History of Civilization in England, Vol. 3 of 3

CHAPTER III
CONDITION OF SCOTLAND DURING THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES

Scarcely had James mounted the throne of England, when he began seriously, and on a large scale, to attempt to subjugate the Scotch Church, which, as he clearly saw, was the principal obstacle that stood between him and despotic power. While he was merely King of Scotland, he made several efforts, which were constantly baffled; but now that he wielded the vast resources of England, the victory seemed easy.²⁷⁴ As early as 1584, he had gained a temporary triumph, by forcing many of the clergy to recognize episcopacy.²⁷⁵ But that institution was so repugnant to their levelling and democratic principles, that nothing could overcome their abhorrence of it;²⁷⁶ and, completely overawing the king, they compelled him to give way, and to retrace his steps. The result was, that, in 1592, an Act of Parliament was passed, which subverted the authority of the bishops, and established Presbyterianism; a scheme based on the idea of equality, and, therefore, suited to the wants of the Scotch Church.²⁷⁷

To this statute, James had assented with the greatest reluctance.²⁷⁸ Indeed, his feeling respecting it was so strong, that he determined, on the first opportunity, to procure its repeal, even if he used force to effect his purpose. The course he adopted, was characteristic both of the man and of the age. In December 1596, one of those popular tumults arose in Edinburgh, which are natural in barbarous times, and which, under ordinary circumstances, would have been quelled, and nothing more thought of it.²⁷⁹ But James availed himself of this, to strike what he deemed a decisive blow. His plan was nothing less than to turn into the capital of his own monarchy, large bodies of armed and licensed banditti, who, by threatening to plunder the city, should oblige the clergy and their flocks to agree to whatever terms he chose to dictate. This magnanimous scheme was well worthy of the mind of James, and it was strictly executed. From the north, he summoned the Highland nobles, and from the south, the border barons, who were to be accompanied by their fierce retainers, – men who lived by pillage, and whose delight it was to imbrue their hands in blood. At the express command of James, these ferocious brigands, on the 1st of January 1597, appeared in the streets of Edinburgh, gloating over the prospect before them, and ready, when their sovereign gave the word, to sack the capital, and raze it to the ground.²⁸⁰ Resistance was hopeless. Whatever the king demanded, was conceded; and James supposed that the time was now come, in which he could firmly establish the authority of the bishops, and, by their aid, control the clergy, and break their refractory spirit.²⁸¹

In this undertaking, three years were consumed. To insure its success, the king, supported by the nobles, relied, not only on force, but also on an artifice, which now seems to have been employed for the first time. This was, to pack the General Assemblies, by inundating them with clergymen drawn from the north of Scotland, where, the old clannish and aristocratic spirit being supreme, the democratic spirit, found in the south, was unknown. Hitherto, these northern ministers had rarely attended at the great meetings of the Church; but James, in 1597, sent Sir Patrick Murray on a special mission to them, urging them to be present, in order that they might vote on his side.²⁸² They, being a very ignorant body, knowing little or nothing of the questions really at issue, and being, moreover, accustomed to a state of society in which men, notwithstanding their lawlessness, paid the most servile obedience to their immediate superiors, were easily worked upon, and induced to do what they were bid. By their help, the crown and the nobles so strengthened their party in the General Assembly, as to obtain in many instances a majority; and innovations were gradually introduced, calculated to destroy the democratic character of the Scotch Church.²⁸³

In 1597, the movement began. From then, until 1600, successive Assemblies sanctioned different changes, all of which were marked by that aristocratic tendency which seemed about to carry everything before it. In 1600, the General Assembly met at Montrose; and government determined on making a final effort to compel the Church to establish an episcopal polity. Andrew Melville, by far the most influential man in the Church, and the leader of the democratic party, had been elected, as usual, a member of the Assembly; but the king, arbitrarily interposing, refused to allow him to take his seat.²⁸⁴ Still, neither by threats, nor by force, nor by promises, could the court carry their point. All that they obtained was, that certain ecclesiastics should be allowed to sit in parliament; but it was ordered that such persons should every year lay their commissions at the feet of the General Assembly, and render an account of their conduct. The Assembly was to have the power of deposing them; and, to keep them in greater subjection, they were forbidden to call themselves bishops, but were to be content with the inferior title of Commissioners of the Church.²⁸⁵

After sustaining this repulse, James seems to have been disheartened; as he made no further effort, though he still laboured underhand at the restoration of episcopacy.²⁸⁶ If he had persevered, it might have cost him his crown. For, his resources were few; he was extremely poor;²⁸⁷ and recent events had shown that the clergy were stronger than he had supposed. When he thought himself most sure of success, they had subjected him to a mortifying defeat; and this was the more remarkable, as it was entirely their own work; they being by this time so completely separated from the nobles, that they could not rely upon even a single member of that powerful body.

While affairs were in this state, and while the liberties of Scotland, of which the Church was the guardian, were trembling in the balance, Elizabeth died, and the King of Scotland became also King of England. James at once determined to employ the resources of his new kingdom to curb his old one. In 1604, that is, only the year after his accession to the English throne, he aimed a deadly blow at the Scotch Church, by attacking the independence of their Assemblies; and, by his own authority, he prorogued the General Assembly of Aberdeen.²⁸⁸ In 1605, he again prorogued it; and, to make his intentions clear, he, this time, refused to fix a day for its future meeting.²⁸⁹ Hereupon, some of the ministers, deputed by presbyteries, took upon themselves to convene it, which they had an undoubted right to do, as the act of the king was manifestly illegal. On the day appointed, they met in the session-house of Aberdeen. They were ordered to disperse. Having, as they conceived, by the mere fact of assembling, sufficiently asserted their privileges, they obeyed. But James, now backed by the power of England, resolved that they should feel the change of his position, and, therefore, of theirs. In consequence of orders which he sent from London, fourteen of the clergy were committed to prison.²⁹⁰ Six of them, who denied the authority of the privy-council, were indicted for high treason. They were at once put upon their trial. They were convicted. And sentence of death was only deferred, that the pleasure of the king might first be taken, as to whether he would not be satisfied with some punishment that fell short of sacrificing the lives of these unhappy men.²⁹¹

Their lives, indeed, were spared; but they were subjected to a close imprisonment, and then condemned to perpetual exile.²⁹² In other parts of the country, similar measures were adopted. Nearly all over Scotland, numbers of the clergy were either imprisoned or forced to fly.²⁹³ Terror and proscription were universal. Such was the panic, that it was generally believed that nothing could prevent the permanent establishment of despotism, unless there were some immediate and providential interference on behalf of the Church and the people.²⁹⁴

Nor can it be denied that there were plausible grounds for these apprehensions. The people had no friends except among the clergy, and the ablest of the clergy were either in prison or in exile.²⁹⁵ To deprive the Church entirely of her leaders, James, in 1606, summoned to London, Melville and seven of his colleagues, under pretence of needing their advice.²⁹⁶ Having got possession of their persons, he detained them in England.²⁹⁷ They were forbidden to return to Scotland; and Melville, who was most feared, was committed to custody. He was then imprisoned in the Tower, where he remained four years, and from which he was only liberated on condition of living abroad, and abandoning altogether his native country.²⁹⁸ The seven ministers who had accompanied him to London were also imprisoned; but, being considered less dangerous than their leader, they, after a time, were allowed to return home. The nephew of Melville was, however, ordered not to travel more than two miles from Newcastle; and his six companions were confined in different parts of Scotland.²⁹⁹

Everything now seemed ripe for the destruction of those ideas of equality of which, in Scotland, the Church was the sole representative. In 1610, a General Assembly was held at Glasgow; and, as the members of it were nominated by the crown,³⁰⁰ whatever the government wished was conceded. By their vote, episcopacy was established, and the authority of the bishops over the ministers was fully recognized.³⁰¹ A little earlier, but in the same year, two courts of High Commission were erected, one at Saint Andrews, and one at Glasgow. To them, all ecclesiastical courts were subordinate. They were armed with such immense power, that they could cite any one they pleased before them, could examine him respecting his religious opinions, could have him excommunicated, and could fine or imprison him, just as they thought proper.³⁰² Finally, and to complete the humiliation of Scotland, the establishment of episcopacy was not considered complete, until an act was performed, which nothing but its being very ignominious, could have saved from being ridiculed as an idle and childish farce. The archbishop of Glasgow, the bishop of Brechin, and the bishop of Galloway, had to travel all the way to London, in order that they might be touched by some English bishops. Incredible as it may appear, it was actually supposed that there was no power in Scotland sufficiently spiritual to turn a Scotchman into a prelate. Therefore it was, that the archbishop of Glasgow and his companions performed what was then an arduous journey to a strange and distant capital, for the sake of receiving some hidden virtue, which, on their return home, they might communicate to their brethren. To the grief and astonishment of their country, these unworthy priests, abandoning the traditions of their native land, and forgetting the proud spirit which animated their fathers, consented to abjure their own independence, to humble themselves before the English Church, and to submit to mummeries, which, in their hearts, they must have despised, but which were now inflicted upon them by their ancient and inveterate foes.³⁰³

We may easily imagine what would be the future conduct of men, who, merely for their own aggrandizement, and to please their prince, could thus renounce the cherished independence of the Scotch Church. They who crouch to those who are above them always trample on those who are below them. Directly they returned to Scotland, they communicated the consecration they had received in England to their fellow-bishops,³⁰⁴ who were of the like mould to themselves, in so far as all of them aided James in his attempt to subjugate the liberties of their native country. Being now properly ordained, their spiritual life was complete; it remained for them to secure the happiness of their temporal life. This they did, by gradually monopolizing all authority, and treating with unsparing severity those who opposed them. The fall triumph of the bishops was reserved for the reign of Charles I., when a number of them obtained seats in the privy-council, where they behaved with such overbearing insolence, that even Clarendon, notwithstanding his notorious partiality for their order, censures their conduct.³⁰⁵ In the time, however, of James I., they carried nearly everything before them.³⁰⁶ They deprived the towns of their privileges, and forced them to receive magistrates of their own choosing.³⁰⁷ They accumulated wealth, and made an ostentatious display of it; which was the more disgraceful, as the country was miserably poor, and their fellow-subjects were starving around them.³⁰⁸ The Lords of the Articles, without whose sanction no measure could be presented to parliament, had been hitherto elected by laymen; but the bishops now effected a change, by virtue of which the right of nomination devolved on themselves.³⁰⁹ Having thus gained possession of the legislature, they obtained the enactment of fresh penalties against their countrymen. Great numbers of the clergy they suspended; others they deprived of their benefices; others they imprisoned. The city of Edinburgh, being opposed to the rites and ceremonies lately introduced, and being, like the rest of the country, hostile to episcopacy, the bishops fell on it also, displaced several of its magistrates, seized some of the principal citizens, and threatened to deprive it of the courts of justice, and of the honour of being the seat of government.³¹⁰

In the midst of all this, and while things seemed to be at their worst, a great reaction was preparing. And the explanation of the reaction is to be found in that vast and pregnant principle, on which I have often insisted, but which our common historians are unable to understand; namely, that a bad government, bad laws, or laws badly administered, are, indeed, extremely injurious at the time, but can produce no permanent mischief; in other words, they may harm a country, but can never ruin it. As long as the people are sound, there is life, and while there is life, there will be reaction. In such case, tyranny provokes rebellion, and despotism causes freedom. But if the people are unsound, all hope is gone, and the nation perishes. In both instances, government is, in the long run, inoperative, and is nowise responsible for the ultimate result. The ruling classes have, for the moment, immense power, which they invariably abuse, except when they are restrained, either by fear, or by shame. The people may inspire them with fear; public opinion may inspire them with shame. But whether or not that shall happen, depends on the spirit of the people, and on the state of opinion. These two circumstances are themselves governed by a long chain of antecedents, stretching back to a period, always very distant, and sometimes so remote as to baffle observation. When the evidence is sufficiently abundant, those antecedents may be generalized; and their generalization conducts us to certain large and powerful causes, on which the whole movement depends. In short periods, the operation of these causes is imperceptible, but in long periods, it is conspicuous and supreme; it colours the national character; it controls the great sweep and average of affairs. In Scotland, as I have already shown, general causes made the people love their clergy, and made the clergy love liberty. As long as these two facts coëxisted, the destiny of the nation was safe. It might be injured, insulted, and trampled upon. It might be harmed in various ways; but the greater the harm, the surer the remedy, because the higher the spirit of the country would be roused. All that was needed was, a little more time, and a little more provocation. We, who, standing at a distance, can contemplate these matters from an elevation, and see how events pressed on and thickened, cannot mistake the regularity of their sequence. Notwithstanding the apparent confusion, all was orderly and methodical. To us, the scheme is revealed. There is the fabric, and it is of one hue, and one make. The pattern is plainly marked, and fortunately it was worked into a texture, whose mighty web was not to be broken, either by the arts, or the violence, of designing men.

It was, therefore, of no avail that tyranny did her utmost. It was of no avail that the throne was occupied by a despotic and unscrupulous king, who was succeeded by another, more despotic and more unscrupulous than himself. It was of no avail that a handful of meddling and intrusive bishops, deriving their consecration from London, and supported by the authority of the English church, took counsel together, and conspired against the liberties of their native land. They played the part of spies and of traitors, but they played it in vain. Yet, everything that government could give them, it gave. They had the law on their side, and they had the right of administering the law. They were legislators, councillors, and judges. They had wealth; they had high-sounding titles; they had all the pomp and attributes for which they bartered their independence, and with which they hoped to dazzle the eyes of the vulgar. Still, they could not turn back the stream; they could not even stop it; they could not prevent it from coming on, and swallowing them up in its course. Before that generation passed away, these little men, big though they were in their own conceit, succumbed, and fell. The hand of the age was upon them, and they were unable to resist. They were struck down, and humbled; they were stripped of their offices, their honours, and their splendour: they lost all which minds like theirs hold most dear. Their fate is an instructive lesson. It is a lesson, both to the rulers of nations, and to those who write the history of nations. To rulers, in so far as it is one of many proofs how little they can do, and how insignificant is the part which they play in the great drama of the world. To historians, the result should be especially instructive, as convincing them that the events on which they concentrate their attention, and which they believe to be of supreme importance, are in reality of trifling value, and, so far from holding the first rank, ought to be made subservient to those large and comprehensive studies, by whose aid alone, we can ascertain the conditions which determine the tread and destiny of nations.

The events that now happened in Scotland, may be quickly told. The patience of the country was well-nigh exhausted, and the day of reckoning was at hand.³¹¹ In 1637, the people began to rise. In the summer of that year, the first great riot broke out in Edinburgh.³¹² The flame quickly spread, and nothing could stop it. By October, the whole nation was up, and an accusation was preferred against the bishops, which was signed by nearly every corporation, and by men of all ranks.³¹³ In November, the Scotch, in defiance of the Crown, organized a system of representation of their own, in which every class had a share.³¹⁴ Early in 1638, the National Covenant was framed; and the eagerness with which it was sworn to, showed that the people were determined, at all hazards, to vindicate their rights.³¹⁵ It was now evident that all was over. During the summer of 1638, preparations were made, and, in the autumn, the storm broke. In November, the first General Assembly seen in Scotland for twenty years, met at Glasgow.³¹⁶ The Marquis of Hamilton, the king's commissioner, ordered the members to separate.³¹⁷ They refused.³¹⁸ Nor would they disband, until they had done the work expected from them.³¹⁹ By their vote, the democratic institution of presbyteries was restored to its old power; the forms of consecration were done away with; the bishops were degraded from their functions, and episcopacy was abolished.³²⁰

Thus, the bishops fell, even more rapidly than they had risen.³²¹ As, however, their fall was merely a part of the democratic movement, matters could not stop there.³²² Scarcely had the Scotch expelled their bishops, when they made war upon their king. In 1639, they took up arms against Charles. In 1640, they invaded England. In 1641, the king, with the hope of appeasing them, visited Scotland, and agreed to most of their demands. It was too late. The people were hot, and a cry for blood had gone forth. War again broke out. The Scotch united with the English, and Charles was every where defeated. As a last chance, he threw himself upon the mercy of his northern subjects,³²³ But his offences were of that rank and luxuriant growth, that it was impossible to forgive them. Indeed, the Scotch, instead of pardoning him, turned him to profit. He had not only trampled on their liberties, he had also put them to an enormous expense. For the injury, he could offer no adequate atonement; but the expense they had incurred, might be defrayed. And as it is an old and recognized maxim, that he who cannot pay with his purse, shall pay with his body, the Scotch saw no reason why they should not derive some advantage from the person of their sovereign, particularly as, hitherto, he had caused them nothing but loss and annoyance. They, therefore, gave him up to the English, and, in return, received a large sum of money, which they claimed as arrears due to them for the cost of making war on him.³²⁴ By this arrangement, both of the contracting parties benefited. The Scotch, being very poor, obtained what they most lacked. The English, a wealthy people, had indeed to pay the money, but they were recompensed by getting hold of their oppressor, against whom they thirsted for revenge; and they took good care never to let him loose, until they had exacted the last penalty of his great and manifold crimes.³²⁵

After the execution of Charles I., the Scotch recognized his son as his successor. But before they would crown the new king, they subjected him to a treatment which hereditary sovereigns are not much accustomed to receive. They made him sign a public declaration, expressing his regret for what had happened, and acknowledging that his father, moved by evil counsels, had unjustly shed the blood of his subjects. He was also obliged to declare, that by these things he felt humbled in spirit. He had, moreover, to apologize for his own errors, which he ascribed partly to his inexperience, and partly to the badness of his education.³²⁶ To evince the sincerity of this confession, and in order that the confession might be generally known, he was commanded to keep a day of fasting and humiliation, in which the whole nation would weep and pray for him, in the hope that he might escape the consequences of the sins committed by his family.³²⁷

The spirit, of which acts like these are but symptoms, continued to animate the Scotch during the rest of the seventeenth century. And fortunately for them it did so. For, the reigns of Charles II. and James II. were but repetitions of the reigns of James I. and Charles I. From 1660 to 1688, Scotland was again subjected to a tyranny, so cruel, and so exhausting, that it would have broken the energy of almost any other nation.³²⁸ The nobles, whose power had been slowly but constantly declining,³²⁹ were unable to resist the English, with whom, indeed, they rather seemed willing to combine, in order that they might have a share in plundering and oppressing their own country.³³⁰ In this, the most unhappy period through which Scotland had passed since the fourteenth century, the government was extremely powerful; the upper classes, crouching before it, thought only of securing their own safety; the judges were so corrupt, that justice, instead of being badly administered, was not administered at all;³³¹ and the parliament, completely overawed, consented to what was termed the recissory act, by which, at a single stroke, all laws were repealed which had been enacted since 1633; it being considered that those twenty-eight years formed an epoch of which the memory should, if possible, be effaced.³³²

But, though the higher ranks ignominiously deserted their post, and destroyed the laws which upheld the liberties of Scotland, the result proved that the liberties themselves were indestructible. This was because the spirit remained, by which the liberties had been won. The nation was sound at the core; and while that was the case, legislators could, indeed, abolish the external manifestations of freedom, but could by no means touch the causes on which the freedom depended. Liberty was prostrate, but yet it lived. And the time would surely come, when a people, who loved it so dearly, would vindicate their rights. The time would come, when, in the words of the great poet of English liberty, the nation would rouse herself like a strong man after sleep, and, shaking her invincible locks, would be as an eagle muing her mighty youth, kindling her undazzled eyes at the midday beam, and purging and unscaling her sight at the heavenly fountain; while the timorous birds of her evil destiny, loving the twilight, should flutter about, amazed at what she meant.

Still, the crisis was sad and dangerous. The people, deserted by every one except their clergy, were ruthlessly plundered, murdered, and hunted, like wild-beasts, from place to place. From the tyranny of the bishops, they had so recently smarted, that they abhorred episcopacy more than ever; and yet that institution was not only forced upon them, but government put at its head Sharp, a cruel and rapacious man, who, in 1661, was raised to the archbishopric of St. Andrews.³³³ He set up a court of ecclesiastical commission, which filled the prisons to overflowing; and when they would hold no more, the victims were transported to Barbadoes, and other unhealthy settlements.³³⁴ The people, being determined not to submit to the dictation of government respecting their religious worship, met together in private houses; and, when that was declared illegal, they fled from their houses to the fields. But there, too, the bishops were upon them.³³⁵ Lauderdale, who, for many years, was at the head of affairs, was greatly influenced by the new prelates, and aided them with the authority of the executive.³³⁶ Under their united auspices, a new contrivance was hit upon; and a body of soldiers, commanded by Turner, a drunken and ferocious soldier, was let loose upon the people.³³⁷ The sufferers, galled to madness, rose in arms. This was made the pretence, in 1667, for fresh military executions, by which some of the fairest parts of western Scotland were devastated, houses burned, men tortured, women ravished.³³⁸ In 1670, an act of parliament was passed, declaring that whoever preached in the fields without permission should be put to death.³³⁹ Some lawyers were found bold enough to defend innocent men, when they were tried for their lives; it was therefore determined to silence them also, and, in 1674, a great part of the Faculty of Advocates was expelled from Edinburgh.³⁴⁰ In 1678, by the express command of government, the Highlanders were brought down from their mountains, and, during three months, were encouraged to slay, plunder, and burn at their pleasure, the inhabitants of the most populous and industrious parts of Scotland. For centuries, the bitterest animosity had existed between the Highlanders and Lowlanders; and now these savage mountaineers were called from their homes, that they might take full revenge. And well they glutted their ire. During three months, they enjoyed every license. Eight thousand³⁴¹ armed Highlanders, invited by the English government, and receiving beforehand an indemnity for every excess,³⁴² were left to work their will upon the towns and villages of Western Scotland. They spared neither age nor sex. They deprived the people of their property; they even stripped them of their clothes, and sent them out naked to die in the fields. Upon many, they inflicted the most horrible tortures. Children, torn from their mothers, were foully abused; while both mothers and daughters were subjected to a fate, compared to which death would have been a joyful alternative.³⁴³

It was in this way, that the English government sought to break the spirit, and to change the opinions, of the Scotch people. The nobles looked on in silence, and, so far from resisting, had not even the courage to remonstrate. The parliament was equally servile, and sanctioned whatever the government demanded. Still, the people were firm. Their clergy, drawn from the middle classes, clung to them; they clung to their clergy, and both were unchanged. The bishops were hated as allies of the government, and were with reason regarded as public enemies. They were known to have favoured, and often to have suggested, the atrocities which had been committed;³⁴⁴ and they were so pleased with the punishment inflicted upon their opponents, that no one was surprised, when, a few years later, they, in an address to James II., the most cruel of all the Stuarts, declared that he was the darling of heaven, and hoped that God might give him the hearts of his subjects, and the necks of his enemies.³⁴⁵

The character of the prince, whom the bishops thus delighted to honour, is now well understood. Horrible as were the crimes which had been perpetrated, they were surpassed by what occurred, when he, in 1680, assumed the direction of affairs.³⁴⁶ He had worked himself to that pitch of iniquity, as to derive actual enjoyment from witnessing the agonies of his fellow-creatures. This is an abyss of wickedness, into which even the most corrupt natures rarely fall. There have been, and always will be, many men who care nothing for human suffering, and who will inflict any amount of pain, in order to gain certain ends. But to take delight in the spectacle, is a peculiar and hideous abomination. James, however, was so dead to shame, that he did not care even to conceal his horrible tastes. Whenever torture was inflicted, he was sure to be present, feasting his eyes, and revelling with a fiendish joy.³⁴⁷ It makes our flesh creep to think that such a man should have been the ruler of millions. But what shall we say to the Scotch bishops, who applauded him, of whose conduct they were daily witnesses? Where can we find language strong enough to stigmatize those recreant priests, who, having passed years in attempting to subjugate the liberties of their country, did, towards the close of their career, and just before their final fall, band together, and employ their united authority, as ministers of a holy and peaceful religion, to stamp with public approval, a prince, whose malignant cruelty made him loathed by his contemporaries, and whose revolting predilections, unless we ascribe them to a diseased brain, are not only a slur upon the age which tolerated them, but a disgrace to the higher instincts of our common nature?