to the commons, desiring "that the petition of rights, with his assent thereunto, should not only be recorded in both houses, and in the courts of Westminster, but that it be put in print, for his honour, and the content and satisfaction of his people."1 The commons, according to Rushworth, "returned to their own house with unspeakable joy, and resolved so to proceed as to express their thankfulness. Now frequent mention was made of proceeding with the bill of subsidies, of sending the bills which were ready to the lords, and of perfecting the bill of tonnage and poundage. Sir John Strangewaies expressed his joy at the answer, and further added, Let us perfect our remonstrance.'"2 And such was their exact mode of procedure. The largest supplies that had been voted for years were at once presented to the king. The king's commission of excise was demanded to be cancelled under the new act of right. The bill for the granting of tonnage and poundage, which was already far advanced, was passed, but a protest voted at the same time, on the ground of its inconsistency with the new act, against Charles's old course of levying this imposition without consent of parliament. A remonstrance was also voted and presented to the king, against certain proceedings of Buckingham.4 These measures were not only in conformity with the petition, but were positively required to give it efficacy and completeness. No opportunity of concession or concord was withheld from Charles, but no distinct right was foreborne. The grand committees that were then sitting, on the various heads of religion, trade, grievances, and courts of justice, were ordered to sit no longer.1 Every appearance of unnecessary opposition was carefully avoided. 1 Parl. Hist., vol. viii. p. 203. 2 Rushworth, vol. i. p. 613. 3 The only plea advanced by the court lawyers against the conduct of the commons in this matter, worthy of notice, was founded on the iniquitous judgment of the court of exchequer in Bates's case during the last reign. But this plea had surely been barred by the resolutions I have so often named. Supposing it to be urged that the language of the petition was not sufficiently general to comprehend duties charged on merchandise at the outports, as well as internal taxes and exactions - an opinion which was strongly contested by Eliot-it is quite certain that the iniquitous application of the statutes in Bates's case, that grossest of instances of "judgemade law," was distinctly foreclosed. Tonnage and poundage, like other subsidies, could thereafter only spring from the free grant of the people. 4 This remonstrance, drawn up by Selden and Eliot, is extremely able. It is impossible, after reading it, to question its necessity. See Rushworth, vol. i. p. 619. But suddenly, in the midst of these measures, the com mons were summoned by the king to the house of lords. After a long interview with the speaker, Charles had hurried there to close the session. "It may seem strange," he said, when they appeared at the bar, "that I come so suddenly to end this session before I give my assent to the bills. I will tell you the cause, though I must avow that I owe the account of my actions to God alone." This was a very proper commencement to his speech; for, after peevishly complaining of the remonstrance against Buckingham, he went on to inform them that he would have no interference with his rights over tonnage and poundage; and, further, that they had altogether misunderstood the petition of rights. "I have granted no new, but only confirmed the ancient liberties of my subjects." His concluding words were very remarkable. "As for tonnage and poundage, it is a thing I cannot want, and was never intended by you to ask, nor meant by me, I am sure, to grant. To conclude, I command you all that are here to take notice of what I have spoken at this time to be the true intent and meaning of what I granted you in your petition; but especially you, my lords, the judges, for to you only, under me, belongs the interpretation of laws."2 Parliament was then prorogued to the 20th of the following October. The patriot leaders separated, it may be supposed, with many gloomy forebodings. New miseries and oppressions were about to visit the people. Yet had this immortal session strengthened the people's hearts for endurance, no less than it had sharpened their powers for resistance. The patriots had no cause to separate with any distrust of each other. 1 Rushworth, vol. i. p. 613. 2 The reader, coupling this with Charles's previous consultation with the udges, will readily understand its significancy. Eliot went immediately into Cornwall. I am fortunately enabled to follow him there. Among the manuscripts of sir Robert Cotton I have found a letter written to that learned antiquary some few days after his arrival. It is in many points of view interesting. It is a happy specimen of Eliot's style; and it proves, if such proof were wanting, that this great statesman had embraced the public cause with the deep fervour of a private passion. "How acceptable your letters are," he writes, "and with what advantage they now come, I need not tell you; when, besides the memorie of my owne losses (which can have no reparation like the assurance of your favour), I but acknowledge the ignorance of these partes, almoste as much divided from reason and intelligence as our island from the world. That the session is ended we are gladd, because to our understandinges it implies a concurrence in the generall, and intimates a contynuance of the parliament, - having not the notion of particulars by which we mighte compose ourselves to better judgment. The souldier, the mariner, the shipps, the seas, the horse, the foot, are to us no more than the stories of the poetts, either as thinges fabulous or unnecessarie, entertained now only for discourse or wonder, not with the apprehension of the least feare or doubte! Denmarke and the Sound are taken rather for wordes than meaninges; and the greatnesse and ambition of Austria or Spain are to us a mere chimera. Rochell and Dunkirk are all one. What friends we have lost or what enemies we have gained (more than that enemie which we have bredd ourselves) is not soe much to us as the night shower or sunneshine! nor can we thinke of anie thinge that is not present with us. What they doe in Suffolk with their sojorners wee care not, while there are none billeted on us; and it is indifferent to our reasons, in the contestations which they have, whether the straunger or the countryman prevaile. Onlie one thing gives us some remembraunce of our neighbours, which is the greate resorte of Irish dailie comminge over, whoo, though, they begg of us, wee doubte maie take from others, and in the end give us an ill recompense for our charitie. This is a bad character, I confesse, which I give you of my country, but such as it deserves. You onlie have power to make it appeare better, by the honor of your letters, which come nowhere without happinesse, and are a satisfaction for all wantes to me. Your affectionate servant, John Eliot." 1 Stirring events, however, soon reached Eliot in his retirement, such as must have moved even those stagnant waters, which he describes so well. The " self-bred " enemy of England was no more - Buckingham had fallen by the hand of an assassin. 2 But the service of despotism which the king had lost promised to be replaced by a more dangerous, because a more able, counsellor. Wentworth had gone over to the court. 3 Weston, a creature of the late duke's, had been created lord treasurer. Other changes followed. Laud was made bishop of London, and, with Laud's elevation, arminianism reared its head formidably. 2 Arminian prelates were the favourites of the court; the royal favour shone exclusively on arminian clergymen; and Montague, obnoxious as he had proved himself by the arminian tendency of his works, was raised to the bishopric of Chester. On this subject Eliot felt strongly. He had already from his place in the house of commons denounced the tendency of those arminian doctrines, whose essential principle he had justly described to be that of claiming for the king, as absolute head of the church, a power resembling the pope's infallibility, an independent state supremacy - a power over the liberty and property of the subject. His acute perception had already detected in Laud that resolution towards new ceremonies in the protestant church which should raise her out of the apostolic simplicity to a worldly equality with the church of Rome; and in Laud's fervid sincerity on this point he saw the deepest source of danger. It was even now indeed in action, for further news soon arrived that Charles, as supreme governor of the church, had published an authorised edition of the articles containing the objectionable clause (" the church hath power to decree rites and ceremonies, and hath authority in matters of faith,)" and with an order that no doctrine should be taught that differed from those articles, that all controversies respecting outward policy should be decided by the convocation, and that no man should presume to explain the article respecting justification contrary to its plain meaning, or to take it in any other than the literal and grammatical sense. 1 Nor was this all. The terrors of the Star Chamber and high commission had followed close upon Laud's new powers; and the cases of Burton, Prynne, and Gill, their zeal and their frightful sufferings, afflicted the country. The political application of these doctrines had received, at the same time, a fatal illustration in various flagrant violations of the petition of rights. A copy of the statute itself reached Cornwall, printed by the king's order (a shameless attempt at imposture, 1 Cottonian MSS. c. iii. p. 174. 2 Very interesting notices of this event and the circumstances which followed it, will be found in the third volume of Ellis's Original Letters, pp. 256-282. Second edition. The funeral of the so brilliant duke was the most melancholy winding up of all. The king had designed a very grand one, - "Nevertheless," says Mead to Stuteville, " the last night, at ten of of the clock, his funeral was solemnised in as poor and confused a manner as hath been seen, marching from Wallingford House, over against Whitehall, to Westminster Abbey; there being not much above 100 mourners, who attended upon an empty coffin, borne upon six men's shoulders; the duke's corpse itself being there interred yesterday, as if it had been doubtful the people in their madness might have surprised it. But, to prevent all disorder, the train bands kept a guard on both sides of the way, all along from Wallingford House to Westminster Church, beating up their drums loud, and carrying their pikes and muskets upon their shoulders, as in a march; not trailing them at their heels, as is usual at a mourning. As soon as the coffin was entered the church, they came all away without giving any volley of shot at all. And this was the obscure catastrophe of that great man."-Harl. MSS. 390. 3 Eliot, it may be presumed, was perfectly prepared for this event. The expression I have elsewhere used of Wentworth's having "basely abandoned" the popular cause, is somewhat hasty. I think I shall be able to show that he never in reality was attached to it. Pym appears to have thought so, but Eliot had watched more closely. 4 The memoir of Pym will be a more proper occasion than this for a detailed expression of the exact state of opinions in religion, and the nature of their influence on political questions. |