The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 by Thomas Babington Macaulay (red scrolls of magic .TXT) 📖

lives on which great interest depended have been

terminated by unforeseen attacks of disease, is to be attributed

partly to the progress of medical and chemical science, but

partly also, it may be hoped, to the progress which the nation

has made in good sense, justice, and humanity.222


When all was over, James retired from the bedside to his closet,

where, during a quarter of an hour, he remained alone. Meanwhile

the Privy Councillors who were in the palace assembled. The new

King came forth, and took his place at the head of the board. He

commenced his administration, according to usage, by a speech to

the Council. He expressed his regret for the loss which he had

just sustained, and he promised to imitate the singular lenity

which had distinguished the late reign. He was aware, he said,

that he had been accused of a fondness for arbitrary power. But

that was not the only falsehood which had been told of him. He

was resolved to maintain the established government both in

Church and State. The Church of England he knew to be eminently

loyal. It should therefore always be his care to support and

defend her. The laws of England, he also knew, were sufficient to

make him as great a King as he could wish to be. He would not

relinquish his own rights; but he would respect the rights of

others. He had formerly risked his life in defense of his

country; and he would still go as far as any man in support of

her just liberties.


This speech was not, like modern speeches on similar occasions,

carefully prepared by the advisers of the sovereign. It was the

extemporaneous expression of the new King's feelings at a moment

of great excitement. The members of the Council broke forth into

clamours of delight and gratitude. The Lord President, Rochester,

in the name of his brethren, expressed a hope that His Majesty's

most welcome declaration would be made public. The Solicitor

General, Heneage Finch, offered to act as clerk. He was a zealous

churchman, and, as such, was naturally desirous that there should

be some permanent record of the gracious promises which had just

been uttered. "Those promises," he said, "have made so deep an

impression on me that I can repeat them word for word." He soon

produced his report. James read it, approved of it, and ordered

it to be published. At a later period he said that he had taken

this step without due consideration, that his unpremeditated

expressions touching the Church of England were too strong, and

that Finch had, with a dexterity which at the time escaped

notice, made them still stronger.223


The King had been exhausted by long watching and by many violent

emotions. He now retired to rest. The Privy Councillors, having

respectfully accompanied him to his bedchamber, returned to their

seats, and issued orders for the ceremony of proclamation. The

Guards were under arms; the heralds appeared in their gorgeous

coats; and the pageant proceeded without any obstruction. Casks

of wine were broken up in the streets, and all who passed were

invited to drink to the health of the new sovereign. But, though

an occasional shout was raised, the people were not in a joyous

mood. Tears were seen in many eyes; and it was remarked that

there was scarcely a housemaid in London who had not contrived to

procure some fragment of black crepe in honour of King

Charles.224


The funeral called forth much censure. It would, indeed, hardly

have been accounted worthy of a noble and opulent subject. The

Tories gently blamed the new King's parsimony: the Whigs sneered

at his want of natural affection; and the fiery Covenanters of

Scotland exultingly proclaimed that the curse denounced of old

against wicked princes had been signally fulfilled, and that the

departed tyrant had been buried with the burial of an ass.225 Yet

James commenced his administration with a large measure of public

good will. His speech to the Council appeared in print, and the

impression which it produced was highly favourable to him. This,

then, was the prince whom a faction had driven into exile and had

tried to rob of his birthright, on the ground that he was a

deadly enemy to the religion and laws of England. He had

triumphed: he was on the throne; and his first act was to declare

that he would defend the Church, and would strictly respect the

rights of his people. The estimate which all parties had formed

of his character, added weight to every word that fell from him.

The Whigs called him haughty, implacable, obstinate, regardless

of public opinion. The Tories, while they extolled his princely

virtues, had often lamented his neglect of the arts which

conciliate popularity. Satire itself had never represented him as

a man likely to court public favour by professing what he did not

feel, and by promising what he had no intention of performing. On

the Sunday which followed his accession, his speech was quoted in

many pulpits. "We have now for our Church," cried one loyal

preacher, "the word of a King, and of a King who was never worse

than his word." This pointed sentence was fast circulated through

town and country, and was soon the watchword of the whole Tory

party.226


The great offices of state had become vacant by the demise of the

crown and it was necessary for James to determine how they should

be filled. Few of the members of the late cabinet had any reason

to expect his favour. Sunderland, who was Secretary of State, and

Godolphin, who was First Lord of the Treasury, had supported the

Exclusion Bill. Halifax, who held the Privy Seal, had opposed

that bill with unrivalled powers of argument and eloquence. But

Halifax was the mortal enemy of despotism and of Popery. He saw

with dread the progress of the French arms on the Continent and

the influence of French gold in the counsels of England. Had his

advice been followed, the laws would have been strictly observed:

clemency would have been extended to the vanquished Whigs: the

Parliament would have been convoked in due season: an attempt

would have been made to reconcile our domestic factions; and the

principles of the Triple Alliance would again have guided our

foreign policy. He had therefore incurred the bitter animosity of

James. The Lord Keeper Guildford could hardly be said to belong

to either of the parties into which the court was divided. He

could by no means be called a friend of liberty; and yet he had

so great a reverence for the letter of the law that he was not a

serviceable tool of arbitrary power. He was accordingly

designated by the vehement Tories as a Trimmer, and was to James

an object of aversion with which contempt was largely mingled.

Ormond, who was Lord Steward of the Household and Viceroy of

Ireland, then resided at Dublin. His claims on the royal

gratitude were superior to those of any other subject. He had

fought bravely for Charles the First: he had shared the exile of

Charles the Second; and, since the Restoration, he had, in spite

of many provocations, kept his loyalty unstained. Though he had

been disgraced during the predominance of the Cabal, he had never

gone into factious opposition, and had, in the days of the Popish

Plot and the Exclusion Bill, been foremost among the supporters

of the throne. He was now old, and had been recently tried by the

most cruel of all calamities. He had followed to the grave a son

who should have been his own chief mourner, the gallant Ossory.

The eminent services, the venerable age, and the domestic

misfortunes of Ormond made him an object of general interest to

the nation. The Cavaliers regarded him as, both by right of

seniority and by right of merit, their head; and the Whigs knew

that, faithful as he had always been to the cause of monarchy, he

was no friend either to Popery or to arbitrary power. But, high

as he stood in the public estimation, he had little favor to

expect from his new master. James, indeed, while still a subject,

had urged his brother to make a complete change in the Irish

administration. Charles had assented; and it had been arranged

that, in a few months, there should be a new Lord Lieutenant.227


Rochester was the only member of the cabinet who stood high in

the favour of the King. The general expectation was that he would

be immediately placed at the head of affairs, and that all the

other great officers of the state would be changed. This

expectation proved to be well founded in part only. Rochester was

declared Lord Treasurer, and thus became prime minister. Neither

a Lord High Admiral nor a Board of Admiralty was appointed. The

new King, who loved the details of naval business, and would have

made a respectable clerk in a dockyard at Chatham, determined to

be his own minister of marine. Under him the management of that

important department was confided to Samuel Pepys, whose library

and diary have kept his name fresh to our time. No servant of the

late sovereign was publicly disgraced. Sunderland exerted so much

art and address, employed so many intercessors, and was in

possession of so many secrets, that he was suffered to retain his

seals. Godolphin's obsequiousness, industry, experience and

taciturnity, could ill be spared. As he was no longer wanted at

the Treasury, he was made Chamberlain to the Queen. With these

three Lords the King took counsel on all important questions. As

to Halifax, Ormond, and Guildford, he determined not yet to

dismiss them, but merely to humble and annoy them.


Halifax was told that he must give up the Privy seal and accept

the Presidency of the Council. He submitted with extreme

reluctance. For, though the President of the Council had always

taken precedence of the Lord Privy Seal, the Lord Privy Seal was,

in that age a much more important officer than the Lord

President. Rochester had not forgotten the jest which had been

made a few months before on his own removal from the Treasury,

and enjoyed in his turn the pleasure of kicking his rival up

stairs. The Privy Seal was delivered to Rochester's elder

brother, Henry Earl of Clarendon.


To Barillon James expressed the strongest dislike of Halifax. "I

know him well, I never can trust him. He shall have no share in

the management of public business. As to the place which I have

given him, it will just serve to show how little influence he

has." But to Halifax it was thought convenient to hold a very

different language. "All the past is forgotten," said the King,

"except the service which you did me in the debate on the

Exclusion Bill."