, took place, but little was done ; and meantime the year drew nearer its close, and the preparations forthe hated marriage were hastily forced forward. Arrival of the Spanish Embassy. Early in December, the draft of the marriage treaty was sent over from Spain, and the very liberality of the articles were suspicious, inas- much as men thought that the Emperor did not intend to fulfil them. Mary's Council sullenly accepted them; and there is little doubt but that many thousands of gold pieces crossed the seas with the treaty, and surrepti- tiously found their way into the pockets of various Lords and Commoners to expedite the passing of the treaty and to soften their hostility. Five new clauses, however, were added, — to the effect that, though Phihp was to have the title King of England, the govern- inent should rest solely with the Queen, and that no foreigner should be admitted to any office in the Queen's household or in the state; that the Oueen should not be taken abroad 754 W YA TT'S INS [/J? /SECTION. against her will ; that England should not be involved in the Spanish wars; that the Prince's connection with the realm should cease at the Queen's death if no children were born r and that all the Crown jewels and the Trea- sury should remain entirely under Snglish control. These provisions being agreed to, the treaty was approved, although it was abun- dantly clear that the Parliament and Council were as much opposed as ever to the match. Immediately after this was accomplished an embassy was sent over, consisting of Counts Egmont and Lalaing, and M.M. de Courieres and De Nigry, with a numerous retinue, their duty being to publicly solicit Mary's hand in marriage for Philip, and settle the details of the marriage. The French threatened to oppose their passage over the Channel ; but the ship conveying them slipped across in the dark- ness of the December night, and the ambas- sadors pressing on with all speed, arrived in London about Christmas time. It was what is now called " old-fashioned Christmas weather." The snow lay deep on the ground, and the merry English boys pelted the shivering sons of the south with showers of snow-balls. But when the ambassadors reached the court,Count Egmont was so courteous that he charmed all with whom he came into contact, and the Emperor's emissaries received no personal slight. Meantime messengers were sent to Rome to procure the consent and blessing of the Pope ; and it was fully ex- pected that Mary and Philip would be wed before the weeks of Lent arrived. But though the opposition to the marriage was somewhat smoothed over among the Queen's courtiers and councillors, the dis- content of the people grew every day. The Emperor Charles, Philip's father, had gained his object at last, they said. He had obtained a footing in England ; and with his son as its king, and at the head of a large foreign army, he could easily disregard the terms of the marriage-treaty, and rule England with a rod of iron, even as he was ruling the Nether- lands and Naples and other European states. This was the opportunity of the insurrec- tionists. A final meeting of the conspirators was called in London, and certain gentlemen undertook to raise levies in different parts of the countrj'. ac d march onthe metropolis, which was then to rise for itself. Lord Courtenay, Sir Peter Carew and his brother Sir Thomas Carew, with Sir Nicholas Throgmorton and others to assist, were to arouse the men of Devonshire and Cornwall, where Courtenay's name was powerful ; Sir James Crofts was to lead an expedition from the borders of the Severn ; the Duke of Suffolk and his brothers. Lords Leonard, Thomas, and John Grey, were to marshal their tenantry in Leicester and Warwickshire ; while last but not least. Sir Thomas Wyatt, the younger son of Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet who had been a great favourite of Henry VIII., was to raise the men of Kent ; Noailles, on behalf of the French king, promised to put a fleet to sea, and hold some of the southern ports on behalt of the conspirators ; and already, it was said, Plymouth had agreed to receive a French garrison until all fears of a Spanish marriage had passed away. At this lapse of time it is impossible to estimate with accuracy the real motives of the revolutionary leaders, but it seems more than probable that Wyatt at least was actuated solely by what he believed to be patriotic impulses. Undoubtedly he was strongly of opinion that the Spanish marriage was likely to prove a grave national disaster. He appears to have been a Papist, but having been at the Spanish Court, he had obtained a strong idea of its aggressive character and of the cruelty and bigotry of the Spaniards; and he was determined that his beloved land, should not become the scene of their exploits. The First Fatal Mishap. In the second week in January, the various leaders all departed on their several ways. The Carews went offto the west ; Wyatt betook himself to Kent ; and Lord Suffolk to his house at Sheen, until he should hear from Wyatt ; and his brothers to the Midland Counties. And now occurred the first fatal mishap of the rebellion, though it was so early that it had hardly begun : Courtenay proved false or cowardly, as had been feared. It had been arranged that he was to follow the Carews to Devonshire ; but they waited for him in vain. After the others had gone, his natural timidity overcame him, and he delayed his departure. His vanity led him to believe that after all the Queen would marry him, as so many of the English people desired. He was young, handsome, and of as royal descent as herself — s'ky then should she not yield to their wishes ? and if so, the rebellion would ! not only be useless but a fatal mistake. He decided for the present therefore not to throw in his lot with the rebels, but to wait ; and meantime he hung about the palace hoping for a summons to appear before the Queen. Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, one of Mary's principal advisers, saw him frequently at this time, and by degrees drew from him certain remarks which led the astute prelate to suspect the plot. His suspicions once roused, he was not long 'n discovering the little that Courtenay knew. The Carews were forth- with summoned to reappear at Court ; but they, not knowing how much Gardiner had learned of their plans, excused themselves from obeying the order. It forced their hand, however, and caused 755 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. them to manifest their designs, which was what Gardiner desired. They immediately raised the standard of revolt, whereas it had been arranged with Wyatt and Suffolk that each should wait until all preparations were complete, and the hated Philip had actually appeared in England, when the popular dis- content would be at fever-heat ; then all the leaders were to simultaneously proclaim the deposition of the Queen, and march to London. As it was, the Carews avowed their designs before their accomplices were ready, or they themselves had completed theii" preparations. Their endeavours to rouse the men of Devon- shire met with but little success ; and mean- time an order was sent express from London to the sheriff of the county for their arrest. Being warned of their danger, however, they fled to Weymouth, and escaped to France. Thus one part of the plot was stifled in its birth, and the efforts of the other leaders greatly discouraged. Nevertheless, in spite of Courtenay's vacillation and the Carews' failure, the others resolved to persevere. Chief among these was Sir Thomas Wyatt , and on the 22nd of January, he called a meeting of his friends and supporters at his castle of Allingham, on the Medway. The resolve come to at this meeting was that the gentlemen then present should at once prepare thfir tenantry for the rising, and three days later, they should lead them to the ancient city of Rochester, where Wyatt would unfurl the flag of revolt and at once commence his march on London. This agreed upon, Wyatt at once sent messengers to the Duke of Suffolk, who de- parted instantly for Warwickshire ; where he caused proclamations to be made, stating that Phihp was close at hand, and urging upon all men to rise in defence of their liberties. It is said that on the very morning he left, Gardiner — who had been following up the tracesof the conspiracy, and who hated Suffolk as a zealous Protestant — had caused the Queen to send for Suffolk to court, meaning to arrest him. Suffolk grimly replied that he was on his way to the Queen, and would certainly see her ere long. And being booted and spurred, the messenger was satisfied, and departed ; but Suffolk, meaning not to see the Queen till he could dictate terms to her, mounted his horse and rode as fast as he could to- wards his estates. Wyatt Raises the Standard of Rebellion. While these events were transpiring in London, Wyatt had raised his standard at Rochester, and had caused copies of a stirring proclamation to be widely disseminated, declaring that Philip of Spain was about to land in England, accompanied by a band of aggressive foreigners, and that all true-hearted and loyal Englishmen should rise to resist them. His colleagues had not been idle ; and it was not long before numbers of sturdy yeomen and lusty labourers, armed for battle, gathered round the revolutionary flag. Wyatt's first enterprise was to seize the Queen's ships in the Medway nearest to Rochester, and appropriate their guns and am- munition. This he did without much diffi- culty ; and being accomplished, he set himself to organize the force that the patriotic enthusi- asm of the people had brought him. From the first, Isowever, he met with much disappointment, for certain gentlemen upon whose support he had relied, failed to help him at the critical moment. Such an one was Sir R. Southwell, the sheriff of the county, who had protested loudly against the marriage in the House of Commons, but at the last minute determined to restrict his opposition within the bounds of loyalty. Lord Cobham also, Wyatt's uncle, had been expected to arrive with suppoi'ts, but he did not come ; and a party of his servants who had been trusted by messengers from France, sent the despatches intended for Wyatt to Gardiner. In the meantime the news of the rising had reached the startled Court, and Mary at once despatched a herald to Rochester, to proclaim pardon to the rebels, if they would immediately disperse. Then she applied to the corporation of the City of London for a company of men to send against the insur- gents. Five hundred soldiers being forth- coming in answer to her appeal, she placed them under the command of the Duke of Norfolk, upon whose devotion to her cause she had good reason for believing that she could rely, and directed him to proceed against the rebels without further delay. Mary also wrote to Elizabeth, who was at Ashridge, suggesting that she should, because of the disturbance, take shelter with her in the royal palace. This suggestion seemed more of a command than a recommendation, and no doubt the shrewd Elizabeth regarded it as such, and kept out of the snare accordingly ; for she would assuredly have been imprisoned, had she placed herself in the Queen's power. She replied that she was too ill to leave her house, and hoped the country would soon be quieted. The herald Mary had sent rode as fast as he could through the snow-laden lanes of Kent, and arrived at Rochester early on Saturday morning, the 27th of January. But the insur- gents, who now held the town, would not per- mit him to enter ; and he therefore read the Queen's message aloud to them on the bridge. For answer, Wyatt's followers merrily shouted 756 IV YA TT 'S INSURRECTION. that they had done no wrong, and therefore they needed no pardon. There was no longer any doubt but that they meant to fight, and, having assured himself of this, the herald returned to his royal mistress. Thereupon the Duke of Norfolk, with the five hundred men be- longing to the city train-bands, instantly set out to Rochester, hoping to crush the insurrection in the bud, and prevent the insurgents from reaching London. Rein- forcements were also expected from Dover ; Lords William Howard and Abergavenny had exerted themselves and collected troops, which, uniting together, would prove, it was hoped, a formidable force. " Wyatt for Ever ! We are all Englishmen ! " Through the bitter wind and srtow of that terrible January weather, Norfolk marched his men towards Rochester; and as the short winter afternoon was waning into night, he drew them up before the bridge, and placed the cannon he had ^ brought in readi- =^-:- - :£^' ^^"'^^t^- ness to attack the " ->-;-^v5S^;;j:g:-^-r town. But just at the critical mo- ment when he was about to give the order to fire, and the matches to discharge the guns were already glowing in the dull twilight, one of his captains galloped to him through the dusk, and ex- claimed, in the greatest excitement, that the men refused to fight, in fact, they were changing their sides ! In haste the Duke spurred his horse towards the troop, — for he had been superintending the placing of the guns, and could see the men but indistinctly in the gloom, — and, to his indig- nation and alarm, he saw the London train-band, headed by their captain, march- ing over the bridge, shouting, " Wyatt for ever ! Wyatt for ever ! We are all Englishmen ! " In the first impulse of his wrath, Norfolk shouted to turn the guns upon these new insurgents ; but on second thoughts, he decided that discretion in this case was certainly much the better part of valour, and he therefore turned his horse, and, followed by about a dozen of his more immediate attendants, galloped as hard as he could back to town. Wyatt then came forward to meet his new supporters, and, addressing them, said : "All those who choose to tarry with us and oppose the coming of these cruel Spaniards shall be 757 RoCilliSTER. welcome ; but for those who do not care to cast in their lot with us, let them go." It is reported that very few acted upon this latter alternative, and that the great majority joined the revolutionary troops. This success was of the greatest value to Wyatt. Many men who had hitherto wavered, now elected to join him, for the sympathy with his cause was genuine and widespread. Although Lord Cobham still held back, yet his sons joined on the same evening after the Duke of Norfolk's discomfiture; and several thousand more men came in on the following day, until W}'att's total force reached nearly fifteen thousand men. Mary sends Messengers to treat WITH Wyatt. Norfolk's appearance in London as a fugi- tive, and with the news of the defection of his troop, was the signal for widespread panic. It was quite clear that the city was greatly disaffected, and Mary knew not whom to trust. Her immediate councillors, and even the wily Renard, advised that the marriage should be relinquished, or, at all events, postponed ; and the Spanish am- bassador offered :neantime to bring over an army from the Low Countries CO put down the insurrection. But Gardiner wisely refused to counte- nance this pro- posal, for the appearance of foreign troops would only increase opposition ; and it was finally decided to send two gentlemen to con- fer with Wyatt, and endeavour to come to terms. This plan, which was almost entirely Mary's own idea, was scarcely honest, for she knew full well that the chief reason of the people for rising was the Spanish marriage ; and she was also determined to make no peace with the insurgents that would post- pone or stop the marriage. This attempt to negotiate was simply a trick to gain time until more definite measures for resistance could be decided upon. It had the desired effect ; for Wyatt, flushed with his success, and thinking Mary was about to give way, named outrageous con- ditions, which enabled her to place herself in a better position with the citizens of London. She had directed her messengers to tell Wyatt that she believed he thought himself acting for the best interests of the country, but nevertheless he was mistaken ; that she would appoint suitable persons to confer with him EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. on the subject of the marriage ; and if it could be proved that the marriage was inimical to the good of the commonwealth, she would not allow it to proceed. In reply, Wyatt said that he would willingly talk over the subject of the marriage ; that he was con- vinced it would be harmful to the country ; but that — and here was his mistake in using words which could be so misconstrued against him — he must have hostages for the due ful- filment of the Queen's promise ; he must have custody of the Queen, the Tower of London, and four members of the Queen's Council. But while he waited to hear what answer was returned to these demands, Mary, seeing her opportunity, prepared for her grand stroke of defence. She received his answer with flushed cheeks and frowning brow, and when Count Egmont, the chief of Philip's embassy, came to her and offered to deiend her with his life, she bade him hastily begone, for she feared the presence of foreigners only served to irritate the people. That afternoon, therefore, when the dusk drew on, they quietly betook themselves below bridge, where, in the Pool, some mer- chant brigs from Antwerp were waiting to go out with the tide, and when the next morning dawned, behold the Spanish em- bassy was gone ! Mary addresses the Citizens of London. A few hours after Mary's interview with Egmont, when the Antwerp ships were quickly slipping down the Thames, the Queen, composing her face to an aspect of great grief and deep dejection, ordered out the royal carriage ; and, attended by Bishop Gardiner and a troop of soldiers, drove rapidly through the streets to the Guildhall to speak to the citizens. The hall of the city fathers was densely crowded ; many had come from motives of curiosity, and a few from feelings of pity. But boldly she entered the historic edifice, relying on her womanly weakness as her strength ; for she knew that none would then openly insult a woman or take advantage of her. Standing on the raised dais at the end of the hall, she spoke to them in her rough masculine voice that had in it a strange ring of her father's. " Certain of our subjects have risen against us," said she, "and we are told that the cause thereof is our intended marriage with ihe Prince of Spain. We have now come to confer on the subject, and to hear the ob- jections. But we cannot believe that these are the only reasons for the rising ; for the rebel leader, in answer to our message, has demanded the custody of our person, and of our Tower of London. We appeal to the loyalty of the citizens of our great city to preserve us from this insolent rebel who. under pretence of opposing our marriage, means to subdue the laws to his will, and to give scope to rascals to make havoc and spoil of your great city. As for our mar- riage, we thought that so splendid an alliance could not fail to be agreeable to our loyal subjects. To us and to our Council it seemed to promise great advantage to the common- wealth. We only desire to marry for the good of the country, for marriage in itself is indifferent to us. We will call a parliament, and the subject shall be duly considered in all its aspects ; and if, after grave delibera- tion, it should appear that the Prince of Spain is not a fitting consort for us, we promise, on our royal word, that we will think of him no more." This speech was clever, but cunning and dishonest. Mary intended to mary Philip of Spain at all hazards ; and shortly afterwards she told his ambassador that she would sacri- fice even her life rather than give him up. Her sole object now was to gain time, and prevent the junction of the London citizens with Wyatt's forces. For this purpose she cleverly twisted Wyatt's words, and used them against him. News travelled but slowly in those days, and the vaguest ac- counts of Wyatt's movements had reached the citizens. If his only object was to oppose the Spanish marriage, well and good ; but if, indeed, he was bent on sacking the city, and letting loose a number of ruffians to plunder and pillage, under pretence of oppos- ing the marriage, that was quite another thmg, and it would be necessary to keep the rebels outside the city gates until such time as their exact object was rendered quite clear — especially as the Queen now promised not to marry except in accordance with her subjects' wishes and had sent the Spaniards away. Further, there was the spectacle oi womanly distress which Mary cleverly ex- hibited, and which won the hearts of the sympathetic British householders even then as it has done many a time since in the jury- box ! And this settled the matter. The men shouted for the Queen ; and Mary left the city feeling more secure than she had done for many a day. On the morrow the Lord Mayor enrolled twenty-five thousand men for the express purpose of defending the Queen and capital ; and orders were given for the gate on London Bridge to be closed. Thus Wyatt's great opportunity was lost, ' Had he quickly followed up his first success, and arrived close on the heels of the flying Duke of Norfolk, he would have found the bridge-gate open and all the citizens ready to help him. But Mary had gained her first important point by winning London to her side ; and she accomplished this mainly by duplicity and lies. Had she but acted honestly in this matter, 758 IVYATTS INSURRECTION. and refused the Spanish match; had she not misrepresented Wyatt's words ; had she continued to consult the wishes of her subjects, and throw herself on their love ; had she but proved herself more of a " good Englishwoman " and less of an intol- erant bigot, her reign would have been peaceful and prosperous, if not briUiant; and her name, instead of being branded by the dreadful epithet by which she is always known, would have passed down to posterity as a cherished if not as a proud memory, like that of her half-sister, Elizabeth. But it was not so ; and pity her as we may, there can be no excuse for her deliberate deceit and unpatriotic lying in this matter. Doubtless many of her hearers thought so when, not so very long after they applauded her in the Guildhall, they saw the haughty Spaniards throng the streets, and marked the smoke of fearful martyr fires rise from Smithfield Green. The Rebels march to London. But meantime Wyatt, not finding an an- swer foi'thcoming to his demands, marched on London. On his way some of his men stormed Cowling Castle, the residence of Lord Cobham. This appears to have been an act of revenge ; for Cobham seems to have played fast and loose with them, now promising to assi:^t them, and anon turning back. About two thousand of the rebels blew up the castle gates, pillaged his house, and carried him off prisoner to Wyatt. This was on the last day of January ; and next morning they marched on to Dartford. The next day they reached Greenwich, their march being entirely unopposed; and, indeed, the country people appear to have welcomed them everywhere, and bade them " God speed." Rendered too confident by his success, "Wyatt again waited at Greenwich, uncertain whether to cross the river in boats at this point and march to the metropolis by way of Aldgate and Whitechapel, or to abide by his former plan, and advance through Deptford. Finally he decided to adopt this course, and arrived at Southwark on Saturday afternoon, the 3rd of February, to find his farther pro- gress across London Bridge barred by the closed gates. But more disheartening than this was the news which reached him of Suffolk's failure. How Wyatt's Colleague, the Duke of Suffolk, fared. As agreed upon with Wyatt, the Duke had proceeded to Leicester ; and on the morning of Monday the 29th of January, he had read a duphcate of Wyatt's proclamation in the market-place of that town. He said that the leaders of this movement were ready to die in the defence of the Queen, and they intended her no harm, but that they were determined England should not fall under foreign dominion. The proclamation met with no success. The people heard it with complete indif- ference, and Suffolk was only able to collect a hundred of his own retainers. I Undeterred by this failure, however, he I marshalled his men, and, clad in full armour, I rode out of the town next morning at their [ head. His plan was to proceed first to ! Coventry, where he had friends. These i gentlemen had undertaken to open the I gates, and promote a rising; and on the I previous day he had sent a servant to com- i municate with his supporters, and stir up the I people. But this servant made a mistake as to the person whom he should first address, and consequently news of the intended in- surrection soon spread, until it reached the ears of the Town Councillors. Their action was prompt and decisive. The city gates wei'e quickly shut, and the city watch was placed in complete possession of the streets. When therefore Suffolk arrived without the walls in the dusk of the next afternoon, it was to find the gates fast closed against him, and all hope of help from the great War- wickshire city completely gone. News also now reached him that an attempted rising of the garrison at Warwick Castle had also failed ; his messengers said the whole of the Midlands seemed opposed to the insurrection. The popular feeling seemed to be that, although the Spanish marriage was a national disaster, yetrebellion was not the proper plan to pursue in order to oppose it. It was clear, therefore, that the rising in the Midlands had failed. With a heavy heart, Suffolk, ill in body and anxious in mind, gave order to his men to wheel round, and retreated with his party to Astley Park, a small estate belonging to him, and distant only a few miles from Coventry. There he disbanded his men ; and giving them such supplies of money and food as he was able, he bade each one shift for himself. One of his brothers rode at once to the west, meaning to join Sir James Crofts ; while Suffolk betook himself first to the hovel of one of his retainers, where he hid for a while, and then, fancying that this was not sufficiently secure refuge, he sought shelter in the hollow of a decaying tree in the park. Here he remained for two terrible days and nights without food. Bitter indeed must have been his thoughts as the hours dragged slowly by. His schemes had all failed miserably. His daughter, Lady Jane Grey, was a close prisoner in the Tower, and he himself was compelled to hide like a common felon. Faint, famishing, and almost frozen with the severe cold, he watched the I winter sun twice decline to the west, and 759 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. then, unable to bear his exposure longer, he crawled forth to warm his numbed limbs at the nearest cottage fire. Here he was dis- covered by a party of the royal troops, who had been despatched to scour the country in search of him, and it is generally believed that the man in whose cottage he first took shelter betrayed him, and put the troopers on his track. He was at once conveyed to London ; and thus it came about, that while Wyatt was waiting outside London Bridge, his colleague, upon whose efforts he had counted so much, was taken to the Tower. A very different journey thither from that he had intended to take. He had hoped to go there it is true, but as a conqueror, not as a prisoner. And the hard features of Mary Tudor doubtless lost for a while their grave look of deep anxiety, as she learned that her enemies were thus one by one putting themselves into her power. But Wyatt yet remained unconquered, and the hopes of the anti-papal party were now centred in him. Wyatt's Adventure on London Bridge. The news of Suffolk's failure seemed only to give Wyatt fresh courage, and nerve him to still greater efforts. His position was one of great peril, and the support he had counted upon receiving from the citizens of London seemed likely to fail him. Yet no thought of turning back appears to have entered his mind. Possibly he thought it was as dan- gerous to retreat as to go forward. His difficulty was to cross the Thames. In those days, no other archways spanned the river between London Bridge and Kingston. And London Bridge was a narrow lane of houses, viith a strong gate near the South- wafk side, while in the centre was a draw- bridge. Wyatt at once saw the difficulty of his situation. Having halted his men, he gave strict instructions that no plundering would be permitted, and then allowed them to disperse for a while among the inhabitants of the Borough, who received them with great cordiality. Across the grey water of the river he could hear the hum of the excited populace on the other side ; and as the dusk drew on, a boat stole across, and he learned that a price was set on his head. The Queen had proclaimed him a traitor, and offere'd a substantial reward for his capture. To show how much he despised this, he caused his name to be graven in large letters, and set them on his helmet. Then as dusk deepened into night, he crept out alone from his quarters and went down to the gate. Peeping in the lodge window he saw that the porter and his wife were cosy beside their winter fire. He then cHmbed over the gate, and crept along till he came to the drawbridge. Below flowed the black water; across the narrow chasm, standing out clearly in the torchlight, he could see the muzzles of several cannon; and behind them crowds of armed men kept watch and ward. It was quite clear that there was no chance of obtaining a passage over London Bridge, and Wyatt returned the way he came, un- decided whether to march to Kingston, or return to Deptford and cross by boats. The next day occurred the only case of pillage. Some of the men being near Winchester House, the residence of Bishop Gardiner, their dislike to him overcame their feehngs of obedience, and, shouting aloud^ they burst open the doors and overran the house like an overwhelming flood. They not only carried off his victuals, of which there was plenty, but with unpardonable vandal- ism they left not a book in his library untorn, so that, says Stow, " men might have gone up to their knees in leaves of books, cut out and thrown underfoot." But their leader was quickly on the spot, and with stern voice bade them desist. They were in arms against foreign oppression he said, and not against their brethren, no matter what might be their religious opinions. No harm was intended even to Mary herself Let them take heed therefore to do no one injury. These words produced their effect, and there were many citizens across the water who began to doubt Mary's plausible words at the Guildhall. They found that Wyatt's troops were not bent on pillage, as she had said they were ; they were behaving them- selves quietly, and their leader was not acting as the presumptuous rebel she had described him. The prisons were not tampered with^^ and no undue efforts to obtain soldiers were resorted to. Beyond fortifying his position by placing a battery of two guns at the Southwark end of the bridge, and digging a deep trench in front of the guns, and keeping his other cannon in readiness, Wyatt did nothing. His rebellion seemed indeed more like an armed protest against the Spanish marriage than an attempt to seize the crown and produce lawless anarchy. Therefore no attempts were made to engage Wyatt's troops, and thus the second night closed in. The situation was now becoming most alarming; so much sympathy existed for the rebels, that none ot Mary's generals could trust their troops. Moreover, the attack could only be made at considerable dis- advantage, and they hesitated before preci- pitating the quarrel, and deluging the streets with their brothers' blood. Mary was alter- nately furious and fearful; but in the main her Tudor spirit kept her up, and her obstinate resolve to marry Philip never fal- tered. " Crown, country, even life itself;, 760 iY iO iLXtCUTION, DELLAI ES T H -^ f THE LaDY ElIZ \LL1 H HAD MO Jr'AKT KOR LoT IN HIS Insurrection. 761 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. shall go before I give up the Prince of Spain," she said. An Ominous Pause. For four days did this anomalous state of things continue. The capital was in a situation of armed suspense. The Council were divided, the people were suspicious, and Wyatt's cause was slowly gaining ground. To this ominous state of things had Mary's perversity brought the country, which only six months before, had resounded with joy bells for her accession. At last, events decided themselves, and a slight incident altered the whole course of action. Late on Monday afternoon, the 5th of February, one of Wyatt's sentries seeing a boat belonging to. the Tower pass up the river near the South- wark side, challenged it, and receiving no ansv/er, he fired, and killed one of the water- men. Next morning Sir John Brydges, the governor of the Tower, gave notice, that in return he should open fire upon the rebels. In alarm the people of South wark crowded round Wyatt, beseeching him either to protect them from the bombardment or to flee. Wyatt, half beside himself with agita- tion and indecision, resolved to march to ] Kingston Biidge, and endeavour to force his way across. Had he been able to have remained quietly at Southwark, most likely be would have been ultimately successful, for the popular feeling was steadily rising in Ins favour. But he was obliged to take decided action, and, unfortunately for himself, he took that which ended in his ruin. His army seems to have sadly dwindled down, and chronicles of the period stale that only fifteen hundred men followed him out of Southwark. His feelings of keen dis- appointment may well be imagined from a conversation he is reported to have held with one, Master Dorell, a merchant from London, whom he met on his way to the west. "Ah ! good Master Dorell," said he, " I pray you commend me unto your citizens; and say unto them from me, that when liberty was offered them they would not receive it; neither would they admit me within their gates, who for their freedom and for rescuing them from the oppression offoreigners would frankly spend my blood in this cause and quarrel." The rebels reached Kingston at dusk, and found half the bridge broken down, and a strong guard posted on the opposite side. Without any delay Wyatt loaded his cannon and sent shot after shot through the twi- light among his opponents. These doughty warriors, not liking this state of things, speedily decamped, and Wyatt set to work to repair the broken bridge. This was quickly done by means of barges, and before midnight the little army had crossed and were marching back towards the town. 76 As they tramped along, we imagine that every one of those men must have, to an extent, regretted their adventure. The weather was very cold, the keen winter blast cut their faces like whip-cord, and the roads were ankle-deep in thick mud ; weary and footsore, with sadly diminished numbers, their project of taking London with scarce more than a thousand men seemed the wildest scheme that ever entered the mind of man. Had it not been that they expected support from the citizens within the gates, they would surely never have inarched on. Through the thick night the rebels struggled slowly onwards to London. Most of the Kentish men had returned home, and ihose who now composed the troops were disalTected persons from various parts of the country, including the city-band who had gone over to Wyatt at Rochester. They had cannon with them ; and the heavy pieces of ordnance proved a terrible hindrance to the celerity of their movements ; once, near Brentford, one of the guns was fixed firmly in the mud, and much precious time — nearly two hours — was lost in extricating it. Preparations to resist the Rebels. The news of Wyatt's coming preceded him, and shortly after midnight the alarm was given at the Oucen's I-'-i'ace that Wyatt was near. Instantly drummrs were sent down the dark and silent streets of the slumbering city, and by four o'clock in the morning the alarum had been beaten all round the town, the train-bands had been aroused, and Pem- broke, with ten thousand men, was posted at Charing Cross ; and near Hyde Park Corner, which had then recently become the property of the Crown, was placed a strong body of cavalry, upon whose loyalty Mary could rely. These preparations being complete, the troops waited quietly through the stormy dawn for Wyatt's appearance. The morning gradually grew lighter, but still he did not come ; when at last, towards ten o'clock, the v/eary watchers on the top of the hill above Kniyhtsbiidge saw the advance guard of the rebel forces straggling feebly along by the open fields. It was clear that they were greatly exhausted by their tiring night march, and faint for want of food. The royal troops waited until about half had passed, then dashing down the lane by Hyde Park, they cut the rebels completely in two, and those who were lagging behind were either scattered or slain. Wyatt, believing that his friends in the city would welcome him at Temple Bar, pressed forward along what is now Piccadilly. A small battery had been placed at the point which is now the top of St. James's Street ; and as Wyatt appeared, the guns opened fire, and a few of his men fell ; but undaunted, he WVATTS INSURRECTION. pressed forward, and swerving to the right so that the great mass of his opponents were on his left, he made a short cut toward Charing Cross. Part of his band, led by Knyvett and the sons of Lord Cobham, struck across the Green Park, which had then been but re- cently enclosed, meaning to attack the Queen's palace from the west, while Wyatt engaged the guards on the opposite side. Until the rebel leader drew near Charing Cross, not a blow was struck against him. The citizens marshalled along the way let him pass, and it was not until he reached what is now Trafalgar Square, when he met Sir John Gage and part of the Queen's Guard, that a sword was drawn to oppose his progress. But here the vain and weak-minded Cour- tenay, — who was a source of weakness on whichever side he elected to stand,— annoyed at being put under Pembroke, and perhaps ashamed to actually appear in arms against the very party he had possibly helped to raise, or perhaps acting from a definite plan of treachery, turned his horse and hastened to Whitehall, crying, " Lost ! lost ! all is over ! Wyatt has conquered ! " Some of the soldiers followed him, believing what he said to be true ; and others, not liking Wyatt's determined attitude, broke their ranks also. They hurried to the Palace, and meeting the men led by Knyvett and the Cobhams at the entrance, were some of them slain and others knocked over. Their leader himself was rolled in the mud, so great v/as the onslaught of the rebels. Others rushed through the palace galleries crying aloud that Pembroke and their other leaders had betrayed them. Shouts of " Treason ! Treason ! " and " Lost ! lost ! all is lost ! " rang alarmingly through the Palace. Mary, who had watched the whole proceedings from her palace win- dows, cried aloud, " I myself will fight and die with those who die for me ! " It was the crucial moment of the insurrection, and she knew it. If the Londoners sympathised with the rebels, as they seemed inclined to do, Mary would indeed have lost both crown and husband. But at this moment a strong company of archers, who had been sent by Pembroke to protect the Palace, made their appearance, and their clouds of arrows did great damage in the rebel ranks. A sharp fight followed, in which Knyvett's party were dispersed, though he himself, with the sons of Lord Cobham, managed to cut their way through and joined Wyatt. Meanwhile the rebel leader was riding along the Strand ; he had heard the noise of the battle, and hurried on still faster to enter Ludgate before it should be closed, and join those within the city who had promised their help. The men still divided their ranks to let him pass, and hope rose high in his heart as from along Fleet Street he could see the gate open on Ludgate Hill ; his progress was still unopposed, and, spurring their tired horses, the rebels hastened forward. But when within a few yards of it, to their keen disappointment and indignation, they saw the gate shut in their faces ! Lord Howard of Effingham and a party of men had just arrived, and, amid the murmurs of the bystanders, they just closed the gate in time, and, in spite of all opposition, they meant to keep it fast. Wyatt still rode on, and knocked for admittance ; but Lord William's angry voice replied, " Begone traitor ! thou shalt not enter here ! " Wyatt's reply was the sad and melancholy answer of a brave man who felt keenly the faithlessness of those upon whom he had relied, — " I have kept touch," he said, which in the English of to-day we may suppose to mean, " I have done my part, and fulfilled my share of the bargain ; I can do no more." And then, wearied and exhausted, he sank on a seat near the Belle Sauvage Inn, and waited the course of events. Wyatt's Last Fight. Along the Strand sounded the shouts of Pembroke's victorious troops. " Down with the draggle-tails ! " they cried, alluding in derision to the clothes of Wyatt's wearied troopers, which had been soiled by the mud and dirt of their midnight tramp. The men who had followed him thus far, seeing now how hopeless the struggle had become, betook themselves to the narrow lanes and streets on either side, and in a few moments Wyatt's force had vanished like the morning mist before the sun, scarce a score or so remaining round their leader. In a minute more, up came Knyvett with the poor remnant of his men, and, seeing that to remain outside Ludgate would be instant death, the little band resolved to turn back by the path they had come, hoping to cut their way through any opposition, and that the city train-bands would let them pass as before. They were successful until th^iy reached the Temple, for the men were des- perate, and they quickly disposed of such opposition as they met with. But Pembroke's cavalry, having dispersed the half of the rebels they had cut off at Hyde Park, were now riding up, and although Wyatt and his friends charged them with a dauntless cou- rage which deserved success, they were soon overpowered. Clarenceux, one of the Queen's heralds, rode up to Wyatt and persuaded him to yield, saying, " Sir, the day has gone against you ; it were best to yield, and not surcharge yourself with the blood of your brave followers. 763 EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. Sir Maurice Berkeley was near, and to him Wyatt surrendered his broken sword. Berke- ley took him up on his own horse and galloped rapidly to Westminster. Knyvett, Brett, and the Cobhams, were also taken back to Westminster. At Whittehall stairs they were placed in a barge and conveyed to the Tower, Mary, still at her window in the palace, seeing them go. Brave Wyatt ! we pity him as we see him pass along the silent highway to his prison and his doom. He had "kept touch;" he had done what he could ; he had done all a brave man dared do to preserve England from that which he held tobe a national disgrace and a national dis- aster, and this was the end ! Perchance as he stepped into the .boat, he caught a gli mps e of Mary's exul- tant, spiteful, and hard-fea- tured face as she saw her captives within her grip. For himself, he knew what he might expect — a short shrift and the heads- man's block ; but for his loved England to be at the mercy of a bigoted Span- iard, — this was the bitter thought that burned within the patriot's soul ; forWyatt was a patriot, though possibly a mistaken one. He acted as he thought for the best. His purpose was honest, and his designs were sincere. Had his confederates resembled him in his bravery and disin- terested earnestness, — had they supported him as they led him to expect they would, — had he not hastened when he should have waited, and waited when he should have hastened, — had he even retrieved his errors by leaving his dismounted gun at Brentford, and thus arrived in town two hours earlier, before Pembroke had had time to make his preparations, — had he been even a few minutes before Ludgate was closed, though his friends in the city should have seen that it was not closed, he might have been suc- cessful, and Philip of Spain would revjr have come to England, and possibly the Protestant martyrs would never have been burned. But Wyatt's attempt had failed, and the Queen's party was triumphant all along the line. Shortly afterwards Sir James Crofts was captured in Wales, and thus all the insurgent leaders were either in prison or in exile. Queen Mary's Bitter Revenge. And now Mary, having obtained a signal victory, began to show her vengeance. Her temper was aroused and she meant to make short work of her opponents. The next day a proclamation was circulated thro ughout London, to the effect that all persons who sheltered any of the insur- gents would at once be put to death. The rebels were given up in scores, and all theprisonsand churches were speedily filled. Every one who had taken part in the rebellion against the Prince of Spain was to be hung; every one, indeed, who could by any chance be thought to op- pose the Queen's wishes was to suffer. Courtenay, Elizabeth, and even the gentle Lady Jane Grey, who had taken no part whatever in this rebellion, — all were to die ! Renard and h is Spanish master had triumphed, England nowwould beunder their thumb,and joyously the wily ambassador wrote home the news. All along he had been urging Mary to deeds of cruelty, and now she listened to him. A few months previously. Lady Jane Grey and her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley, had been convicted of high treason, and although they had nothing whatever to do with this last trouble, yet she was a descendant of Henry VH., and her father, with others, had 764 WYATT'S INSUREECTION. called her queen for nine days, so the sooner she and her husband suffered death the better now. On the very day after her victory, Mary signed the warrant for their execution, and they were beheaded on the I2th of February. The same gloomy day saw Courtenay con- veyed to the Tower ; and Commissioners having been appointed to try by martial law the wretched prisoners with which the jails were crowded, the terrible slaughter com- menced. Gibbets were erected all over the city, and in nearly every street a ghastly corpse swayed horribly to and fro in the dull February twilight. According to the old his- torian Stow, no less than eighty men were thus gib- beted on the first day, while twe n t y- two were sent into Kent to suffer. Others fol- lowed on suc- ceeding days, sothatbetween the 7th of Feb- ruary and the 12th of March four hundred " common men " were ex- ecuted and many others afterwards. By these severe measures Mary hoped to strike terror into the hearts of her people. The leaders were — most of them — pre- sumably re- I servedformore important trials by jury, but in fact, to extort confessions from them which should incrimi- nate Elizabeth, Renard — or the Emperor, Philip's father, through him — seemed bent on procuring her death, and also Courtenay's. Until they were decapitated, Mary could never rest secure on her throne, they urged. But the Lords forming the Queen's Council insisted most pertinaciously upon the due observance of all forms of law, and, indeed, were most bitterly opposed to even the imprisonment of Elizabeth in the Tower. She was the next heir to the throne, and was not to be thus hghtly accused to gratify the present sovereign's ill-feeling. For a few months Elizabeth had resided at her home at Ashridge in Bucking- hamshire; and although it was surmised that suggestions had been made that she should allow the insurgents to act in her name, yet her acceptance of such suggestions could not be in the slightest degree proved. Nevertheless, immediately upon the dis- comfiture of the insurrectionists, Mary sent a troop of horse to conduct her half-sister to Loiidon. The instructions were to bring her alive or dead. She was reported to be ill, and Mary sent the Court physicians to see if her illness were real or feigned ; and if real to tend her, and cause her to be comfortably moved when ^5= I SO Philip of Spain (^ from a painting ly Tiliaii). out of danger. The soldiers reached Ash- ridge at night, after the Prin- cess had re- tired to rest ; and being de- nied an inter- v i e w, they forced their way into her bed chamber. " Is the haste great that you could not have waited until morn- ing?" she said leebly, as they ranged them- selves in her room. She was un- mistakably so ill . that the rough troopers seemed asham- ed of their orders, and an- swered that " they were sorry to see her in so bad a case ; " to which she replied with a quiet touch of humour, " And I am not glad to see you here at this time of night." Elizabeth became worse, and she was un- able to bear the journey until the i8th, when they set out in obedience to the Queen's commands, and proceeded by easy stages to London. The first day she travelled_ no farther than Redbourne ; on the second night she rested at Sir Ralph Roulett's house at St. Albans ; the third night she slept at the house of a Mr. Dodd at Mimms ; and on the fourth she stayed at Highgate, proceeding to Westminster by way of Smithfield and Fleet Street. Meantime the trials and gibbetings 76s EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY. hcd been continued, but of the more illustrious prisoners, only Suffolk had at present sufifered. He was sentenced on the 17th of the month, and executed on the 23rd, — repentant, it is said, for his share in the insurrection, but as firm in his Protestant faith as his unfortu- nate daughter, Lady Jane Grey, had been before him. Elizabeth enters London. 1 1 was on the day of Suffolk's death Eliza- beth reached London. Well might she look around with horror and dismay. The streets were ghastly with gibbets, and every public building was covered with the heads of England's bravest sons. The people, sub- dued, sullen, and silent, moved about with stealthy tread and suspicious aspect, as if dreading what might next occur ; and though crowds followed Elizabeth to the Palace at Westminster, few, if any, dared to cheer her. To give the lie to all lying reports about her, the haughty Princess ordered her litter to be opened that all could see her as she passed. She was dressed in white, and her pale, proud features, worn by sickness, bespoke the pity of the bystanders. When she arrived at Westminster, she desired to see the Queen; but Mary refused her request, and commanded her to be confined in a small suite of rooms in a remote corner of the Palace, where, strictly guarded, she re- mained until a confession — true or false it mattered little — implicating her could be wrung from Wyatt or his colleagues. But the confession never came; for in all probabiHty Elizabeth was far too shrewd to have done anything which could be proved against her. It is not too much to assume that a Princess, who in after years exhibited such powers oi finesse, would, in the difficult position in which she was now placed, have managed to take care of herself. Wyatt made a few vague admissions, which, however, could only be twisted into definite charges by the most bloodthirsty partisans. No doubt Mary would have sacrificed her on the slightest pretext, if for no other reason than that she was "Boleyn's daughter ; "but the Lords of Mary's Council would have none of this. They insisted on the plainest proof, and would not allow her even to be committed to the Tower for "safety." Affairs were in this critical condition when, the rebellion being over, the Emperor's ambassadors, Counts Egmont and Horn, ar- rived to hasten forward the marriage, and to press for the execution of Elizabeth. While her head remained on her shoulders, they said, Mary was never safe. They also brought over large supplies of Spanish gold, which were judiciously distributed among influential gentlemen of the Court and Council, and all outward opposition to the Spanish marriage by the Council was with- drawn. On the 6th of March, Mary was formally betrothed, Egmont acting as Philip's representative. But the country was far from being satisfied, and every day fresh indications came that the people were still opposed to Philip as the Queen's husband ; in London especially the insurrectionary spirit continued vigorous. The people, how- ever, made no further attempt at organized insurrection, for the chief opponents of Philip sided too much with France, and they feared a French occupation even more than the Spanish marriage. As the time drew near for Philip to land, it was said that French cruisers swept the seas wherever his vessels would be likely to sail; and many sympathisers with Wyatt having passed over to Paris, it was rumoured that another insurrection was hatching there: whether this was the case or not, it came to nothing, and Mary and her evil counsellors were left free to pursue their course. Wyatt was pressed to confess that Elizabeth was deeply implicated in the rebellion, and flattered with hopes of pardon if he would make such a statement. Lady Wyatt was also urged to entreat her husband to make such confession, but all to no purpose. The brave man said nothing which could clear the way for the Court to proceed against the Princess. It appears that he did give evidence against Elizabeth to some extent, but not nearly sufficieo for the Crown to demand her execution. Wyatt proving obdurate, his trial was fixed for the 15th of March. It was brief, and to the point. The evidence against him was clear and decisive, and he pleaded guilty to the indictment. But he said that Courtenay had instigated the plot, and that Elizabeth had thanked him for his efforts. He was speedily condemned to death ; and was privately given to understand, that he might still be pardoned, if he would incriminate Elizabeth. On the day after his trial, the Princess was brought belore the Council, and severely cross-questioned. The result was, that Bishop Gardiner demanded her imprisonment in the Tower. Several of the Lords de- murred to this ; whereuDon the wily Bishop cunningly asked which of them would be responsible for her safe keeping and safe conduct. No one being prepared to accept so great a responsibility, a reluctant consent was at last wrung from them ; and next morning — the 17th of March — Lord Sussex and the Marquis of Winchester waited upon her to take her to the Tower in a barge. They could not trust the people to convey her by land. 766 / F VA TTS INSURRECTl ON. The summons came upon the Princess quite suddenly, and at the dreadful news, Elizabeth stood aghast, as if turned to stone. For the moment she lost her self-command. It was at the Tower that her mother had been beheaded, and that Lady Jane Grey had recently fallen. Those who entered its terrible walls rarely came out again, except to take that journey from whence no traveller returns ; and to her the words sounded like a knell. At last that which she had feared so long had suddenly come. The inveterate hatred of her half- sister was to have its way at last. Then the Princess begged for a little delay while she wrote to the Queen. Her im- prisonment was Gardiner's and Renard's doing, it could not be Mary's alone. So she sat down and wrote her letter, pleading that she should not be condemned unheard and without clear proof, and stating and restating her complete innocence. As for the letter the " traitor Wyatt " was reported to have sent to her she denied receiving it, or having sent any letter to the French King. The letter was taken to Mary, but had no effect upon her stony heart. It only irritated her the more ; and Lord Sussex was sharply rated for presuming to allow Elizabeth to write it. " Boleyn's daughter" was therefore taken to the Tower ; and at last Mary began to hope that her troubles were over. Philip would come soon now, and then a heaven upon earth would begin for her. Execution of Wyatt. Every effort having failed to cause Wyatt to make a confession seriously implicating Elizabeth, it was determined to execute him. Day after day executions of prisoners con- nected with the rebellion had taken place, until the country was sickened with the slaughter , and even Mary's earnest supporters began to counsel moderation, and to urge that her policy of vengeance should be stopped. Parliament had met on the 2nd of April, and had passed the Marriage Bill. Philip was certainly coming, and the match was now as certain as anything mortal could be. Why then should the gibbeting of poor peasants continue, whose only crime had been that they had done as their lords required them? The representation of the Council had some effect ; and it was decided to execute the leaders, and to leave the rest. On the nth of April, therefore, Wyatt was brought from his cell, and confronted with Courtenay ; but the words which passed at the interview are so differently reported by conflicting accounts, that it is literally im- possible to tell what really was said. But when he came upon the platform he ad- dressed the people in loud tones, and said distinctly that the Lady Elizabeth had no part nor lot in his rebellion. 767 " I assure you, good people," said he, " that neither the Lady Elizabeth nor my Lord Courtenay were privy to my rising or commotion before I began." To which, one who was attending him on the scaffold replied in loud voice, — "Beheve him not, good people, he has confessed otherwise before the Council !" And Wyatt again cried, — " That which I say now is true." Then commending his spirit to Him who gave it, the brave man laid his head on the block, and in a few moments was no more. Whether his last words, completely excul- pating Elizabeth and Courtenay were ab- solutely true or not, they had the desired effect ; for no sooner was Wyatt beheaded than his confession was the talk of the town. The tribunals declared that there was ab- .solutely no evidence against Elizabeth; and the feeling of the people was such that it was simply impossible for Mary to procure a death-sentence against her sister. It is very likely that Wyatt's words were true in spirit if not in literal fact ; for although Elizabeth would no doubt have been quite content to profit by the insurrection had it been successful, yet it is very probable she neither instigated nor aided it. As for Courtenay, he was but a weak fool, who was only told as much as was thought absolutely necessary, and very likely knew but little of the plot, otherwise the wily Gardiner would have drawn from him more than he did. But it is of little moment now to discuss the actual guilt of these persons, except to point out the fact that by his confession Wyatt probably preserved to the nation the Princess, who afterwards became "Good Queen Bess." Perhaps as he mounted the scaffold, and the affairs of earth began to fade from his view, he had a glimpse of what might be the effect of his words ; and rather than purchase life at the cost of im- plicating Elizabeth he would die at once, and preserve her to the nation. Even the sight of the dreadful block and the heads- man's axe could not alter his resolve. It being impossible to commit Elizabeth, she was removed from the Tower on the 19th of May, and conveyed to Woodstock, where she was kept in confinement for a long period. This was the utmost that the feeling of the people would permit. Courtenay was first sent to Fotheringay Castle, and finally sent to Germany, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, who had been associated with the Carews, was tried on the 17th of April, and by reason of the boldness with which he defended himself, the jury found him " Not Guilty," — for which they were imprisoned and heavily fined ! The jury no doubt intended this verdict as a rebuke against the cruelty with which the insurrectionists were punished. As such Mary EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HlSlORY. felt it. She kept her room for three days, being ill with inortitication or ill-temper, — perhaps both. Philip comes at last ! All obstacles being now removed, the final arrangements were made for the reception of the royal bridegroom. He came reluctantly, for he was not in love either with the lady cr the land over which she ruled. Never- theless he came at the bidding of his father, and because he believed in the political advantages to be derived from the marriage. Early in July he set sail, accompanied by a fleet of a hundred and fifty vessels, which brought over a force of six thousand soldiers as escort. At Mary's own request, he also brought over his own cook, for fear of being poisoned — so great was the dislike even now entertained to the marriage ; and under his doublet he wore a shirt of mail. Truly these were merry arrangements for a joyful bride- groom to make ! The marriage must have been very delightful to him ! The voyage was long and bad, and the Prince suffered horribly from sea-sickness. But at length, on the 19th of July, he arrived at Southampton, and learned that the Queen was waiting for him at Winchester. As soon as the vessel dropped anchor within sight of the town, a royal barge, in which were many of the English nobility, approached ; and Philip was rowed to land. The weather was still bad, and, completely exhausted by the voyage, he waited for three days at Southampton before proceeding to Winches- ter. Each morning as his lattice was opened, his eyes met the cheerful view of the steady downpour with which we are still familiar on some of the days of our English July. This did not tend to raise his royal spirits ; and used as he was to sunny Spain, he must have thought he had indeed come to an unpleasant country. Nevertheless, he conducted himself with the most scrupulous politeness. The rain continued for some days ; and it was in the midst of a storm of wind and wet that, on the 23rd, he rode to Winchester. Arrived there, he proceeded at once to the cathedral, to pray at the altar and bow before the holy wafer, no doubt asking blessings upon his marriage. Then, when the watery twilight had sunk into the darkness of a wet summer night, he was conducted into the presence of his elderly bride, who was- staying close by at the Bishop's palace, and doubtless awaiting his coming with anxious delight. And so at length the so-called lovers met 1 Two days afterwards, en the 25 h, the marriage was solemnized with great splen- dour in the cathedral, by Garduier, Bishop of Winchester. And thus th^ Spanish mar- riage, upon which Mary had fi ced her heart with such pertinacity, and for which she had poured out the blood of her subjects like water, became an accomplished fact. Unhappy queen ! She soon found that this marriage, which she hoped would open to her the gates of an earthly paradise, only brought her more unhappiness, even as many of her warmest supporters had feared that it would. The people at Court seemed pene- trated with a gloomy distrust, and the people in the country were sullen and suspicious. Philip's cold and reserved manners were repugnant to the English nobles, and their dislike to the marriage grew. Moreover it was soon shown that, notwithstanding his influence in the coming of Cardinal Po'e and the reconciliation of England with Rome, Philip was to have little or no real power in the govei-nment of the country. The Parliament, slavish though it was, would not consent to his being crowned King of England ; and though he scattered his gold withalavish hand, he still remained obnoxious to the people. After a few short but eventful months, he returned to Spain, and but seldom visited England again. So ends the story of Wyatt's insurrection and Mary Tudor's marriage, and it throws a strong light upon subsequent events in English history. Disappointed at her wedded unhappiness, Mary doubtless regarded her misery as a punishment of heaven for the heresy within her realm, and she burned all the more martyrs to appease the wrath of an offended God. But her first fault, and, per- haps, in some respects one of her greatest, was when she deliberately broke faith with her people in this matter of the Spanish mar- riage. She then commenced that course of alienation from her subjects which, in a few months, changed her from one of the most popular to one of the most execrated, if not the most execrated, of English sovereigns ; and her name now comes down to us cursed with a terrible epithet, which will cling to it for all time. •. F. M. H. Tee End. Lt Mr '08 ^' Written on mt original, but attractive plan . . . extractijtg and present- ing to the reader in a condensed though telling for7n, the gems of history^ Chicago Tribune. EPOCHS AND EPiis OF HISTORY: A BOOK OF Memorable Days and Notable Events. FULLY ILLUSTRATED. nPHIS Work will consist of a number of Narrative Sketches, each complete in itself, setting forth in a ' popular form those important events in the History of Nations by which the various periods are defined and characterized, or which are important links connecting one period with another. While Battles, Sieges, and warlike operations generally will be duly recorded, just prominence will be "-iven to those peaceful triumphs of Invention and Discovery, of Statesmanship and organizing genius, that have contributed, equally with the noisiei events of Military and Naval Warfare, to influence the destin\' of nations and define the character of various periods. The range of subjects necessarily extends to all ages and countries. Each separate event will be treated completely in connection with its causes and consequences ; the object being to present a number of pictures and striking scenes, which, interesting and instructive when viewed apart from each other, will, wlien grouped together, give a general idea of the nature and character of the different aspects exhibited by the nations at various'periods, as the course of the \iorld's history rolls onward " down the ringing grooves of change." A FEW OF THE SUBJECTS TREATED WILL BE: FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION: The Story of the Anti-Corn Law League ; UNIONISTS AND C:ON- FEDERATES : The Story of the American Civil War ; THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS : or, The Times of the Crusaders- INDIA S AGONY : The Story of the Mutiny of 1857 ; THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND ■ The Story of Kn.rlisl,' Protestantism; WILKES AND LIBERTY: The Story of a Popular Victory ; THROUGH SLAUGHTER TO ' \ •IHRONE: The Story of the Co:tp d' Etat : METHODISM: The Story of a Great Revival; FROM ALMA TO SKISASTOPOL: The Story of the Crimean War ; THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE : The Story of a Speculative Mania • WHAT CAME OF A " NO POPERY CRY " : The Story of the Gordon Riots of 1780 • THE ELIZABETHAN -VGE •' •J-he Story of a Great Time ; C/ES ARISM IN ROME : The Story of the Fall of the Republic One large octavo volume, 780 pp., beautifully bound in cloth, - %^ 00 library style, 6 00 ^ ^ \ (i^