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«ifi7« Gazette
— Addison Reproving Newsmongery — An Unintended
Prediction — Present Number of Local Papers — Im-
position of a Stamp Duty— The Oldest Existing
Journals— Birth and Growth of the Tijttcs—A. Taxed
and Dear Press — A Time of Poverty and Discontent
— Defying and Evading the Law — Carpenter and
Hetherington — Prosecutions and Imprisonments —
"Pelhara" to the Rescue — A Suggestion of Cheap
Postage— Parliamentary Work — Mr. Ewart, Mr. Mil-
ner, Mr. Gibson, and the Select Committee — Resolute
Attacks on " the Ta.xes on Knowledge " — Opposition
to the Publication of the Stamp Returns — Chambers'
Historical Newspaper, and Dickens's Household
Narrative — The Railway Mania and Mushroom
Journalism — Total Abolition of the Imposts — First
Appearance of the Daily Telegraph — The Penny and
Halfpenny Pre.ss.
FROM ELBA TO WATERLOO ....
Napoleon I. becomes Ruler of Elba — Description of the
Island — A great King and a Small Empire — Activity
and Prosperity 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 Tuil-
eries — The Government and the Army — Attachment
of the Troops to Napoleon — Flight of the Bourbons —
Plan of the Campaign of 1815 — The Duke of Wel-
lington and Marshal Blucher — Active Operations —
The Historical Ball at Brussels — Battles of Ligny and
and Quatre Bras— Retreat and New Position South
of Waterloo — The Great Battle — Incidents of the Day
— A Defensive Position — The Issue of the Conflict —
End of the Vanquished Conqueror's Career.
SCOTLAND'S GREAT VICTORY . . . . ,
Introduction — Britons, 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 Un-
conquered— Robert Bruce— King Edward's Vow of
Vengeance — The Avenger laid low — Adventures of
the Fugitives, etc. — Brighter Days begin — King
Edward II. — Frivolity takes the place of Fierceness
— The Siege of Stirling Castle— A Battle imminent-
Site of ihe Hatlle— The B.attle— Flight of King Ed-
ward — Braces Nobleness in Triumph— Results of the
Battle.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
THE PENNY POST -241
The Old Posts and Posting— Ancient Carriers— His-
torical Sketch of the Penny Post of London— 1 he
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 Op-
position-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 HiU
— Post Office Work— Some Curious Facts — The
Parcel Post — Conclusion.
PAGE
Giraldus Cambrensis and his Opinion of Women — A
Papal Bull — Flight of King Dermot to England—
Strongbow and other Soldiers of Fortune — Siege of
We.xford — A Kingly Cannibal — Normans and Natives
— Massacre and Marriage — King Roderic and the
Invaders — Strongbow, King of Lemster — 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— Projects for Reform-
ing the Irish Church — A Reign of Terror— The Plan-
tation of Ulster — The Irish Society of London — The
Curse of Cromwell— Boy ne Water and the Siege of
Limerick— The Treaty of Limerick— A Policy of
Oppression.
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY • ■ 257
A Momentous Question — English Liberty in the Olden
Time — The Parliament and its Power— Henry IV.
and Parliamentary Privileges— Tudors and Stuarts :
Their Attitude towards the Parliament and People-
Henry VIII. and the Contributions— Queen Eliza-
beth : Her Dependence on the People— James L— A
New State of Things— Charles I. working out his
Father's Theory- -John Hampden, Member for
Wendover — The Despotic Period — An Arbitrary
Government — The "Thorough" and Ship Money
— The Trial of the Question— The Collapse of
"Thorough"— The Short Parliament— The Long
Parliament — Breaking out of the Civil War— Death
of Hampden — Conclusion.
FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY . . 273
A Memorial of a Great Event — India under Aurungzebe
and hi:% Successors — The East India Companies and
their Rivalries — The Dutch in India ; their Arrogance
— England and France in the Carnatic — Dupleix and
his Schemes of Dominion — Robert Clive — The De-
fence of Arcot — Supremacy of the British in Hindostan
— Suraj-ud-Dowlah and the English in Calcutta —
Capture of Calcutta — The Massacre of the Black Hole
— Mr. Holwell's Account of the Transaction — The
Expedition from Madras ; Victory and Revenge —
The Conspiracy to dethrone the Suba ; Omichund
and his Treachery — " Diamond cut Diamond ; "
Clive's Device — Opinions of Mill and Macaulay on
his Conduct — The War against the Nabob ; Clive in
Command — Question of risking a General Engage-
ment — The Battle of Plassey and its Consequences —
Meer Jafifier, Ruler of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar —
Pecuniary Transactions of Clive with Meer Jaffier —
Further Victories — Rewards and Honours ; Return
of Clive to England — The Company's Rule in India ;
Grievances and Calamities- " Ringing the Changes
on Soubahs" — Meer Cossim and his Successors —
Further Proceedings of the Company — Clive's Third
Visit to India — How he applied the Remedy — The
Result — Conclusion.
CffiSARISM IN ROME :
A Roman Holiday — The Ides of March — Regal Rome —
Republican Rome — The Commencement of a Memo-
rable 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 — Mariiis, Sulla,
and the Social War — The Mithridatic War and the
First Civil War — The Roman Reign of Terror-
Julius Caesar— The Second Civil War — The Catiline
Conspiracy — The Greatest Crisis in the History of
Rome — The First Triumvirate — The Contest between
Caisar and Pompey — Cffisar crosses the Rubicon —
The Beginning of the End — Caesar's Laws and Policy
— The Second Triumvirate — Proscriptions and Assas-
sinations—Augustus Emperor — Influence of Cxsarism
on the World.
STRONGBOW AND KING DERMOT . .
The Land of Continual War — The Holy Angel's Com-
munication and St. Bridget — The Native Kings of
Ireland — Hungry Looks from England — Henry the
Second's Scheme, and Appeal to the Pope — The Irish
Church — King Dermot and the Lady Devorgoil —
FEDERALS AND CONFEDERATES . . .
The Missouri Compromise — John Brown — The Breach
I — Mutterings of the Storm — Fort Sumter — Bull Run
I — Progress of the War — Numerous Battles— The
! Trent Affair- Campaign of 1862— Capture of New
Orleans — The Merriinac and the l\Io7iitoi The
Struggle at Shiloh— Fighting in 1863 and 1S64— On
the Chickahominy — Lee in Virginia — Great Losses^
Conclusion of the Civil War.
THE REFORM BILL OF 1832 ....
Popular Expression of National Feeling — John Gilpin
and his Runaway Horse " Reform"— Political Cele-
brities 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 Delay
of Reform Measures— After the War ; Reform Agita-
tion ; its Supporters and Opponents — Government
Coercion — The Peterloo Massacre — Lord John
Russell's Reform Proposition in i8ig — Lord Castle-
reagh — George Canning — The Wellington Adminis-
tration; 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, Disfran-
chisement, 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.
THE ELIZABETHAN AGE 3S3
Death of Queen Mary — Proclamation in London —
Elizabeth, at Hatfield, receives the Intelligence of her
Accession to the Crown — Political and Doctrinal
Protestantism — I'he 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 De-
based Coinage — Cecil and Gresham to the Rescue —
Ecclesiastical Changes — Papal Bishops lose their Sees
— Social Condition of the People — Rogues, Vaga-
bonds, and Sturdy Beggars— The Gallows in " Merrie
England" — Mercantile P2nterprise — Maritime Adven-
tures — Drake sails round the World, and brings home
Treasure— Seeking a North-West Passage— Trade
with India— Shattering the Great Armada— Splendid
Literary Development— Shakespeare the Mirror "of
the Age and Body of the Time."
THE FIGHT AT FONTENOY 3^9
European Affairs — Maria Theresa — Frederick the
Second of Prussia— The Beginning of the War of
Succession—Battle of MoUwitz — Affairs in England
— State of Europe— Progress of the War— The British
Cabinet— The King in Germany— Battle of Dettingen
CONTENTS.
—Defeat of the French— Incidents of the Battle-
Marshal Saxe and the Invasion of England— The
Campaign of 1744 — The English Alliance — The
Campaign in Flanders — The Siege of Tournai — Battle
of Fontenoy— British Bravery— The French Repulsed
—English Hard Pressed— Defection of the Dutch
Troops— The Result— Foreign Opinions of the Fight
at Fontenoy — Conclusion.
THE MUTINIES AT SPITHEAD AND THE NORE 385
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 Centurjr Ago
— The Sweets of Liberty— The Press-gang — The
Admiralty at Portsmouth — Dangerous Higgling of
the Commissioners — The Bloody f lag hoisted — The
Settlement— Fresh Outbreak at St. Helen's— Another
Blunder— The First Bloodshed — Triumph of the Sea-
men and the Sailor's Friend — The Rising at the Nore
— Frolics of the Delegates— Proposal 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.
BRITISH CHARTERS OF LIBERTY . .401
The Barons and their Dependents — Royalty and the
Barons- -The early Charter of William and Henry I.
— Constitutions of Clarendon — The Assize of North-
ampton — King John and the Barons — The Conference
at St. Albans— The INleeting 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.
PLAGUE AND FIRE
The Seeds of Death— The First "Victims— Former
Plagues — The Portent of the Blazing Star-— Spread of
the Plague 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 I Fire I— No
Water to be Obtained — Efforts to Preserve Property
— A Walk through the Ruins — The Rebuilding of the
City.
THE SICILIAN VESPERS
National Outbreaks and their Effects — The " Roman
Empire" of the Cermans — Italy in the Middle Ages—
Her Municipal Institutions — The Hohenstauffen Em-
perors and the Popes — (nielphsand Ghibelines — Sicily
under the Saracen and the Norman Rule — Frederick
Barbaro.ssa 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 im-
va.sion of Italy — Tagliacozzo — Death 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.
FROM TORBAY TO ST. JAMES'S .449
Torbay — An ICventful Week-James's Early Designs —
His First Parliament Revenge on Titus Oates — The
Insurrections in the North .-md West ; The Battle of
Scdgemoor— The " Bloody Assizes"- Persecution of
the Nonconformists— The Dispensing Power — J'rial
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 cap-
tured, and again flies — William enters St. James's
Palace — Conclusion.
A DARK DEED OF CRUELTY . . . .465
Battle of Killiecrankie — The Chief of Glencoe— Fall of
Dundee — King James's Gift of Brandy — Tarbat and
Dalrymple — The Burning Questions of Scotland —
Estimate of Highland Loyalty — Treachery of the
Aborigines — 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
Glencoe's Quarrel — Brutalities of his Clan — Friends
of Rob Roy — Dalrymple's Objects in "rooting out"
the Thieves — The Roj'al Indemnity — Dalrj'mple'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.
THE VENGEANCE OF '89 481
The Mud-Town — The Merovingian Kings — the Carlo-
vingians — The Capets — Paris under the Capets — The
House of Valois — Troubles in the Jacquerie — Foun-
dation of the Bastille — Growth of the Bastille — The
Bourbon Kings — The Bastille and the Absolute
Monarchy — A Poet's Indignant Denunciation — An
Escape from the Bastille — The Beginning of the
Revolution — "To Arms!" — "To the Bastille!" —
Taken — The Sequel.
LONG LIVE THE BEGGARS . . . -497
A Great Inheritance and an Unworthy Heir — CharlesV. ,
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 Netherlands 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 Estab-
lishment in Spain, and Development under Philip II.
— William of Orange Nassau, the Liberator 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 Nether-
lands — The Compromise and its Object — How the
Great Petition was Presented to Margaret of Parma
— "Long Live the Beggars! Vivent les Gueux !" —
The Protestant Preachers and the Image Breakers
— King Philip and his Councillors — Alva — The Storm
bursts forth at last.
GUY FAWKES 513
A Scene in the Tower— Guy Fawkes— His Examina-
tion 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.
HAND IN HAND FOR ENGLAND . . . .529
A Night of Suspense— England's Hour of Trial— The
Growth of the Bitter Feelings between England and
Spain— The Policy of the Vatican—" Singeing the
King of Spain's Beard"— Drake's Expeditions at
Cadiz and Corunna— Playing at Peace-making— Hand
in Hand for England— I'he Spanish Scheme— The
First Day's Fighting— The Fight off Portland;
Plucking the Feathers of the Spaniards one by one—
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Correspondence between Medina Sidonia and Parma
— The Fire-Ships — The Action off Gravelines — The
Flight through the Straits — Home round the Orkneys !
— I'he Western Storms — The Return to Spain.
BIBLE AND SWORD
The Mad, Roaring Time — A happy Martyr — Nicodemus
— The Cabbage-woman's Stool — The Covenants of
1638 and 1643- Prince Charles swallows them — Char-
acter 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 jNIile Act— A Martial Student of
Quevedo — Spotting the Absentees — Four " Honest
Men " — Turner in his Nightgown — Turning a Turner
— The Fight at RuUion Green — The Torture of the
Boots — Ephraim 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 Shipwreck — The Came-
ronians — Given over to Satan — The Killing Time —
Execution of Women — The Wigtown Female Martyrs
— The True Story of John Brown — Graham's own
Confession.
DOST MAHOMED AND AKBAR KHAN
. 561
An Impressive Warning — Cabul and its Rulers — Rus-
sian Influence in Persia — General Apprehensions —
Dost Mahomed, 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 — 'I'he Army
of the Indus — Shah Soojah restored to his Throne —
The Entry into Candahar — Mistaken Notions of Shah
Soojah's Popularity — The Advance to Ghuznee — Its
Fall— Flight of Dost Mahomed — The Great Douran-
nee Order distributed at Cabul — Gallant Struggles of
Dost Mahomed — Battle of Purwan Durrah — Cabul
in Insurrection- Dost Mahomed in India — Assassina-
tion 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 — Murderof Sir W. Macnaghten
— Pitiable State cf the Army — The Retreat from Cabul
— The Khyber Pass — Lord Auckland and Lord Ellen-
borough — Revenge — The Advance into Afghanistan
— Conclusion.
THE MEN OF THE "MAYFLOWER" . .577
The Departure from Delfthaven— AVho were the Puritans
—Rise of the Party under Henry VIII., Mary, and
Elizabeth— Commencement of the Puritan Exodus—
■ Departure from England— The Voyage— Landing at
Cape Cod — The First Sunday on Shore — "Welcome,
Englishmen !"— The Colonists' First Summer— More
Emigrants arrive— Disagreements with the Merchants
—Continued Emigration of the Puritans— The Dor-
chester Adventurers— Adoption of a Confession of
Faith— Civil Laws passed— Roger Williams, one of
the Noblest of the Pilgrim Fathers— Intolerance of
the Puritans— Laws against Witchcraft— Progress of
the Colonies.
THE MASSACRE OF SCIO • • 593
The Centuries ofTurkish Despotism— Origin and Fierce
Tempeiof 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 Fight-
ing 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 /Egean —
First Cruise of the Greek Fleet— Timid Scio— Indi-
vidual Sacrifice and National Aspiration Why 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 Ven-
geance of Kanaris — The Fire-ships — Fate of two
thousand Turks — Navarino and the Independence of
Greece.
JOHN OF LEYDEN AND THE ANABAPTISTS. 609
Introduction—" Corruptio optimis pessima"— The Pea-
sants' War — Rise of the Anabaptists — Luther's return
to Wittenberg — Principles of the Anabaptists— John
of Leyden— Arrival of Mattys and Bockelson in
Miinster— Anabaptism triumphant — The City Be-
leaguered—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.
WHAT CAME OF THE BEGGARS' REVOLT . 623
How Duke Alva superseded Margaret of Parma — Ar-
rival of Alva in Brussels— General Apprehension of
Evil — The Treacherous Calm — Arrest of Counts Eg-
mont and Horn — Escape of Hoogstraten— Trial and
Condemnation of the I'wo Counts — Egmont's Last
Letter to the King — The Execution in the Market-
place at Brussels — How Duke Alva ruled in the
Netherlands— The Reign of Terror— The Council of
Blood— Vargas and His Colleagues— Atrocities and
Oppression — Departure of Margaret of Parma— Wil-
liam of Orange, the Champion of Religious Liberty
— His Defeat by Alva — The Duke's Insolence and
Pride— The Statue — Taxation and Resistance —
The Resignation of Alva— Renewal of the Contest—
Beggarsof the Sea— Alva's Successors— The Struggle
and the Triumph— Death of William the Silent-
Conclusion.
THE REIGN OF TERROR 641
A History crowded into Two Years— From the loth of
August, 1792, to the 9th of Thermidor, 1794— What
followed the taking of the Bastille — Triumph of the
Populace ; the Mob at Versailles— The King, the
Queen, and the Veto— The National Assembly— Al-
terations L'l the Laws— The Enemies of the Revolu-
tion ; the King's Flight— The Cordeliers and the
Jacobm Clubs— Detection and Ruin— Drouet and
Varennes — The King's Return— Foreign Powers;
The Beginning of a Long War— The Oath to the
Constitution— Meeting of the Legislative Assembly-
Events to the 10th of August— The Fall of the
Monarchy— The 20th of June, 1792.— The Mob at
the Tuileries— Down with the Veto — The Duke of
Brunswick and his Manifesto — The Insurrection of
the loth of August — Downfall of the Monarchy —
The National Convention — France a Republic ;
Transition to the Reign of Terror— The September
Massacres— Trial and Execution of the King— The
Fall of the Girondists— Dumouriez— The Terror at
its height.
GALLANT KING HARRY 657
The Cause of the War— The Condition of France in
1415— Henry's Preparations for War — More Attempts
at Diplomacy — Traitors in Henry's Camp — Discovery
and Punishment of the Conspirators — The Fleet sets
Sail — The Siege of Harfleur — Gallant Defence of the
French — Negotiations for the Surrender of the Town
— The Fall of Harfleur and Ceremony of giving up
the Keys — Continuance of the Campaign — The Pre-
parations of the French for a great Battle — The De-
fence of the Somme — Henry finally crosses the River
— The Sight of the French on the Plains of Agincourt
— The Night before the Battle — The Disposition of
the opposing Forces — The Attack of the Archers —
The Brilliant Charge of the Constable of France —
Defeat of the First Division of the French — Forward
Movement of the English— Defeat of the Second
Division and Flight of the Third Division of the
French — Incidents of the Battle — Henry's Return to
England.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
THE TEMPERANCE MOVEMENT ... .673
"Adam's Ale " and Noah's Wine — Temperance of the
Ancients — Old Testament Temperance — Temperance
of Early Christians — Temperance in Later Ages —
Spirits and Anti-Liquor Legislation — Anti-Spirit
Movement, 1S29-32 — Development of "Teetotalism,"
1832-35 — Joseph Livesey's Teaching — The Rechabite
Order, 1835 — Abstinent Temperance League, 1835-37
— Ireland and Father Mathew, 183S-40 — Teetotal
Life Insurance, 184c — Organization and Work,
1841-49 — A Decade of Organization, 1850-60 — Sun-
day Closing Association, 1861-63 — Permissive Bill and
Local Option, from .864 — Temperance Public-houses,
1867 — Establishment of Good Templary, 1868-72 —
Medical Temperance Movement, from 1873 —
Denominational Movements, 1873-80 — Auxiliary
^Movements and Special Work, 1880-82 — Conclusion.
THE ARREST OF THE FIVE MEMBERS . 689
Flight of the Royal Family — A Gay Scene on the
Thames — The People's Kings — Incompatibilitj^ of
Temper between Charles and England — The Long
Parliament — The Earl of Strafford sacrificed — The
Queen threatened — Charles's Scottish Trip — King
Pym — A Plague-rag in the House — Dreadful Mas-
sacre in Ulster — What about the Army ? — Peep at
the Inside of the House of Commons in 1641 — Some
of the Leaders — The Grand Remonstrance — Eleven
Years without a Parliament — The Policy of
"Thorough" — Pillory and other Iniquities — What
the Long Parliament had done already — The Great
Debate — Bloodshed imminent between the Parties —
What Mr. Oliver Cromwell had resolved on — Citizens
fired on at Westminster — The Whitehall Guard — The
Bishops sent to the Tower — The New Year opens,
1642 — Impeachment of Pym and other Members —
Their Chambers Sealed — The Action of the Houses
— The Lord ]\Iayor gone to Bed — King marches into
the Commons — The Birds Flown — Raising of the
Royal Standard.
THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR . . . .705
Marat and Charlotte Corday — The Murder of Marat —
The Effects of Marat's Death — The Law of the Sus-
pected — The Fate of the Captive Queen — Progress of
the "Terror" — How the Convention carried on the
War — " Death to the Traitors ! " — " Woe to the Cities
of the Vanquished ! " — The Republic on the Battle-
field — The Fall of the Hcbertists — Danton and his
Followers ; Their Struggle and their Extinction — The
Darkest Period before the Dawn — The Ninth of Ther-
midor — The End of the Terror and of the Terrorists.
RIZZIO AND DARNLEY 721
Return of Queen Mary from France— Weakness of the
Scottish Sovereigns— Her First Mass — Sketch of
Darnley's Early Life and Character — He kisses her
Hand at Wemj'ss Castle— Unpopularity of the Marri-
age — Flight of Murray and Other Nobles — The
Career and Character 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 Con-
tempt for Him — Rise of Bothwell — Some of His Ad-
ventures — Mary's Visit to the Hermitage — Getting
Rid of Darnley — The Croaking of the Raven —
Darnley's Murder — The Queen's Complicity — Both-
well's Sham Acquittal and Marriage with the Queen
— His Flight from Scotland and Death in Draxholm
Castle— His Fate.
MAGELLAN'S GREAT VOYAGE . . . . ;
The Sea of Pitchy Darkness — Former Discoveries — Fer-
nando 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 Is-
lands — 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 Con-
tinued — Arrival and Reception at Borneo — The Voy-
age Home — Run into danger at Cape Verde Islands
— Escape and Arrival in Spain — Conclusion.
•WYATT'S INSURRECTION 753
The National Dislike to the Spanish Marriage — An In-
surrection proposed — Arrival of the Spanish Embassy
— The Insurrectionists' Final Meeting — The Leaders
Depart to Arouse 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 — W^'att'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.
Sir Robert Peel explaining His Free Trade Policy in the House of Commons.
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION:
THE STORY OF THE ANTI-CORN-LAW LEAGUE.
" I suspect that there are very few workmen or women who know how much they have gained by the change of policy-
of this country that took place under the Government of Sir Robert Peel in the year 1846." — Mr. Bright at Rochdale, i88i-
A Field-Night in the Commons— Important Question— Rumoured Change of Policy— Repeated Surprises— A Lion iia.
the Path — Protection in England — 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— Establishment 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— Mr. John Bright —
The Melbourne Government ; Its Apathy and its Fall— Erection of the Free Trade Hall in Manchester— Indications-
of Change — The Queen's Speech of 1841 and its Forecast— Sir Robert Peel— Lord George Bcntinck and the " Stable
Mind "—Peel's Reservation of Freedom of Action concerning the Com 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 — Cobden's Appeal to the Prinie Minister — Dismay of the Protectionists
— The Heat of the Battle— Zeal and Activity of the League— Important Recruits to the Free Trade Ranks— The C9n-
dition of the British Labourer — Remedies Proposed — Mr. Bright's Description of the Peasant's Lot — The Irish Famine
— Triumph of Free Trade — Famine forcing Peel's Hand — Summary and Conclusion.
A Field-Ntght m the House of
Commons.
MONG tlie sights that a stranger in
London or a provincial visitor deems
himself fortunate to be privileged to
witness, may be ranked as first in importance
what is known as a field-day, or, more properly
speaking, a field-night, in the House of Com-
mons ; and the eagerness to view such a
spectacle is increased by the fact that, like
an eruption of Mount Vesuvius or Etna, it
cannot be arranged for beforehand, but the
visitor must trust to fortune, and thank the
propitious Fates if they should find hint
standing-room in Strangers' or Speaker's
Gallery at such a fortunate moment ; for he-
can then hardly fail to see and hear men and
things that will give him food for reflection
for many a day to come.
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
Especially to be envied was the stranger
who, by diplomacy or any other open or
occult art, had been able to provide himself
with the "open sesame" to the Strangers'
Gallery, and, so provided, had succeeded in
effecting an entrance to the House of Com-
I mons, on the evening of the 22nd of January,
1846/ For that was a field-night such as
, had not been beheld since the struggle over
j the first Reform Bill fourteen years before ;
i and the House itself, hke the outside public,
was on the tiptoe of expectation. It was not
only that this was the first night of a new
session, the Queen ha.ving that day — as was,
indeed, Her Majesty's custom in that earlier
period of her reign — opened Parliament in
person. There were rumours in the air of
an impending surprise, of an announcement
to be made, from a high and influential
quarter, that should thrill one section of the
community with triumphant joy, while it
paralysed another with indignant wonder ;
and every seat in the House was taken, and
even the standing-room was thickly occupied
by honourable members, while the Speaker's
and the Strangers' Gallery were filled to over-
flowing ; and the one question that had
l)een passed from mouth to mouth, during
hours of expectancy, was, " What will he do ? "
It was asked concerning the great statesman.
Sir Robert Peel, First Lord of the Treasury,
and consequently Prime Minister of the
Tory Government then in power.
An Important Question ; A Change of
Policy Rumoured.
About six weeks previously, on the 4th of
December, the Times had suddenly come
out with the announcement that at the
meeting of Parliament the Prime Minister
would propose the repeal of the Corn Laws ;
and to the chorus of indignant denial set up
by the Conservative, or as it was called the
Tory press, had most expHcitly reiterated
the statement on the 6th. "We adhere to
our original announcement," wrote the lead-
ing journal, " that Parliament will meet early
ia January, and that a Repeal of the Corn
i Laws will be proposed in one House by Sir
\ Robert Peel, and in the other by the Duke
•of Wellington." The very rumour of such
a contingency had been enough to make
: each particular hair on the country gentle-
men's heads " to stand on end, like quills upon
the fretful porcupine,'' and to bring about a
split in the Cabinet, that had occasioned the
PriiTie Minister to go down to Windsor and
tender his resignation, which had, indeed,
"been accepted, and Lord John Russell, whom
the irony of fate often put up as an opponent
to the great Sir Robert, had been commis-
sioned to form a Ministry. But here, as on
various other occasions, before and after-
wards, Lord John had verified the assertion
of the facetious Mr. Ptmch by proving too
small for the place ; and failed signally to
bring together a Cabinet that would act with
him ; the point of difference being that
"burning question," the repeal or retention
of the Corn Laws. And as in the nursery
rhyme the little dog laughed to see such
sport, did the great organization that had
been working incessantly for years to convert
the country from the principles of Protection
to those of Free Trade, watch the conflict
between the statesmen, seeing in the strife
the foreshadowing of its own ultimate
triumph. It was the very crisis of a long
and bitterly waged fight.
So Sir Robert had returned to power,
summoned back to his post by the com-
mand of the Queen, and feeling, he de-
clared, "like a man restored to life after
his funeral service had been preached ; " —
and a note of warning had been struck,
much calculated to flutter the Volscians in
the Protectionist camp, by a paragraph in
Her Majesty's speech that seemed to indi-
cate a turn of the tide in the direction of
Free Trade. " I have had great satisfaction,"
so the words run, " in giving my assent to the
measures which you have presented to me
from time to time calculated to extend com-
merce and to stimulate domestic skill and
industry, by the repeal of prohibitive, and
the relaxation of protective, duties. I recom-
mend you to take into your early consideration
whether the principle on which you have
acted may not with advantage be yet more
extensively applied." This sounded ominous,
and had a flavour about it exceedingly dis-
tasteful to the country party ; but still they
kept up their spirits, while the formal business
of proposing and seconding the address to
the Crown, thanking Her Majesty for her
gracious speech, was got through ; and then,
amid breathless silence, and somewhat con-
trary to the routine that on most occasions
he was scrupulously exact in maintaining,
the Prime Minister rose like a tower from
his seat at Mr. Speaker's right hand, and the
House listened in hushed expectation for the
words that should verify the rumours that
had been flying about so long, or set them
at rest at once and for all, as the country
gentlemen hoped, by a categorical denial.
Such were the anticipations of that import-
ant moment ; one of those that seem to
entertain the concentrated interest of years,
and are remembered ever after.
An Unmitigated Surprise ; Triumph
AND Discomfiture of Opposite Parties.
On this occasion the measured and some-
what old-fashioned oratory of the veteran chief
was certainly not shortened. The speech was
long and exhaustive, and bristling with figures
and statistics ; but it was enough to convince
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
even the most incredulous among the party
who had looked upon Peel as the strong
bulwark of Protection, that beneath the
shadow of that fortress they could seek shelter
no more. For he made it abundantly clear,
even to their reluctant perception, that his
opinions had undergone a change, gradual,
but complete in its development, under the
influence of the arguments that had been
perseveringly brought before him ; and with
lengthening faces they listened to an exposi-
tion in favour of Free Trade from the eloquent
lips of him whom they had deemed their
champion against that, to them, utterly per-
nicious doctrine ; and they gazed at each
other with blank astonishment and dismay.
They might almost have been pictured mur-
muring to each other in the words of Lord
Salisbury to Falconbridge in Shakespeare's
King John : " What think you ? You have
beheld — or have you read or heard ? or could
you think ? or do you almost think, although
you see that you do see? Could thought,
without this object, form such another ? " and
so they sat disconsolate.
Another Surprise ; A Lion in the
Path.
The surprises of that eventful evening were
not yet exhausted. When Lord John Russell
had spoken a few words on his own account,
there sprang up an honourable member, and,
to the astonishment of the House, and the
covert delight of many of the Tory repre-
sentatives, began a speech bristling with
sarcasm as a porcupine with quills, and full
of the strongest invective against the Prime
Minister. When Addison's Mr. Spectator
paid that memorable visit to the Assizes with
Sir Roger de Coverley, and the good knight
made the famous oration that was to give him
an appearance in the eyes of his guest and of
the county, the country people were noticed
by that acute observer to be penetrated with
admiration that Sir Roger was not afraid " to
speak before the judge." A similar feeling of
admiration seems to have seized the country
gentlemen on that January night for the
member of their party who was not afraid to
attack the Premier, for whom they still felt a
lingering awe and admiration. No such feel-
^ ing hampered the vituperative oratory of Mr.
j Benjamin Disraeli, member for the county of
' Bucks. He had been nine years in Parlia-
) ment, had offered his services to more than
f one party, and had been persistently cold-
shouldered ; and now his opportunity was
come, and, like a clever man, he took the tide
at the flood, and it led him on to fortune ;
for, reversing the order of Shakespeare's
metaphor, until then the voyage of his Parlia-
mentary life had to a certain extent been
" bound in shallows and in miseries." He
thundered against what he called the Prime
Minister's inconsistency, and roundly accused
him of having betrayed his followers. " I am
not one of the converts," he cried ; " I am
perhaps a member of a fallen party " (he had
begun his parliamentary career as a Radical).
''To the opinions I have expressed in this
House in favour of Protection I still adhere.
They sent me to this House, and if I had
relinquished them, I should have relinquished
my seat also." He drew a striking picture of
the trust his party had reposed in Peel, and
the pride and joy they had felt in seeing him
raised to power in 1841. "Well do we re-
member," he cried, "on this side of the
House — not, perhaps, without a blush — the
efforts we made to raise him to the bench
where he now sits. Who does not remember
the sacred cause of Protection, for which
sovereigns were thwarted, Parliament dis-
solved, and a nation taken in?" His per-
sonal sarcasm against the Premier was most
galling; and he made a great hit when he
likened him to a man who got up behind a
carriage and then affected to be " a great
whip"; — and accused him of watching the
atmosphere and trimming his sails according
to the quarter from which the wind blew.
The great statesman whom he attacked is de-
scribed as sitting first in bewildered astonish-
ment, and afterwards striving, not altogether
successfully, to maintain his composure under
an attack as unexpected as it was tremendous.
The languid House woke up into fierce ex-
citement ; and when at last the sitting was
adjourned, the two sides in the great struggle
had each learned a notable truth, — the Free
Traders that they had gained to their side the
most astute and powerful of their opponents ;
the Protectionists, that they had found a tre-
mendous Parliamentary gladiator to fight for
them with a weapon more keen and trenchant
than had ever been wielded in their cause
during all the years the fray had lasted.
We have now to describe — of necessity with
brevity — the nature and progress of this
battle of Free Trade against Protection.
How the System of Protection was
Established in England.
The principle of Protection, or the guard-
ing of a certain interest from interference, by
restricting foreign competition, is found in
the policy of various nations from early
times. In England the system may be
looked upon as the outcome and the legiti-
mate successor of those monopolies against
which we find Parliament protesting, with a
certain measure of success, so early as
the days of Queen Elizabeth. The patent
granted to the favourite Essex for the sale
of sweet wine from Portugal, and withdrawn,
by the way, by his angry mistress when he
fell under her displeasure, on the ground that
" an unruly horse must be stinted of his pro-
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
vender," was simply an illustration of Protec-
tion in its crudest form ; the sacrifice of the
general interest to the profit of the one.
Protection differed from monopoly in that
it substituted for the favoured individual a
favoured class.
More than two hundred years ago, when
Colbert, the famous French minister whose
name is so closely connected with the silk
manufacture of Lyons, asked the French
merchants what he could do to advance the
interests of commerce, their judicious reply
was : " Laissez-nous faire," — " Let us manage
for ourselves," — and in this ansv/er was in-
volved the principle of Free Trade, which
allows full scope to the industry and energies
of all, repudiating the interference which
would put a stop to competition, and has
been generally found to foster idleness and
apathy. In the last century there were men
who took the side of Free Trade or unrestricted
competition and commei-cial interchange
between nations, against the opinion that
could only see the present advantage to the
producer in receiving a higher price for what
he had to sell. David Hume, among the
subjects of his admirable Essays, discussed
that of Free Trade. Adam Smith, in his " En-
quiry into the Origin and Causes of the Wealth
of Nations," brought a truly philosophic mind
to bear upon the question ; and practical
Benjamin Franklin spoke out very plainly
and sensibly on the maxin of " not governing
too much." " It were to be wished," he says,
" that commerce was as free between all the
nations of the world as it is between the
several counties of England ; so would all,
by mutual communication, obtain more en-
joyments. Those counties do not ruin one
another by trade ; neither would the nations.
No nation was ' ever ruined by trade, even
seeming the most disadvantageous. Wher-
ever desirable superfluities are imported,
industry is excited ; and, therefore, plenty is
produced. Were only necessaries permitted
to be purchased, men would work no more
than is necessary for that purpose."
The Corn Lav/s, and their Intro-
duction.
It was on the article of corn, as the pro-
duct most affecting the interests of the com-
munity at large, that the question between
Protection and Free Trade was actually fought
cut ; but the principle applies equally to all
interchangeable articles.
When in 1814 the Empire of the great
Napoleon was overthrown, and his vindictive
continental system, that had aimed at ruin-
ing Great Britain by closing Europe against
her, came to a sudden end, a complete rever-
sal of industrial and commercial relations
ensued. The ports of Europe were thrown
open to the commerce of Britain, while hers
were for a time in like manner opened to the
produce of foreign lands. It was soon found
that in many respects England had what is
familiarly termed "the pull" of her Continen-
tal competitors. Her excellent machinery
and processes of manufacture enabled her to
leave Continental nations far behind, in the
production of articles of hardware, etc.; and
thus a cry arose, first in France, and after-
wards in North and South Germany, and
the other European nations, for the establish-
ment of safeguards for native industries,
though it has been well observed that the
term " native industry " can only be properly
applied to those branches for whose cultiva-
tion the country is peculiarly fitted, and
should not be made to include those that
must be kept from withering by artificial aid.
Thus a system of protection became generally
adopted abroad ; the importation of British
manufactures being seriously checked by
high, and in some cases almost prohibitive,
duties, on the plausible principle of the en-
couragement of home industry. This was
the more grievous for England, as her
manufacturers had lost the market, that had
been kept in an inflated condition, for certain
articles, by the requirements of the war.
Peace brought witli it a cessation of a
demand that had kept thousands employed ;
and many factories could no longer fincl
work for their hands. The Continental
nations, on the other hand, while closing
their ports against English manufactures,
were very ready to find in England a market
for their agricultural produce, and con-
sequently glutted the English markets with
cargoes of foreign corn, until the English
farmers cried out in dismay that they were
being ruined, and would no longer be able to
pay the rents demanded by their landlords,
unless they were protected against this -influx
of foreign corn. The Legislature, the Upper
House being composed exclusively, and the
Lower very generally, of landed proprietors,
took the alarm ; and in 181 5, a new Corn
Law was passed that practically stopped the
importation of grain from abroad, by the
imposition of an enormous customs duty.
Until home grown corn had reached the
price of Soj. per quarter, there could be no
supply from beyond seas ; for till that figure
had been touched, the ports were closed.
Thus, although plentiful and abundant
supplies might be ready for the relief of
want, legislation forbade those supplies to be
brought to the homes where they would have
been welcome.
The Remonstrances of the People,
and how they were received.
Naturally this artificial raising of the price
of the nation's food excited great discontent.
First there were earnest petitions from the
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
manufacturing districts, which were uni-
formly disregarded; then there were riots, for
which men were hanged. The starving
labourers turned out in desperation, and
burned ricks and barns ; in some instances
the military had to be called out to disperse
the mobs. Those were the days of repression
and harshness. The expression of popular
discontent was treated as a crime ; and the
infamous proceedings in St. Peter's Fields,
Manchester, the " Peterloo massacre," in
which an unarmed meeting, containing a
large contingent of women and children, was
driven asunder by a charge of cavalry, with
a result of six persons killed and some
seventy wounded, was an instance of the
spirit in which popular remonstrance was met.
The distress in the country was meanwhile
great. It would be well for those who talk
and write of the decline of national prosperity
in England within the last half century to
refer to authentic accounts of the period
immediately succeeding the great war, and
previous to the passing of the Reform Bill of
1832. Wages were low, and the price of
bread was high. Employment was fluctuat-
ing, and the majority of the labouring popula-
tion had to eke out their starvation pay with
a parish dole. One of their poets well
described their condition, when he wrote, — •
•' A blessed prospect :
To slave while there is strength — in age
the workhouse,
A parish shell at last, and the little bell
Tolled hastily for a pauper's funeral ! "
In general, while the farmers, influenced by
the landlords, and naturally anxious to obtain
a good market for their produce, were Pro-
tectionists, the manufacturers, who found
foreign markets closed against them by the
Protective system, and chafed at the restric-
tion it put upon their industry, were Free
Traders ; and thus it may be said that to a
great extent the representatives of agricul-
ture and trade were arrayed against each
■other. The artizans in the towns were keenly
alive to the causes that rendered the food of
their families dear and scarce ; as for the
labourers, they were generally conscious only
of a vague feeling of hunger and misery. It
was natural, therefore, that the great centres
of manufacturing industry like Manchester,
should be the places whence the first practical
complaint and remonstrance against the ex-
isting state of things proceeded ; for these
towns, while they wanted cheap ibod, had no
interest in raising, or keeping up, the price
of corn.
Protection to British Sailors and
Shipping; How the System Worked.
Another remarkable development of Pro-
tective doctrines was found in the system of
the Navigation Laws, which restricted the
carrying of British produce to British ships,
and insisted that three-fourths of the crew of
a British vessel should be Englishmen. The
Americans and Continental nations were not
slow to adopt the same policy ; and conse-
quently ships were continually returning in
ballast after delivering their cargoes, and two
voyages were made for one profit. It seems
almost incredible that the voice of the
people and of common sense was not more
loudly heard during the period after the great
war ; but in those days of dear books and
scanty instruction the opinion of the nation
was little heard in Parliament ; nor could
it, indeed, be considered as in any way
adequately represented. One great evil of
the system that kept foreign wheat out, until
the home market had risen to 80^. per quarter,
was found in the extraordinary fluctuations to
which it gave rise. The price of wheat at
the commencement of 181 7 was a 104^'. per
quarter ; by the middle of the year it had risen
to 1 1 2s. 6d. per quarter, which brought the
price of the quartern loaf to is. loci. Naturally
at such prices foreign wheat began to pour
in ; but those were the days of slow postage,
long passages, and no telegraphs ; so that by
the time the great supply arrived, and the
market was thoroughly glutted with foreign
wheat, a bountiful harvest brought down the
price with a run, to the consternation of
the farmer, who, in 1821, for instance, saw
wheat go down to below 39^. per quarter, and
wondered how on earth he was to pay his
rent out of such prices. So that, under the
system pursued, when the labourer and
artizan enjoyed a cheap loaf, and could satisfy
their children's hunger, the farmer was groan-
ing and lamenting that low prices would be
his ruin : and that he would never be able to
raise the rent he had bound himself to his
landlord to pay.
In 1 822, a slight alteration in the Com Laws
was made by Lord Liverpool, who fixed
yos. instead of Zos. as the price at which
English corn must stand before foreign com
was let into the market. It never had any
practical effect. During the six years it re-
mained in operation, no foreign wheat came
into the market, for the English article never
touched the stipulated price of yos. The
Government of the Duke of Wellington, who
became Prime Minister after the death of
Canning in 1827, included Mr. Huskisson
and Sir Robert Peel ; and an epoch was
marked in the history of the Corn Laws by the
introduction of the sliding scale, — an inge-
nious contrivance for regulating the duty on
foreign corn according to the price of home
grown produce ; the duty on foreign corn to
be highest when the price for English corn
was lowest, to give the Bi-itish farmer the
priority of sale. Thus when English wheat
was selling for less than 62s. per c|uarter, the
duty on foreign wheat was to be 25^'. ^d. ; as
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
English wheat rose shilling by shilling in
price, the duty on foreign wheat was to 'de-
crease in the same ratio : thus the price was
always kept up, to the detriment of the com-
munity and for the benefit, not so much of
the farmers, whose rents were calculated on
the basis of high prices for corn, as of the
landlords, the owners of the soil.
Scarcity and its Effects ; First
Efforts against the Corn Laws.
It will be easily understood that the
grievance connected with the high price of
corn kept increasing as the population aug-
mented, and the productive power of the
land remained the same. While harvests
were tolerably abundant, the question re-
mained in abeyance; but in 1836, when trade
was in a depressed state, and the harvest
failed, — when the price of wheat rose simulta-
neously with the fall of wages and scarcity of
work — considerable agitation was felt, and the
Corn Laws became again the objects of violent
and adverse criticism. It was a well-known
saying of Napoleon's, that most political re-
volutions have had their origin in famine.
That great revolution in political economy
that ended in substituting the principle of
Free Trade for a system of Protection, cer-
tainly had its source in the feeling of the
inconvenience of having the price of bread
high, at a time when wages were low and
work was scarce.
The first practical sign of an attempt to
get partially rid of the Corn Laws was seen in
the proposal of Mr. Clay in the House of
Commons to substitute for the sliding scale
a fixed duty on grain oiios. per quarter. The
proposal met with scanty support, and was
negatived on division by 223 votes to 89;
so unpromising seemed the prospect of im-
pressing any change in this direction on
a House in which, as a rule, the members
cared a great deal more for the interests of
land than for those of labour. But a move-
ment began in London outside the House of
Commons, and a kind of anti-corn-law asso-
ciation was formed, the precursor of the far
more vigorous organization that, after passing
through many vicissitudes, succeeded infixing
the eyes of the nation upon the cause it repre-
sented, and in carrying that cause trium-
phantly through.
At this time of day, when Free Trade
principles have become firmly rooted in
England, it is hardly possible to appreciate
the amount of difficulty encountered by those
who first attempted to storm the Protectionist
stronghold in England.
Formation of the Anti-Corn-Law
League ; Its Leaders.
It was in 1838, not long after the accession
of Queen Victoria, that the great and wide-
spread commercial distress in Lancashire,
particularly in the town of Bolton-le-Moors,
where thirty out of fifty factories had closed
their doors, and five thousand workmen were
without employment and without bread, led
to the formation of the great association at
Manchester, known as the Anti-Corn-Law
League ; with the avowed object of procuring
an entire repeal of the duty on corn, and
thus securing cheap bread for the English
people. The immediate occasion was an
animated speech of Dr., afterwards Sir John,
Bowring, who, at a meeting in Manchester,
through which town he happened to be
passing, spoke with forcible and incisive
eloquence against the Corn Laws, their princi-
ple, and their lamentable effects, as seen in
the destitution around. The time for agita-
tion had come ; and the committee of the
newly formed association could not have had
a better text to comment on than the anomaly
of an artificial barrier erected against the
supply of food to a population who were
starving. In October 1838, the first lists of
the Provisional Committee of the new associ-
ation were published ; and in the first and
second respectively appear the names of
John Bright and Richard Cobden. Soon after,
an executive committee was appointed of
twelve gentlemen, six of whom remained in
office throughout the whole seven years
during which the League continued its labours.
Among their number we read the names of
Richard Cobden, the most illustrious of the
members; of Archibald Prentice, to whose
energetic action the formation of the League
in the first instance was in a great measure
due ; and of Mr. George Wilson, whose
enlightened views on political economy, elo-
quently and lucidly put forth, had a great
share in ensuring its success. The Man-
chester Chamber of Commerce joined heartily
in the objects proposed by the League ; and
a determination to sending a petition to Par-
liament praying for the abolition of the Corn
Laws was adopted and carried out. It had
no immediate effect ; for the President of the
Chamber, Mr. Wood, overawed by the temper
of the House, in speaking of the state of
commerce and manufacture throughout the
country, blunderingly described it as very
prosperous ; which gave Sir Robert Peel and
the Tories an opportunity of using the very
obvious argument — " Then why agitate for
change, if things go so well with you ? " and
Lord Melbourne, who was at the head of the
Ministry, had an occasion of applying his
favourite maxim of quieta non movere, or,
as he famiharly and tersely put it, " Look
here, can't you leave it alone ? "
The Voice of the Free Traders Raised
in and out of Parliament.
When Mr. Villiers, one of the most brilliant
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
and useful recruits of the League at its out-
set, in pursuance of a resolution arrived at
in one of the Association's earliest meetings,
proposed in his place in Parliament that
certain witnesses should be heard at the bar
of the House in reference to the petition
against the operation of the Corn Laws, the
motion was negatived by more than two to
one. It was evident that the League, if it
wished to prosper, must look, in the first in-
stance, for support outside the walls of Parlia-
ment, and must seek to move that august
assembly, if it were to be moved at all, by
pressure exercised from without.
To that task the members devoted them-
selves with an earnestness and thoroughness
that were well calculated to ensure success. So
soon as the Anti-Corn- Law Association had
formed itself into a League, a system was
as he had already in the field ; Daniel
O'Connell, the great Irish agitator, who from
the first gave the League his free and hearty
support ; and Mr. Joseph Hume, who had
the reputation throughout the country of
being a sound economist, and who, within
the walls of Parliament was the bete noire
of Chancellors of the Exchequer, and of aU
such as wanted to conjure money out of
the pockets of the British nation, in the
shape of taxes and imposts of any kind.
Meanwhile the action of Mr. Villiers in
Parliament was alike energetic and valu-
able.
True to Mr. Cobden's idea that the nation,
required to be instructed in the principles of
Free Trade, the League, with admirable
astuteness, made use of the services of
enthusiastic and eloquent speakers, to de-
Statue of Sir Robert Peel at Leeds.
thoroughly organised for establishing similar
associations in various important commercial
and manufacturing centres, that gradually
the whole natioi; might be drawn into co-
operation with the central body, who had
their office in Newall's Buildings, Market
Street, Manchester. There the delegates
from great towns met, and the programme
to be carried out was discussed. The great
force furnished by a powerful organisation
was used to the best advantage ; and the
result, in gradually converting the country
to the principles of Free Trade, was marvel-
lous. Soon the chiefs of this great and
peaceful crusade could boast of many emi-
nent men attracted to their banners, and
induced to co-operate heartily in their cause:
Sir de Lacy Evans, the gallant officer, who
was making for himself a name in politics
liver lectures in various parts of the country^
explaining what Protection and Free Trade
respectively meant, and pointing out the
tendency of each. Such lectures were de-
livered by hundreds, — by Mr. Poulton and
others, and by Mr. Cobden, who was the
leadmg spirit of the movement. Deputations
waited upon the members of the Ministry,
who, though they received their unwelcome
visitors with cold official dignity, and did
not even vouchsafe to send away the dele-
gates with "the chamehon's diet, promise
crammed," yet became aware perforce that
this Corn Law question was assuming an
unpleasantly prominent character, and would
ultimately have to be taken in hand in some
way or other ; and that the longer that duty
was delayed, the more unpleasant it was
likely to become.
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
The Penny Post an Auxiliary to
Free Trade.
One event of the greatest moment to the
League was contributing to spread its doctrines
J, and opinions far and wide, and to promote
i a national interchange of thought and
I opinions in the country ; — the estabhsh-
ment, in 1839, of the system of uniform
'" penny postage throughout the kingdom.
The proposed innovation, hke nearly every
proposed reform, had been pitilessly sneered
at ; and even so good a Liberal as Sydney
Smith, of the Edinburgh Review and
^'Peter Plymley," had pooh-poohed it as
"nonsensical"; while Sir Robert Peel had
honoured the scheme with active and per-
sistent opposition. It was established,
nevertheless, with what results of benefit to
the world it is needless to say, though at one
time it actually cost the originator his place'
at the Post Office ; and a year or two after,
the facetious Mi: Punch was caricaturing
the Prime Minister, Sir Robert Peel, in the
character of " Britannia presenting Rowland
Hill with the sack." The new postal system
came just in time to be of vital use to the
League, one of whose chief methods of pro-
paganda was by thousands upon thousands
of tracts and pamphlets, for whose distribu-
tion and circulation far and wide the penny
post offered a ready and effectual means.
The movement had its poets, too ; witness
the works of Ebenezer Elliott, the " Corn-law
Rhymer," who, with various others, con-
tributed not a little by his lyric efforts to the
popularity of the cause of Free Trade.
The first period of the great activity of the
League was also that of the Chartist agitation,
■which was especially fierce and fiery in 1840
and 1841. It might havebeen supposed that
the Chartists would be ready to work
cordially with the Free Traders, and to hail
them as fellow-labourers in the cause of the
people. But it was not so. The demagogues
were annoyed at the thoroughly peaceful
manner in which the League carried on its
■work, and angrily denounced the Free Trade
movement as an insidious and treacherous
thing, — a political red-herring trailed across
the track of the people's rights, to divert the
.. staunch hounds of democracy from the true
' line of the chase, and set them off on a
: false issue, in which it was designed to betray
the cause of the working man, and play into
the hands of the middle classes.
A Pair of Friends ; Richard Cobden
AND His Career.
Thus the Free Trade cause not only met
with no encouragement, but actually en-
countered fierce opposition, at the hands of
the Chartists, who frequently interrupted the
proceedings of public meetings with their
outcries and invectives ; notably at Warring-
ton, where it needed all the excellent temper
and persuasive eloquence of Richard Cobden
to restore order, and prevent an appeal to
physical force.
That distinguished man and great states-
man may be considered, even more than his
friend and colleague, Mr. John Bright, as the
very heart and soul of the Free Trade move-
ment. The two men were bound together
by community of feeling on this subject and
by the hearty respect each of them enter-
tained for the character of the other, in a
friendship so close and cordial, that the
two names are always associated together,
and we speak of " Cobden and Bright " as of
Beaumont and Fletcher, or Damon and
Pythias. Both came into Parliament at the
same time, and were labourers in the same
great work, and rejoiced in the same triumph.
But the career of Mr. Bright was destined to
be longer than that of his friend and colleague,
and is associated with various great questions,
while Cobden's name is connected with the
cause of Free Trade and the commercial
intercourse of nations as the be-all and the
end-all of his political life. The son of a
Sussex yeoman, he had lost his father early,
and had been removed from school at fifteen
to enter a house of business. He had
travelled and had taken note of various sorts
and conditions of people ; and it has been
said of him that the objects that interested
him most, and called forth the energies of his
acute and inquiring mind, were not ruins, or
the beauties of scenery or the treasures of art,
but men. With a small borrowed capital of
;i^5oo he had commenced business for him-
self ; and but for the question of Free Trade
and Protection, it might never have been his
fate " the applause of listening senates to
command." For his nature was singularly
retiring and modest ; no man was ever
less inclined to put himself forward indi-
vidually, or to bid for public support or
notoriety ; and but that the great question
called him forward, and demanded the
exercise of his high ability, he might have
continued to the end of his life unknown and
unappreciated, — simply a partner in a Man-
chester cotton print firm. But when he had
once embarked in the cause, his value was
too marked to be open to any doubt ; and
his friends and colleagues acted with sound
policy when they relieved him from the cares
of a business he could not have continued
with advantage while his time and energies
were given to the strife, and by procuring
him the means to enter Parliament secured
the whole of his time and energy for its
success. As an orator his great point was
persuasiveness. His language was admirably
plain and lucid, good Saxon English, with no
attempt at ornament or flourish of style.
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
What most impressed the hearer in his
speeches was his evident earnestness and
sincerity, his deep and thorough behef in the
cause he was advocating. Mr. Justin
McCarthy, in his " History of our own Times,"
has admirably described the kind of power
by which he achieved his most brilhant
victories: — "If oratory were a business and
not an art, — that is, if its test were its success
rather than its form,— then it might be con-
tended reasonably enough that Mr. Cobden
was one of the greatest orators England had
ever known. Nothing could exceed the
persuasiveness of his style. His manner
was simple, sweet, and earnest. It was
persuasive, but it had not the kind of
persuasiveness that is only a better sort of
plausibility. It persuaded by convincing. It
was transparently sin-
cere. The light of its
convictions shone all
through it. It aimed at
the reason and the
judgment of the listener,
and seemed to be con-
vincing him to his own
interest against his
prejudices. . . . He
illustrated every argu-
ment 'by something
drawn from his per-
sonal observation or
from reading, and his
illustrations were al-
ways striking, appro-
priate, and interesting.
, . . Many strong oppo-
nents of Mr. Cobden's
opinions confessed, even
during his lifetime, that
they sometimes found
with dismay their most
cherished opinions
crumbling away be-
neath his flow of easy
argument. . . So long
as the controversy could be settled after this
fashion, — ' I will show you that in such a
course you are acting injuriously to your
own interests,' or, ' You are doing what a
fair and just man ought not to do,' — so long
as argument of that kind could sway the con-
duct of men, there was no one who could
convince as Cobden could."
Mr. Bright, his Eloquence and
Persistency.
Mr. Bright, on the other hand, had
undoubtedly greater gifts as an orator.
Throughout his long parliamentary career
there was never any danger of his speaking
to empty benches. His full and rich voice,
his commanding presence, his power of
pathos, irony, and invective, that wonderful
The Rt. Hon. John Bright
sympathetic gift of enchaining the attention
and stirring the hearts of multitudes that so
few possess, were his in the fullest measure ;
and he would have been what he was, the
Tribune of the people, the fearless denouncer
of what appeared to him to be erroneous or
wrong, the upholder of what he felt to be
just and true, sternly and uncompromisingly,
in the face of discouragement and opposition,
even if the Free Trade question had never
arisen in his time.
The Melbourne Government ; Its
Apathy and its Fall.
It has been said that thfe Melbourne
ministry opposed a kind of passive resistance
to the persistent efforts of the League to
obtain a trial of their scheme. The Premier
was true to his "let it
alone " principle, ac-
knowledging that there
might be miuch truth
in what the Leaguers
said, and that in
principle they were
undoubtedly right, but
that nations did not
always see their true
interests, and that it
would be injudicious
for England to be the
first to give way on
such a subject ; that
would not be the way to
commence negotiations
for reciprocal advan-
tages. This was dis-
couraging enough ; and
other tokens, such as
the defeat, by a majority
of much more than
a hundred, of Mr.
Villiers's motion "That
this House resolve it-
self into a Committee
of the whole House,
to take into consideration the Act of George
IV. regulating the importation of foreign
corn," showed that whatever the League had
done with the nation, the process of " in-
structing " the House of Commons was not
yet very far advanced. But the association
went on indefatigably with the work. The
great banquets held at Manchester in a tem-
porary building, where afterwards the Free
Trade Hall was erected, on the very spot in
St. Peter's Fields where the infamous Peterloo
massacre had taken place in 1819, were en-
tirely successful ; and the campaign was
carried on bravely with lectures and the dis-
tribution of pamphlets, and with public
meetings all over the country, where the
chiefs of the movement spoke with indefati-
gable zeal and persuaded many. Meanwhile
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
the Melbourne Ministry, with its inert and
careless chief, was falling into disgrace with
the nation ; and at length, in the middle of
1 84 1, a. vote of want of confidence, moved by
Sir Robert Peel, was just barely carried
against the Government, who had no alterna-
tive but to resign or dissolve Parliament.
They chose the latter alternative ; and a
i large majority for Peel was the result of the
\ General Election; for the Melbourne Govern-
\ nient, and the Whigs generally, had lost many
friends, and gained none. When the new
Parliament met, the Queen's speech con-
tained a distinct reference to the principles
of Free Trade as against Protection, but
couched in ambiguous language. Several
utterances were significant of a change, as
the froth on the wave shows the turn of the
tide.
Indications of Change ; The Queen's
Speech and its Forecast.
Protection was now evidently no longer
implicitly believed in, as a panacea for the
nation's ills. In reference to various duties
levied on imports, the Sovereign was made
to say to the House of Commons : " It will
be for you to consider whether some of these
duties are not so trifling in amount as to be
unproductive to revenue while they are vexa-
tious to commerce." (This had long been
an argument of the Free Traders, who had
declared that, in many instances, the expenses
of collection on the one hand, and the costly
machinery maintained with very partial
success against smuggling on the other,
swallowed up more than the amount of the
imposts maintained at the cost of so much
obloquy.) " You may further examine whe-
ther the principle of Protection, upon which
others of those duties are founded, be not
carried to an extent injurious alike to the
income of the State and the interests of the
people." It was not the extent to which the
principle was carried, but the principle, the
thing itself, against which the Free Traders
protested as an injustice. " Her Majesty is
desirous that you should consider the laws
which regulate the trade in corn. It will be for
you to determine whether these laws do not
aggravate the natural fluctuation of supply,"
etc. Of this there could be very little ques-
tion, even among the staunchest of Protect-
I ionists. The faint indications of a tendency
' to do something else with the Corn Laws than
" let them alone " was not sufficient to save
the Ministry, who were left in a doleful mino-
rity in a division on an amendment to the
Address, and accordingly had no choice left
but to resign.
Sir Robert Peel; His Opinions and
Reservation.
The country gentlemen and squires who
put their trust in Sir Robert Peel, who now
became Prime Minister, were not well skilled
at discerning the signs of the times, or they
would have recognised the fact that their
trusted chief was not what they would have
termed "sound" and "staunch" on the
subject of Protection ; not what poor Lord
George Bentinck, who about this time gave
up to politics and the leadership of a party
a portion of the time he had devoted to
Newmarket and Epsom, would have termed
" a man of a stable mind." At a later period
they united in accusing the great statesman
of "tergiversation." It was a good sounding
word, — like Corporal Bardolph's famous "ac-
commodation," a "soldier-like word, and a
word of exceeding good command," — and
none the less welcome to the country gentle-
men, perhaps, from the fact that many of
them did not quite understand its meaning.
It is well, therefore, to remember that upon
taking office Sir Robert distinctly declined
to pledge himself to the maintenance of the
Corn Laws, and plainly stipulated for full
freedom of private judgment on that mo-
mentous question. " If you ask me," he
publicly said, on the subject of the corn
duties, " whether I bind myself to the main-
tenance of the existing law in its detail, or
if you say that this is the condition on which
the agricultural interest give me their support,
I say that on that condition I will not accept
their support. ... If I exercise power, it
shall be upon my conception, perhaps im-
perfect, perhaps mistaken, but my sincere
conception of public duty. That power I
will not hold unless I can hold it consistently
with the mainten.ance of my own opinions."
Surely there could not be much plainer speak-
ing than this, or language that more distinctly
stipulated for freedom of opinion and action.
But the country party had got into their
heads that Peel would be a thick and thin
supporter of the Corn Laws. " The wish was
father to the thought;" and thus when Sir
Robert made use, in 1846, of the right he
had distinctly reserved to himself in 1841,
they chose to consider themselves injured
and deceived men, and cheered to the echo
the vituperative speeches in which Mr.
Benjamin Disraeli accused the Premier of
want of consistency, when Sir Robert had
only consistently exercised the right he had
claimed five years before.
It would seem that already at this time the
great statesman had some misgivings as to
the principle of Protection ; and his cha-
racter, though cautious, deliberate, and some-
what cold, had nothing of that bigotiy about
it which forbids men to advance beyond a
certain point, and pledges them irrevocably
to one set of opinions. Even Earl Russell,
j or as he was then called, " Lord John," did
not escape the reproach of at times advocat-
10
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
ing a policy of stagnation, and what many-
called anything but a masterly " inactivity " ;
and the epithet, " Finality John," bestowed
upon him at one portion of his public career,
had anything but a complimentary meaning.
Enlarged Operations of the League ;
The First Free Trade Bazaar.
At any rate, the years 1841 and 1842 were
not a time wherein even Lord John could
have consistently counselled his followers to
"rest and be thankful." The harvest of
1841 was a bad one ; trade was deplorably
bad ; great numbers were in receipt of
parochial relief in London, Nottingham,
Leeds, and other important industrial centres.
in public favour, holding meetings, distribut-
ing pamphlets,bringing together delegates from
various parts of the country, and enlisting a
large and influential contingent of the clergy
in the cause. Then also a new and most
successful means for raising the necessary
funds for carrying on the agitation was dis-
covered. The first "Free Trade bazaar"'
was held, under the superintendence of a
committee of ladies, with Mrs. Cobden for
their president, in the theatre at Manchester,
It was a huge '*' fancy fair," to which articles
were contributed from the most various
quarters. Financially it was a great success,
bringing little short of ;^ 10,000 into the
coffers of the association ; and it was still
more important from the publicity it gave to
ESS IN Liverpool ; The Home of Science and Art.
"We've got no work to do,' was the cry
among the Spitalfields weavers, the operatives
of Nottingham, and the artizans in the
manufacturing districts generally. Protec-
tive duties, as the indefatigable workeus of
the League did not fail to point out, bad not
succeeded in providing a sufficient market
for English goods ; and on the other hand, a
tax of more than 24$'. per quarter made
bread dear, while labour was so cheap.
All this could not fail to strengthen the
hands of the League. No time is so pro-
pitious for convincing people of the injustice
of a policy or principle as that during which
they are suffering actual privation and want
under its operation ; and during this time
the League accordingly made steady progress
the operations of the League by drawing
attention to its labours.
Liverpool was at that time one of the most
active centres of the League.
Deputation to London ; The Subject
OF the Corn Laws pressed on Par-
liament.
As the association increased in popularity,
and found itself making converts to its prin-
ciples all over the country, it took a bolder
and more decided tone, declaring its deter-
mination to refuse all compromise in this
important matter. Just as in 1831 and 1832
the advocates of Parliamentary Reform had
announced their resolution to accept only
" the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
Bill," the opponents of the Corn Laws now
declared for "abohtion, total abolition, and
nothing short of abohtion." A large depu-
tation of some 500 delegates came up_ to
London to press their views upon the Premier,
who, however, declined to receive them ;
whereupon they marched in a body to Palace
Yard, to the door of the House of Commons,
and amid the cheers of the people, raised
cries of " Labour and bread!" "No Corn
Law!" " No sliding scale !" Cobden pubhcly
asked, in the House, why there should be a
sliding scale for corn, when there was no
shding scale for wages ? " What I supplicate
for, on the part of the starving people," he said,
^'is that they, and not you, shall be the judges
of when corn is wanted. By what right do
yoti pretend to gauge the appetites and
measure the wants of millions of people ? "
Sir Robert Peel himself saw that the pro-
tective tariff had been screwed up, not only
to " the sticking point," but to the point a^.
which the string was more than likely to snap
and gave a very practical proof of his
opinion by the introduction of direct instead
of indirect taxation ; reviving Pitt's Income
Tax, which he succeeded in carrying in spite
of Lord John's opposition. It is a significant
fact, by the way, that the Whig leader at a
later period not only adopted his opponent's
measure, but endeavoured, unsuccessfully, to
elaborate it and derive an increased portion
of the Government resources from the In-
come Tax. The aristocratic party saw with
dismay that the popular discontent against
the Corn Laws was increasing, and would
presently, "like a bold flood, o'erbear." They
saw with dismay that now deputations were
no longer left out in the cold by the
Government ministersy but were received at
least with official courtsey, and dismissed with
a vague promise that something' should
be done for the relief of the general distress ;
and with admirable prudence the League
continued to work on strictly peaceful and
legal lines, basing its hopes of ultimate suc-
cess on the certainty of in time " instructing "
its Disponents into acquiesceace. The ques-
tion of the Corn Laws was kept persistently
before the eyes of the public as a subject of
paramount importance ; and though the
Ministers were still strong enough to com-
mand large majorities when the abolition of
the taxes on corn was brought before the
Legislature and pressed to a division, they
could not get away from the subject, which
was ever present, like the skeleton at an
Egyptian feast. Cobden appealed directly
to the Prime Minister, in whom his astuteness
had already recognised a secret leaning to-
wards the principles of Free Trade. " Would
the right honourable baronet," he asked, " re-
sist the appeals that had been made to him,
or would he rather cherish the true interests
of the country, and not allow himself to be
dragged down by a section of the aristocracy?
Lie must take sides, and that instantly ; and
should he by so doing displease his political
supporters, there was an answer ready. He
might say that he found the country in dis-
tress, and he gave it prosperity ; that he
found the people stai'ving, and he gave them_
food ; that he found the large capitalists of
the country paralysed, and he made them
prosperous."
Dismay of the Protectionists ; The
Heat of the Battle.
The dismayed country party still clung
to Peel like drowning sailors to a life buoy.
He was their great hope, the one pilot to
whom they trusted to weather the storm that
was rising around them ; and the most em-
barrassing circumstance of all was that the
great advancing host could not be kept out
by ramparts mounted with cannon and
bristling with bayonets. There was not, as
in the Chartist movement, anything about it
that could be met by the reading of the Riot
Act, and by an order to disperse, accentuated
by a charge of cavalry to follow. A rising
mob or a gathering of rick -burners might be
encountered by calling out the military ; but
you could not send the soldiers into a Free
Trade bazaar, and overthrow the tables as if
they were barricades.
One proof of the increasing hold of the
League on public opinion was soon after
given in a most satisfactory and practical
form. The organisation required the sinews
of war for carrying on its operations. A sum
of ;!^5o,ooo was raised by subscriptions with-
out any difficulty ; and this was in a time of
general distress.
But tlie Parliamentary battle had as yet
scarcely begun. The compact phalanx of
country gentlemen who stood together shoulder
to shoulder to keep out the pernicious Free
Trade doctrines, gave the Government enor-
mous majorities in the division lobbies ; and
though Mr. Villiers persisted in bringing
forward his annual motion for the abolition
of the Corn Laws, he seemed to have as
little chance of carrying it as ever. The
Tory papers raved and howled against the
Free Traders and all their works. Cobden,
the most peaceable and kindly, if one of the
most outspoken of men, was described as
having risen in his place "to hurl at the
heads of the Parliamentary landowners of
England these calumnies and taunts which
constitute the staple of his addresses to
farmers."
He was fiercely denounced as a Manchester
money-grubber, under whose blows the land-
owners of England, the representatives by
blood of the Norman chivalry, the representa-
tives by election of the industrial interests of
12
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
the Empire, ignominiously quailed and shrank.
The basest and most selhsh motives were
attributed to the Manchester school ; and
above all, the readers of the Protectionist
newspapers were entreated to remember that
the squire was the father and patron of the
agricultural community. Codlin the squire
was the friend, not Short the manufacturer ;
and the endeavour to procure cheap bread
for the working man was merely a cloak
under which the Free Traders were concealing
their nefarious design to ruin the country
gentlemen of England, to overthrow the land-
marks of the constitution (this was a very
favourite phrase), and to pull down the fabric
raised by " the wisdom of our ancestors."
Important Recruits to the Free
Trade Ranks.
But the inexorable logic of facts was stronger
than the ravings of the Morning Post, or of
the now long defunct Morning Herald,
whose hysterical ejaculations were redoubled
when the League, encouraged by the ready
colleagues. The advocates of Free Trade
could now boast the adhesion of such men
as Mr. Pattison, the Liberal member for the
city of London ; Mr. Jones Loyd, afterwards
Lord Overstone, the great banker ; and Earl
FitzWilliam, a great landowner. Moreover,
the meetings in Covent Garden Theatre were
fully and accurately reported in the London
press, whose notices, copied into the provincial
papers, gave its opinions a circulation far wider
than could be achieved by any distribution of
pamphlets, or even by the publication of the
Economist. " The enemy increaseth every
day," was the rueful conviction that gradually
forced itself upon the minds of the Protec-
tionists. And the ^100,000 was obtained for
the General Purposes Fund as promptly and
easily as the ^50,000 had been collected the
year before. Truly, 1843 was a memorable
epoch for the Anti-Corn-Law League, which
may then be said to have attained its majority.
During the next year the work was steadily
and energetically carried on. Trade im-
proved, and a good harvest brought down
The Covent Garden Theatre of the League Meetings.
response given to its appeal for money, re-
solved now to raise ^100,000 for the expenses
of the next year, and to widen and enlarge
its lines of proceeding, adding to the pam-
phlet it was distributing a newspaper, in which
the objects and arguments of the League were
to be definitely set forth. Great meetings
had already been held in Drury Lane Theatre,
in which the Free Trade doctrines, hopes, and
prospects had been explained to overflowing
and enthusiastic houses. The proprietors
had stepped in to prevent the lessee from
opening the house to the League ; but the
other great theatre, Covent Garden, was at
that time very much in the condition of the
halls of Balclutha, so far as desolation was
concerned ; and the programme of the Anti-
Corn-Law League included the taking of that
house for thirty meetings. This was done ;
and the effect was beyond the most sanguine
expectations of the committee. The speeches
were delivered by JMr.Cobden, Mr.Bright,who
was now also in Parliament, and by many
inflnential and eloquent men among their
the price of bread. But here the difficulty
inseparable from the Corn Laws again made
itself felt. If corn was cheap, what was toi
become of the farmers ? How were they to
pay their rents ? The most obvious device was
to take it out of the labourers, whose wages
were accordingly reduced in many districts
to starvation point ; and the wretched men
in too many cases sought refuge from their
misery in acts of violence and incendiarism.
Leech's celebrated cartoon, " the home of the
rick-burner," published in Piinch at this time,
made a profound impression. The pitiable
serf is represented sitting brooding in sullen
misery before his empty grate ; his wretched
children crouching in a corner ; while the
corpse of his wife, killed by starvation and
misery, lies stretched out gaunt and stiff upon
the floor ; and the thoughts that are passing
through the man's mind are indicated by the
mocking demon who offers him a torch, the
means of vengeance. But there was a better
hope looming in the distance than the pros-
pect of a wild revenge. Even the labourer
13
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
had awoke to the consciousness that men
were working to procure for him and his wife
and children the inestimable boon of cheap
food : the gospel of Free Trade was being
preached to the poor, and they heard it
gladly.
The Condition of the British Labourer
— The Iniquity of the Corn Laws.
This was forcibly illustrated by some
remarks of Mr. Bright at one of the great
meetings in Covent Garden Theatre.
After commenting on the extraordinary
statement of an opponent, a landed pro-
prietor with an income of ^8,000, who had
advanced the astounding declaration that
were he to come again into the world, and
had to choose the particular class or rank in
society to which he would belong, he would
select that of an agricultural labourer, Mr.
Bright proceeded : " Now, what is the con-
dition of this agricultural labourer, for whom
they tell us that Protection is necessary ? He
lives in a parish, whose owner, it may be,
has deeply mortgaged it. The estate is let
to farmers without capital, whose land grows
almost as much rushes as wheat. The bad
cultivation of the land provides scarcely any
employment for the labourers, who become
more and more numerous in the parish ; the
competition which there is among these
labourers for the little employment to be had
bringing down the wages to the very lowest
point at which their lives can be kept in them.
They are heart-broken, spirit-broken, des-
pairing men. They have been accustomed
to this from their youth, and they see nothing
in the future which affords a single ray -of
hope. We have attended meetings in those
districts, and have been received with the
utmost enthusiasm by those round-frocked
labourers. They would have carried us from
the carriage which we had travelled in to the
hustings ; and if a silly squire or a foolish
farmer attempted any disturbance or im-
proper interference, these round-frocked men
were all around us in an instant, ready to
defend us ; and I have seen them hustle away
many a powerful man from the field in which
the meeting was being held. . . . But the
crowning offence of the system of legislation
, under which we have been living is, that a
* law has been enacted under which it is alto-
j gether unavoidable that these industrious
\ and deserving men should be brought down
; to so helpless and despairing a condition.
By withdrawing the stimulus of competition,
the law prevents the good cultivation of the
land of our country, and therefore diminishes
the supply of food which we might derive
from it. It prevents at the same time the
mportation of foreign food from abroad, and
it also prevents the growth of supplies abroad,
so that when we are forced to go there for
them, they are not to be found. The law is,
in fact, a law of the most malignantly in-
genious character. It is fenced about in every
possible way. The most demoniacal ingenuity
could not have invented a scheme more calcu-
lated to bring millions of the working classes
of this country to a state of pauperism, suffer-
ing, discontent, and insubordination, than
the Corn Laws which we are opposing." The
speaker then reminded his hearers of the
national struggle made two centuries before
by the English nation, when a despotic and
treacherous monarch assumed to himself the
right to levy taxes without the consent of
Parhament and the people ; and indignantly
asked if, when their ancestors refused to be
the bondmen of a king, they would consent
to be the born thralls of an aristocracy, or
whether they would not by a manly and
united expression of public opinion put an
end at once and for ever to that giant wrong ?
Futile Remedies ; The Hour of
Triumph at Last.
The Protectionist cause was made worse
by the remedies for agricultural famine pro-
posed in high quarters. The Duke of
Norfolk suggested curry-powder ; a reverend
Dean considered that swedes and mangold
wurzel would make excellent food for the
labourer. On the whole, the people thought un-
taxed bread would be better than either. At
last an event occurred which, as the writer
of the " History of our Own Times " has ably
expressed it, " forced Peel's hand." In 1845,
the potato disease brought famine upon Ire-
land, and it became absolutely necessary to
open the ports to foreign corn ; and then the
League saw that the maintenance of the Corn
Laws was henceforth impossible. Sir Robert
Peel, unable to get his Cabinet to acquiesce
in what he considered the necessity for im-
mediate action, resigned on the 9th of
December ; and Lord John Russell being
sent for to form an administration, failed, as
he had done before. Then Sir Robert re-
turned to power, by the Queen's command ;
and the impressive scene took place which
has been described in the opening paragraph.
In spite of the vituperation and invective
lavished upon him by those who in their
bitter disappointment accused him of having
betrayed their confidence, the Prime Minister
carried a budget, with the total repeal of the
Corn Laws as its chief feature; and with the
triumphant passage of that budget through
Parliament, the reason for which the Anti-
Corn- Law League had been called into being
ceased to exist ; and at a meeting at Manchester
on the 2nd of July, 1846, it was proposed by
Mr. Cobden to wind up the affairs of the
association, which was accordingly done, its
work having been triumphantly brought to a
close.
14
FREE TRADE AND PROTECTION.
During all his long and distinguished
career as a statesman, Sir Robert Peel had
never done a grander thing than the abolition
of the Corn Laws; and his action in this
matter was the more honourable as it was a
distinct vindication of the rights of conscience
against political'expediency. Sir Robert was
far too experienced a politician not to know
thoroughly the price he might be called upon
to pay for his action in this matter ; how
many friends he would alienate, and to what
an amount of misconstruction and reproach
he would lay himself open. He could, in-
deed, hardly have anticipated the concen-
trated malignity with which Mr. Disraeli
pursued him to the end of the Session ; or
the extent to which that honourable member's
tirades would be cheered by delighted country
gentlemen, wondering that one small head
could carry all he knew in the way of epi-
grammatic invective ; but that he expected
to be heavily censured, he openly stated in
his memorable speech, when the great mea-
sure that set corn free was passed.
It was a grand speech, and worthy of the
occasion on which it was delivered. The
generous sentiments it expressed came with
double force from the lips of a man whose
oratory was generally somewhat cold and
unimpassioned, more calculated to convince
the reason than to rouse enthusiasm. The
noble tribute paid to one of the chiefs of the
Anti-Com-Law League certainly displays no
tokens of the self-glorification and pique with
which the late Lord Beaconsfield charged it.
On the contrary, it reads like the utterance
of a great man, raised above all party con-
siderations by the importance and solemnity
of the moment.
" The name which ought to be, and which
will be, associated with the success of these
measures," said Peel, "is the name of the
man who, acting, I believe, from pure and
disinterested motives, has advocated their
cause with untiring energy, and with appeals
to reason, enforced by an eloquence the more
to be admired because it is unaffected and
unadorned, — the name of Richard Cobden."
And, then, as though conscious that he was
standing almost at the close of his political
career, and that his tenure of power would
cease and determine with the passing of the
great measure with which his memory would
be always identified for good or for evil, he
expressed that lofty and generous hope that
since has been so fully realised. " It may
be," said the great statesman, "that I shall
leave a name sometimes remembered with
expressions of goodwill in those places which
are the abode of men whose lot it is to labour
and to earn their daily bread by the sweat of
their brow, — a name remembered with expres-
sions of goodwill when they shall recreate
their exhausted strength with abundant and
15
untaxed food, the sweeter because it is no
longer leavened with a sense of injustice."
Better words could not have been spoken
to be associated with the memory of a great
national benefit. And they were spoken in
good season ; for the price paid by Peel for
the passing of the measure was nothing less
than the Premiership itself. He had judged
quite rightly when he said that he should be
exposed to heavy censure for what he had
done, especially by the monopolists whose
interest lay in the maintenance of protection.
By a coalition of some of his former par-
tisans with his avowed opponents during the
sarne Session, he was defeated by a majority
of more than seventy on the question of the
Coercion Bill, and went out of office, to be
succeeded by Lord John Russell. The re-
mainder of his career was passed in the cold
shade of Opposition ; and less than four
years afterwards a lamentable accident de-
prived him of life ; and the country had to
bewail the loss of an upright, talented, and
indefatigable public servant.
Summary and Conclusion,
More than a generation has gone by since
the day when the triumph of Free Trade was
assured in England. The time, therefore,
has been amply sufficient to test the merits
of the system ; and the soundness of the
policy on which it is based has stood the
ordeal of experience, and the inexorable trial
of facts and figures.
The majority of those who took a leading
part in the struggle have passed away in
the course of nature ; but some of them yet
remain ; and the foremost of the survivors,
Mr. Bright, has taken the opportunity, on
the occasion of a well-deserved public cele-
bration of the seventieth anniversary of his
birthday, to give a summary of the work of
the great movement with which he was so
brilliantly connected ; and no one surely has
a greater right to speak with authority on
such a subject. A few extracts from his
remarks will elucidate what Free Trade has
done for the country.
Mr. Bright recalled what the League had
done. He said : " Now, forty years ago — I
must look round the room and see how many
men there are who can recollect things forty
years ago — the landed interest, as it was
called, comprising, I suppose, land owners
and tenant farmers, doubted all that we
recommended, feared all that we proposed
to do, and they were distinctly of opinion
that our principles and our plans were
wholly hostile, if not destructive, to their
interests. That was the view when we
began the agitation. But in 1846 the change
was not very considerable, when the agita-
tion came to a close, for at that time no
doubt the bulk of the landed proprietors and
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
of the tenant farmers of England were
opposed to the repeal of the Corn Laws,
which Sir Robert Peel carried ; because out
of the whole of his great majority in the
House of Commons, I think he only took
about eighty votes, which, added to the
votes of the Liberal party, enabled him to
carry that Bill through Parliament. We
had not converted them, therefore, in 1846 ;
we merely vanquished them. We had
created so much opinion among the various
classes of the country that, aided by the
terrible catastrophe of the Irish famine, the
land proprietors and the tenant farmers had
to succumb. The Corn Law was repealed,
and the landed interest was thrown upon its
own resources, and was exposed to the com-
petition which until now it has met, I believe,
without any very great suffering."
With regard to the idea that Protection
could ever again become the policy of the
country, the speaker quoted the words
recently uttered at a meeting of the East
Lothian farmers, by Mr. Harper, the
president on the occasion, who said : " Now,
gentlemen, I may say at once that no relief
can ever be expected from the imposition of
a duty on grain or cattle, or by trying to
raise up by any unnatural process the price
of those articles to the people of this coun-
try. The policy of Free Trade in these
matters is irrevocably settled. The idea of
taxing the whole community for the benefit
of a class would not now be tolerated, and
the Government or Parliament that could
succeed in doing so, must be prepared for
a revolution which would be at once short,
sharp, and decisive."
The enormous increase in the prosperity of
the country is strikingly given in the com-
parison drawn between the England of 1840,
and the country at the present day. The
orator said : " In the year 1840 the country
v\^as suffering a good deal from bad harvests.
The people were suffering because their
bread was twice as dear as it ought to have
been. The farmers did not complain, for
they were selling what they produced at
twice as much as it was really worth. The
exports from this country to foreign countries
at that time of all the produce of Great
Britain and Ireland was ^51,000,000. I
Avon't pretend to explain to you what fifty-
one millions mean, because I don't know
really myself. It is so big a sum that you
can't measure it or imagine it. You can
only talk about it. What are the exports
now? Instead of being fifty-one millons
they amount to close upon, if not quite, two
hundred millions sterling, so that the whole
trade of the country, so far as its foreign
trade goes, has increased fourfold within
that time. And, as a matter of course, the
home trade must have enormously increased
at the same time, because so great an
increase of foreign trade has brought such
great wealth to the country that the home
trade has increased during that time in
quite as great proportion as the foreign trade
has done.
" There is another point, which is one of
extraordinary interest, and it shows, I think,
that no class in this country suffered so
much by the ancient policy of protection as
the working classes, and that no other class
in this country has gained so much as they
have gained during the last forty years by
the adoption of the new policy. Now, I tell
you that in these days it was the commonest
thing in the world for country gentlemen,
members of the House of Peers, and feeble-
minded folk of that day to say that nothing
could be done except by way of emigration.
They did not say that if you brought more
loaves into the country more people could be
fed. That is what we said. They said No ;
the people are too numerous ; there is no
employment for them ; they ought to emi-
grate, and what the Government should da
should be to establish colonies abroad and
take the people abroad.
"Well, a good many people have emi-
grated from that time to this, but what does
the census say of the actual state of the ,
population ? It says that in 1840 the inhabi-
tants of Great Britain were 18,330,000, Just
bear that in mind. In 1879 the population
of Great Britain was estimated at 28,792,000
— that is, that the increase is nearly
10,000,000. The people did not go abroad,
but stayed at home, and the law was altered
so that bread could come here, and a great
many other things could come here, and
trade extended, and the people have added
more than ten millions to the population in
forty years, and there has been a continual
demand for labour ; and I have no doubt
that some of these people who forty years
ago wanted a general system of emigration
have got now some other nostrum or some
other scheme equally absurd and equally im-
possible to apply to your condition."
H.W. D.
16
Trial of the Templars in London.
THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS.
THE STORY OF THE RED CROSS KNIGHTS.
The Crusaders in Sight of Jerusalem — Cruelties Inflicted 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 — Worshipping in the Church of the Sepulchre — The
Latin Kingdom — Origin of the Hospitallers and Templars — The Knighthood of the Temple of Solomon — Institutioro
of the Order of the Knights Templars, and Rules drawn up by Bernard — Visit of the First Grand Master to England
— Rapid Development and Enormous 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 ConducS-
of the Knights — Horrible Accusations — Suppression of the Order and Confiscation of the Possessions.
Jerusalem the Golden.
1 N the glow of a July morning, 1099, the
advanced guard of the first army of
the Crusaders looked upon Jerusalem.
At their feet was the deep, dry ravine, through
which the brook Kedron had ceased to flow,
dried up by the heat of the sun. Before them
were the massive walls and towers of " the
city set upon a hill," and rising above them
the dome of the mosque of Omar, reai-ed by
infidel hands on the site of the magnificent
Temple of Solomon. In that bright light of
dawn, the sun, rising beyond the Mount of
Olives, made the city beautiful. The minarets
of the mosque gleamed in the early sunlight ;
the flat-roofed houses became picturesque
with light and shade ; and the cornfields aKc?'
fig-trees on the slopes beyond the gates^,.
where the Divine One had walked and talked
a thousand years before, wore the beauty of
the older time. It was "Jerusalem the
Golden," Jerusalem the Sacred, of which
dim and uncertain pictures had been pre-
sented by pilgrims who had returned to.
Europe from the far East — which priests and
preachers had tried to see through the haze-
of legend.
Those who had first reached the eminence-
were speedily followed by others. Fatigue
and suffering — and the warriors and pilgrims.
had endured enough of each — were forgotten
now that the goal was reached. Armed
knights, with battered armour, frayed plumes,
17 c
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
and dented shields, urged their weary steeds
to a last effort ; footmen, more lightly armed,
pressed forward eagerly ; and pilgrims, a
motley host, old men, weak women, children
even, toiled up the steep ascent and over
the rocky ground till they reached the ridges
and looked upon the city where David had
reigned, and where the Divine Son of David
•had taught and prayed and died.
Then warriors and pilgrims, noble and
toseborn, — Godfrey of Bouillon, Count Ray-
mond of Thoulouse, Robert of Normandy
i(the Conqueror's eldest son), Robert of
Flanders, Tancred, forty thousand knights
and men-at-arms, — fell upon their knees, and
'''poured out their tears on the consecrated
rsoil." Then rose the chant of the monks and
priests above the subdued sobbings of sup-
|Dressed emotion, and the strain floated on
the air to the towers and mosques where
Saracen sentries watched, and the Moslems
sprayed with their faces turned to Mecca.
Pilgrimages to the Holy Land.
Four years earlier. Western Europe was
■ablaze with anger and enthusiasm ; for
intelligence had arrived that pilgrims to the
shrines so sacred to Christendom had been
-cruelly maltreated. For three centuries,
■although the Mahometan Ahassides and
Fatimites had held the city, they had freely
permitted Christians to visit Jerusalem, and
ihad even with a stately courtesy set apart
aiearly one-fourth of the city, including the
Church of the Resurrection, the Holy
Sepulchre, and the great Latin convent, as a
Christian quarter. There is a record, that
in one year, 1064, seven thousand pilgrims,
■old and young, men and women and chil-
•dren, had visited Jerusalem, to pray at the
■Sepulchre and weep at Calvary. A year later,
dSerce Turcomans, Mahometans in creed, but
'very different from the cultured Arabians they
vdisplaced, had captured the sacred city, and
anassacic I a large number of the inhabitants.
The Chr stians were cruelly oppres-ed ; those
who escaped with life were robbed and
insulted ; their worship was ridiculed and
interrupted, and the priests of the Church
of the Sepulchre dragged by the hair of their
head to dungeons, and there left to die.
Pilgrims as they arrived, all unknowing of
"1 M-hat had happened, were plundered, im-
) prisoned, and ill-treated. Some, indeed, were
sillowed to visit the shrine of the Sepulchre
if they could pay broad pieces of gold for the
•privilci^e ; if they could not, they were driven
irom the city to starve in the wilderness.
A few leached the coast and contrived to
'ireturn to Europe, in some instances many
■years after they had set out on the pilgrimage,
iielped by the charity of ship-masters and
the people of the countries through which
•■they made their way.
18
Peter the Hermit.
Among those who had made the journey
and witnessed the cruelties to which thf
Christians were subjected in Jerusalem, was
one of those remarkable men who have now
and again made their mark on history, and 1
been raised by their marvellous power oi
exciting popular enthusiasm to leadership.
A man of gentle birth, a native of Amiens,
educated in Paris and in Italy, Peter —
known to all time as Peter the Hermit, no
other surname or title is on record— had been
a soldier, but retired from the army, married,
and had children. His wile died ; and
sorrow, it may be, quickening natural inclina-
tion for a Hfe of religious contemplation and
work, he became a monk, and afterwards a
hermit. After a time he quitted his retreat,
and, perhaps alone, living on such alms as
were seldom refused to "holy men," perhaps
in the company of a pilgrim band, to whom
he was the spiritual guide and leader, he
passed through southern Europe, and ci'ossed
the seas of the Levant to Syria ; then, by
the way of many a scene of sacred story, he
reached Jerusalem, only to find how Chris-
tians were maltreated. His soul, once
tranquil and devout, was fired with indigna-
tion and a new-born zeal to avenge the
insult to his Master. Small in body, mean
in aspect, this energetic man, roused to
heioic ardour and almost superhuman
strength, regardless of all dangers and all
sufferings, holding his life as nothing in
comparison with the work he had to do,
returned to the Western world, made his way
to Rome, and there, at the feet of Pope
Urban II., told his terrible story. It was
listened to ; and the Pope authorized him to
appeal to Christendom to form an armed
confederation to rescue Sion from the spoiler,
and the sacred Calvary from the cruel and
insulting infidel. Thus sanctioned, Peter
traversed Italy and crossed the Alps. In
the market-places of towns, by the roadside,
wherever he could collect an audience, the
Hermit — no longer a fitting name, for he was
a powerful leader, not a lonely recluse — told
how Christian men and women, holy priests
and pious pilgrims, were tortured and slain
by the cruel followers of the accursed false
Prophet. No detail, we may be sure, was
spared, no incident of horror toned down.
Tien, with the fervour born of an enthusiasm
which from continuous dwelling on one
subject had become almost frantic in its
excitement, and eloquence, with which he
was so strangely gifted, he called upon all to
aid in the great work. The noble summoned
his retainers, the workman left his anvil and
bench, the burghers of the busy towns took
down their swords from their resting-place
and girded themselves for warfare j women
THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS.
wept hysterically, and beat their breasts
in sympathetic anguish when the powerful
appeal was made. A Frenchman by birth,
an Italian by traiqing, a wanderer in many
countries, Peter spoke to all in their native
language or patois ; and, riding on an ass
and holding aloft a cross, was followed by a
mighty host shouting to be led to Jerusalem.
Where was the holy city they knew not, how j
many leagues of land and water miist be
crossed they knew not, but they knew that
those who worshipped Christ were being
martyred by those who worshipped " Ma-
hound," and they asked to know no more.
Peter's preaching, says Milman, "appealed
to every passion,— to valour and shame, to
indignation and pity, to the pride of the
warrior, to the compassion of the man, the
religion of the Christian, to the love of the
brethren, to the hatred of the unbeliever,
aggravated by his insulting tyranny, to
reverence for the Redeemer and the saints,
to the desire of expiating sin, to the hope of
eternal life."
In France especially was indignation
mingled with enthusiasm. A council of the
Church was held at Clermont, at which
Pope Urban himself was present, and de-
livered a harangue well calculated to fan the
flame. All Western Christendom was aroused,
and an enormous host, scarcely to be called
an army, so rude and undisciplined were the
men, assembled from aU parts of Europe.
Peter himself took the command of one por-
tion ; the other had a far abler leader, in a
mihtary sense, known as Walter the Penniless,
probably one of those daring, experienced
soldiers of fortune who abounded in that age.
Peter, however, was the ruling spirit. He led
the host through Hungary ; and the Hunga-
rians were found to be ready to oppose them.
Probably, in his zeal, the Hermit had over-
looked the necessity of providing food for the
half-savage legions who followed him ; and
they provided it in rough and ready fashion
for themselves. The people of the countries
south of the Danube objected to the invasion
of the pilgrims as they might have objected
to a cloud of locusts, and fighting ensued.
Peter's followers were defeated at Semlin,
but continued their disorderly march, and at
length reached Constantinople, the capital of
, the Eastern Empire. The Emperor Alexis,
! not disposed to " welcome the coming,"
; deemed it expedient to " speed the parting,
J guests." He gave Peter and his host (con-
siderably diminished in number by deser-
tions, death in battle, starvation, and sickness)
supplies to help them on their way. They
crossed the Bosphorus, and near Nice, or
Nicaea (famous as the seat of two great
Councils of the Church), the modern Isnek,
they were encountered fey a Mahometan
army under Sultan Solyman, and terribly
defeated. The remnant wandered on, a
mere rabble of enthusiasts, daily diminishing
in number from disease, starvation, and the
attacks of predatory bands. Peter himself
and a few hundreds only of the many thousands
who followed him in Italy and Germany,
knelt with the army of the Crusaders and
returned thanks for having lived to see
Jerusalem.
The First Crusade.
That army, in the ranks of which might be
found the ablest warriors, the most renowned
nobles of Western Europe, was an outcome
of the same enthusiasm which had so wonder-
fully helped the Hermit ; but it was an enthu-
siasm acting by means of military organization,
and directed by statesmen and experienced
leaders. Six bodies were collected and
equipped, and led by some of the most dis-
tinguished warriors of the time,— Godfrey of
Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine ; Hugh, Count
of Vermandois, brother of King Philip of
France ; Robert, Duke of Normandy, son of
William the Conqueror; Count Robert of
Flanders ; Bohemund, Prince of Tarentum,
son of the more famous Guiscard ; and Count
Raymond of Toulouse. The place of rendez-
vous for the allied armies, the first Crusaders
(so named for wearing a red cross on the
right shoulder), was Constantinople. Cross-
ing into Asia Minor, they captured, on the
24th of June, 1097, Nice, the capital of Sultan
Solyman ; and then marched, experiencing
little opposition, to Antioch, which they be-
sieged and captured after a weary siege of
seven months. The valiant Crusaders had
little more respect for the quality of mercy
than had the grimmest of the Mahometans
they encountered ; and when they entered
the town as conquerors, they celebrated their
victory, and revenged themselves for the toil
of the long siege, by slaughtering the inhabi-
tants without regard to age or sex.
They were scarcely satiated with their horrid
work, the last shrieks of the dying had scarcely
died away into silence, when the Crusaders
found that they were themselves besieged, for
a relieving force of 200,000 Mahometans,
sent by the Sultan of Persia, arrived. Soon
the Crusaders were in desperate straits.
Food was scanty, the most loathsome sub-
stances were consumed, and disease broke out,
arising from the foul state of the city, in
which dead bodies lay in heaps putrefying in
the furnace-like heat of a Syrian summer.
Thousands of the more fainthearted escaped
over the walls in the darkness of night,
eluded the enemy, and months afterwards
appeared in the great cities of Europe in rags
and misery, — how they found their way thither
they could scarcely tell, — and told how sorely
the Cru saders, the flower of European chivalry,
19
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
were beset by the " malignant and turbaned
Turks."
The knights! and men who remained in
Antioch were made of sterner stuff, and more
worthily showed " the mettle of their pasture."
They could but die, and better to fall, if it
must be so, overpowered by numbers in the
open field, than to die like cowards behind
the walls of the beleagured city. They
sallied out; and with longsword, axe, and
mace, they dashed at the Mahometan hosts,
drove them with great slaughter from the
ground, raised their proud war-cry, '■'' Deus
vult" " God wills it," as they trampled on
the dead and dying warriors of the Crescent,
and pursued the flying remnant of the enemy
till the weary and starving steeds could no
longer bear the steel-clad knights.
Advance to Jerusalem.
The way to Jerusalem was now open to the
Christian army. The Crusaders marched for
three hundred miles from Antioch to Jaffa,
keeping near the coast for the convenience of
obtaining supplies from the Italian trading
vessels which touched at the ports. The
strongholds were deserted by the Mahometan
emirs, who fled at the approach of the in-
vaders. From Jaffa they crossed in an
easterly direction to Jerusalem. " With
devout and awful curiosity," we read, "the
rude warriors of Europe now traversed a
region filled with places which hourly recalled
some sacred association, and at length the
Holy City burst upon their enraptured gaze."
So came it that twenty thousand Cru-
saders, with the wretched remnant of the
Hermit's legions, and a camp following of pil-
grims and others, knelt on the ridges near the
Mount of Olives, and prayed and wept on
that July day, in the last year of the eleventh
century.
All the leaders of the six divisions of the
great Crusade army were not there ; Bohemund
of Tarentum had quitted the expedition, but
his most famous follower, the Tancred of the
Itahan poets, remained. The acknowledged
leader was Godfrey of Bouillon. He had
achieved a martial renown which few knights
could rival ; had taken part in the wars
waged by the great Emperor Henry IV., in
Germany and in Italy, and had slain the
usurper, Rudolph of Swabia, with his own
hand, in the decisive fight at Wolksheim.
When the Crusade was proclaimed, Godfrey
was one of the first to answer to the call. To
raise money for the equipment of his contin-
gent to the army, he mortgaged the duchy
of Bouillon to the Bishop of Liege.
No time was lost in beginning the attack
on Jerusalem ; but the Crusaders soon found
that a sudden capture was impossible, so
strong was the position, and so well prepared
and resolute the Moslem garrison. In vain
the knights and their followers endeavoured
to force the gates and climb to the lofty ram-
parts. They were beaten down by showers
of missiles from the walls, on which the Ma-
hometans displayed the cross, the symbol of
the Christian faith, defiled with filth. Mad-
dened by the insult, the Crusaders again
rushed to the assault, only to leave heaps of
dead in the ravine at the foot of the wall.
It was evident to the leaders that proper
appliances for a siege must be constructed ;
but no timber could be obtained near the
spot, and detachments of the force were sent
to the beautiful wooded valley of Shechem^
thirty miles distant, to procure material for
the movable towers and battering rams.
The large trees were dragged by main force
to the camp, and, with the help of a number
of Genoese sailors, collected from the vessels
lying off the coast, the necessary engines were
constructed.
While this work was going on, the sufferings
of the besiegers and followers of the camp
were intense. The scorching sun had dried
up the brooks, and the garrison had filled up
the wells beyond the walls. A maddening
thirst was felt by all. Parties were sent off
to procure water, if possible, from distant
springs ; and when small quantities were
brought to the camp, a draught was purchased
by a piece of gold. The poor wretches who
had nothing to give eagerly licked up the
morning dews, or dug holes in the ground
that they might press their parched lips
against the moist earth. The Genoese
sailors, aided by the labour of the men-
at-arms, worked well, and forty days after
the arrival of the Crusaders, all was ready for
the grand assault.
The Siege and Slaughter.
Day after day they had witnessed on the
wall the defiled sign of salvation ; day after
day they had heard the Moslems' shouts of
defiance and jeers at their faith ; and they
were excited to an inexpressible fury. A huge
tower on wheels, propelled by the force of a
hundred or more strong arms, bore Godfrey,
Robert of Normandy, and their companions-
in-arms to the walls. At another part, the
Count of Thoulouse led the attack. The
garrison hurled heavy missiles, and poured
out Greek fire on the devoted assailants. The
war-shout of the soldiers of the Cross was
answered by the wild cries of the savage
Turcoman believers in the Prophet. Godfrey's
tower almost touched the ramparts, a bridge
was thrown across, and the brave leader and
his band leapt upon the walls', A short, sharp
struggle, and the footing was secure. The
Moslem warriors fell in heaps beneath the
blows of the axe and longsword ; and in a
few moments after Godfrey had rushed across
the frail bridge, his banner, planted by his
20
THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS.
own hands, swayed in the wind on the eastern
rampart of Jerusalem.
On the other side, Count Raymond of
Thoulouse had been equally successful in
his attack. The walls were gained, the gates
forced or thrown open from the inside, and
the Crusaders pressed into the city. Further
resistance was impossible; Jerusalem was
won, and the banner of the Cross was raised,
with a shout of triumph, on the battlements
where for forty days the sacred symbol had
been mocked at by the infidels.
Then began the terrible work of the
avenger. The white banner of the Cross
floated above ; but the soldiers of the Cross
were red-handed and red-hearted, — the blood
that bespattered their armour was not only that
of the Moslem warriors they had slain on the
ramparts, but of the panic-stricken citizens,
the old and young, the mother and child,
they slaughtered in the streets. The Via
Dolorosa, with its sacred memories of agonies,
was again a way of weeping ; and shrieks of
terror, dying groans, and the shouted curses
of the maddened conquerors, mingled in the
narrow streets that led to the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre. There was a wild rush of
fugitives to the Mosque of Omar, on Mount
Moriah, the site of the temple of Solomon,
where they hoped to find safety. But the
assailants followed ; the mounted knights
{for by this time their horses had been
brought in through the gates) dashed among
the affrighted crowd, trampling down and
slaying indiscriminately. Into the broad area
surrounding the mosque, the sacred enclosure,
fled the trembling crowd, pursued by the
horsemen, shouting '■^ Deus vult I '''' and at
every shout a victim fell. One of the chief
actors in this terrible massacre boasted in a
letter to the Pope that they rode up to their
horses' knees in the blood of the infidels, and
that within the precincts of the mosque ten
thousand fugitives were slain. Altogether, if
we may believe the most moderate of the
chroniclers of this terrible day, quite twenty
thousand were massacred — an almost incre-
dible number, considering the limited size of
the city ; but, making allowance for exaggera-
tion, the besetting sin of mediaeval (and, in-
deed, of many other) narrators, it is but too
probable that nearly all the inhabitants were
massacred. In Tasso's "Jerusalem De-
livered " (Fairfax's Translation) we read :—
" The victors' ire destroyed the faithless crew,
From street to street, and chased from gate to gate,
But of the sacked town the image true
Who can describe, or paint the woful state ?
Or with fit words this spectacle express
Who can? or tell the city's great distress?
" Blood, murder, death, each street, house, church,
defiled, —
There heaps of slain appear, there mountains high,
There underneath th' unburied hills up-piled
Of bodies dead, the living buried lie ;
There the sad mother with her tender child
Doth tear her tresses loose, complain, and fly."
That is a picture sketched by a poet who de-
voted his genius to the glorification of Godfrey,
Tancred, and the rest of the Crusaders, and,
in imitationof the older epics, in which super-
natural assistance generally figured, repre-
sented the Archangel Michael as fighting
with them.
As the evening of that memorable day
drew near, the new masters of the sacred
city, satiated with blood, thought that the
time was come for devotion. To quote
an able recent writer, " Duke Godfrey, after
himself staining the example of heroic cou-
rage with merciless slaughter, threw aside his
reeking sword, washed his bloody hands,
exchanged his armour for a white linen tunic,
and, with bare head and bare feet, repaired
in pious humiliation to the Church of the
Sepulchre, and the whole host in turn, dis-
carding their arms and purifying their persons
from the signs of recent slaughter, moved in
procession to the hill of Calvary." Then
they marched out of the city, and prostrated
themselves on the slopes of the Mount of
Olives, while Peter the Hermit uttered a
terrible thanksgiving, and preached about
the triumph of the Cross.
The work was not accomplished. There
were yet some fugitives who had secreted
themselves, some Jews who had sought safety
in the synagogues, and listened, fear-stricken,
behind the barred doors to the shouts and
wails without. On the following morning
the slaughter was renewed. Women with
infants at the breast, and orphaned children,
were dragged from their hiding-places, and
pitilessly butchered, except a few whom the
Count of Thoulouse reserved as slaves. The
synagogues were burned, the Jews within
perishing in the flames, and pillage went hand
in hand with slaughter.
The Latin Kingdom.
Eight days afterwards, Godfrey of Bouillon
was selected bythe leaders King of Jerusalem;
and so was founded that Latin kingdom, which
at first comprising little more than the city
of Jerusalem, was gradually extended by con-
quest until it included nearly the whole of
Palestine. A language resembling Norman-
French was established — there were few left
to speak in the tongue with which the
slaughtered thousands cried for mercy; laws
(known as "the assize of Jerusalem") in ac-
cordance with the feudal spirit of the time
were drawn up, and Jerusalem became a
patriarchate of the Church, and Bethlehem
a bishopric. It is said that Godfirey declined
to use the royal style, although it was gene-
rally accorded by others, but preferred to call
21
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
himself "Defender and Guardian of the Holy
City." He refused to be crowned; for he
would not "wear a crown of gold where the
Saviour had worn a crown of thorns." He
died (it was suspected from the action of
■poison) in July iioo, aged 42, and was
buried on Mount Calvary.
These events have been dwelt on, for they
were the prelude to that remarkable episode
of history, the rise and fall of the Knights
, Templars, whose history is now to be
sketched.
Helping the Pilgrims.
When tardily— for in those days news
I travelled slowly — the princes and people of
Europe were informed of the capture of
I Jerusalem, the desire to make the pilgrim-
age, checked for a time by the report of the
danger to be encountered, revived with in-
creased enthusiasm. Crowds of pilgrims, of
both sexes, including many children, dragged
their weary limbs across Europe, from Eng-
land, France, Germany, and Italy, to the
ports where they could obtain a passage to
the Syrian coast. They hoped to find the
j.road to the holy city open, and knew little
lof the dangers which awaited them. At
Jerusalem, indeed, the Christians were mas-
ters ; but in the highways and byeways of
Palestine lurked Mussulman robbers, in-
flamed by a spirit of revenge, and greedy of
'even such wretched plunder as the poor pil-
'grims could yield. Bedouins, too, those sons
I of the desert, whose hand was and is " against
I every man," attacked the caravans of pilgrims,
1 and left them naked to perish.
The Brotherhood of St. John.
About fifty years before the capture of
'Jerusalem by Godfrey, some Italian merchants
who traded in the East, pitying the condition
' of the poor pilgrims who were permitted by
the Egyptian caliphs to reside in the city,
founded a hospital for their reception and
entertainment, which was placed under the
care of monks of the Order of St. Benedict.
Another hospital was afterwards erected, and
dedicated to St. John the Compassionate, who
had been patriarch of Alexandria ; and the
brethren who ministered there adopted a
peculiar oi'ganization, and wore as a distinc-
tive dress, black mantles with a white cross
on the breast. When the Turcoman tribes
] obtained possession of Jerusalem, the good
J brothers had no home there, and then they
assumed a new character, and joining the
Crusaders, fought bravely in their ranks,
taking part in the capture of the city. It is
probable they partially resumed their occu-
pation as entertainers of the poor pilgrims ;
and their example appears to have stimulated
at a later period, about eighteen years after
the siege, two French Knights, who had also.
shared in the great campaign, to undertake
the duty of protecting pilgrims from the pre-
datory Moslems and Bedouins.
Origin of the Templars.
Hugues de Payens, or Paganes, and Geof-
froi de St. Omer, were the two, and seven
other French Knights united with them in
the duty. It has been stated, but not on
certain authority, that they had all been at
one time members of the fraternity of St.
John. They voluntarily made vows of poverty,
obedience, and chastity, and added an en-
gagement to fight against the infidels. Their
poverty was symbolized by a device repre-
senting two knights riding on one horse;
and a legend has thence arisen that Payens
and St. Omer were really so poor that they
could only own one horse between them. If
that were the case, the animal must have
been a steed of amazing powers, for certainly
one armed knight was ordinarily a sufficient
load. Adopting the name of the Poor Soldiers
of the Holy City, the Knights made a solemn
compact between themselves to aid one
another in clearing the highway of robbers
and in protecting and assisting pilgrims.
For six or seven years these knights un-
aided discharged their appointed task bravely.
Many a Turk and Bedouin bit the dust before
them ; and many pilgrims reached Jerusalem
in safety, blessing the Poor Soldiers. Then
other knights joined them, and they assumed
the importance of a regularly constituted
body, with De Payens as Master. In 1118,
Baldwin, the successor of Godfrey as King of
Jerusalem, granted them a residence within
the sacred enclosure of the Temple, on
Mount Moriah, and in place of their former
designation, they now claimed the name of
the Knighthood of the Temple of Solomon.
Increasing rapidly in number, they added to
their duties the defence of Jerusalem, of the
Eastern Church, and of all the holy places ;
and De Payens, the chief of the religious
and warlike society, was styled Master of
the Temple — z. title which has remained from
that day to this, and is now borne by the
eminent clergyman who resides in the Temple,
Fleet Street, and preaches in the old church.
Rules of the Order.
Baldwin, estimating the value of this new
society, to which many of the most renowned
knights in Jerusalem were attaching them-
selves, desired to obtain ecclesiastical sanc-
tion and control for what might prove a too
powerful organization if quite independent.
The most conspicuous individual figure in
the Western Church at that time was
Bernard of Clairvaux, the saintly ascetic
afterwards canonized ; and to him Baldwin
sent two of the Knights of the Temple,
asking him to intercede with the Pope for
22
THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS.
the purpose of obtaining a confirmation of
the establishment of the new Order, and rules
for its guidance. Bernard appears to have
at once interested himself in the matter, for
shortly afterwards De Payens, St. Omer, and
four others went to Rome, where they were
treated with much honour, and invited by Pope
Honorius to attend the Council at Troyes,
in 1128. The result of the visit was that
Bernard was entrusted by the Pope with the
task of framing rules in accordance with
which the Order was to be regularly con-
stituted.
These rules were lengthy, and included a
large number of details ; but the most im-
portant regulations may be briefly sum-
marized. Self-mortification, fasting, and
prayer, were enjoined on the members of the
Order, as well as regular devotional exer-
cises. They were to attend matins, vespers,
and all the services of the Church, in order
that, "being refreshed and satisfied with
heavenly food, and stablished with heavenly
precepts, after the consummation of the
Divine mysteries, none might be afraid of
the fight, but be prepared for the crown."
Silence was to be observed in the refectory
and domitory, except it should be absolutely
necessary to speak. The professed Knights,
both in winter and summer, were to wear, if
they could be procured, white garments,
" that those who have cast behind them a
dark life may know that they are to com-
mend themselves to the Creator by a pure
and white life." No gold or silver, '' the
mark of private wealth," was to be seen on
bridle, breastplate, or spear, nor should any
brother buy such ornaments. If they were
bestowed on them, the gold or silver was to
be so coloured that " its splendour and
beauty may not impart to the wearer an
appearance of arrogance beyond his fellows."
They were not to communicate with relations
without permission of the Master, not to
listen to idle or licentious talk, not to follow
" the sport of catching one bird with another,
not to shoot with the bow in the woods, nor
halloo nor talk to a dog, nor spur a horse to
catch game." There might be married
brothers, if they and their wives promised
solemnly to bequeath their property to the
Order ; but they must not appear in the white
mantles worn by the other Knights. The
celibate members (that is, nearly all, married
Knights being rare exceptions) must not kiss
" widow nor virgin, nor mother, nor sister,
nor aunt, nor any other woman," and the
wisdom of this rule was thus enforced, — " Let
the Knighthood of Christ shun feminine
kisses, through which men have very often
been drawn into danger, so that each, witli a
pure conscience and secure life, may be able
<-o walk everlastingly in the sight of God."
The social status of the Knights was to be
preserved ; they ought to have lands, andJ
men, and husbandmen, because they were
Knights. But, Knights as they were, . they-
must submit to punishment by the lawful
heads of the Order ; the Master, however^^.
being advised to take heed that, in adminis-
tering punishment, the sinner be not encou-
raged by easy lenity, nor hardened in iniquit>^
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?/?^»
ti7nes the weight of the paying letters, went
free. The letters, therefore, paid not only
for themselves, but for a weight in addition
fifteen times heavier than themselves, and
yet gave the Government ;^i, 500,000 revenue.
The anomalous charges were further proved
in the case of a light mail, which, nearer
London, was charged less per letter, although
it actually cost the department fifty times as
much to deliver as the Edinburgh mails did.
The reformer went on to show how the
high postage rates prevented correspondence,
what advantages were taken to elude the tax,
as already related, the illicit distribution of
THE PENNY POST.
letters carried on openly ; and he then pro-
ceeded to attack the complicated system of
accounts, while the examination of each letter
before a candle to see its contents exposed
the officials to temptation and induced fraud.
The loss of time entailed by compelling the
postmen to collect the money on delivery,
and the extensive system of checking the
accounts could, Mr. Hill showed, be done
away with, and a tremendous saving at once
effected by a simple stamp to be obtained
from the Stamp Office, and stuck upon every
letter, which would be prepaid ; while by the
adoption of slits and boxes in the doors, the
letter-carriers would be enabled to carry out
the various deliveries in a much shorter
time. Thus all the complicated machinery of
Tnoney collection and checks would be done
away with at one stroke. He concluded his
able pamphlet with a strong appeal : " I
earnestly hope that a reform will take place
at once, thorough and complete ; the more
rigidly the subject is investigated, the more
I feel assured will the practicability of the
measures here proposed be made manifest."
The following is the summary of the conclu-
sions arrived at.
Summary of the Proposed Reforms.
(i) That the present cost of primary dis-
tribution is for the most part the result of
complex arrangements at the Post Office.
(2) That these complex arrangements would
be avoided if postage were charged without
regard to distance, at a uniform rate (which
is shown to be the only fair rate with reference
to the expenses incurred), and were collected
in advance.
(3) That the postage might be collected in
advance if reduced to the rate proposed — viz.,
one penny for each packet not exceeding half
an ounce in weight, with an additional penny
for each additional half ounce.
(4) That owing to the great simplicity of
the arrangements which might be adopted
under these conditions, theprtsent establish-
ment of the Post Office, with a slight addition,
would suffice for a four-fold increase of
business.
(5) That the increase of business would
lead to greatly increased facilities of com-
munication, as for example, two departures
and two arrivals of the London mail each day.
(6) That these increased facilities, with
these greatly reduced charges, would have
the effect of increasing the number of charge-
able letters in all probability five and a quarter
fold, which increase, the number of " franks"
and newspapers continuing as at present,
would produce the four-fold increase of
business, for which, as has been shown, the
present establishment of the Post Office, with
a slight addition, would suffice.
(7) That the necessary cost of primary
distribution is not the present actual cost,
viz., -iVuth of a penny, but only ^Vh of a
penny, the difference, viz., f-^ of a penny,
arising from the employment of the Post
Office in levying an excessive tax, and from
the consequent expensiveness of arrangements
and restriction of correspondence.
(8) That in consequence of the great
reduction in the necessary cost of primary
distribution, which would be effected by the
proposed arrangements, the proposed low
rate of postage would yield a profit or tax of
200 percent, on such necessary cost of primary
distribution, which, after paying for the dis-
tribution of franks and newspapers, would
afford a probable net revenue of ;^i, 278,000
per annum.
(9) That the secondary distribution of
letters ought to be untaxed, and the small
unavoidable expense in each instance defrayed
by the inhabitants of the district for whose
benefit it is established ; also that it may be
so managed so as not in any degree to inter-
fere with the simplicity of the arrangement
proposed for effectingthe primary distribution.
Reception of Mr. Hill's Proposal.
A Commission of Inquiry into the working
of the Post Office was actually sitting when
Mr. Hill's pamphlet appeared. This com-
mission was charged with an " Inquiry into
the management of the Post Office Depart-
ment." The three commissioners — Lords
Seymour and Duncannon, with Mr. Labou-
chere — had concluded one portion of their
investigations, and were about to enter upon
the consideration of the London Twopenny
Post, when the reforming suggestions of
Rowland Hill were promulgated, and he was
summoned to appear before the Commis-
sioners, by whom his statements were com-
pared with the officials examined, who were
all unfavourable to the change. Mr. Wallace
proposed a Select Committee upon the
question in May, but was obliged to with-
draw the motion. Many curious reasons
were given before the Select Committee why
the penny postage should not be adopted.
One was because it would entail such an
enormous amount of extra work upon the
department, already at its wit's end to do its
work within a reasonable time. The officers
all declared it impossible that the rate could
be adopted. A critical review of the evidence
led a writer to inquire what the public would
think, if when Messrs. Chaplin, Home, or
Pickford found that the pubhc were anxious
to pay them a reasonable rate, and increase
their business, and consequently their profits,
the carriers were to say, " No thank you, we
do not want any more money, we would
rather-let our business stagnate or diminish"?
What would be thought of a firm who ex-
pressed themselves in such terms .? and yet
249
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
the Post Office officials actually did oppose
all extension of the system on such grounds.
Furthermore, the penny stamp was objected
to because it would encourage " duns "to send
applications for their money at shorter inter-
vals. The tradesmen, it was feared, would
write more importunate letters for a penny
than they would for twopence ; so a great
and needed reform was to be quashed because
a few dishonest or unwilling people ought not
to be reminded of their debts and liabilities.
As a writer remarked, " We suppose the Post
Office has accurately gauged the present
charge as the correct one for dunning cor-
respondence," or words to that effect. It will
scarcely be credited that sensible men — men
who were doing the Government business as
carriers, could be so utterly oblivious of the
very reason for their existence, viz., the de-
velopment of the trade and commerce of the
country vis a vis with the public convenience
and requirements. To this day the spirit of
monopoly and obstruction keeps guard at the
portals of St. Martin's le Grand, as instanced
even now in the matter of the telephone
companies, and it is no exaggeration to say
that if the introduction of the telephone into
London had depended upon the Post Office
authorities, that useful and simple mode of
communication would still be a stranger in
the land.*
Government Parliamentary Opposi-
tion.
Lord Lichfield, speaking in the House of
Lords on the 15th of June, 1837, against the
adoption of Mr. Hill's proposals, said, " It
appeared from the official returns, that under
the system adopted by the Post Office Depart-
ment, the revenue had been considerably
increased. That revenue was now produced
by 170,000,000 of letters, that were annually
circulated in England, and if the reduction
for which some individuals called were
acceded to, it would require the enormous
number of 416,000,000 of letters annually to
produce the same amount of revenue.t With
respect to the plan set forth by Mr. Hill, of
all the wild and visio7iary schemes lie had
ever heard or read of, it teas the most extra-
ordinary f and he concluded by trusting that
the progress of the Government " Bills for
the consolidation of the Post Office would not
be opposed." Lord Ashburton was still of
opinion that the rates of postage ought to be
diminished, and said that the noble Earl,
"like all Postmasters-General, seemed to
look more to the increase of the revenue
than to the general convenience of the public."
* The Times, January, 1882.
t The number now, besides post cards, is about
1,130,000,000, or say, forty-six per head of population,
per annum.
The Duke of Richmond afterwards presented
an important petition from the inhabitants of
Elgin, and favoured the proposal, but the Earl
of Lichfield, while declaring that no man re-
gretted more than he that Mr. Hill's plan
could not be followed without materially
affecting the revenue, promised to have it
examined to see whether any portion could
be recommended, but he still adhered to his
former opinion, and said that " it was all very
well to talk of public accommodation, and
to argue that in consequence of the low rate
of postage an immense number of additional
letters would be written, but it was madness
to suppose that the correspondence of the
country could possibly be increased to such
an amount and extent as he had described."
He did not think a uniform rate could be
effected, because he thought people living
at a short distance would object to pay
the same as people farther off ! The Earl
apparently forgot that travelling was daily
becoming more general, and railways more
universal, so that a Londoner any day might
reap equal benefit with the dwellers in Edin-
burgh, or Glasgow, or Dublin, when called to
those towns by business or pleasure.
Lord Brougham, on the contrary, strongly
supported the new proposals, and declared
" that nothing he had heard had in the least
degree shaken his opinions as to the utility
and feasibility of Mr. Hill's plan."
Mr. Wallace, in the House of Commons,
succeeded in obtaining a Select Committee
to inquire into the present rates and mode of
charging postage, with a view to such reduc-
tion as may be made withozit injury to the
revenue, particularly with reference to the
pamphlet published by Mr. Rowland Hill.
The Committee, nominated by the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, sat for sixty-three days.
The only complaint that the Quarterly Re-
view had to make was that the Committee
was " so very select," it being composed of
Government supporters, with only two excep-
tions. The members of this Committee
examined the secretary and officers of the
Post Office, as well as a number of inde-
pendent witnesses. We read that the autho-
rities, though objecting to the penny rate,
"were very properly invited to send for
examination whatever witnesses they chose
to select, and several were examined who
entertained more or less the same objection
to the plan as their chiefs.*
Those gentlemen who were employed in
the Post Office gave some extraordinary
reasons for the non-adoption of the reforms.
We have already mentioned a few, and need
not repeat them ; it will be seen how greatly
opposed the officials were to all reform of
the Post Office Department.
* Edinburgh Review, vol. Ixx.
250
THE PENNY POST.
Efforts in Favour of Postal Reform.
In the February following the great Mer-
cantile Committee was formed, with Mr.
Bates, of Baring's, at the head, to obtain
evidence to lay before the Parliamentary
Committee. The members of this assem-
blage of merchants included some of the
greatest names, and embraced men of all
shades of political opinion, — " men who had
nothing in common, except that they stood
at the head of their class for wealth, intelli-
gence, and respectability." But the Quarterly
Review, in its continued opposition, fancied
that the evidence collected was not " wholly
unbiassed." " When we are told," says the
reviewer, "that some of the houses who were
most active for this Post Office reform now
pay such to us almost incredible sums as
^6,000,^8,000, ^10,000, or even ^11,000 a
year in postage, we cannot receive their
testimony in favour of a uniform penny rate
as altogether disinterested. In some busi-
nesses the postage is specifically charged
against the correspondent .... but there
is another class, to which we are informed
that the most zealous members of the agi-
tating committee and many of the most de-
cided witnesses belong, namely, those with
whom it is not usual to make direct charges
against their correspondents for postage, and
for whom, of course, the reduction of the
taxation would be nearly, if not altogether,
clear gain .... so that if a firm pays ^ 1 1 ,000
per annum in postage, and repays itself by
its general profits, it is clear that the adoption
of Mr. Hill's plan would put something like
^10,000 per annum clear into their pockets,
and to make up that amount the people
of England must be taxed to exactly the
amount that shall be conveyed by this reform
into the private purses of Messrs. This or
ThatP
This reasoning was fallacious, for the peti-
tions from so many societies and independent
sources, from clergy and dissenters alike, con-
clusively proved that the merchants of London
had not moved for their own advantage. In
the session of 1838, three hundred and twenty
petitions were presented to the House of
Commons in favour of penny postage, and
in 1839, iT^o less than two thousand and seven
were received. The suggestions of some
witnesses are thus ridiculed by the writer in
the Quarterly. He says : —
" One person contemplates the sending of
parcels of patent medicines, another a box
of pills ; one ingenious witness exhibited to
the Committee a parcel of two pills and two
plasters, which under Mr. Hill's plan, may
be transmitted through the Post Office. This
clever person forgot that unless the penny
envelope could be made large enough to
transmit a doctor also, to judge whether the
medicines were proper for the case, it would
be more prudent in the patient to send for
his own country apothecary."
And again —
" Another desires to send samples of agri-
cultural seeds, and, for example, clover, which
would greatly, he says, benefit agriculture ;
but of course, if clover is so indulgently treated,
wheat, beans, and the most valuable of all,
potatoes, could not be rejected."
One witness desired to send grafts of trees,
and another suggested that samples of goods
might be conveyed through the post. The
public were beginning to wake up to the boon
Mr. Hill wished to confer upon them, and
these suggestions the reviewer treats thus : —
"We know not what he may deal in ; we
hope not in iron ware or woollen, for we
presume the Comfnittee has not yet arrived
to such a pitch of Post Office reform as to
contemplate sending samples of nails or
blankets by the post ; and why in strict and
equal justice should the manufacturers of
hardware or broadcloth, why even glass or
china-makers, or the importers of wine or
fruits, or Mr. Warburton himself, the timber-
merchant, be excluded from an advantage —
so great an advantage, we are told — as is to
be given to other traders 1 If the principle
be once admitted, where are we to draw the
line. Weight alone will not do it, for at one
penny per half-ounce the conveyance would
be still so cheap for long distances, that many
bulky articles might be intruded on the Post
Office."_
If this writer lived for a few years after
1840, he must have seen " many" and curious
articles consigned through the post, and have
wondered !
We need not go into greater detail con-
cerning the examination of witnesses on
these points. The great object of the Govern-
ment was to avoid any loss of revenue, and
Mr. Hill strove to show that an increase of
thousands of letters would be immediately
sent through the Post Office — millions had
been habitually smuggled. It was quite
possible to convey with the existing machinery
of stage coaches twenty times the amount of
correspondence. Merchants and manufac-
turers came forward to prove that people had
transmitted an enormous number of letters
illegally. The extent to which letter smug-
gling was carried on was quite out of all
official experience. One person naively con-
fessed that he was not caught till he had sent
twenty thousand circulars, etc., otherwise than
through the post. He constantly sent letters
by carriers, and the existence of a regular
private penny delivery of correspondence was
mentioned in Birmingham and other places.
The most extraordinary devices were habitu-
ally adopted to evade the payment of the
unpopular tax, some of which we have already
251
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
mentioned. A newspaper opined that it was
even fortunate that such practices had ob-
tained, else the trade of the country would
have suffered in consequence of the check
put upon correspondence by the action of
the Post Office.
Even under these encumbrances, and con-
fronted by such independent testimony, the
objectors to the Reform brought forward a
series of arguments. Nothing could stop
smuggling, people would do so whatever the
rate. The poor would never write, they
were not disposed to do so. The revenue
will not recover itself for forty or fifty years.
However desirable the reform was, it was
pronounced perfectly impracticable ; and as
a convincing argument against the scheme,
the authorities declared that the public would
certainly object to pay the postage penny in
advance !
In reply to these arguments, it was shown
to the Committee what thousands, nay mil-
lions, of letters were never written at all
because of the prohibitory rates. The poor
could not afford to set aside such a large
portion — a relatively large portion — of their
weekly wage to send a letter. And yet the
necessity of hearing from relatives and friends
was and is as great amongst the poor as the
rich. Such a necessity cannot be denied, and
yet how many cases of individual hardship
are recorded ! We could give a number of
examples. We will give one or two, to bring
before our readers of the present generation
a view of the hardships endured in these
cases by the poor, — a hardship to which not
even the poorest writer need now be subjected,
and for which — and it is no small blessing —
he is indebted to Rowland Hill and the Penny
Post.
Evidence in Committee.
We learn from the evidence given before
the Committee by Mr. Davidson, how a poor
man was unaware of the death of a relative
for six or eight months after he died, in con-
sequence of neither family being able to
afford postage to inquire or to write par-
ticulars. Another sad case was related by
a deputy-lieutenant for Somersetshire. A
pauper in the district, receiving only half-a-
crown a week, could not take up a letter,
that is, pay the charges due upon it, for want
of means. After a time, a lady hearing of
the circumstances, gave her a shilling to
obtain the letter ; but by that time it had
been returned to London, and she never
could obtain it. Who knows what may have
been in that one letter, perhaps the only one
she had been sent — to tell her news of the
return of a loved relative — son or daughter,
erring and repentant husband mayhap, from
far over the sea. The letter was returned
and destroyed, and the opportunity was lost.
What news might not have been in that
letter !
The postmaster of Banwell testified that
he often had trusted people in consequence
of the inability of their friends to raise a
sufficient sum for the postage. One woman
offered a spoon in pledge until the money
was paid ; the spoon was not taken, but the
woman was trusted, and the letter proved to
be of much importance. Her husband had
been imprisoned for debt ! " She was very
badly off, and had six children." " I am
quite sure," says the witness, "that if the
postage of letters were lowered to a penny,
ten times the number would be written by
all classes of people."
We can get at the daily rate of wages
incidently from this evidence. " Sixpence,"
says Mr. Brewin, "is a third of a poor man's
daily income. If a gentleman, whose fortune
is ;^i,ooo, a year, or three pounds a day, had
to pay one-third of his daily income, that is,
a sovereign for a letter, how often would he
write letters of friendship." "But," says a
critic on the opposite side, " why confine this
philanthropic principle to so slight and rare
an instance in a labourer's life as a letter?"
Why, indeed, but what made the incident
rare ? The action of the Post Office, — the
want of perception to see what Mr. Hill laid
down before it, — that same short-sighted-
ness was the cause. The arguments were
continued, and in the same strain as the
above objection, and by way of supporting his
argument, the writer of the opposing scheme
"brilliantly" goes on to remark that the
man of ^i,ooo a year would grumble equally
if you charged him in proportion for his beer,
his yard of cloth, and his leather, and would
cause the repeal of all taxes if it were to be
equally applied. It ought to have been
apparent to such an opinionated " wiseacre,"
that such taxation would either lead to a
repeal of the high duties, or labourers would
go barefoot and starve, and thus the heavy
rates levied would soon be lowered.
The perusal of the evidence taken before
the Committee is amusing and interesting
even now. The light of experience shows us
the weak places in the arguments of those
who would have had the Government retain
such anomalous taxes, which were keeping
back the national developments of industry
and trade. The experience of history gene-
rally goes to prove that the more communi-
cation and correspondence is encouraged, the
greater is the progress of civilization. Given
a country in which the population is annually
increasing rapidly, the means of correspond-
ence amongst the people must also be
increased it it is to improve. In nations,
just as in the cases of individuals, there is no
"standing still."
252
THE PENNY POST.
Results of the Committee's Inquiry.
The Committee, after long and careful
deliberation, came to the conclusion that
the following principles should be adopted : —
(i) Uniformity of charge and reduction
of the rate.
(2) Prepayment by stamps.
(3) The adoption of a penny rate would,
after a time, involve no loss upon the
revenue.
But they would not take the responsibility
of recommending any plan entailing a loss of
revenue, even if only temporary, and they
accordingly restricted themselves to a two-
penny rate.
In the meantime, the Committee we have
ilready mentioned as sitting upon the ques-
for uniform penny postage was surely per-
meating the minds of all classes of society,
and it only wanted the influence of Parlia-
ment to complete the scheme recommended.
The adoption of stamped covers was advo-
cated by Mr. (afterwards Sir Charles) Pressly,
and a peculiar paper was suggested to pre-
vent forgery. We still have the stamped
envelope, and its use was very general not
many years ago. The covers were like
wrappers, and coloured green and primrose-
yellow for the twopenny and penny rates
respectively.
The New Scheme.
The new scheme was submitted to Parlia-
ment, and in the debates of 1839 will be
found the propositions made by the Chan-
General Post Office — New Buildings.
tion of Post Office management, had termi-
nated their labours and had sent in their
report. They also decided for Mr. Hill's
suggested plan, so far as the postal service
had come under their consideration. Their
decision was as follows : — " We propose that
the distinction as to rates and districts,
which now applies to letters delivered in the
twopenny and threepenny post, shall not in
any way aifect correspondence transmitted
under stamped covers ; and that any letter
not exceeding half an ounce, shall be con-
veyed free within the metropolis, and the
district to which town and country deliveries
extend, if enclosed in an envelope bearing a
penny stamp."
This last sentence is of great significance,
and shows distinctly that Mr. Hill's proposal
cellor of the Exchequer. Referring to the
Committee, which had recommended a two-
penny rate, the Chancellor said : " From
the best consideration I have been able to
give to the subject, comparing one propo-
sition with the other" (/.., the penny with
the twopenny rate), " and, above all, con-
sidering the evidence taken before the Com-
mittee, I find the whole of the evidence, the
whole of the authorities, conclusively bearing
in favour of a penny postage in preference
to a twopenn)' postage. ... I ask the Com-
mittee simply to affirm the adoption of a
uniform penny postage, and the taxation of
that postage by weight." The speaker con-
cluded by moving, " That it is expedient to
reduce the postage on letters to one uniform
rate of a penny postage, according to a
253
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
certain amount of weight to be determined ;
That the Parliamentary privilege of franking
be abolished ; and That official franking be
strictly limited, the House pledging itself to
make good any deficiency that may occur
in the revenue from such reduction of the
postage."
On the 29th of July the Bill was read a
third time, and passed ; and by way of pre-
paring the public for the great benefit for
which they had been agitating in and out of
Parliament for months, — in papers, in poli-
tical " squibs," and by petitions,— the Lords
of the Treasury, on the 12th of November,
issued a Minute, reducing the postage to one
universal fourpenny rate. It need scarcely
be said that such an enactment met little
approval. Asking for bread, the Government
gave the public a stone, which it was inclined
to fling back in the faces of " my Lords." An
explanation was made that such a gentle
letting-down was all for the public's sake,
for fear they should be too ready to write
letters and worry the office, or for some
equally brilliant reason. At last, on the loth
of January, 1840, the great reform was com-
pleted. The following notice was issued : —
" Post Office Regulations,
" yaiiuary yth, 1840.
"On and after the loth JaJiuary, a letter
not exceeding Half an Ounce in Weight
may be sent from any part of the United
.Kingdom to any other part for One Penny,
if paid when posted ; or for Twopence if
paid when delivered."
Then follow certain instructions and rates
with limitations of weight. The Penny Post
wag at length an accomplished fact !
The Result.
Mr. Hill was given an appointment in the
Post Office in order to assist in carrying out the
penny postage scheme ; but when the Tories
came into office ini84i, the reformer was given
the " cold shoulder," and after three years'
service Mr. Hill was politely "retired," as
he could do nothing more for the department
which he had reformed and reconstructed,
and to whom the public will ever be indebted.
But with the public he met with full appre-
ciation. The jealousy of the Post Office
found expression in a pamphlet, that was
supposed to have been written by an official,
and in it the views of the Department, we
may suppose, were embodied. Mr. Hill is
"pooh-poohed," his work decried, and the
" Office" declared to be under no " obligation "
to carry public correspondence, while the
quackery of 'penny postage is declared to have
had its day. Such was the spirit of the
British Post officials in the year of grace 1844
— not forty years ago ; and some say that
"the trail of the serpent is over them all"
to this day !
But in 1846, when a more liberal Govern-
ment came in, the Whigs re-appointed Mr.
Hill; and in i854he was nominated Secretary
to the Post Office. In i860, Mr. Hill was
knighted, and in March 1864, Sir Rowland
Hill retired, and passed, " not into obscurity,
but into deserved repose." He was permitted
to retire on his full salary of £,if)Oo a year,
and subsequently, at the Queen's suggestion,
a grant of ^20,000 was made to him — one
voice, that of a Mr. Williams, being alone
raised against this tardy but well-deserved
tribute to the benefactor of his country. Sir
RowlandHill lived several years happily, and
in 1880, greatly to the grief of all the civilized
world, he died at the age of eighty-five, leaving
behind him a deathless name as a legacy
to posterity.
It w,ould be beyond our province, and cer-
tainly it would extend far beyond our allotted
space, did we endeavour to follow the im-
provements and the benefits that have so
rapidly accrued since the introduction of
the Penny Post. From every direction
came testimony of the happy results of the
system. Letters increased to fabulous
amounts up to hundreds of millions, and
Sir Rowland lived long enough to see the
full measure of his hopes rewarded. The
testimony of all peoples and languages united
in praise of the great Post Office Reform,
carried out in spite of the Post Office. The
utilization ofthe railways for conveyance, and
the gradual disappearance of the coaches, are
matters which concern us not here. Many
reforms were subsequently carried out by
Mr. Hill, and many more advantages have
annually been given to the public by his
successors. The General Post Office now is
a gigantic machine, with an enormous busi-
ness, throwing out its arms in all directions,
doing our postal, and banking, and funding
business, investing our savings, we hope
soon to carry our parcels, and give us cheap
telegrams, sending our flying messages over
the earth, and distributing our many hundred
millions of papers and letters and post cards
with an accuracy and despatch unparalleled.
Post Office Work.
The human machinery for sorting and
stamping at the Post Office is of a very com-
plete description. When one sees thousands
of letters cast upon the floor to be " sorted,"
the task appears to the uniniated as hopeless
as the cleansing of the Augean stable ; but
willing hands quickly pick up and place the
letters upon the sorting and stamping tables,
with the addresses " right side up." Then
the sorters and stampers set to work, and in
a marvellously short space of time thousands
of letters are stamped and sorted. The men
254
THE PENNY POST.
can tell almost by instinct those which are
over the regulation "penny" weight, and
such letters (possibly love-letters) are cast
aside for weighing, the sorter proceeding at
the same time to pick up another billet-doux
with as much nonchalance as if he had never
Tcnown the tender passion, and was not
anxious to meet his affianced when the day's
■duty was done.
Valentine's Day, as well as Easter and
Christmastide, bring a tremendous accession
of force to the Post Office. Last Christmas,
one thousand extra sorters were put on at St.
Martin's-le-Grand; and the excess of corre-
spondence at that office alone amounted to
many millions of letters. The actual number
in excess at Christmas 1880 was nine
millions, and the excess weight of registered
letters three and a half tons ! When these
facts are known, we may excuse occasional
lapses on the part of the Post Office, which,
under Mr. Fawcett, is rapidly developing its
resources.
We are all familiar with the travelling
Post Office. The sorting van of the Royal
Mail, which is a conspicuous carriage in the
night and early morning trains, wliich travel-
lers enter so neat and wakeful, and emerge
from so sleepy-looking and dishevelled. As
the train speeds along, the clerks are busy
distributing the letters with marvellous pre-
cision into their proper pigeon-holes, and the
canvas bags are continually being made up
for delivery as the train rushes by. Other
bags are hanging from a lever near the station ;
a net is extended from the van ; a spring is
touched, the bags from the train are dropped
out, and the bags from the town are dropped
in simultaneously; the net is taken into the
Post Office van, and the passengers are un-
aware that the operation has been performed,
for the speed was scarcely slackened.
The stamp sheet-perforating machine,
originally made by Mr. Archer, did away
with the troublesome old method of cutting
the sheets with a pair of scissors ; and the
later regulation, by which penny stamps
serve for Postal or Inland Revenue purposes,
as a great boon. The latest development of
the Post Office, viz., the institution of the
Parcels Post, is likely to become a most
useful arrangement, as far as the public is
concerned. Whether the existing carriers
will appreciate the action of the Postmaster-
■General is another matter.
Some Curious Facts.
The want of care on the part of the public
in posting letters forms a text for much re-
monstrance every year from the Department.
It is to ordinary minds surprising that
valuables, such as gold watches and many
articles of jewellery, should be found in open
packets in the Post Office, and that annually
thousands of letters containing bank-notes,
coin, cheques, bills, etc., should be posted
without any address. Why frogs, lizards,
and " such small deer," with marline-spikes
and other sharp instruments, are forwarded
through the Post Office is a mystery, but a
fact. Snakes have also been found posted.
Let us quote the Report for 1881 : "Over
5,300,000 letters were dealt with in the
Return Letter Office, 475,000 of which it was
found impossible to deliver or return. One
contained a bank-note for £,100, still un-
claimed, and attached to the seal of another
was a sovereign, which was returned to the
owner, who had forgotten to remove it. In
addition to the letters, about 500,000 post-
cards, 4,000,000 book packets, and 400,000
newspapers found their way to the same
office. More than 27,000 letters (an increase
of 3,000 over last year) were posted without
any address whatever, 5,000 furnished no
clue to the name of the sender, and 1,340
contained articles of value to the amount of
nearly ^5,000. The use of too fragile covers
occasioned the escape of some 30,000 articles,
and no doubt entailed much disappointment.
The habit of transmitting animal and perish-
able matter, such as fish, sausages, birds to
be stuffed, clotted cream, fruit, yeast, salads,
jellies, live kittens, and dead rats still pre-
vails ; and it is necessary to appeal to the
public to discontinue a practice so injurious
to the health of the officers in one branch of
the Department, and to repeat the warning
that such forbidden articles will be stopped.
The number of letters delivered in the United
Kingdom during the twelve months of 1881
was 1,176,423,600, showing an inci'ease of
4'3 per cent. ; the number of post-cards,
122,884,000, an increase of 7*4 per cent. ;
the number of book packets and circulars,
248,881,600, an increase of i6"3 per cent. ;
and the number of newspapers, 133,796,100,
an increase of 2"5 per cent. There is again
a marked increase in registered letters, the
number recorded being 10,034,546, against
8,739,191 of the previous year, or an increase
of I4"8 per cent."
We may have wondered, as we read the
foregoing pages, at the tardy steps by which
the greatly needed reform was arrived at.
We have seen, that at one time it was
deemed impossible to transmit mails from
Bath to London in eighteen hours. What
would our officials of that day have said to
the " Flying Dutchman," the " Wild Irish-
man," and the "Flying Scotchman"!
Twenty years ago the mail was, on one
momentous occasion, sent from Cork to
Euston Sc^uare in thirteen hours, the rate of
speed being 34^ miles per hour all through,
including transfer stoppages and necessary
delays. The speed on the North Western
25s
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
Railway being at the average rate of 52.3
miles per hour !
There are many curious addresses to be
noted as one passes through the Post Office,
or reads the reports. Such an address as
the following must have puzzled the "bUnd"
men, who are supposed to decipher all
mysterious and puzzling and " blind '' (ill-
written) addresses. For instance —
Ash Bedels in Such,
for John Horsell Grinder,
in the County of Lestysheer.
Here is another pleasant address for the
Post Office to decipher —
W. Stratton,
co7ninonly
Ceald Teapot,
Wielin.
Why Mr. Stratton, of Welwyn, was called a
" tea-pot," we can only conjecture ; perhaps
he had prominent features, or was a total
abstainer from more exciting beverages than
tea.
Mr. Dick,
Bishop Cans,
ner the Wises [DEVIZES].
is another instance of curious geographical
complexity. But what can we expect when
Her Most Gracious Majesty is addressed as
— " Miss Oueene Victoria, of England," and
as " Mrs. Prince Albert, Balmory Castle,"
or in more childish form —
Keen Vic Tory at
Winer Castle.
With which unique specimen we conclude
our extracts.
The Parcel Post; Conclusion.
We have not space available to do more
than enumerate the various propositions
lately set forth by the Postmaster-General,
for the carriage of parcels ; but we must
mention this, the latest development of the
Department. The idea was broached forty
years ago by Sir Rowland Hill ; but when the
Lords of the Treasury disowned him, or
"retired" him, as they officially termed it, he
was unable to carry out his idea. His sub-
sequent endeavours were put aside because
his suggestion might interfere with the Rail-
way Companies' business. It is this railway
opposition which, in conjunction with exist-
ing carrying interests, has already proved
detrimental to at least one beneficial
parcel-carrying scheme. Let us hope that
Parliament will pass a measure to prevent
the people being taxed for the benefit of a
minority of their number.
Under the suggested system it will be
possible — we hope it will — "to forward a
packet of from four to six pounds weight
with the same ease and certainty as an
ordinary letter." The reduction upon the
carriage of goods will thus benefit sellers
and buyers alike. The former will be able
to dispense with many carts and horses, the
latter will — it may be expected — reap the
benefit of the cheaper conveyance. Why
the railway " bogy " should alarm the Post
Office, we do not know. There are mail
trains now, why not parcel trains as well —
for a consideration ?
The Post Office is the admiration of many,
but we wonder how far would the commerce
and prosperity of England have developed,
and how far the wondrous interchange of
thought would have progressed during these
later years, if they had depended upon the
initiative of the omniverous department now
in St. Martin's-le-Grand, and not upon the
energy and foresight of Rowland Hill and
his propositions for a uniform PENNY POST,
which we have so briefly endeavoured to lay
before our readers !
H. F.
256
Arrest of Puritans about to leave England.
HAMPDEN ANDSHIPMONEY:
THE STORY OF A STRUGGLE FOR ENGLISH LIBERTY.
" A day, an hour of virtuous liberty
Is worth a whole eternity in bondage." — Addison.
A Momentous Question— English Liberty in the Olden Time— The Parliament and its Power— Henry IV. and Parliamen-
tary Privileges— Tudors and Stuarts : Their Attitude towards the Parliament and People -HenryVI II. and the Contri-
butions—Queen Elizabeth : Her Dependence on the People— James I.— A New State of Things— Charles I. working
out his Father's Theory— John Hampden Member for Wendover— The Despotic Period— An Arbitrary Government—
The "Thorough " and Ship Money— The Trial of the Question— The Collapse of "Thorough "—The Short Parliament
— The Long Parliament — Breaking out of the Civil War — Death of Hampden — Conclusion.
A Momentous Question.
WO centuries and a half ago, in
the year 1636, there was tried
in the Court of Exchequer a most
remarkable and momentous cause,
cause in which the insignificance of
the demand made against the defendant
seemed strangely out of proportion to the
elaborate nature of the proceedings, the
imposing array of judges on the bench, and
protracted arguments carried on through a
series of days. For the sum in dispute was
257
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
no more than twenty shillings, levied as a
tax on part of the estate of a wealthy coun-
try gentleman, to whom, as a mere matter
of money, the petty sum could have been of
no appreciable importance ; but behind the
demand there stood the question of the
liberties of England, and the destiny of the
British people for ages to come : and there-
fore the famous ship-money trial, whose
causes, progress, and consequences we pro-
pose briefly to put before our readers, may
be fitly included among the Epochs of
History. "A httle snow, tumbled about,
anon becomes a mountain," says Pandulph
the legate in Shakespeare's King John;
an action at law brought for the recovery of
twenty shillings may have, and this case
did have, the effect of opening the eyes of a
nation to its position, and to the nature of
the demands made upon it by a government,
to the peril of its freedom and of its very
existence as a monarchy, in which others
besides the King have a voice in the great
questions of the state.
It was emphatically what may be called a
" test " case, on which hung great and vitally
important issues. The precise question, as
stated by Mr. Hallam in his " Constitutional
History," was "whether the king had a right,
on his own allegation of public danger, to
require an inland county to furnish ships,
or a prescribed sum of money by way of
commutation, for the defence of the king-
dom?" — This question involved the greater
and wider one of the extent and nature of
the King's authority generally. If he could
levy ship-money, there was no doubt of his
being an absolute monarch, with supreme
and uncontrolled authority over the posses-
sions of his subjects.
British Liberty in the Days of Old.
When men are bent upon increasing their
own power, and in their endeavours in that
direction seek to encroach upon, or even to
overturn, the rights and privileges of others,
they usually deprecate very loudly and
earnestly anything like interference with or
criticisms of their proceedings. " Meddle
with no state matters," was one of " the
twelve good rules the Royal Martyr drew."
" Leave princes' affaires undescanted on, and
tend to such matters as stand thee upon,"
wrote cunning old Tusser, in his "Points of
Husbandry" — a circumlocutory form of the
good old precept, "Mind your own business."
During a long period of his reign, the senti-
ment of Charles I. and of his leading
advisers towards the people he governed
was similar to that expressed b}' Caius
Marcus in Shakespeare's play : " Hang
'em ! They say ! They'll sit by the fire, and
presume to know what's done in the Capitol
. . . making parties strong, and feebling
such as stand not in their liking, below their
cobbled shoes ! " In the case of Strafford,
the words would even apply, when the
doughty Roman patrician goes on to
declare, that but for the misplaced lenity of
the nobility, he would " make a quarry of
thousands of these quartered slaves ! " and
this disposition was abundantly manifested
in the notable scheme known as the
" Thorough." But happily for themselves
and their descendants, the English people
were not disposed to yield up their liberties,
while they could fight for them. Like the
Swiss, who rose against the tyranny of
Austria at the beginning of the fourteenth
century, their maxim was, " Rather choose
death, than life in slavery ; " and on this
point there was but one feeling north and
south of the Tweed. " Freedom is a nobyl
thing, freedom makes man to have lykyng,"
the old Scottish poet had sung, and the
hearts of his countrymen echoed the senti-
ment.
The idea of freedom was no new thing
with the British nation. It had grown with
the growth of the people, and strengthened
with their strength throughout many cen-
turies. Sir John Fortescue, an English
judge who lived as early as the time of
Henry IV., already wrote learnedly and
eloquently of the English Constitution, and
of the privileges enjoyed by the people in
comparison with continental nations. Old
Froissart, the chronicler, accustomed to con-
tinental ideas of government, gives it as his
opinion that the English are the proudest and
most seli-asserting people he had ever met
with ; and Philip de Comines, the chronicler
of the courts of Charles the Bold of Bur-
gundy and of the astute and unscrupulous
tyrant, Louis XI. of France, frankly expresses
his admiration of the tranquillity and peace
assured to the English by their form of
government; adding an emphatic denunci-
ation of those who ad(vocate war. The
English people had been admitted to a
greater share in their own affairs than their
continental neighbours, simply because the
government needed them more. Feudalism
was introduced much later, as the form of
rule, in England than on the Continent; and
being forced upon an altogether reluctant
people, was altered and modified much
earlier. Henry I., the son of the Conqueror,
anxious to strengthen his usurped power by
a hold upon the Saxon population, gave
charters to various towns ; and the worth-
less John, his great-grandson, was compelled
to sign that Great Charter which secured the
English nation from the excesses of arbitrary
government by solemnly confirming to every
man the right of enjoying his possessions,
by declaring the monarch had no right
arbitrarily to tax his subjects, and by main-
58
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY.
taining the right of every accused person to
a fair trial by a jury of his peers. The
repeated confirmation of this charter during
the reign of the weak son and successor of
John, is a sufficient proof of the value
attached to the Magna Charter by the
English nation ; and the nation was right ;
for within the stipulations of that great "palla-
dium" of English liberty the chief conditions
that constitute a free people are to be found.
The Parliament and its Power.
Already under the son and successor of
the king who had granted the Magna Charta,
the English parliament, with burgesses and
knights of the shire, took the place of the old
council of nobles and prelates. And from
the time of its establishment the power and
importance of parliament began rapidly to
grow. The warlike character of the reigns
of the Edwards made those kings anxious to
obtain supplies of money for the carrying on
of the long contests they waged ; and the par-
liament won the exceedingly valuable right of
voting the supplies, and thus obtained the
control of the national purse. From the
time when that great assembly could regulate
or check the action of the king by granting
or withholding the money, without which
war was impossible, the chief means for
maintaining a popular government had been
ensured. Through the troublous times that
ensued, parliamentary power continued to
maintain itself and to increase. The inse-
cure tenure on which the representatives of
the rival houses held the throne during the
period when " long years of havoc urged their
destined course, and through the kindred
squadrons mowed their way," in the struggle
between York and Lancaster, rendered the
help of the people important to the ruler.
Long before this struggle began, indeed,
Henry IV., the first king of the House of
Lancaster, had considered it necessary to
procure the solemn sanction of parliament
to the transfer of the crown from the unhappy
Richard to himself In his reign also, that
most important measure was passed which
secured the personal safety of the people's
representatives, by pronouncing that no mem-
ber of either House should be put in peril,
prosecuted, or imprisoned for words spoken
within the walls of parliament in his capacity
of legislator. This right of free debar e and
expression of opinion was thoroughly in the
spirit of the English people ; who have always
valued outspoken frankness, even where the
bounds of decoruin were passed, and whose
favourite ballads celebrate the bluntness of
speech of handicraftsmen and churls in their
intercourse with kings. It was the infringe-
ment of this ancient right on the part of
Charles I. that called forth those indignant
cries of " Privilege, privilege ! " amid which
that ill-advised king retired baffled from the
House on that fatal 5th of January, on which
he committed the greatest political blunder
of his reign.
The institution of regular journals of the
House of Commons, in which the proceedings
of the assembly were entered, to form a record
of its work from day to day and froin year to
year, forms another important landmark in
the history of parliament and its progress, by
giving to the proceedings of the assembly all
the weight and importance derived from pre-
cedent.
Under the Tudors, a high-spirited race of
kings, sufficiently inclined to tyrannise over
their subjects, exceedingly tenacious of their
own authority, and jealous of that of the
nobles, the English parliament had some-
times a hard struggle to maintain its position.
Now and then the sovereign's hand of iron
made itself felt, without the velvet glove.
Thus, on one occasion, when rough King
Henry VIII. found the Commons hesitating
to pass a measure on which he had set his
heart, he at once summoned to his presence
the legislator who was said to be foremost in
the opposition. " Ho, man," cried the King,
" they will not pass my bill ? " — and as the
honourable member knelt humbly before
him, he laid his royal hand upon the bowed
head — " See that my bill be passed to-
morrow, or I will have this head of thine ; "
and the measure was carried without loss of
time.
Tudors and Stuarts, with Respect
TO Parliament.
But although the Tudor monarchs seemed
to rule despotically in England, and to
dominate all classes alike by their imperi-
ous will, the reality, here as elsewhere,
differed greatly from the appearance. Every
sign of outward homage and subserviency
was paid to them, and the language of
exaggerated worship was used in addressing
these haughty rulers by " many a baron
bold, and gorgeous dames, and statesmen
old, in bearded majesty," who surrounded
their thrones. It has been observed by
Macaulay, that Louis XIV. would have
blushed to receive from Boileau or Moli^re
such adulation as Elizabeth not only
accepted, but looked for ; and that " a
modern Englishman can hardly understand
how the people can have had any real
security for good government under kings
who levied benevolences, and chid the
House of Commons as they would have
chid a pack of dogs." It does not follow,
however, that because a nation allows its
rulers the forms of despotism, it must needs
surrender its real and essential liberties and
privileges. A man may, in epistolary corre-
spondence, sign himself the " obedient ser-
259
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
vant" of another against whom he is
maintaining an action at law ; and similarly
the English people, while paying every
possible outward homage to their rulers,
insisted on the maintenance of a popular
government.
When Henry VIII. attempted to exact "a
trembling contribution," in the shape of a
forced loan, he at once received an unplea-
sant reminder of the tenure on which the
Kings of England held their authority ; for
there was an insurrection in Suffolk. If the
King could compel his subjects at will to
contribute to his necessities, they declared
there would be an end of English liberty, —
"Then were it worse than the taxes of
France, and England should be bond and
not free." The King, to do him justice,
seems to have appreciated the situation
with the sagacity that formed a prominent
characteristic of the Tudors. He did not
wait until the local insurrection widened into
general rebellion, but made concessions at
once, while there was time to retrace his
steps. On this occasion, as on others, he
acted up to the spirit of the words aptly put
into his mouth in Shakespeare's great
historical play : " We must not wrest our
subjects from the law, and stick them in our
will." The arbitrary power of a monarch
was not, in England, to supersede the
regulations laid down, and solemnly ratified,
during the course of centuries, for the well-
being of the whole nation ; and thus it has
been remarked by the same historian, that
the Tudors, while in many instances they
were tyrants at Whitehall, were obliged to
rule justly, as regarded the country at large.
The nobles, whose order had never recovered
the crushing blows inflicted on it by the
Wars of the Roses, were powerless in the
hands of the King, — who could work his
will on any titled subject sufficiently unfortu-
nate to awaken his jealousy and suspicion, —
but the King, in his turn, having no standing
army with which to enforce his will upon the
people, in case of a general opposition, was
dependent upon the affection and loyalty of
the faithful commons for the maintenance
of his throne and dignity, being entirely
without the means of putting down any
formidable rising, in which popular opinion
sided with the insurgents. " They were
under the same restraints with regard to
their people under which a military despot
is placed with regard to his army. They
would have found it as dangerous to grind
their subjects with cruel taxation, as Nero
would have found it to leave his Praetorians
unpaid. Those who immediately surrounded
the regal person, and engaged in the hazard-
ous game of ambition, were exposed to the
most fearful dangers. Buckingharn, Crom-
well, Surrey, Seymour of Sudely, Somerset,
Northumberland, Suffolk, Norfolk, Essex,
perished on the scaffold ; but in general
the country gentleman hunted, and the
merchant traded in peace. Even Henry, as
cruel as Domitian, but far more politic,
contrived, while reeking with the blood of
the Lamise, to be a favourite with the
cobblers."
This dependence of the sovereigns of Eng-
land upon the good-will of the people was
especially understood by the last and incom-
parably the greatest of the Tudor sovereigns,
the haughty, energetic, great-souled Queen
Elizabeth. When the great peril came that
threatened to deprive her of the crown she
wore so nobly, she rode forth to place herself
at the head of her people and encounter it.
" Let tyrants fear ! " said the undaunted
Queen. And to the army assembled at Til-
bury she went on to declare that though
some who were anxious for her safety had
warned her of the danger of trusting herself
among a great body of men, yet she never
wished to see the day when she should dis-
trust her faithful subjects. Therefore had
she come forth, thinking foul scorn that
Spain, or Parma, or any other prince, should
invade the borders of her realm ; for though
she had the body of a weak woman, she had
the heart of a king — and of a king of England,
too — and, therefore, full of confidence in the
loyalty and affection of her people, she ap-
pealed to them for safety, and had come to
live, and, if need were, to die among them.
This was the way to touch the hearts of a
nation like the English, and the response
was a splendid one. The great towns, with
London at their head, showed themselves
ready to provide more than the proportion
demanded of them for the general defence ;
and the story of the Spanish Armada and its
discomfiture forms one of the grandest pages
in the annals of our history. Again it is told,
that towards the end of Elizabeth's reign,
the increase of monopolies had become a
serious grievance. It formed the subject of
the deliberations of parliament, and at length
a remonstrance was presented to the Queen
on the subject. Elizabeth not only granted
the relief prayed by her faithful Commons,
but granted it with a queenly readiness and
grace that moved them to enthusiastic grati-
tude — thanking them for calling her attention
to the abuse, and thoroughly showing that
she considered her interests as identical with
those of the people she governed.
James I.; A New State of Things.
Very different were the principles and the
practice of the Stuart who succeeded her as
King of England. James I. has been aptly
described as presenting to the world the exact
model of what a king ought not to be.
Obstinate without true resolution, timid and
260
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY.
cowardly without the caution that should
have prevented him from allowing himself to
be over-reached alike by France and Spain,
the pedantic, self-sufficient professor of the
science of kingcraft seemed to toil for many
years to bring himself and the country he
had been called to govern into contempt ;
and certainly gave the nation abundant rea-
son to regret the disappearance of that bright
occidental star, Queen Elizabeth, for whom
the adulation of the courtly translators of the
happy grandson fled from the capital of the
country that would endure him no longer —
seem by their method of proceeding to have
totally misconceived the spirit of the nation
they governed, and the spirit of the times in
which they lived. They perverted the laws
their people held in honour ; they treated dis-
tinguished men with contumely and harsh-
ness. " What man but my father would keep
such a bird in a cage?" was Prince Henry's
indignant comment on James's conduct to-
QuEEN Elizabeth at Tilbury Fort.
Bible represented him as so brilliant and
efficient a substitute. The Tudors, from
the first of them, the cold-hearted, politic
Henry VII., down to the fiery Queen Bess,
had thoroughly understood the temper of the
people they ruled. The Stuarts, on the other
hand — from the day when James VI., on his
progress southward in 1603, astonished and
disgusted the nation by hanging the cut-purse
without trial at Newark, until the miserable
hour, eighty-five years later, when his un-
wards Raleigh. James especially was always
blundering. He lavished caresses, honours,
and rewards upon unworthy favourites ; he put
up for sale the peerages and titles of honour
that had been the reward of distinguished
statesmanship and valour ; and while he
did all this, and much more, to exasperate
the nation, he arrogated to himself an amount
of power the strongest and wisest of his
Tudor predecessors would never have ven-
t'.ired to claim. He bullied his parliaments.
261
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
Thus one of his speeches in particular is
noted as having given especial offence by its
absurdly arrogant tone. "He made another
speech to both the Houses," says a corre-
spondent of Sir Ralph Winwood, "but so
little to their satisfaction that I hear it bred
generally much discomfort to see our mon-
archical power and royal prerogative strained
so high, and made so transcendent every way,
that if the practice should follow the profes-
sions, we are not likely to leave to our suc-
cessors that freedom we received from our
forefathers, nor make account of anything
we have longer than they list who govern."
Again, we find the King concluding a letter
to one of his ministers with the words : " And
so farewell from my wilderness, which I had
rather live in (as God shall judge me), like
a hermit in this forest, than be a king over
such a people as this pack of Puritans are
that overrules the Lower House."
Fortunately, however, the fear indicated
in the letter of Sir Ralph Winwood's corre-
pondent was not realised. The practice did not
follow the professions. James could threaten
and bluster, and declare that the wrath of a
king was as the roaring of a lion ; but he could
not face the opposition excited by his pre-
tensions ; and his practice was invariably
to make concessions after sufficient delay to
deprive them of all grace and dignity, and
to show that they were simply the result of
fear.
On their part, the Commons, at the very
beginning of James's reign, respectfully but
firmly gave the King to understand that the
kingly authority in England was co-existent
with the rights of the nobility and the people,
as represented in the Lords and Commons
Houses of Parliament. The words used by
the Commons admit of no misinterpretation.
"Your Majesty would be misinformed if any
man should deliver that theKings of England
have any absolute power in themselves, either
to alter religion, which God defend should be
in the power of any mortal man whatsoever,
or to make any laws concerning the same,
otherwise than as in temporal causes, by
consent of Parliament. We have, and shall
at all times by our oaths acknowledge, that
Your Majesty is sovereign lord and supreme
governor in both." " Such," says Hallam,
"was the voice of the English Commons in
1604, at the commencement of that great
conflict for their liberties which is measured
by the line of the house of Stuart." In a
word, James declared that he was an absolute
monarch, holding his office by "right divine,"
and answerable to heaven alone for the man-
ner in which he ruled. The popular party,
in and out of parliament, declared that the
King's authority was limited and defined, and
that he was bound to maintain the consti-'
tution of the kingdom he governed, and to
respect the rights and privileges of the people
as by law established.
Charles L as the Worker-out of his
Father's Theory.
Thus the whole system of James was based
on the idea that the people must unhesita-
tingly submit to the ruling power, as repre-
sented in the sole authority of the king. As
a natural consequence, his utmost wrath was
excited by any deviation from the " passive
obedience " and " non-resistance," which he
held to be the only justifiable attitude of
the nation towards the government. The
bishops upheld this view, and preached this
" passive obedience and non-resistance; " and
the King favoured them accordingly, while
he abhorred and detested the Nonconformists,
whose consciences would not allow them to
accept the King any more than the Pope as
the head of the Church. The notorious pro-
fligacy of the court, the bribery and venality,
the drunkenness that extended even to the
ladies, and the despicable personal character
of the King himself, served to render his
pretensions ridiculous as well as odious.
The absurd extent to which these pretensions
were carried is illustrated in a speech made
in the Star Chamber in 16 16, and recorded
in the King's " Works." The impiety of the
assumption is as glaring as its absurdity.
" It is atheism and blasphemy," says the
contemptible pedant, " to dispute what God
can do ; good Christians content themselves
with His will revealed in His word ; so it is
presumption and high contempt in a subject
to dispute what a king can do, or say that a
king cannot do this or that."
With discontent at home, and maladminis-
tration abroad, with utter collapse of the
boasted kingcraft, and woeful sacrifice of
the nation's honour, the reign of James L
ran its ignoble course. In 1625 the King
died ; and from the day when the sceptre
passed from his hand to that of his son
Charles, the long-delayed strife between
royal prerogative and the liberties of Eng-
land may be said to have definitely com-
menced. For now, instead of the ungainly,
slobbering, shuffling creature who had so
long disgraced the royal throne of England,
there sat on that dignified seat one who was
at once a scholar and a gentleman — blame-
less in all the relations of private life, and
excellent in artistic refinement and taste.
And this rendered the position of the country
far more critical with regard to the great
question of its liberties and their preservation.
James I. would never have had the resolution
to push the quarrel against his parliament to
extremity, and against such men as Pym and
Sir John Eliot; James I. would never have had
the persuasive powerto bring over Sir Thomas
Wentworth to his side.
262
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY.
The first period of Charles's reign, from
1625 to 1629, is taken up with his quarrel
with the three parliaments he successively
called, and successively dismissed. Briefly
stated, the cause of quarrel amounted to
this: That the Commons endeavoured to
use their power of granting or withholding
supplies in order to compel the King to
grant redress of abuses, to restrain him
from continuing an unpopular and unpro-
fitable war, and to induce him to dismiss
his worthless favourite, the Duke of Buck-
ingham. To emancipate himself from par-
liamentary interference was the King's great
wish; and he at once entered on a course
of menace and defiance.
The first parliament endeavoured to obtain
a redress of grievances by granting money
very sparingly to the King ; Charles dis-
missed it, and convoked another. The
second parliament was less inclined than
the first to be tractable in the sense desired
by the King. It impeached Buckingham ;
whereupon the King made a threatening
speech, bidding the Commons remember
" that parliaments were altogether in his
power for their calling, sitting, and disso-
lution ; therefore, as he found the fruits of
them good or evil, they were to continue to
be or not to be." This amounted to nothing
less than a threat of entirely abolishing
parliamentary government in England.
In the embarrassment caused by the re-
luctance of the first parliaments to supply
his needs (the two subsidies they had voted
him having amounted to only ^^140,000),
the King had resorted to various ways of
raising money, not warranted by law. He
had sent commissions into the counties to
raise money by means of loans to which
all the proprietors of estates were expected,
according to his means, to contribute, each
being assessed at a certain sum. Many
who refused to subscribe to this forced loan
were committed to prison ; and in the
houses of others, soldiers were billeted to
enforce obedience. The King raised money
by customs duties on goods, known as
tonnage and poundage ; and further coercion
was exercised by the substitution of martial
law, in the trial of various accusations, for
the ordinary courts of England. But all
this did not sufficiently supply the King's
necessities ; for Charles was now engaged
in a war with France. Accordingly, a third
parliament was summoned, which met early
in the year 1628 ; and answered to the
designation of a contemporary writer, who
calls it "a great ruffling parliament," meaning
one likely to oppose, to menace, and to
insult, a bold and inflexible determination,
and not to be hectored into submission.
This third parliament it was, that in 1628,
a year made memorable by its doings,
laid before the King the celebrated " Peti-
tion of Right," in which the illegality of His
Majesty's arbitrary proceedings was set
forth, and the rights and privileges of Eng-
lishmen were declared in no half-hearted
terms. At the same time there was a
disposition to effect a compromise with the
King, who could point to precedents in the
government of former monarchs in support
of some of the proceedings denounced as
illegal ; though on the other side it was
contended that these instances were excep-
tional, and only proved the existence of
tyranny in former times, forming no justi-
fication for its renewal. The King, however
assented to the Petition of Right, and bound
himself to abstain from the raising money
by tonnage and poundage, from allowing
courts martial to supersede the law courts,
from billeting soldiers in private houses, —
and made other concessions, as the price
of which concessions large sums of money
were voted to him. Another cause of strife
between Charles and his subjects was
removed by the death of the arrogant and
worthless Buckingham, who fell, struck by
the knife of the gloomy fanatic Felton,
while preparing, at Portsmouth, to lead a
second army, as he had led a first, probably
to dire and ignominious discomfiture.
Scarcely had the Parliament been pro-
rogued, in the summer of 1628, before the
illegal practices denounced in the Petition
of Right were resumed, — the billeting of
soldiers on the nation, the exaction of
tonnage and poundage, etc. When the
Parliament met, in 1629, after the proro-
gation, the Commons proceeded to adju-
dicate on the question of tonnage and
poundage, denouncing the illegality of that
impost in the strongest terms. A resolution
was proposed to the effect that those who
paid that iniquitous tax were traitors to their
country ; and when the Speaker, dismayed
at the audacity of the Commons, declared
that he had received His Majesty's orders
to put no such resolution to the vote, a
scene of violent indignation and uproar
ensued. The Speaker, attempting to put
an end to the sitting by leaving the chair,
was forcibly held down in his place while
the resolution was put, and triumphantly
carried. The next day Charles angrily
dissolved this, his third parliament, and,
as on former occasions, marked his sense
of its proceedings by committing the most
prominent members to prison. The chief
of them. Sir John Eliot, after various un-
successful applications to the throne for
release, or, at least, for a mitigation of the
rigours of his captivity, died a prisoner in
the Tower of London ; and a petition by
his sons for the body of their father, that it
might be buried on his own estate, was
63
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
refused by Charles; who, carrying his enmity
beyond the Hfe of his victim, ordered that
the remains of Sir John EHot should be
interred in the place where he had died.
John Hampden, Esquire, of Hampden,
IN Buckinghamshire.
In each of the three parliaments that had
been summoned and dissolved within the
space of four years, there had sat as member
for the borough of Wendover, a Buckingham-
shire esquire, then little known, but destined
to leave one of the most illustrious names in
the annals of English history. From Lord
Nugent's valuable " Memorials of Hampden,"
we learn some particulars of the family.
The Hampdens
had been settled,
from before the
Norman conquest,
on an estate of the
same name, be-
stowed by Edward
the Confessor on
Baldwin de
Hampden, whom
Lord Macaulay
conjectures to
have been one of
the Norman
favourites brought
to England by the
last of our Saxon
kings. The family
had maintained it-
self in opulence
and honour ; and
one of its repre-
sentatives, Griffith
Hampden, high
sheriff of Bucking-
hamshire, had
royallyentertained
Queen Elizabeth
in his ancestral
home.
The John Hampden of Charles's time was
the grandson of Griffith. He enjoyed a good
education, first at Thame Grammar School,
afterwards at Magdalen College, Oxford,
and, finally, at the Temple in London, where
he studied law. He was born in 1594 ; and
already, in 1619, in James's time, we find him
sitting in the House of Commons as represen-
tative of the Cornish borough of Grampound.
It is recorded that the mother of Hamp-
den (his father had died in 1597) was
desirous that her son, as the head of so old
and distinguished a family, should have a
higher rank than that of a country esquire.
But in James the First's reign, peerages and
baronetcies were shamelessly bought and
sold. " It was only to ask, to pay, and
to have ; '' and Hampden best consulted
Charles I.
his own dignity and self-respect by remain-
ing as he was.
He had won the distinction of attracting
the notice and enmity of Charles I. When
required to pay his share towards a forced
loan to the King he refused ; declaring that
he would be as willing to contribute as
another man, but that he feared to infringe
Magna Charta, which document, he declared,
ought to be read twice a year in every market
town in England, that Englishmen might
be reminded of the rights and privileges it
behoved them to guard. The exact words
recorded are, '' He feared to draw upon him-
self that curse in Magna Charta, which he
wished were read twice a year against those
who infringe it."
This procured
him the distinction
of being singled
out as a warning
example of the
King's displea-
sure. He was
committed to pri-
son on the disso-
lution of the second
parliament o f
Charles I. to the
Gateh ou seat
Westminster, and
afterwards to a
Hampshire gaol,
but was released,
and again chosen
for Wendover,
when the King's
necessities made
him call his third
parliament.
Sir John Eliot,
who was sent by
the King to die
in the Tower,
was a valu ed
friend of Hamp-
den, the modesty of whose character ap-
pears in a very pleasing light, in the corre-
spondence he kept up with the illustrious
prisoner, who consulted him on a treatise on
government he was writing to beguile his
imprisonment. Hampden was a Puritan in
belief and in morals ; but there was about
him nothing of that "sourness" and self-asser-
tion generally attributed to those of his creed
by their opponents, and which furnished such
copious matter to the satirical pens, of which
the sharpest was wielded by Samuel Butler.
Clarendon has borne emphatic testimony to
his refinement and grace of manner. "He was
of that rare affability and temper in debate,"
says the author of the " History of the Great
Rebellion," and of that seeming humility and
submission of judgment, as if he brought no
264
HAMPDEN AND SHIP MONEY.
opinion of his own with him, but a desire of
information and instruction. Yet he had so
subtle a way of interrogating, and, under
cover of doubts, insinuating his objections,
that he infused his own opinions into those
from whom he pretended to learn and receive
them." The letter in which he imparts to his
imprisoned friend the criticism on the manu-
script Sir John had submitted to his revision,
is full of this graceful modesty.
Despotic Period ; An Arbitrary Go-
vernment.
Hampden was not one of the men singled
out for punishment on the abrupt dissolution
of King Charles's
third parliament.
He retired to his
paternal estate in
B uckingham-
shire, and for
some years occu-
pied himself with
the duties that
devolved on him
as a landed pro-
prietor. Of pub-
lic duties there
were none left for
him to fulfil. Par-
liamentary go-
vernment was at
an end for the
time in England;
and had been suc-
ceeded by the
unhappy and
shameful period
of despotic and
irresponsible rule.
The jurisdiction
of the ordinary
tribunals was su-
perseded, and
their judgments
overridden by the
Star Chamber,
the Courtof High Commission, and the North-
ern Council. The bigoted and narrow-minded
Archbishop Laud, whom Lord Macaulay
designates as a lower kind of St. Dominic or
Torquemada, raged against the Puritans, on
whom were plentifully inflicted those pillory-
ings, ear croppings, scourgings, long imprison-
ments, numerous fines, and the host of
iniquities which, under the name of " cruel
and unusual punishments," were emphatically
condemned by a later generation in the Bill
of Rights. The tuning of the pulpits, as
Laud called the issuing of injunctions to the
clergy to preach passive obedience and non-
resistance to their flocks, proceeded most
energetically ; and a man of consummate
ability and equal unscrupulousness was found
John Hampden.
265
to initiate a system by which the voice of the
English people should be silenced, and the
liberties of the nation definitely and irretrieva-
bly ruined.
This man was Sir Thomas Wentworth,
formerly a prominent member of the parlia-
mentary opposition, and the trusted friend of
Pym, HoUis, Hampden, and the rest of the
patriotic leaders. But he had been detached
from his party, and won over by the blandish-
ments and persuasions of the King during the
interval of the prorogation, and hated his
former associates with all the rancour of a
renegade. No two men could have been
more unlike than Wentworth, who was
created Earl ot
S traff ord and
afterwards Vice-
roy of Ireland for
his partisanship
of the King, and
Laud, who was
made Archbishop
of Canterbury for
a similar reason.
Strafford was a
manof command-
ing intellect, of
inflexible resolu-
tion, and ever-
ready resource,
" with Atlantean
shoulders, fit to
bear the weight of
empires " ; and
of him it might
further be said,
as of the great
fallen angel, " On
his brow delibe-
ration sat, and
princely care, —
majestic though
in ruin." Laud,
zealous and busy,
fussily anxious
for power and
supremacy, had the puniest of intellects,
and was saturated with a drivelling super-
stition. But the two men understood each
other completely.
The "Thorough," and Ship-Money.
The scheme by which the two chief ad-
visers of the King proposed governing Eng-
land has become extensively known under
the name of " Thorough " ; a name taken
from an expression frequently used in their
correspondence. It well expresses the
length to which Laud and Strafford were
prepared to go, and the complete change
they proposed to introduce into the system
of government in England. "For the State,"
the Archbishop writes to his colleague, " in-
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
deed, my Lord, I am for Thorough ; but I
see that both thick and thin stays somebody
where I conceive it should not ; and it is
impossible to go Thorough alone." And in
another letter he says, "As for my marginal
note, I see you deciphered it well ; and I see
you make use of it, too ; do so still, thorough
and thorough. Oh that I were where I might
go so to ! But I am shackled between delays
and uncertainties."
The notable scheme of the two conspirators
against their country's liberties was indeed
most thoroughly subversive of the rights of
the English people. It may be briefly sum-
med up as follows : Perfect and uncontrolled
authority for the ruler in all matters pertaining
to Church and to State, with compulsory uni-
formity of worship for all the King's subjects ;
taxation at the King's sole will and pleasure
for the maintenance of despotic rule ; and a
standing army wherewith to enforce obedience
and to quell any sign of ill-humour or tendency
to resistance on the part of the governed.
Money was indeed necessary, nay, indis-
pensable, for carrying out such a scheme.
The former devices, tonnage and poundage,
etc., were put into requisition ; and at length
a new source of supply was suggested by the
ingenuity of Noy, Charles's Attorney-General,
and Finch, the Lord Chief Justice. Writs were
issued in the King's name for levying a tax
for equipping ships for the King's service ;
and these writs were addressed not, as in
former days, to the maritime towns in time
of war, but scattered through the length and
breadth of the land in time of peace, — a start-
ling innovation.
Whitelock, in his " Memorials," thus de-
scribes this transaction, in his record for the
year 1635 : "The Privy Council wrote letters
to every high sheriff of England, directing
them for the taxing and levying of the ship
money ; and yet, with great care and equality,
much beyond what was observed in following
taxes. But the^ guilding {sic) of this illegal
pill would not cause it to be swallowed down;
but many people, especially the knowing
gentry, expressed great discontent at this
new assessment and burthen as an imposition
against law and the rights of the subject."
Then it was that Hampden came forth
from his retirement, and stood up as the
champion of his country's rights against
venal judges, unscrupulous ministers, and
a tyrant king.
The account of the famous ship-money
controversy, as given byWhitelock, sufficiently
shows the pressure put upon the judges, and
the means by which the court could, in cases
of importance, procure a judgment in accord-
ance with its wishes, however contrary to
the dictates of liberty and justice. The
events are thus briefly chronicled in the
" Memorials."
Mr. John Hampden, a gentleman of an
ancient family in Buckinghamshire, and of
a great estate and parts, denied the payment
of ship-money as an illegal tax. He often
advised in this great business with Holborn,
Saint John, Whitelock, and others of his
friends and counsel. Several other gentle-
men refused the payment of this tax of ship-
money; whereupon the King was advised
by the Lord Chief Justice Finch and others
to require the opinion of his judges, which
he did, stating the case in a letter to them.
After much solicitation by the Chief Justice
Finch, promising preferment to some, and
highly threatening others whom he found
doubting, he got from them, in answer to
the King's letter and case, their opinions
in these words : —
"We are of opinion that when the good
and safety of the kingdom in general is con-
cerned, and the whole kingdom in danger,
Your Majesty may, by writ under the great
seal of England, command all your subjects
of this your kingdom, at their charges, to
provide and furnish such number of ships,
with men, victual, and ammunition, and for
such time as Your Majesty shall think fit, for
the defence and safeguard of the kingdom,
from such peril and danger. And that by
law Your Majesty may compel the doing
thereof in case of refusal or refractoriness.
And we are also of opinion that in such case
Your Majesty is the sole judge, both of the
dangers and when and how the same is to
be prevented and avoided."
This opinion, signed by Davenport, Den-
ham, Hutton, Jones, Croke, Trever, Bram-
ston, Finch, Vernon, Berkley, Crawley, and
Weston, was, we are told, "enrolled in all
the Courts of Westminster, and much
distasted many gentlemen of the country,
and of their own profession, as a thing
extra-judicial, ufmsual, and of very ill con-
sequence in this great business, or in any
other."
How THE Great Ship-money Trial
WAS CONDUCTED.
The trial in which Hampden stood up as
the champion of the rights of Englishmen
against the encroachments of the king,
shows abundant proofs, among other points,
of the servility of the judges in those days,
and of their subservience to the King.
It is difficult, at the present day, to conceive
the amount of cringing meanness displayed
by several of the men whose high office it
was to expound the law of England, and who
should be ready, as described in Dryden's
magnificent sketch of Shaftesbury, to show
themselves prompt on every occasion,
" Unbribed, unbought, the wretched to redress,
Swift of despatch, and easy of access."
266
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY.
In this case, as Hallam pertinently
observes, the Ministers had been anxious
to gain over to their side the interpreters of
the law, and had insisted that the judges
should, during their circuits, declare it to be
the duty of every loyal subject to show his
zeal for his King's service by immediate
compliance with the ship-money writs. An
" opinion " of the judges, given by royal
command, and unanimously subscribed to
by all the twelve, declared that, " when the
good and safety of the kingdom in general is
concerned, and the whole kingdom in dan-
ger, His Majesty might, by writ under the
great seal, command all his subjects, at their
charge, to provide and furnish such number
of ships, with men, munition, and victuals,
and for such time as he should think fit, for
the defence and safeguard of the kingdom ;
and thiit by law he might compel the doing
thereof, in case of refusal or refractoriness ;
and that he was the sole judge, both of the
danger, and when and how the same was to
be prevented and avoided." An opinion of
this kind, given by the judges of the land,
and publicly made known to the nation,
might have been supposed a sufficient
deterrent to any man from raising the
question before a tribunal whose views had
been thus unequivocally expressed ; and
thus we are the more inclined to admire the
resolution of the man who, under such cir-
cumstances, was content to incur expense,
anxiety, and personal peril, by solemnly
bringing up the great national question for
adjudication.
The law was with overwhelming force on
the side of Hampden. The whole spirit and
practice of English legislation for centuries
had been in the direction of confirming the
power of Parliament to control the taxation
of the kingdom ; and no one could fail to see
that, by extending the writs for ship-money
to the inland counties, the King was over-
stepping all the bounds observed even by the
most imperious of his ancestors, and was
turning what his own party acknowledged
to have been only an exceptional and urgent
expedient into a regular source of supply.
In the grave, saturnine Oliver St. John, who
conducted his case, Hampden had a man
of undoubted talent, whose heart was
thoroughly in the cause, and who, therefore,
did not fail to give full force to every point
in favour of his client's cause, and that of
English liberty.
The arguments for and against the levy-
ing of ship-money, are briefly and clearly
summed up in Dr. Lingard's History.
The Attorney- General and Solicitor-General
alleged in behalf of the Crown, that already
under the Anglo-Saxon Kings, the tax called
" Danegelt " had been annually levied, for
the maintenance of a naval force ; that
requisitions had been issued over and over
again by various English kings, pressing
ships into the service, and calling upon the
maritime counties to furnish and equip them ;
that the claim was reasonable, and in fur-
therance of the public service ; and that
occasions would arise when prompt action
was necessary ; and that if the King could
not, on such occasions, call upon his subjects
for immediate aid, the country, while waiting
for the assembling of a Parliament, would
suffer incalculable injury from delay. Thus
the general good and the public service were
ingeniously placed by Mr. Attorney and Mr.
Solicitor in the forefront of the battle ; and
these, it was declared, would be promoted
by acknowledging the royal prerogative in
its utmost extent.
In opposition to these arguments it was
contended by Hampden's counsel, " That no
argument could be founded on the imperfect
hints in our ancient writers respecting the
Danegelt, or the naval armament of the
Anglo-Saxon Kings ; that out of the multi-
tude of precedents adduced, not one bore
any resemblance to the present writs, which
first ordered the inhabitants of the inland
counties to fit out ships, and then to pay
money in lieu of those ships ; that no urgent
necessity could be pleaded, for the writs had
been issued six months before the ships were
wanted, and consequently there was suffi-
cient time to assemble and consult the
Parliament ; that these writs (and this, the
concluding argument, was the strongest)
were in opposition to the Statutes and
Petition of Right, which provided that no
tax should be levied on the subject without
the consent of Parliament ; nor was it a
valid objection that the King could still
levy an aid on the knighthood of his son,
and the marriage of his eldest daughter, for
these cases were expressly excepted in
Magna Charta, and virtually in the preced-
ing statutes." The illegality of unparlia-
mentary taxation was indeed so notorious
that no forensic eloquence could suffice
to make even an apparently good case for
it.
Divine Right and Royal Prerogative.
Accordingly, Banks, the Attorney- General,
thought it advisable to rest his case on a
basis of " divine right of kings," and " royal
prerogative.'' He laid down an astonishing
proposition, which, if conceded, would simply
place the property of every Englishman at
the uncontrolled disposal of the king. He
boldly contended that royal authority was
unlimited, except by the will of the monarch
himself Kingly authority with him meant
absolute authority. " This power is innate in
the person of an absolute king, and in the
267
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
person of the kings of England. All magis-
tracy, it is of nature ; and obedience and
subjection, it is of nature. This power is not
any ways derived from the people, but
reserved unto the king when positive laws
first began. For the King of England, he is
an absolute monarch ; nothing can be given
to an absolute prince but what is inherent
in his person. He can do no wrong. He is
the sole judge, and we ought not to question
him. Where the law trusts, we ought not to
distrust. The Acts of Parliament contain no
express words to take away so high a prero-
gative, and the king's prerogative, even in
lesser matters, is always saved wherever
express words do not restrain it."
This argument at least acknowledged
some kind of power in parliament "by
express words " to interfere with the king's
will ; but some of the judges even went
further, and considered that the king was not
bound by any law. Berkley, one of them,
declared that the law was an old and trusty
servant of the king's, and that he had never
heard that lex was rex, " but it is most
common and most true that 7'ex is /ex."
Vernon, another judge, unhesitatingly gave
his opinion that the king might dispense
with any law in cases of necessity ; and
Finch, with whom much of the responsibility
of the ship-money measures rested, declared,
" They are void Acts of Parliament to bind
the king not to command the subjects, their
person, and goods, and I say their money,
too ; for no Acts of Parliament make any diffe-
rence." Absolute government could go no
farther than this.
In spite of all the pressure that could be
brought to bear on behalf of the Government, —
and it was very considerable, for at that time
the judges held their appointments not for
life or " during good behaviour," but at the
pleasure of the king, who could at once
remove from their offices those who offended
him, — the Court gained only the smallest
possible majority, seven of the judges giving
their opinions in favour of the King, and five
for Hampden. One of the latter, Croke, is
said to have wavered, and to have been
admonished of his duty by his wife, who
exhorted him not to let personal considera-
tions for her welfare or that of his children
stand in the way of his honest and impartial
judgment in this great matter.
The cause was no less than six months
before the court ; and this, as has been
remarked by various writers, was doubtless of
great service to Hampden, and proportionately
injurious to his opponents ; for it gave every
man full time to make himself acquainted
with the merits and the paramount importance
of the case. It was well understood that this
was no temporary impost, intended to meet
a necessity of the moment, but, as Clarendon
himself, writing on the King's side, declares,
" for a spring and magazine that should have
no bottom, and for an everlasting supply of
all occasions."
That Hampden would be beaten was,
considering the nature of the tribunal before
which his action was tried, a foregone
conclusion. That his opponents should have
only the narrowest possible majority could not
be reckoned otherwise than as a triumph of
the popular cause. The irritation occasioned
in the mind of the nation by these proceedings
did not pass away ; and among the party of
whom Hampden was now looked upon as
the acknowledged chief, the trial with its issue
was kept, as Whitelock expresses it, " a/ia
inente repostum" even as the well-remember-
ing Juno kept in her heart that " Jtidicium
Paridis,'^ for which she was determined to
exact so heavy an expiation.
Hampden's Popularity; A Scheme of
Emigration ; Its Defeat.
Concerning the popularity gained by the
great Buckinghamshire esquire by the ship-
money trial, we have the emphatic testimony
of Clarendon, whom Lord Macaulay quotes in
his Essay on Lord Nugent's " Memorials."
The eloquent historian of the civil war, in
general no favourable witness for the opposi-
tion leaders, says : " Till this time he was
rather of reputation in his own county than
of public discourse or fame in the kingdom ;
but then he grew the argument of all tongues,
every man inquiring who and what he was
that durst, at his own charge, support the
liberty and prosperity of the kingdom." Nor
can Clarendon withhold a word of praise for
the admirable temper and moderation dis-
played by Hampden throughout this trying
time. He seems, indeed, to have been
singularly happy in freedom from the angry
passions that defaced the character even of
good and earnest men, in those times of
iniquity and wrong. Clarendon tells us " his
carriage throughout that agitation was with
that rare temper and modesty, that they who
watched him narrowly, to find some advantage
against his person, to make him less resolute
in his cause, were compelled to give him a
just testimony."
Laud and Strafford were exceedingly
angry at the popularity of Hampden, and
the open way in which the people's appre-
ciation of him was exhibited. Laud's narrow
mind revolted against the free expression
of opinion, in speech or in writing. Hence
his acrimony against those whpm he
called libellers, and his cruel rancour against
Prynne, Bastwick, Barton, and others, who
at this time were suffering mutilation and
imprisonment. He considers that the men
whose ears have been cut off by the hang-
man, and who have been sent to languish in
268
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY.
distant dungeons, have been too leniently
treated ; that the Government has not been
nearly sharp and determined enough.
Writing to Strafford, he says : " A little
more quickness in the Government would
cure this itch of libelling. But what can
you think of Thorough, when there shall
be such slips in business of consequence?
What say you to it, that Prynne and his
fellows should be suffered to talk what
they pleased while they stood in the pillor}'-,
and win acclamations from the people?"
What can we think of Thorough, indeed ? —
simply, that Thorough was in a bad way,
when the spirit of the nation began to be
alive to its nature and its probable con-
sequences.
Strafford was equally indignant and
alarmed ; and in his correspondence with
Laud on the occasion, his malignant
hatred against the Puritans breaks forth :
" Mr. Hampden is a great brother," he
writes (the name brother was generally
given to the Puritans), " and the very genius
of that people leads them always to oppose,
as well civilly as ecclesiastically, all that
ever authority ordained for them ; but in
good faith, were they right served, they
should be whipt home into their right wits ;
and much beholden should they be to any
one that would thoroughly take pains with
them in that kind." Again he wishes
that " Mr. H., and others to his likeness,
were well whipt into their right senses ; and,''
he adds, " if the rod be so used that it smart
not, I am the more sorry."
The legal triumph of the Court party, such
as it was, inflamed the Government of
Charles to greater acts of tyranny. "Those
whom the gods wish to ruin they first
deprive of reason," said the philosopher
of old ; and certainly the recklessness of
misrule in 1637 seems compatible only
with moral insanity on the part of those
who governed the country. The Star
Chamber was more arbitrary than ever,
ably seconded by that of High Commission
and the Northern Court ; and the persecu-
tion against the Puritans was more and
more unrelenting. Under these circum-
stances Hampden, whose liberty was no
longer safe in England, resolved to emigrate
to America, where many of the brethren had
found a freedom denied them in their own
land ; and he was to be accompanied by his
kinsman Oliver Cromwell. But the ships
which were to convey the cousins, with a
number of other Puritans, to America, were
prevented from sailing ; and Hampden was
compelled to remain in England. He re-
mained, to do greater service to his country
than even in the matter of the ship-money.
The order that stopped the departure of
Hampden was procured by Laud, who com-
plained of men " running to New England.''
He little knew what he was preparing for
himself by keeping in Old England such men
as Hampden and Cromwell.
How " Thorough " came to an End
IN England.
After the enforced abandonment of his
emigration scheme, Hampden withdrew
again, for a time, into the background ;
for never was there a man less likely to
put himself forward, except where duty
demanded it. But the years 1638 and 1639
were full of events fraught with tremendous
consequences to the Government of Charles
and his Ministers, and to the future destiny
of England. The disaffection of the Puritans
in England was increased by the publi-
cation of the " Book of Sports ; " which,
by officially permitting, or rather enjoining,
amusements on Sundays, deeply offended
the feelings and opinions of that influential
sect. Then came the ill-advised attempt
to enforce the use of the Liturgy in Scotland ;
and Clarendon tells how, " on the Sunday
morning appointed for the work," when the
Dean began to read the service in the
church of St. Giles, Edinburgh, "a shower
of stones and sticks and cudgels" came
flying at that functionary's head ; and how
the rioters, on being turned out of the
church, the doors of which were shut,
"continued their barbarous noise" in the
churchyard, breaking the windows, and
endeavouring to force the doors, " so that
it was not possible for any to follow their
devotions." The signing of the Covenant,
the rebellion in Scotland, and the esta-
blishment there of a Provisional Govern-
ment, were the next steps ; and the army
of Charles proved utterly unable to quell the
formidable rising.
A hasty and ill-arranged pacification, as
ill kept as it had been ill made, was followed
by a second campaign, in which the failure
of the royal troops was most ignominious ;
and Laud, and even the resolute Strafford,
stood aghast at the ruin that threatened
their master. The financial condition of
the Government, too, was deplorable. The
revenues of the year had been anticipated,
and spent, and there was no method
available for rising a new and a prompt
supply. It was impossible to carry out
" Thorough" to its logical conclusion without
a strong standing army to put down rebel-
lion ; and this task the standing army had
failed to accomplish. Thus the "Thorough"
system, or rather the attempt to establish it,
had proved a failure ; and the King was
obliged to have recourse to the expedient
he would gladly have avoided — the calling
of a parliament ; and, accordingly, after an
interval of more than ten years, the writs for
269
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
the assembling of the Lords and Commons
were issued, at the beginning of 1640.
The "Short Parliament" and its
Fate.
From the day when parhamentay govern-
ment was once more re-established in Eng-
land, until the sad hour that saw the country
deprived of his services when she needed
them most, the life of Hampden forms part
of the history of England. He was chosen
to represent his native county, Buckingham-
shire, and at once came to London to enter
upon his duties. He was now in close inti-
macy and companionship with Pym, who
divided with him the care and labour of
leading the popular party in the House of
Commons.
The Parliament met in April 1640 ; and
the first question to be brought under its con-
sideration was that of ship-money. The
King, whose necessities were pressing, offered
to give up the prerogative of levying this tax,
in consideration of twelve subsidies ; and here
at once arose an occasion of diflerence. For
the King had already surrendered the right
(if he ever possessed it) on a former occasion,
receiving five subsidies as the price of the
concession ; and had afterwards resumed the
alleged right so soon as it suited him to take
back his words. The Commons were willing
to grant supplies, but not exactly in the form
demanded by His Majesty. As Macaulay
observes, they could hardly be expected to
purchase over again what they had already
bought and paid for.
They were not allowed time for deliberating,
nor for discussing the question. So soon as
he found there was to be a debate, Charles
angrily dissolved the parliament, to the sorrow
and indignation of the country, and to the
surprise and bewilderment of the King's own
friends, who, like Clarendon, could not
imagine in what way the Commons had
offended him. Clarendon himself describes
the House as very loyal and anxious to serve
His Majesty. " It could never be hoped,"
he says, " that more sober and dispassionate
men would ever meet together in that place,
or fewer who brought ill purposes with them."
But the fact of their questioning the legality
of ship-money, his favourite impost, seems to
have been enough to set the King against
the Commons.
And so this emphatically short parliament
separated after a session of only a few days.
The Long Parliament and its Doings ;
A Great Opportunity.
Again the system of despotism was tried
in England. Ship-money was exacted more
rigorously than ever, and the assessments
were to a larger amount. Forced loans and
other similar expedients were also brought
into action ; and it seemed as though the
government were ready to brave any amount
of unpopularity in the frantic endeavour to
obtain "the sinews of war" for combating
the Scots. All was in vain. The army
raised by the King would not face the enemy.
The flight of the troops has been attributed
to disaffection rather than to cowardice. Be
that as it may, they ran away ; and the Scot-
tish army advanced into England. There
was no resource but to call a parliament;
and accordingly that celebrated assembly,
known as the Long Parliament, met in the
beginning of November 1640, under circum-
stances that gave to it a power no previous
House of Commons had possessed.
And the members v/ere conscious of their
power, and determined to use it without stint.
Clarendon tells us how " the same men who,
six months before, were observed to be of
very moderate tempers, and to wish that
gentle remedies might be applied, talked
now in another dialect, both of kings and
other persons ; and said that they must now
be of another temper than they were the last
parliament." Hampden again sat for Buck-
inghamshire. He had been elected both for
the county and for his old borough of Wen-
dover.
And now, more than ever, were all eyes
turned on John Hampden, the patriot.
Clarendon describes him as being generally
considered, at this period, as pater patrics,
the pilot who was to guide the ship of the
state through the perils and quicksands that
surrounded it, and to whose unswerving in-
tegrity, unerring sagacity, and tried rectitude
of conduct, followers and opponents alike
paid ungrudging testimony. His rare talent
for parliamentary debate, his power of sway-
ing to his will a large and turbulent assem-
blage, the convincing strength of his logic,
are seen everywhere during that eventful
session, in which the parliament, alike deter-
mined and indignant, pulled down so much
that had long formed part of the government
of the country, the Star Chamber, the High
Commission, the Northern Court ; besides
executing vengeance on Strafford and Laud,
and calling to account the timid and venal
judges who, by their judgments in the great
ship-money case, had virtually surrendered
the property of eveiy man in England into
the hands of the sovereign. Everywhere the
presence of the great statesman is felt, every-
where his voice is heard, advising, admon-
ishing, pleading for justice, and advocating
moderation in the hour of triumph. Claren-
don's opinion of his talents and character is
pronounced in no doubtful terms. " Of an
industry and vigilance not to be tired out or
wearied by the most laborious, and of parts
not to be imposed upon by the most subtle and
sharp." " His reputation of honesty was uni-
270
HAMPDEN AND SHIPMONEY.
Hampden mortally wounded at Chalgrove Field.
271
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
versal, and his affections seemed so publicly-
guided that no corrupt or private ends could
bind them." Such, with a high appreciation
of his statesmanship, is Clarendon's opinion
of the character of Hampden.
It was a great opportunity that which now-
presented itself to the Long Parliament ; and
to Hampden is greatly due the credit of the
fact that on the whole the opportunity was
well used for the honour and advantage of
the country.
How THE Country drifted into the
Civil War ; Conclusion.
During the first session of the Long Par-
liament, there was general unanimity among
the members in the Commons as to the
necessity of sweeping away abuses, and taking
vengeance on evil doers. But when the
Houses met again, after the recess, there was
.considerable difference of opinion ; a reaction
had set in in favour of the King, with whom
many sympathized in his humiliation and
helplessness ; and stormy debates took place
in the House, in which the wisdom and
moderation of the great popular leader were
more than ever called into request. This
was especially the case in the debate whether
the Grand Remonstrance — a document in
which all the misrule of his reign was set
forth— should be presented to the King or
not. One of the members emphatically de-
clares that but for the restraining influence
of Hampden they would have been sheath-
ing their swords in each other's bosoms.
At one time it was in contemplation to
form a Ministry from among the chief mem-
bers of the House, and the office of tutor to
the Prince of Wales was to have been en-
trusted to Hampden ; but on the death of
the Earl of Bedford, the negotiation fell
through.
The last chance of the re-establishment of
confidence between the King and his Parlia-
ment was lost when, on the 5th of January,
1642, Charles came down to the House of
Parliament with an armed force, to arrest
the great patriot and four of his colleagues
in the Commons, on a charge of high treason.
This flagrant violation of law and justice
filled up the measure of the unhappy monarch's
errors. It astounded and bewildered his
friends, and lost him many waverers who
were ready to turn to him, but now felt con-
vinced that no, compact worthy of the name
could be made with the ruler who could take
such a step. And so Charles quitted London ;
and in a few months the royal standard was
raised at Nottingham, and the Civil War
began. Of that great struggle Hampden
only saw the commencement. ]^o greater
calamity could have befallen the Parlia-
mentary party than the loss of the one man
in whose patriotism there was not the smallest
leaven of self-seeking ; whose thoughts and
hopes and aspirations from the commence-
ment were for his country. From the be-
ginning of the war, Hampden seemed to
have recognised it as one in which it was
necessary not only to draw the sword, but to
throw away the scabbard. He deprecated
the negligence which left the marauding
cavalry of the Royalists to range through the
country at will ; and it was in an attempt to
remedy errors of this kind, committed by the
languid Essex, that a life, invaluable to his
country and her cause, was sacrificed. In a
skirmish on Chalgrove field, against the
cavalry of Rupert, he was severely and, as it
proved, mortally wounded ; and rode slowly
out of the field to die. His last words and
his last thoughts were for the country he had
loved so well, and served so faithfully. " He
was buried," says Lord Macaulay, "in the
parish church of Hampden. His soldiers,
bare-headed, with reversed arms and muffled
drums and colours, escorted his body to the
grave, singing, as they marched, that lofty
and melancholy psalm, in which the fragility
of human life is contrasted with the immuta-
bility of Him to whom a thousand years are
as yesterday when it is passed, and as a watch
in the night." And long afterwards, when he
was Protector of England, Oliver Cromwell
spoke to those around him of the days when
the great struggle began. " I had a very
worthy friend then," said the Protector, — we
may imagine with a touch of pathos in his
voice, — " and he was a very noble person,
and I know his memory is very grateful to
all, — Mr. John Hampden." And so, after a
lapse of two centuries and a half, the name
of John Hampden is still grateful, and re-
presents all that is good and noble, in the
affectionate remembrance of the nation,
in whose name he dared to stand up alone
and undaunted for liberty.
H. W. D.
272
Calcutta.
FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO
PLASSEY.
THE STORY OF ENGLAND'S SUPREMACY IN BENGAL.
A Memorial of a Great Event — India under Aurungzebe and his Successors — The East India Companies and their Rivalries
— The Dutch in India ; their Arrogance — England and France in the Carnatic — Dupleix and his Schemes of Dominion
— Robert Clive — The Defence of Arcot — Supremacy of the British in Hindostan — Suraj-ud-Dowlah and the English
in Calcutta — Capture of Calcutta — The Massacre of the Black Hole — Mr. Holwell's Account of the Transaction — The
Expedition from Madras ; Victory and Revenge — The Conspiracy to dethrone the Suba ; Omichund and his
Treachery — " Diamond cut Diamond" : Clive's Device — Opinions of Mill and Macaulay on his Conduct — The War
against the Nabob; Clive in Command — Question of risking a General Engagement — The Battle of Plassey and its
Consequences — Meer Jafifier Ruler of Bengal, Orissa, and Bahar — Pecuniary Transactions of Clive with Meer Jaffier —
Further Victories — Rewards and Honours ; Return of Clive to England — The Company's Rule in India ; Grievances
and Calamities — ' ' Ringing the Changes on Soubahs "— Meer Cossim and his Successors — Further Proceedings of the
Company — Clive's Third Visit to India — How he applied the Remedy — The Result — Conclusion.
A Memorial of a Great Event.
MONO the monuments that attract
the attention of the stranger in
Calcutta, there is one especially to
which a dark and mournful, and at
the same time a proud interest is attached ;
for while, on the one hand, it bears record of
a great and terrible calamity and outrage, it
marks, on the other, the vengeance exacted
for wrongs perpetrated against British sub-
jects, long before the days of Lord Palmer-
ston and his famous doctrine of " Civis
Romanus sum." The monument in ques-
tion, which makes no claim to architectural
or decorative beauty, marks the site of the
prison chamber where, in 1756, was com-
273 T
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
mitted " that great crime memorable for its
singular atrocity, memorable for the tre-
mendous retribution by which it was
followed," — generally known as the Mas-
sacre of the Black Hole. Here it was,
the spectator reads, that in one burning
night of a Bengal summer a hundred and
twenty-three out of a hundred and forty-six
English people were done to death by the
cruelty of their guards ; and from the atrocity
then accomplished arose the train of events
which ended in making the Enghsh masters
ofHindostan.
For with the massacre of the Black Hole
of Calcutta is intimately associated the
great victory of Plassey, with all its momen-
tous consequences. Seldom in history has a
great and important series of events, involv-
ing consequences of no less magnitude than
the transfer of a vast empire, been accom-
plished within so short a space of time as in
that memorable epoch in the annals of India.
In 1756 was the massacre of the Black
Hole, In the next year the English were
virtually masters of Bengal, Orissa, and
Bahar, and had the undoubted supremacy
over the various European powers located in
India.
India under Aurungzebe and his
Successors.
Early in the sixteenth century a great
conqueror, a descendant of Timur Beg or
Timur the Lame, came marching through
the mountain passes which separate the
Afghan territories from Hindostan ; and suc-
ceeded, after a series of sanguinary combats,
in establishing himself, by the decisive battle
of Panipat, near Delhi, in 1526, as the ruler
of India. This conqueror was Baber, the
first of the Great Moguls ; and at Delhi
he established his throne, from which his
descendants continued for centuries to sway
the destinies of the mighty realm that ex-
tended from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin.
The empire of the Moguls was remarkable
for its splendour and magnificence. Roe,
Bernier, and various travellers tell of the
glories of Delhi ; of Agra, the second city
in the empire, and of the various rich and
fertile provinces whose wealth was poured
into the treasury of the great Moguls.
About a hundred and thirty years after the
commencement of the Mogul rule, Aurang
Zib, the " ornament of the throne," generally
known as Aurungzebe, began his long reign
of half a century. He was the craftiest and
most astute ruler of his race ; and when he
at length died, at the age of eighty-nine, the
empire he governed appeared outwardly
vigorous, and retained the semblance of
prosperity ; he had considerably widened
the borders of the country that obeyed his
mandates. In reality, however, the seeds of
decay were already in the empire, though
hidden by Aurungzebe's energy and ability.
He was no sooner dead than the disorgani-
zation of the state began to show itself in
the most lamentable form ; and throughout
the first half of the eighteenth century the
once proud supremacy of the Moguls existed
only in name.
As in various countries, in mediaeval and
earlier times, the weakness of the chief
government led to the establishment of
separate authorities, only nominally sub-
servient to the central power. The rulers of
the various parts of India, still calling them-
selves vassals to the Great Mogul, became
virtually independent ; the various Nizams,
Nabobs, Rajahs, and others, doing what
seemed right in their own eyes, without
reference to the sluggish ruler at Delhi. The
land was full of violence and bloodshed,
various foreign invaders, Persians, Afghans,
and numerous fierce tribes, contending with
the natives for the mastery ; and in certain
districts irregular governments were set up
by freebooting chiefs, who held their ill-
gotten power in spite of all efforts to over-
throw them. Among these, the most noted
for courage and ferocity were the Mahrattas,
who not only levied contributions, or as
Lord Macaulay designates it, "black-mail,"
upon the sovereign himself at Delhi, but
extended their depredations to Calcutta
itself, so that it became necessary to erect
fortifications, and to dig the celebrated
Mahratta ditch, in the hope of ensuring
safety against them.
The East India Companies, and their
Rivalries.
Since the period when the discovery of the
maritime route to India opened a new way
for commerce between the western nations
and the opulent East, various nations had
endeavoured to engross to themselves, as far
as possible, the great advantages accruing
from the trade with India. At the end of
Elizabeth's reign the East India Company
had been formed; and during the seventeenth
century it had continued to grow in import-
ance and wealth. In the reign of William III.,
great dissentions had occurred, in conse-
quence of the formation of a new company,
which was alleged to have infringed the
rights of the older institution ; but the two
rivals very sensibly effected an amalgama-
tion, and after 1708 appeared as one, under
the name of the United East India Company.
This corporation possessed a very valuable
monopoly of the trade to India; and one of
the chief duties of its agents and servants
consisted in keeping a vigilant eye upon all
private traders who attempted to infringe
the right granted to the Company by its
274
FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY.
charter, which was three times renewed
during the course of the eighteenth cen-
tury.
The second East India Company, and one
that prospered greatly during the latter part
of the seventeenth century, when it more than
competed with the English corporation, was
that of Holland.
That the Dutch were at one time very
formidable rivals to the English East India
Company, and took every opportunity to
increase their power, is abundantly mani-
fest. In Pepys's Diary, under date of the
15th of February, 1663-64, we find the
following entry : "This afternoon Sir Thomas
Chamberlin come to the office to me, and
shewed me several letters from the East
Indys, shewing the height that the Dutch
are come to there, shewing scorn to aU the
English, even in our only factory there of
Surat, beating several men, and hanging
the English standard St. George under the
Dutch flag in scorn \ saying that whatever
their masters do or say at home, they will
do what they list, and be masters of all the
world there ; and have so proclaimed them-
selves Sovereigns of all the South Seas ;
which certainly our King cannot endure if
the Parliament will give him money."
Things had been very different under
grim old Oliver, who would have demanded
most signal reparation for such an insult to
the British flag. The " Standard Saint
George," and the interests of the country it
represented, were not likely to suffer in his
hands. Under the same month, Mr. Pepys
relates how he and his acquaintance Mr.
Cutler, being on the Exchange, in London :
"by-and-by joyned with us Sir John Bankes,
who told us several passages of the East
India Company ; and how, in every case,
where there was due to him and alderman
Mico ^64,000 for injury done to them in the
East Indys, Oliver, presently after the peace,
they delaying to pay them the money, sent
them word, that if they did not pay them by
such a day, he would grant letters of mark
to those merchants against them ; by which
they were so fearful of him, they did pre-
sently pay the money every farthing." This
was completely in the Protector's style of
dealing with those who inflicted injury on
the country he governed and made respected
throughout the world.
England and France in the Carnatic.
But the power of Holland was greatly
diminished, and her influence became com-
paratively insignificant, in the eighteenth
century ; while in India the power of France
rose rapidly, and for a time threatened to
exceed, if not to extinguish, all other foreign
influences in that country. The astute and
energetic Dupleix, governor of Pondicherry,
the chief French settlement in that rich pro-
vince of the Deccan known as the Carnatic,
took advantage of the rivalry of two com-
petitors for the throne of the Deccan, and for
the governorship of the Carnatic, to make the
influence of France predominant in India.
The opportunity for interference occurred on
the death of the Nizam al Mulk, ruler of the
Deccan, in 1748. The scheme of Dupleix
was " to make a nabob of the Carnatic, to
make a viceroy of the Deccan, to rule under
their names the whole of southern India."
The English, as was their wont, took the
opposite side, and supported the claims of
the candidates against whom the French
were fighting; but Dupleix succeeded in
seating his protege, Mirzapha Jung, on the
throne of the Deccan, and was rewarded by
the grateful puppet king with such exu-
berance of honour, that for a time he became
the greatest man in southern India — a kind
of Mayor of the Palace to this Eastern slug-
gard king — and his scheme seemed to have
completely succeeded.
But there had been shipped to India, a
io-w years previously, as a writer in the
Company's service, "to make a fortune, or
to die of a fever at Madras," a very hot-
headed, obstinate, and apparently imprac-
ticable youth, named Robert Clive. Beyond
personal courage and audacity of the most
reckless kind, he had given no token of any
unusual quahfications, until circumstances
gave him the opportunity of appearing in a
military character, when he at once astonished
the whole community by the judgment and
skill he displayed. " Born a soldier," was
the verdict pronounced on him by Major
Lawrence, who was considered the most
efficient officer in India. It was Robert
CUve who, by the wonderful defence of
Arcot, the capital, of the Carnatic, against
the great army of Rajah Sahib, the opponent
of the English, turned the tide which had
till then flowed persistently in favour of the
French. He had shown, on this occasion,
the best qualities of a leader — ^judgment,
perseverance, vigilance, and that rare faculty
of inspiring his followers with attachment
and confidence, which is one of the truest
signs of the military genius. No materials
were so hopeless, but Robert Clive would
convert them into a fighting force ; no pro-
ject so desperate, but he would undertake it,
and carry it to a successful issue.
Dupleix made great and persistent efforts
to regain the ground he and his nation were
rapidly losing ; but under Clive " his genius
was rebuked, as it is said Mark Antony's was
by Caesar." He had caused a city to be built,
and named it Dupleix Fatihabad, " the city
of the victory of Dupleix" ; but Clive caused
it to be destroyed. He urgently represented
27s
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
to the Government at home the necessity of
supporting him in the great struggle he was
waging ; but his appeals were disregarded ;
and worst of all, he was himself no soldier,
and was opposed to a military genius whom
Frederick of Prussia would not have been
ashamed to own as a brother. He retired at
length to France, having spent time, energy,
and fortune in vain ; and the supremacy of
the French in India was at an end. Clive,
on the other hand, after consolidating the
advantages he had gained, went back to
England with flying colours, to be received
with welcome and honour by the East India
Company's directors in Leadenhall Street,
and by the public ; especially by the holders
of East India
stock, who nick-
named him "Gene-
ral Clive," and pro-
phesied that he
would do still
greater things in
the future.
Until this time
the English had
been looked upon
in the Carnatic
as no more than a
trading company,
possessing certain
factories, with forts
for the protection
of their warehouses
and settlements —
such as Fort St.
George at Madras,
Fort William at
Calcutta, Fort St.
David, subordi-
nate to Fort St.
George,and others.
But now they had
assumed another
character. Having
been compelled by
the force of events
to make good
their position against the French and against
native opponents, they were obliged to
retain the military position they had taken
up; and thus began the dominion of the Eng-
lish in Hindostan. When Clive, after a stay
of less than two years in England, during
which time he endeavoured unsuccessfully
to get into Parliament, but succeeded in
spending the fortune he had brought home,
applied again to the Company for employ-
ment, he was sent out in the honourable
position of Governor of Fort St. David ;
and a colonel's commission was bestowed
upon him by the Government at home.
He had thoroughly established his reputa-
tion.
Lord Clive.
suraj-ud-dowlah, and the english in
Calcutta.
Thus Clive, after he had, in conjunction
with a brave English naval officer, Admiral
Watson, utterly defeated a renowned pirate
chief, Angria, and destroyed Gheriah, his
stronghold, proceeded to take possession of
his government of Fort St. David. Very
important events were happening in north-
eastern India. The richest part of that great
country comprised those regions through
which flowed the fertilising stream of the
Ganges, the holy river that turned the wilder-
ness into a garden, and called forth the most
exuberant growth of vegetation beneath the
burning Indian
sun. Lord Ma-
caulay quotes the
Spanish proverb,
that in Andalusia
the earth is water,
and the men wo-
men, and applies
the saying to the
valley of the lower
Ganges, where the
heavy, humid at-
mosphere, the
" constant vapour-
bath," in which
the Bengalee lives,
engenders languid
and sedentary ha-
bits, very different
from those of the
inhabitants of the
hilly countries,
such as Rohilcund,
for instance. The
Bengalee is keen-
witted, intriguing,
and pertinacious,
but is described
as ordinarily of
sedentary habits,
and rather crafty
than physically
brave, excepting with that passive courage
that displays itself in stoical endurance of the
inevitable.
Like the other great divisions of India,
Bengal, with the provinces of Orissa and
Bahar, was governed by a ruler, nominally a
vassal of the Mogul Emperor at Delhi, but
in reality independent. He was generally
spoken of by the Company's servants by his
title of the Suba.
In 1756, after the death of the Suba Ali-
verdy Khan, Suraj-ud-Dowlah, the grandson
of that powerful ruler, succeeded to his
dominions. He was only nineteen years of
age, ignorant, faithless, and debauched ; of
violent temper, and weak understanding ; one
276
FROM THE BLACK HOLE TO PLASSEY.
of those wretched Cahgulas or Charles the
Ninths to whom the irony of fate seems
occasionally to entrust power, as if to show
how completely it may be abused. The fame
of the English and of their progress in
Madras can hardly have failed to reach
Moorshedabad, the ancient capital of Bengal,
where the Suba held his state ; for within a
very few years the Company, from being
merely traders, paying rent for the very
ground on which they had built forts to
protect their depots of goods, had developed
into soldiers and diplomatists, and had shown
themselves strong enough to take up a
commanding position. Nor is it to be sup-
posed that the French, who had seen their
supremacy overthrown in the Carnatic, would
fail to use what influence they possessed in
Bengal in stimulating the distrust and jea-
lousy of the Suba, whose envy and rapacity
had been aroused by the report of the wealth
in the warehouses of the East India Company
at Calcutta. The desire of plunder seems to
have been the crowning motive that induced
him suddenly to commence a war against the
foreign merchant community.
Capture of Calcutta ; the Massacre
OF THE Black Hole.
When it became known in the English
settlement that the Suba was marching with
a great army against Calcutta, the consterna-
tion was great. Fort William was not in a
state to sustain a long siege by a considerable
force ; the number of the English was small,
and there was no Clive or Lawrence among
them to direct their movements. Deserted
by the governor and by the military com-
mandant, who provided with indecent haste
for their own safety, the defenders of Calcutta
were soon obliged to yield to the great force
brought against them, and surrender them-
selves prisoners of war. As the Suba pro-
mised them their lives, they were in no appre-
hension of anything worse than imprisonment
for a limited period, until the terms for their
liberation should be arranged.
Then it was that the cruel piece of villainy
was perpetrated that ultimately cost Suraj-
ud-Dowlah his throne and his life. Lord
Macaulay, in his eloquent and vivid account
of the transaction, describes the prison of the
garrison, in which the captives were confined,
as " known by \\\& fearful name of the Black
Hole;" though to the mind of a soldier the
name merely implies the '' lock-up," or prison
room, to which Private Thomas Atkins is
marched if the picket should find him brawl-
ing in the streets, or absent from barracks
without leave. That the atrocity was deli-
berately planned for the murder of the pri-
soners cannot be doubted. They were driven,
a hundred and forty-six in number, into a
prison room, twenty feet square, on one of the
hottest nights of a Bengal summer, and the
door was locked and barred behind them.
They quickly began to suffocate for want of
air, and the scene became horrible in the
extreme. " They cried for mercy," writes
Lord Macaulay, recounting the sufferings of
the unhappy captives. " They strove to burst
the door, and Holwell" (the highest in rank of
the Company's servants among the prisoners),
" who, even in that extremity, retained some
presence of mind, offered large bribes to the
gaolers. But the answer was that nothing
could be done without the Nabob's orders ;
that the Nabob was asleep, and that he would
be angry if any one woke him. Then the
prisoners went mad with despair. They
trampled each other down, fought for the
places at the windows, fought for the pittance
of water with which the cruel mercy of the
gaolers mocked their agonies, raved, prayed ,
blasphemed, implored the guards to firj
among them. The gaolers meanwhile held
lights to the bars, and shouted with laughter
at the frantic struggles of their victims. At
length the tumult died away in low gasp-
ings and meanings." When the door was
opened in the morning, only twenty-three
survivors of that fearful night came forth
from the cell which a hundred and forty-
six had entered only a few hours before.
The rest had been stifled, or crushed to
death in the frantic struggle to get at the
windows, or airholes, where alone was a
chance for life.
The responsibility for the massacre is cast
by Lord Macaulay, indirectly at least, upon
Suraj-ud-Dowlah — who, he says, showed no
mercy to the survivors, and inflicted no punish-
ment upon the perpetrators. But it is a
question whether the Nabob knew anything
of the atrocious affair until the crime had
been completed ; nor would it probably have
been safe to punish his savage soldiers for
cruelties perpetrated upon the enemy in time
of war. Even in our own times, during the
Indian mutiny of 1857-8, we read, in the
diary of Dr. Russell, of tortures, such as
roasting over a slow fire, inflicted by some
native troops in our service upon rebel Sepoys
they captured, without notice being taken of
it ; and the Nabob was in a great measure
dependent upon his army for the maintenance
of his authority.
Mr. Holwell himself has left a plain,
straightforward record of his sufferings on
that night of horror, during which he managed
to secure a position at a grated window, which
enabled him to breathe. He attributes the
massacre to a feeling of revenge among the
janissaries of the Suba,who were angry because
some of their number had been killed in the
defence of the fort. He describes how at his
entreaty an old janissary went twice to try
^n
EPOCHS AND EPISODES OF HISTORY.
and procure the removal of half the prisoners
to another prison ; and on the second occa-
sion "he told us," says Mr. Holweil, with
what appeared to be real compassion in his
looks, "that it was impossible; theSubawas
asleep, and nobody dared to wake him." The
water, also, seems to have been given in
something like a tardy access of pity, rather
than from a desire to mock the agonies of
the captives.
The Expedition from Madras ; Victory
AND Revenge.
In due course, the news of the capture of
Calcutta, and of the massacre of the Black
Hole, reached Madras, and was received with
mingled horror and indignation. It was
readily understood that vengeance must be
exacted at all risks ; for the influence of
the English in India was gone for ever if
such acts remained unpunished. An expe-
dition was at once despatched to the Hoog-
ley ; Clive being placed in command of the
troops, among whom were nine hundred
Englishmen, while Admiral Watson con-
ducted the naval operations.
In a very short time Calcutta was retaken,
and Budgebudge and Hoogley had also fallen
into the power of the victors. Suraj-ud-Dowlah,
who until then had no idea of the power of
the English, was astounded and bewildered
at the rapid success of his enemies. He
hastened to offer terms of peace, promising
compensation to those who had suffered by
his seizure of Calcutta, and generally showing
a pacific disposition — which however, did
not last long.
The fact seems to have been that the Suba's
hatred of the English was undiminished ; or
rather, it was increased by the necessity of
conciliating them, and by the startling and
unpleasant evidences he received of their
power. Naturally under such circumstances
the idea occurred to him to set up the influence
of the French to counteract that of the Eng-
lish ; not altogether an unstatesmanlike idea,
if he had had the judgment and persistence
to carry it out. But he could never pursue a
line of policy; for every new danger appalled
him, and he lost the confidence of his own
subjects, while his opponents became con-
vinced that no treaty would bind him, and
that while he sat on the throne of Bengal
there was no prospect of permanent peace.
Accordingly, when Suraj-ud-Dovvlah opened
negociations with the French at Chanderna-
gore, and with Bussy — the most efficient
French official in India — an expedition was
at once organized against Chandernagore by
Clive and Watson, and its brilliant success
put an end to the Nabob's hopes in that direc-
tion. He is described by Lord Macaulay as
behaving on this occasion "with all the faith-
lessness of an Indian statesman, and all the
levity of a boy whose mind had been en-
feebled by power and self-indulgence." But
he was destined to meet with cunning and
duplicity far beyond his own.
The Conspiracy to dethrone the Suba;
Omichund and his Treachery.
It was now that theEnghsh began to work
out in Bengal a system, the example forwhich
had been set in the Deccan, some years
before, by Dupleix, in his dealings with
Mirzapha Jung and that potentate's succes-
sor, — the system, namely, of consolidating
their rule and authority by governing through
some puppet prince whom they should set
up. Now began the practice of placing on the
throne nabobs who should be compelled to
defer in all things to the power to which they
owed their elevation— a policy which in one
notable instance led to a greater atrocity even
than that of the Black Hole — the massacre of
Patna. Writing some years later on this
system, in his " Seasonable Hint and Per-
swasive to the Court of Directors of the East
India Company," Mr. Holweil strongly de-
precates this system, and advocates its being
superseded by a direct authority to be ob-
tained by the English from the Great Mogul
himself. " Let us have done with this ringing J
changes upon Soubahs," he says: "there's -S
no end to it ; let us boldly dare to be Soubah
ourselves. Our own terms have been more
than once off"ered to us by the Emperor : why
should we longer hesitate to accept them 1
We have not scrupled to seize and possess
part of his territory with violence ; surely it
would be more conscientious, and more con-
sistent with the laws of nature and nations,
to hold the whole of these provinces under
him by his own appointment ; " and Mr.
Holweil has also a just appreciation of the
real position of the phantom who still bore
the title of a great potentate, and was called
the Great Mogul, while the attributes which
once accompanied that title had long passed
away. " That this would readily be assented
to on his part." he adds, " if a proper overture
came from us, is not to be doubted ; the con-
sideration of his own great and obvious ad-
vantages, and the necessities of his situation,
would leave him no room for choice." This
was good advice, and to some extent it was
ultimately followed ; but not until the system
of "ringing the changes on Soubahs" had
been pursued for some time, and occasionally
with tragic consequences.
Among his own subjects, no less than
among the English, the baseness, cmelty,
and dissoluteness ef Suraj-ud-Dowlah had
excited enmity and contempt. A plot was
accordingly formed among some of the lead-
ing natives to deprive him of his throne ; and
in this plot the English heartily joined. Mr.
>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^