manded. At the same time the house fell upon | the granting of the subsidies had rendered unnecessary that mode of raising money. It a new project of excise, copied apparently after the Dutch excise, and intended to be levied, as heretofore, without consent of parliament. was confessed by Williamson, clerk of the crown, that this business was actually in the lord-keeper's hands, and under the broad seal. The lords joined the commons in petitioning the king to give a more explicit answer to the Petition of Right. On the same day at four o'clock, Charles, having come down to the House of Lords, commanded the attendance of the commons, and told them that he had thought that the answer already given was full and satisfactory; but that to avoid all ambiguous interpretations, and to show them that there was no doubleness in his meaning, he was willing to pleasure them as well in words as in substance. "Read your petition," said he, "and you shall have such an answer as I am sure will please you." The petition was then read, and the clerk of parliament gave the royal assent in the usual old Norman form-"Soit droit fait comme il est desire." Then Charles further said, "This, I am sure, is full; yet no more than I meant in my first answer. . . . You neither mean nor can hurt my prerogative. I assure you that my maxim is, that the people's liberties strengthen the king's prerogative, and that the king's prerogative is to defend the people's liberties. You see now, how ready I have showed myself to satisfy your demands, so that I have done my part; wherefore, if this parliament hath not a happy conclusion, the sin is yours-I am free of it." Thus, the Petition of Right, which confirmed some of the most sacred clauses of Magna Charta, became one of the statutes of the realm-one of the great victories obtained over the arbitrary principle, not by blood but by money, or the timely withholding of it. Three days after—on the 10th of June-the king, still further to ingratiate himself, and to hurry the supplies, assured the commons, that he was pleased that their Petition of Right, with his answer, should be not only recorded in both houses of parliament, but also in all the courts of Westminster: and, further, that his pleasure was, that it should be printed for his honour and the content and satisfaction of his people; and that the commons should proceed cheerfully to settle business for the good and reformation of the commonweath. On the 12th of June the commons passed the bill for granting the five subsidies; but, at the same time, they desired to have a copy of the new commission of excise, and demanded that it should be cancelled, as being contrary to the letter and spirit of the Petition of Right. Charles made haste to cancel it, taking care, however, to state that this was done because "Let right be done as desired." After obtaining judgment from the lords upon Dr. Mainwaring, and animadverting on the conduct of Laud in licensing the printing and publishing of unconstitutional sermons, and entertaining designs contrary to the independence and conscience of the people, the commons fell again upon Buckingham, and voted a long and formidable remonstrance against him, which was presented to the king by the speaker. On that same day the duke complained to the lords of a member of the lower house who had attributed to him a disrespectful speech3 which he had never made; and he moved that the said member should be called upon to justify himself, and his grace heard against him. The lords, considering this complaint, ordered, "That the duke should be left to himself, to do therein as he thought proper." He protested, upon his honour, that he had never had the words imputed to him so much as in his thoughts, and the lords ordered this protestation to be entered on their journals. The commons took up the tonnage and poundage bill, with the intention of passing it for one year, preceded, however, by a remonstrance against the levying of the duties as Charles had done, without their consent. Before the bill was passed, and while the clerk was reading this remonstrance, they were summoned by the king to attend him in the House of Lords at an early hour. His majesty had come down unexpectedly to the upper house, and neither he nor the lords had had time to robe themselves when the commons appeared with their speaker at their head. However, Charles, unrobed as he was, but seated on the throne, addressed the following speech to the two houses, clinging, as it will be seen, with the most tenacious grasp to his old notions of prerogative:-"It may seem strange," said he, "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. It is known to every one that, a while ago, the House of Commons gave me a remonstrance, how acceptable every man may judge, and, for the merit of it, I will not call that in question, for I am sure no wise man can justify it. Now, since accused of Arminianism, as a damnable and slave-making 2 Neile, Bishop of Winchester, was coupled with Laud, and heresy. 3 Buckingham's speech, delivered at his own table, was, or was said to be, "Tush! it makes no matter what the commons or parliament doth: for, without my leave and authority, they shall not be able to touch the hair of a dog." 4 According to Whitelock, Buckingham also "charged one Melvil, a Scotchman, for saying that he, the duke, intended to put the king upon a war against the commonalty, with the as sistance of Scotland and the like, and that Sir Thomas Overbury had poisoned Prince Henry by his instigation.”."-Memorials. was, to hasten to honour the men marked with the reprobation of the House of Commons. Thus, one of his first acts after this prorogation was to translate the obnoxious Laud from the see of Bath and Wells to that of London. Laud testified his gratitude to the court by drawing up a reply to the remonstrance of the commons. Before Buckingham began his inglorious retreat from Rhé, the city of Rochelle was invested I am truly informed that a second remonstrance | moreover, had another dangerous practice, which is preparing for me, to take away the profit of my tonnage and poundage, one of the chief maintenances of my crown, by alleging I have given away my right thereto by my answer to your petition, this is so prejudicial to me, that I am forced to end this session some few hours before I meant, being not willing to receive any more remonstrances to which I must give a harsh answer. And since I see that even the House of Commons begins already to make false constructions of what I granted in your petition, lest it be worse interpreted in the country, I will now make a declaration concerning the true intent thereof. The profession of both houses, in the time of harmonizing this petition, was no way to trench upon my prerogative, saying they had neither intention nor power to hurt it. Therefore it must needs be conceived that I have granted no new, but only confirmed the ancient liberties of my subjects. Yet, to show the clearness of my intentions, that I neither repent nor mean to recede from anything I have promised you, I do here declare myself, that those things which have been done, whereby many have had some cause to expect the liberties of the subjects to be trenched upon, which, indeed, was the first and true ground of the petition, shall not hereafter be drawn into example for your prejudice; and, from time to time, on the word of a king, ye shall not have the like cause to complain. But 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; for none of the houses of parliament, either joint or separate (what new doctrine so ever may be raised), have any power either to make or declare a law without my consent." It is undeniable that, by this abrupt prorogation, while so great a matter as tonnage and poundage was still unsettled, the king returned upon his late footsteps, and dissipated what little hopes might have arisen from his tardy assent to the Petition of Right.' And it should be borne in mind how frequently Charles pursued the same retrograde course-how constantly he grudged the smallest concessionhow eager he was to avail himself of any subterfuge by which he might escape the bonds of his pledged word. It was thus that the nation, which began by doubting his sincerity, ended in disbelieving his most solemn assurances. Charles, Hallam, Const. Hist. THE GREAT CLOCK TOWER, ROCHELLE.-From a recent print. by a royalist army, under the command of the Duke of Angoulême and Buckingham's quondam friend Marshal Bassompierre. Although he had incited them to take up arms, Buckingham sailed away without throwing into the place the corn and provisions which he had promised, and which THE HOTEL DE VILLE, ROCHELLE.-From a recent print. the Rochellers greatly needed. Cardinal Richelieu, who had set his whole soul upon reducing this last stronghold of the French Protestants, made immense preparations for pressing the 2 Les Larmes de l'Angleterre. siege, and induced Louis XIII. to go thither in person to excite the zeal of his numerous troops. The king soon grew tired of the tedious operations, and returned to Paris: but Richelieu, a better soldier than priest, remained upon the spot, and superintended the construction of the celebrated dike, which was compared to the works raised by Alexander the Great for the reduction of old Tyre. The Rochellers clamoured for succour where succour was due; the English people were much animated by religious sympathy; Charles was disposed to assist them, and Buckingham was burning to retrieve his honours and humble the French court. During the sitting of parliament preparations were made for another expedition, and the vote of the five subsidies might have enabled the king to do more than was really done. But the nation was vexed with rumours of some new intrigues set on foot between the French queen and the English favourite, and they might well doubt the result of any warlike enterprise that was to be conducted by so incapable a commander as Buckingham. The people of London had continued to express their detestation of this man, and their fury had broken out in one dark act, unusual to an English rabble even in the worst times of excitement. On the day on which the House of Commons had pronounced the duke to be the curse of the nation, they barbarously murdered, in the streets of London, Dr. Lambe, his physician, who was supposed to have a principal part in his evil counsels.' They then made a doggrel distich, which passed from mouth to mouth like some of the bloody rhymes of a more recent, but not English revolution: Let Charles and George do what they can, A few days after the murder of Lambe a label was stuck upon a post in Coleman Street, which ran thus: "Who rules the kingdom?--The king. -Who rules the king?-The duke.-Who rules the duke?-The devil."3 On the Wednesday of the following week "his majesty went with the duke (taking him into his own coach, and so riding through the city, as it were to grace him) to Deptford, to see the ships; where, having seen ten fair ships ready rigged for Rochelle, they say he uttered these words to the duke:-"George, there are some that wish that both these and thou mightst both perish. But care not for them. We will both perish together if thou doest." After these unequivocal indications it scarcely required a spirit from the other world to intimate that the life of the favourite was in danger. But the gay and confident Buckingham proceeded to Portsmouth, where he was to embark for Rochelle. Upon Saturday, the 23d of August, "being St. Bartholomew's Eve," writes Howell, "the duke did rise up in a well-disposed humour out of his bed, and cut a caper or two; and being ready, and having been under the barber's hand (where the murderer had thought to have done the deed, for he was leaning upon the window all the while), he went to breakfast attended by a great company of commanders, where Monsieur Soubise came to him, and whispered him in the ear that Rochelle was relieved: the duke seemed to slight the news, which made some think that Soubise went away discontented." This admirable letter-writer is generally well-informed as to passing events, but it should appear that it was Buckingham who attempted to persuade Soubise that Rochelle was relieved. Soubise knew very well that the place was not relieved, but he had other grounds for discontentment; and as no state secrets were kept, as scarcely a servant of the king or of Buckingham had the honesty to conceal what he could make money by disclosing, he probably knew that Secretary Carleton, who had at that moment arrived at Portsmouth with despatches, brought the duke orders to open a correspondence with Richelieu as soon as he should reach Rochelle, and abandon the French Protestants for the sake of an advantageous peace with Louis. Besides Soubise there were many refugees about Buckingham; and they were seen to gesticulate very violently in conversing with the duke. This was only the habit of their country when excited, but to the English it seemed as if they threatened his grace with actual violence. The duke left his chamber to proceed to his carriage, which was in waiting, still followed by the vociferating and gesticulating Frenchmen. In the hall he was stopped by one of his officers, and at that moment he received a knife in his left breast. He drew forth the weapon, staggered, and fell;. and died with the word "Villain!" upon his lips. In the throng and confusion no one saw the hand that struck the mortal blow. Suspicion fell upon the Frenchmen, who were with difficulty saved from the fury of the duke's attendants. Then some ran to keep guard at the gates, some to the ramparts of the town. During this time there was a man who went into the kitchen of the very house where the deed was done, and stood there unnoticed of all. But when a multitude times to an officer in the king's wardrobe, in Windsor Castle, to tell him to go to his son and warn him that, unless he did something to ingratiate himself with the people, or at least to abate the extreme malice they bore him, he would be suffered to live but a short time.-History of the Rebellion. 157 of captains and gentlemen rushed into the house, exclaiming, "Where is the villain?-where is the butcher?"--that man calmly came forth amongst them, saying, "I am the man!-here I am!" They drew their swords, and would have despatched him on the spot but for the timely interference of Secretary Carleton, Sir Thomas Morton, and some others, who took charge of him till a guard of musketeers arrived and conveyed him to the governor's house. The assassin, who might most easily have escaped, had he been so minded, had written a paper to declare his motive, imagining that he must perish on the spot, and leave no one to speak for him. This paper was sewed in the crown of his hat, half within the lining, and was to this effect :"That man is cowardly base, and deserveth not the name of a gentleman or soldier, that is not willing to sacrifice his life for the honour of his God, his king, and his country. Let no man commend me for the doing of it, but rather discommend themselves as the cause of it; for if God had not taken our hearts for our sins, he had not gone so long unpunished.--John Felton." Mr. John Felton, a gentleman by birth and education, was no stranger to many of the men and officers then collected at Portsmouth, amongst whom he had served on former occasions. He had been a lieutenant in a regiment employed the preceding year in the wretched expedition to the isle of Rhé, but he had thrown up his commission in disgust because he saw another man promoted irregularly over his head, and because he was refused payment of his arrears. According to his own account, he was a zealous Protestant; his zeal amounted to fanaticism. | He was now thrust into a dungeon, and horribly laden with irons, and a royal chaplain was sent to commune with him. Felton understood that this clergyman came not merely to offer ghostly comfort, but to search him as to his motives and accomplices, and he said to him-"Sir, I shall be brief-I killed him for the cause of God and my country." The chaplain replied that the surgeons gave hopes of the duke's life. "It is impossible," exclaimed Felton, "I had the power of forty men, assisted by Him that guided my hand." The chaplain failed in his mission, and the enthusiastic assassin was conveyed from Portsmouth to the Tower of London, there to be examined by bishops and lords of the council. On his road he was greeted with prayers and blessings by the common people, who regarded him as a deliverer.2 1 The original letter is in existence, and was a few years since in the possession of Mr. Upcott, of the London Institution. "As Felton the last week passed through Kingston-uponThames, an old woman bestowed this salutation upon him:— "The court," says Clarendon, "was too near Portsmouth, and too many courtiers upon the place, to leave this murder (so barbarous in the nature and circumstances, the like whereof had not been known in England many ages), long concealed from the king. His majesty was at the public prayers of the church, when Sir John Hippesly came into the room with a troubled countenance, and, without any pause in respect to the exercise they were performing, went directly to the king and whispered in his ear what had fallen out. His majesty continued unmoved, and without the least change in his countenance, till prayers were ended, when he suddenly departed to his chamber and threw himself upon his bed, lamenting with much passion, and with abundance of tears, the loss he had of an excellent servant, and the horrid manner in which he had been deprived of him; and he continued in this melancholic discomposure of mind many days. Yet his manner of receiving the news in public, when it was first brought him in the presence of so many (who knew or saw nothing of the passion he expressed upon his retreat), made many men believe that the accident was not very ungrateful, at least, that it was very indifferent to him, as being rid of a servant very ungracious to the people, and the prejudice of whose person exceedingly obstructed all overtures made in parliament for his service. And, upon this observation, persons of all conditions took great license in speaking of the person of the duke, and dissecting all his infirmities, believing they should not thereby incur any displeasure of the king; in which they took very ill measures, for from that time almost to the time of his own death, the king admitted very few into any degree of trust who had ever discovered themselves to be enemies to the duke, or against whom he had manifested a notable prejudice.” 3 For the present Charles took the duke's widow and children under his special protection, paid his debts, which were considerable, styled Buckingham his martyr, and ordered his body to be buried among the illustrious dead in Westminster Abbey. He could not, however, venture upon a grand public funeral. At ten o'clock at night, on the 18th of September, a coffin was borne on men's shoulders, and in a poor and confused manner, from Wallingford House over against Whitehall to Westminster Abbey, there being not much above a hundred mourners, who attended upon an empty coffin, for the duke's corpse itself had been secretly interred the day before, as if it had been doubted the people in their 'Now God bless thee, little David!' quoth she-meaning he had killed Goliath. Some confidently report he shall be reserved till the parliament; but others pray God he be not racked and put to death before."-Meade, in Ellis. 3 Hist. madness might have surprised it. As the empty coffin was carried along by night, to prevent disorder, the train-bands kept guard on both sides of the way, beating their drums to drown the voices of the people, and carrying their pikes and muskets upon their shoulders as in a march, not trailing them as was usual at a mourning.' sure that they should proceed against him in In lieu of Buckingham as commander of the expedition to Rochelle, Charles appointed the Earl of Lindsey, who sailed on the 8th of September with a formidable fleet and army, which did no more than might have been done had they still been commanded by the favourite. At the same time private negotiations were carried on with the French court by means of Mr. Walter Montague, who was then a Catholic in heart, and, as such, averse to the Protestant Rochellers. Lindsey returned with dishonour, and soon after Rochelle, the last bulwark of the Huguenots, was taken by Richelieu. When the siege began For there were 15,000 souls within those walls; when it ended there remained but 4000, and these half dead from famine. Felton, meanwhile, persisted in his assertion that he had no accomplices, and no motive but that of doing good to his country and the cause of the true religion.2 The Earl of Dorset, who, according to some accounts, was accompanied by Bishop Laud, went to the Tower and threatened the prisoner with the rack. "I am ready," said Felton: "yet I must tell you that I will then accuse you, my Lord of Dorset, and no one but yourself." The king was desirous of employing the rack; but the House of Commons had of late given many salutary lessons and warnings, and the judges unanimously declared that the use of torture had been at all times unwarrantable by the laws of England; and upon this declaration Charles declined to use his prerogative. some time Felton gloried in his deed; but at length, "through the continual inculcation of his majesty's chaplains and others of the long robe,” he was induced to consider himself in the light of a foul murderer. It may be doubted, however, whether he ever really regretted that Buckingham was removed. When put upon his trial, he confessed the fact with which he was charged, but added, that he did it not maliciously, but out of an interest for the good of his country. The attorney-general made a speech in aggravation of the offence, showing the high quality of the person killed, who was so dear and near a subject of the king's, so faithful a servant to his majesty, so great a counsellor of state, a general, highadmiral, &c., &c.; and, producing the knife in open court, he compared Felton to Ravaillac, who had murdered Henry IV. of France. Judge Jones asked Felton what he could say why judgment should not be given against him, without impannelling a jury or examining witnesses. Felton answered that he was sorry if he had taken away so faithful a servant to his majesty as Mr. Attorney had described the duke to be, and, lifting up his arm, he said, "This is the instrument which did the fact; I desire it may be first cut off." The judge told him that, by the law, if a man strike in the king's palace, he is to lose his hand, &c.; but it was not his majesty's plea 1 Meade. 2 Meade says that it was reported he affirmed in the Tower, "that his only confederate and setter on was the remonstrance of the parliament, which he then verily thought in his soul and conscience to be a sufficient warrant for what he did upon the duke's person." And Sir Dudley Carleton, who wrote a long account of the assassination to the queen, avers that Felton had said, at Portsmouth, on his first arrest, "that, reading the re Parliament, which had been furA.D. 1629. ther prorogued from the 20th of October to the 20th of January, met when the spirit of Protestantism was embittered by these events. The first acts the commons did were to revive all committees of religion and grievances, and to take into consideration what things the liberty of the subject had been invaded in, against their Petition of Right, since the end of the last session. Mr. Selden soon after reported to the house that the unpalatable speech which his majesty made in the lords the last day of the last session had been entered on the journals along with the Petition of Right, and the proper answer, by his majesty's command. But in fact, to the country Charles had suppressed the proper document, and circulated in its stead a copy of the petition with his first answer to it, which parliament had rejected. The king's printer being sent for to know by what authority he had suppressed the original impression and printed another with unwarrantable additions, answered that he had a warrant for it; and upon sending some of the members to his house, it was found that the clerk of the lords had sent the proper papers; that, during the sitting of parliament, 1500 copies of them had been printed, but very monstrance of the house of parliament, it came into his mind that, in committing the act of killing the duke, he should do his country great good service." 3 Rushworth; State Trials; Carleton and Meade, in Ellis. 4 Montague was second son of the Earl of Manchester. He afterwards publicly recanted, settled in France, was made commendatory abbot of Pontoise, and a member of the council to the queen regent, Anne of Austria. |