ring them from all further discussion of these momentous articles that the prelates, emboldened by her royal protec tion, had assumed a decisive power in all questions of religion. and required that every one should implicitly submit his faith to their arbitrary determinations: that the love which he bore his sovereign forbade him to be silent under such abuses, or to sacrifice, on this important occasion, his duty to servile flattery and complaisance; and that, as no earthly creature was exempt from fault, so neither was the queen herself; but, in imposing this servitude on her faithful commons, had committed a great and even dangerous fault against herself and the whole commonwealth.* It is easy to observe from this speech, that, in this dawn of liberty, the parliamentary style was still crude and unformed; and that the proper decorum of attacking ministers and counsellors, without interesting the honor of the crown, or mentioning the person of the sovereign, was not yet entirely established. The commons expressed great displeasure at this unusual license; they sequestered Wentworth from the house, and committed him prisoner to the serjeant at arms. They even ordered him to be examined by a committee, consisting of all those members who were also members of the privy council; and a report to be next day made to the house. This committee met in the star chamber, and, wearing the aspect of that arbitrary court, summoned Wentworth to appear before them, and answer for his behavior. But though the commons had discovered so little delicacy or precaution in thus confounding their own authority with that of the star chamber, Wentworth better understood the principles of liberty, and refused to give these counsellors any account of his conduct in parliament, till he were satisfied that they acted, not as members of the privy council, but as a committee of the house. He justified his liberty of speech by pleading the rigor and hardship of the queen's messages; and notwithstanding that the committee showed him, by instances in other reigns, that the practice of sending such messages was not unprecedented, he would not agree to express any sorrow or repentance. The issue of the affair was, that after a month's confinement, the queen sent to the commons, informing them, that, from her special grace and favor, she hd restored him to his liberty and to his place in the house.‡ * D'Ewes, p. 236, 237, etc. † D'Ewes, p. 241. By this seeming lenity, she indirectly retained the power which she had assumed, of imprisoning the members and obliging them to answer before her for their conduct in parliament. And Sir Walter Mildmay endeavored to make the house sensible of her majesty's goodness, in so gently remit-, ting the indignation which she might justly conceive at the temerity of their member; but he informed them, that they had not the liberty of speaking what and of whom they pleased; and that indiscreet freedoms used in that house, had, both in the present and foregoing ages, met with a proper chastisement. He warned them, therefore, not to abuse further the queen's clemency, lest she be constrained, contrary to her inclination, to turn an unsuccessful lenity into a necessary severity.* The behavior of the two houses was, in every other respect, equally tame and submissive. Instead of a bill, which was at first introduced,† for the reformation of the church, they were contented to present a petition to her majesty for that purpose; and when she told them, that she would give orders to her bishops to amend all abuses, and, if they were negligent, she would herself, by her supreme power and authority over the church, give such redress as would entirely satisfy the nation, the parliament willingly acquiesced in this sovereign and peremptory decision.‡ Though the commons showed so little spirit in opposing the authority of the crown, they maintained, this session, their dignity against an encroachment of the peers, and would not agree to a conference which, they thought, was demanded of them in an irregular manner. They acknowledged, however, with all humbleness, (such is their expression,) the supe riority of the lords: they only refused to give that house any reason for their proceedings; and asserted, that where they altered a bill sent them by the peers, it belonged to them to desire a conference, not to the upper house to require it.S The commons granted an aid of one subsidy and two fifteenths. Mildmay, in order to satisfy the house concerning the reasonableness of this grant, entered into a detail of the queen's past expenses in supporting the government, and of the increasing charges of the crown, from the daily increase * D'Ewes, p. 259. + D'Ewes, p. 252. in the price of all commodities. He did not, however, forget to admonish them, that they were to regard this detail as the pure effect of the queen's condescension, since she was not bound to give them any account how she employed her treasure.* * D'Ewes, p. 246, CHAPTER XLI. ELIZABETH. [1580.] THE greatest and most absolute security that Elizabeth enjoyed during her whole reign, never exempted her from vigilance and attention; but the scene began now to be more overcast, and dangers gradually multiplied on her from more than one quarter. The earl of Morton had hitherto retained Scotland in strict alliance with the queen, and had also restored domestic tranquillity to that kingdom; but it was not to be expected that the factitious and legal authority of a regent would long maintain itself in a country unacquainted with law and order; where even the natural dominion of hereditary princes so often met with opposition and control. The nobility began anew to break into factions; the people were disgusted with some instances of Morton's avarice; and the clergy, who complained of further encroachments on their narrow revenue, joined and increased the discontent of the other orders. The regent was sensible of his dangerous situation; and having dropped some peevish expressions, as if he were willing or desirous to resign, the noblemen of the opposite party, favorites of the young king, laid hold of this concession, and required that demission which he seemed so frankly to offer them. James was at this time but eleven years of age; yet Morton, having secured himself, as he imagined, by a general pardon, resigned his authority into the hands of the king, who pretended to conduct in his own name the administration of the kingdom. The regent retired from the government, and seemed to employ himself entirely in the care of his domestic affairs; but either tired with this tranquillity, which appeared insipid after the agitations of ambition, or thinking it time to throw off dissimulation, he came again to court, acquired an ascendant in the council, and though he resumed not the title of regent, governed with the same authority as before. The opposite party, after holding separate conventions, took to arms, on pretence of delivering their prince from captivity; and restoring him to the free exercise of his government: Queen Elizabeth interposed by her ambassador, Sir Robert Bowes, and mediated an agreement between the factions: Morton kept possession of the government; but his enemies were numerous and vigilant, and his authority seemed to become every day more pre carious. The count d'Aubigney, of the house of Lenox, cousin german to the king's father, had been born and educated in France; and being a young man of good address and a sweet disposition, he appeared to the duke of Guise a proper instrument for detaching James from the English interest, and connecting him with his mother and her relations. He no sooner appeared at Stirling, where James resided, than he acquired. the affections of the young monarch; and joining his interests with those of James Stuart, of the house of Ochiltree, a man of profligate manners, who had acquired the king's favor, he employed himself, under the appearance of play and amusement, in instilling into the tender mind of the prince new sentiments of politics and government. He represented to him the injustice which had been done to Mary in her deposition, and made him entertain thoughts either of resigning the crown into her hands, or of associating her with him in the administration.* Elizabeth, alarmed at the danger which might ensue from the prevalence of this interest in Scotland, sent anew Sir Robert Bowes to Stirling; and accusing D'Aubigney, now created earl of Lenox, of an attachment to the French, warned James against entertaining such suspicious and dangerous connections. The king excused himself by Sir Alexander Hume, his ambassador; and Lenox, finding that the queen had openly declared against him, was further confirmed in his intention of overturning the English interest, and particularly of ruining Morton, who was regarded as the head of it. That nobleman was arrested in council, accused as an accomplice in the late king's murder, committed to prison, brought to trial, and condemned to suffer as a traitor. He confessed that Bothwell had communicated to him the design, had pleaded Mary's consent, and had desired his concurrence; but he denied that he himself had ever expressed any approbation of the crime; and in excuse for his concealing it, he alleged the danger of revealing the secret, * Digges, p. 412, 428. Melvil, p. 130. + Spotswood, p. 309. |