History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3. Henry Buckley
plans. The exercise of private judgment, both in religion and in politics, had become so habitual, that these princes were unable to subjugate it to their will. And as Charles I., with inconceivable blindness, and with an obstinacy even greater than that of his father, persisted in adopting in their worst forms the superannuated theories of protection, and attempted to enforce a scheme of government which men from their increasing independence were determined to reject, there inevitably arose that memorable collision which is well termed The Great Rebellion of England.351 The analogy between this and the Protestant Reformation, I have already noticed; but what we have now to consider, and what, in the next chapter, I will endeavour to trace, is the nature of the difference between our Rebellion, and those contemporary wars of the Fronde, to which it was in some respects very similar.
CHAPTER III
THE ENERGY OF THE PROTECTIVE SPIRIT IN FRANCE EXPLAINS THE FAILURE OF THE FRONDE. COMPARISON BETWEEN THE FRONDE AND THE CONTEMPORARY ENGLISH REBELLION
The object of the last chapter was to enquire into the origin of the protective spirit. From the evidence there collected, it appears that this spirit was first organized into a distinct secular form at the close of the dark ages; but that, owing to circumstances which then arose, it was, from the beginning, much less powerful in England than in France. It has likewise appeared that, in our country, it continued to lose ground; while in France, it early in the fourteenth century assumed a new shape, and gave rise to a centralizing movement, manifested not only in the civil and political institutions, but also in the social and literary habits of the French nation. Thus far we seem to have cleared the way for a proper understanding of the history of the two countries; and I now purpose to follow this up a little further, and point out how this difference explains the discrepancy between the civil wars of England, and those which at the same time broke out in France.
Among the obvious circumstances connected with the Great English Rebellion, the most remarkable is, that it was a war of classes as well as of factions. From the beginning of the contest, the yeomanry and traders adhered to the parliament;352 the nobles and the clergy rallied round the throne.353 And the name given to the two parties, of Roundheads354 and Cavaliers,355 proves that the true nature of this opposition was generally known. It proves that men were aware that a question was at issue, upon which England was divided, not so much by the particular interests of individuals, as by the general interests of the classes to which those individuals belonged.
But in the history of the French rebellion, there is no trace of so large a division. The objects of the war were in both countries precisely the same: the machinery by which those objects were attained was very different. The Fronde was like our Rebellion, insomuch that it was a struggle of the parliament against the crown; an attempt to secure liberty, and raise up a barrier against the despotism of government.356 So far, and so long, as we merely take a view of political objects, the parallel is complete. But the social and intellectual antecedents of the French being very different from those of the English, it necessarily followed that the shape which the rebellion took should likewise be different, even though the motives were the same. If we examine this divergence a little nearer, we shall find that it is connected with the circumstance I have already noticed – namely, that in England a war for liberty was accompanied by a war of classes, while in France there was no war of classes at all. From this it resulted, that in France the rebellion, being merely political, and not, as with us, also social, took less hold of the public mind: it was unaccompanied by those feelings of insubordination, in the absence of which freedom has always been impossible; and, striking no root into the national character, it could not save the country from that servile state into which, a few years later, it, under the government of Louis XIV. rapidly fell.
That our Great Rebellion was, in its external form, a war of classes, is one of those palpable facts which lie on the surface of history. At first, the parliament357 did indeed attempt to draw over to their side some of the nobles; and in this they for a time succeeded. But as the struggle advanced, the futility of this policy became evident. In the natural order of the great movement, the nobles grew more loyal;358 the parliament grew more democratic.359 And when it was clearly seen that both parties were determined either to conquer or to die, this antagonism of classes was too clearly marked to be misunderstood; the perception which each had of its own interests being sharpened by the magnitude of the stake for which they contended.
For, without burdening this Introduction with what may be read in our common histories, it will be sufficient to remind the reader of a few of the conspicuous events of that time. Just before the war began, the Earl of Essex was appointed general of the parliamentary forces, with the Earl of Bedford as his lieutenant. A commission to raise troops was likewise given to the Earl of Manchester,360 the only man of high rank against whom Charles had displayed open enmity.361 Notwithstanding these marks of confidence, the nobles, in whom parliament was at first disposed to trust, could not avoid showing the old leaven of their order.362 The Earl of Essex so conducted himself, as to inspire the popular party with the greatest apprehensions of his treachery;363 and when the defence of London was intrusted to Waller, he so obstinately refused to enter the name of that able officer in the commission, that the Commons were obliged to insert it by virtue of their own authority, and in spite of their own general.364 The Earl of Bedford, though he had received a military command, did not hesitate to abandon those who conferred it. This apostate noble fled from Westminster to Oxford: but finding that the king, who never forgave his enemies, did not receive him with the favour he expected, he returned to London; where, though he was allowed to remain in safety, it could not be supposed that he should again experience the confidence of parliament.365
Such examples as these were not likely to lessen the distrust which both parties felt for each other. It soon became evident that a war of classes was unavoidable, and that the rebellion of the parliament against the king must be reinforced by a rebellion of the people against the nobles.366 To this the popular party, whatever may have been their first intention, now willingly agreed. In 1645 they enacted a law, by which not only the Earl of Essex and the Earl of Manchester lost their command, but all members of either house were made incapable of military service.367 And, only a week after the execution of the king, they formally took away the legislative power of the peers; putting at the same time on record their memorable opinion, that the House of Lords is ‘useless, dangerous, and ought to be abolished.’368
But we may find proofs still more convincing of the true character of the English rebellion, if we consider who those were by whom it was accomplished. This will show us the democratic nature of a movement which lawyers and antiquaries have vainly attempted to shelter under the form of constitutional precedent. Our great rebellion was the work, not of men who looked behind, but of men who looked before. To attempt to trace it to personal and temporary causes; to ascribe this unparalleled outbreak to a dispute respecting ship-money, or to a quarrel about the privileges of parliament, can only suit the habits of those historians who see no further than the preamble of a statute, or the decision of a judge. Such writers forget that the trial of Hampden, and the impeachment of the five members, could have produced no effect on the country, unless the people had already been prepared, and unless the spirit of inquiry and insubordination had so increased the discontents of men, as to put them in a state, where, the train being laid, the slightest spark sufficed to kindle a conflagration.
The truth is, that the rebellion was an outbreak of the democratic spirit.
351
Clarendon (
352
‘From the beginning it may be said that the yeomanry and trading classes of towns were generally hostile to the king's side, even in those counties which were in his military occupation; except in a few, such as Cornwall, Worcester, Salop, and most of Wales, where the prevailing sentiment was chiefly royalist.’
353
On this division of classes, which, notwithstanding a few exceptions, is undoubtedly true as a general fact, compare
354
Lord Clarendon says, in his grand style, ‘the rabble contemned and despised under the name of roundheads.’
355
Just before the battle of Edgehill, in 1642, Charles said to his troops, ‘You are called cavaliers in a reproachful signification.’ See the king's speech, in
356
M. Saint-Aulaire (
357
I use the word ‘parliament’ in the sense given to it by writers of that time, and not in the legal sense.
358
In May 1642, there remained at Westminster forty-two peers,
359
These increasing democratic tendencies are most clearly indicated in Walker's curious work,
360
This was after the appointments of Essex and Bedford, and was in 1643.
361
‘When the king attempted to arrest the five members, Manchester, at that time Lord Kymbolton, was the only peer whom he impeached. This circumstance endeared Kymbolton to the party; his own safety bound him more closely to its interests.’
362
Mr. Carlyle has made some very characteristic, but very just, observations on the ‘high Essexes and Manchesters of limited notions and large estates.’
363
364
365
Compare
366
Dr. Bates, who had been physician to Cromwell, intimates that this was foreseen from the beginning. He says, that the popular party offered command to some of the nobles, ‘not that they had any respect for the lords, whom shortly they intended to turn out and to level with the commoners, but that they might poison them with their own venom, and rise to greater authority by drawing more over to their side.’
367
This was the ‘Self-denying Ordinance,’ which was introduced in December, 1644; but, owing to the resistance of the peers, was not carried until the subsequent April.
368
On this great Epoch in the history of England, see