Volume Iii Part 41 (1/2)
The king's prerogative, and the subject's liberty, were points hard to distinguish, and were established but by contest. Sometimes the king imagined that ”the house pressed not upon the abuses of power, but only upon power itself.” Sometimes the commons doubted whether they had anything of their own to give; while their property and their persons seemed equally insecure. Despotism seemed to stand on one side, and Faction on the other--Liberty trembled!
The conference of the commons before the lords, on the freedom and person of the subject, was admirably conducted by Selden and by c.o.ke.
When the king's attorney affected to slight the learned arguments and precedents, pretending to consider them as mutilated out of the records, and as proving rather against the commons than for them, Sir Edward c.o.ke rose, affirming to the house, upon his skill in the law, that ”it lay not under Mr. Attorney's cap to answer any one of their arguments.”
Selden declared that he had written out all the records from the Tower, the Exchequer, and the King's Bench, with his own hand; and ”would engage his head, Mr. Attorney should not find in all these archives a single precedent omitted.” Mr. Littleton said, that he had examined every one _syllabatim_, and whoever said they were mutilated spoke false! Of so ambiguous and delicate a nature was then the liberty of the subject, that it seems they considered it to depend on precedents!
A startling message, on the 12th of April, was sent by the king for despatch of business. The house, struck with astonishment, desired to have it repeated. They remained sad and silent. No one cared to open the debate. A whimsical politician, Sir Francis Nethersole,[309]
suddenly started up, entreating leave to tell his last night's dream.
Some laughing at him, he observed, that ”kingdoms had been saved by dreams!” Allowed to proceed, he said, ”he saw two good pastures; a flock of sheep was in the one, and a bell-wether alone in the other; a great ditch was between them, and a narrow bridge over the ditch.”
He was interrupted by the Speaker, who told him that it stood not with the gravity of the house to listen to dreams; but the house was inclined to hear him out.
”The sheep would sometimes go over to the bell-wether, or the bell-wether to the sheep. Once both met on the narrow bridge, and the question was who should go back, since both could not go on without danger. One sheep gave counsel that the sheep on the bridge should lie on their bellies, and let the bell-wether go over their backs. The application of this dilemma he left to the house.”[310] It must be confessed that the bearing of the point was more ambiguous than some of the important ones that formed the matters of their debates. _Davus sum, non Oedipus!_ It is probable that this fantastical politician did not vote with the opposition; for Eliot, Wentworth, and c.o.ke, protested against the interpretation of dreams in the house!
When the attorney-general moved that the liberties of the subject might be moderated, to reconcile the differences between themselves and the sovereign, Sir Edward c.o.ke observed, that ”the true mother would never consent to the dividing of her child.” On this, Buckingham swore that c.o.ke intimated that the king, his master, was the prost.i.tute of the state. c.o.ke protested against the misinterpretation. The dream of Nethersole, and the metaphor of c.o.ke, were alike dangerous in parliamentary discussion.
In a ma.n.u.script letter it is said that the House of Commons sat four days without speaking or doing anything. On the first of May, Secretary Cooke delivered a message, asking whether they would rely upon the _king's word_? This question was followed by a long silence. Several speeches are reported in the letters of the times, which are not in Rushworth. Sir Nathaniel Rich observed that, ”confident as he was of the royal word, what did any indefinite word ascertain?” Pym said, ”We have his majesty's coronation oath to maintain the laws of England; what need we then take his word?” He proposed to move ”Whether we should take the king's word or no.” This was resisted by Secretary Cooke; ”What would they say in foreign parts, if the people of England would not trust their king?” He desired the house to call Pym to order; on which Pym replied, ”Truly, Mr. Speaker, I am just of the same opinion I was; viz., that the king's oath was as powerful as his word.” Sir John Eliot moved that it be put to the question, ”because they that would have it, do urge us to that point.” Sir Edward c.o.ke on this occasion made a memorable speech, of which the following pa.s.sage is not given in Rushworth:--
”We sit now in parliament, and therefore must take his _majesty's word no otherwise than in a parliamentary way_; that is, of a matter agreed on by both houses--his majesty sitting on his throne in his robes, with his crown on his head, and sceptre in his hand, and in full parliament; and his royal a.s.sent being entered upon record, _in perpetuam rei memoriam_. This was _the royal word of a king in parliament_, and not a word delivered in a chamber, and out of the mouth of a secretary at the second hand; therefore I motion, that the House of Commons, _more majorum_, should draw up a pet.i.tion, _de droict_, to his majesty; which, being confirmed by both houses, and a.s.sented unto by his majesty, will be as firm an act as any. Not that I distrust the king, but that I cannot take his trust but in a parliamentary way.”[311]
In this speech of Sir Edward c.o.ke we find the first mention, in the legal style, of the ever-memorable ”Pet.i.tion of Right,” which two days after was finished. The reader must pursue its history among the writers of opposite parties.
On Tuesday, June 5, a royal message announced that on the 11th the present sessions would close. This utterly disconcerted the commons.
Religious men considered it as a judicial visitation for the sins of the people; others raged with suppressed feelings; they counted up all the disasters which had of late occurred, all which were charged to one man: they knew not, at a moment so urgent, when all their liberties seemed at stake, whether the commons should fly to the lords, or to the king.
Sir John Eliot said, that as they intended to furnish his majesty with money, it was proper that he should give them time to supply him with counsel: he was renewing his old attacks on the duke, when he was suddenly interrupted by the Speaker, who, starting from the chair, declared that he was commanded not to suffer him to proceed; Eliot sat down in sullen silence. On Wednesday, Sir Edward c.o.ke broke the ice of debate. ”That man,” said he of the duke, ”is the grievance of grievances! As for going to the lords,” he added, ”that is not _via regia_; our liberties are impeached--it is our concern!”
On Thursday, the vehement cry of c.o.ke against Buckingham was followed up; as, says a letter-writer, when one good hound recovers the scent, the rest come in with a full cry.[312] A sudden message from the king absolutely forbade them to asperse any of his majesty's ministers, otherwise his majesty would instantly dissolve them.
This fell like a thunderbolt; it struck terror and alarm; and at the instant the House of Commons was changed into a scene of tragical melancholy! All the opposite pa.s.sions of human nature--all the national evils which were one day to burst on the country seemed, on a sudden, concentrated in this single spot! Some were seen weeping, some were expostulating, and some, in awful prophecy, were contemplating the future ruin of the kingdom; while others, of more ardent daring, were reproaching the timid, quieting the terrified, and infusing resolution into the despairing. Many attempted to speak, but were so strongly affected that their very utterance failed them. The venerable c.o.ke, overcome by his feelings when he rose to speak, found his learned eloquence falter on his tongue; he sat down, and tears were seen on his aged cheeks. The name of the public enemy of the kingdom was repeated, till the Speaker, with tears covering his face, declared he could no longer witness such a spectacle of woe in the commons of England, and requested leave of absence for half an hour. The speaker hastened to the king to inform him of the state of the house. They were preparing a vote against the duke, for being an arch-traitor and arch-enemy to king and kingdom, and were busied on their ”Remonstrance,” when the Speaker, on his return, after an absence of two hours, delivered his majesty's message, that they should adjourn till the next day.
This was an awful interval of time; many trembled for the issue of the next morning: one letter-writer calls it ”that black and doleful Thursday!” and another, writing before the house met, observes, ”What we shall expect this morning, G.o.d of heaven knows; we shall meet timely.”[313]
Charles probably had been greatly affected by the report of the Speaker, on the extraordinary state into which the whole house had been thrown; for on Friday the royal message imported that the king had never any intention of ”barring them from their right, but only to avoid scandal, that his ministers should not be accused for their counsel to him; and still he hoped that all Christendom might notice a sweet parting between him and his people.” This message quieted the house, but did not suspend their preparations for a ”Remonstrance,” which they had begun on the day they were threatened with a dissolution.
On Sat.u.r.day, while they were still occupied on the ”Remonstrance,”
unexpectedly, at four o'clock, the king came to parliament, and the commons were called up. Charles spontaneously came to reconcile himself to parliament. The king now gave his second answer to the ”Pet.i.tion of Right.” He said--”My maxim is, that the people's liberties strengthen the king's prerogative; and the king's prerogative is to defend the people's liberties. Read your pet.i.tion, and you shall have an answer that I am sure will please you.”[314] They desired to have the ancient form of their ancestors, ”Soit droit fait come il est desyre,” and not as the king had before given it, with any observation on it. Charles now granted this; declaring that his second answer to the pet.i.tion in nowise differed from his first; ”but you now see how ready I have shown myself to satisfy your demands; I have done my part; wherefore, if this parliament have not a happy conclusion, the sin is yours,--I am free from it!”
Popular grat.i.tude is at least as vociferous as it is sudden. Both houses returned the king acclamations of joy; everyone seemed to exult at the happy change which a few days had effected in the fate of the kingdom.
Everywhere the bells rung, bonfires were kindled, an universal holiday was kept through the town, and spread to the country: but an ominous circ.u.mstance has been registered by a letter-writer; the common people, who had caught the contagious happiness, imagined that all this public joy was occasioned by the king's consenting to commit the duke to the Tower!
Charles has been censured, even by Hume, for his ”evasions and delays”
in granting his a.s.sent to the ”Pet.i.tion of Right;” but now, either the parliament had conquered the royal unwillingness, or the king was zealously inclined on reconciliation. Yet the joy of the commons did not outlast the bonfires in the streets; they resumed their debates as if they had never before touched on the subjects: they did not account for the feelings of the man whom they addressed as the sovereign. They sent up a ”Remonstrance” against the duke,[315] and introduced his mother into it, as a patroness of popery. Charles declared, that after having granted the famous ”Pet.i.tion,” he had not expected such a return as this ”Remonstrance.” ”How acceptable it is,” he afterwards said, ”every man may judge; no wise man can justify it.” After the reading of the Remonstrance, the duke fell on his knees, desiring to answer for himself; but Charles no way relaxed in showing his personal favour.[316]
The duke was often charged with actions and with expressions of which, unquestionably, he was not always guilty; and we can more fairly decide on some points relating to Charles and the favourite, for we have a clearer notion of them than his contemporaries. The active spirits in the commons were resolved to hunt down the game to the death: for they now struck at, as the king calls it, ”one of the chief maintenances of my crown,” in tonnage and poundage, the levying of which, they now declared, was a violation of the liberties of the people. This subject again involved legal discussions, and another ”Remonstrance.” They were in the act of reading it, when the king suddenly came down to the house, sent for the Speaker, and prorogued the parliament. ”I am forced to end this session,” said Charles, ”some few hours before I meant, being not willing to receive any more Remonstrances, to which I must give a harsh answer.” There was at least as much of sorrow as of anger in this closing speech.
Buckingham once more was to offer his life for the honour of his master--and to court popularity! It is well known with what exterior fort.i.tude Charles received the news of the duke's a.s.sa.s.sination; this imperturbable majesty of his mind--insensibility it was not--never deserted him on many similar occasions. There was no indecision--no feebleness in his conduct; and that extraordinary event was not suffered to delay the expedition. The king's personal industry astonished all the men in office. One writes that the king had done more in six weeks than in the duke's time had been done in six months. The death of Buckingham caused no change; the king left every man to his own charge, but took the general direction into his own hands.[317] In private, Charles deeply mourned the loss of Buckingham; he gave no encouragement to his enemies: the king called him ”his martyr,” and declared ”the world was greatly mistaken in him; for it was thought that the favourite had ruled his majesty, but it was far otherwise; for that the duke had been to him a faithful and an obedient servant.”[318] Such were the feelings and ideas of the unfortunate Charles the First, which it is necessary to become acquainted with to judge of; few have possessed the leisure or the disposition to perform this historical duty, involved as it is in the history of our pa.s.sions. If ever the man shall be viewed, as well as the monarch, the private history of Charles the First will form one of the most pathetic of biographies.[319]
All the foreign expeditions of Charles the First were alike disastrous: the vast genius of Richelieu, at its meridian, had paled our ineffectual star! The dreadful surrender of Roch.e.l.le had sent back our army and navy baffled and disgraced; and Buckingham had timely perished, to save one more reproach, one more political crime, attached to his name. Such failures did not improve the temper of the times; but the most brilliant victory would not have changed the fate of Charles, nor allayed the fiery spirits in the commons, who, as Charles said, ”not satisfied in hearing complainers, had erected themselves into inquisitors after complaints.”
Parliament met. The king's speech was conciliatory. He acknowledged that the exaction of the duties of the customs was not a right which he derived from his hereditary prerogative, but one which he enjoyed as the gift of his people. These duties as yet had not indeed been formally confirmed by parliament, but they had never been refused to the sovereign. The king closed with a fervent e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n that the session, begun with confidence, might end with a mutual good understanding.[320]