D.

JAMES II.

1685.

bred a papist by his mother, and was strongly bigoted to his principles.

He went openly to mass with all the ensigns of his dignity, and even sent one Caryl as his agent to Rome, to make submissions to the pope, and to pave the way for the re-admission of England into the bosom of the catholic church.

A conspiracy, set on foot by the Duke of Monmouth, was the first disturbance in his reign. He had, since his last conspiracy, been pardoned, but was ordered to depart the kingdom, and had retired to Holland. Being dismissed from thence by the Prince of Orange, upon James's accession, he went to Brussels, where, finding himself still pursued by the king's severity, he resolved to retaliate, and make an attempt upon the kingdom. He had ever been the darling of the people; and some averred that Charles had married his mother, and owned Monmouth's legitimacy at his death. The Duke of Argyle seconded his views in Scotland, and they formed the scheme of a double insurrection; so that while Monmouth should attempt to make a rising in the West, Argyle was also to try his endeavours in the North.

A. D. 1665.

Argyle was the first who landed in Scotland, where he published his manifestoes, put himself at the head f two thousand five hundred men, and strove to influence the

people in his cause. But a formidable body of the king's forces coming against him, his army fell away; and he himself, after being wounded in attempting to escape, was taken prisoner by a peasant, who found him standing up to his neck in a pool of water. He was from thence carried to Edinburgh, where, after enduring many indignities with a gallant spirit, he was publicly executed.

Meanwhile, Monmouth was by this time landed in Dorsetshire, with scarce a hundred followers. However, his name was so popular, and so great was the hatred of the people both for the person and religion of James, that in four days he had assembled a body of above two thousand men.

Being advanced to Taunton, his numbers had increased to six thousand men; and he was obliged every day, for want of arms, to dismiss numbers who crowded to his standard. He entered Bridgewater, Wells, and Frome, and was proclaimed in all those places; but he lost the hour of action in receiving and claiming these empty honours.

The king was not a little alarmed at his invasion, but still more at the success of an undertaking that at first appeared desperate. Six regiments of British troops were recalled from Holland; and a body of regulars, to the number of three thousand men, were sent, under the command of the Earl of Feversham and Churchill, to check the progress of the rebels. They took post at Sedgemore, a village in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater, and were joined by the militia of the country in considerable numbers. It was there that Monmouth resolved, by a desperate effort, to lose his life or gain the kingdom. The negligent disposition made by Feversham, invited him to the attack; and his faithful followers shewed what courage and principle could do against discipline and numbers. They drove the royal infantry from their ground, and were upon the point of gaining the victory, when the misconduct of Monmouth, and the cowardice of Lord Grey, who commanded the horse, brought all to ruin. This nobleman fled at the first onset; and the rebels, being charged in flank by the victorious army, gave way after a three hours contest. About three hundred were killed in the engagement, and a thousand in the pursuit; and thus ended an enterprise rashly begun, and more feebly conducted.

Monmouth fled from the field of battle above twenty miles, till his horse sunk under him. He then alighted, and changing clothes with a shepherd, fled on foot, attended by a German count, who had accompanied him from Holland. Being quite

exhausted with hunger and fatigue, they both lay down in a field, and covered themselves with fern. The shepherd being found in Monmouth's clothes by the pursuers, increased the diligence of the search; and, by the means of blood-hounds, he was detected in this miserable situation, with raw peas in his pocket, which he had gathered in the fields to sustain life. He wrote the most submissive letters to the king; and that monarch, willing to feast his eyes with the miseries of a fallen enemy, gave him an audience. At this interview the duke fell upon his knees, and begged his life in the most abject terms. He even signed a paper, offered him by the king, declaring his own illegitimacy; and then the stern tyrant assured him that his crime was of such a nature as could not be pardoned. The duke, perceiving that he had nothing to hope from the clemency of his uncle, recovered his spirits, rose up, and retired with an air of disdain. He was followed to the scaffold with great compassion from the populace. He warned the executioner not to fall into the same error which he had committed in beheading Russel, where it had been necessary to redouble the blow. But this only increased the severity of the punishment: the man was seized with an universal trepidation, and he struck a feeble blow, upon which the duke raised his head from the block, as if to reproach him; he gently laid down his head a second time, and the executioner struck him again and again to no purpose. He at last threw the axe down; but the sheriff compelled him to resume the attempt, and, at two blows more, the head was severed from the body. Such was the end of James, Duke of Monmouth, the darling of the English people. He was brave, sincere, and good-natured; but open to flattery, and by that seduced into an enterprise which exceeded his capacity.

But it had been well for the insurgents, and fortunate for the king, if the blood that was now shed had been thought a sufficient expiation for the late offence. The victorious army behaved with the most savage cruelty to the prisoners taken after the battle. Feversham, immediately after the victory, hanged up above twenty prisoners.

The military severities of the commanders were still inferior to the legal slaughters committed by Judge Jefferies, who was sent down to try the delinquents. The natural brutality of this man's temper was inflamed by continual intoxication. He told the prisoners, that if they would save him the trouble of trying them, they might expect some favour; otherwise he would execute the law upon them with the utmost severity.

Many poor wretches were thus allured into a confession, and found that it only hastened their destruction. No less than eighty were executed at Dorchester; and, on the whole, at Exeter, Taunton, and Wells, two hundred and fifty-one are computed to have fallen by the hands of justice.

In ecclesiastical matters, James proceeded with still greater injustice. Among those who distinguished themselves against popery, was one Dr. Sharpe, a clergyman of London, who declaimed with just severity against those who had changed their religion, by such arguments as the popish missionaries were able to produce. This being supposed to reflect upon the king, gave great offence at court; and positive orders were given to the Bishop of London to suspend Sharpe, till his majesty's pleasure should be farther known. The bishop refused to comply; and the king resolved to punish the bishop himself for disobedience.

To effect his design, an ccclesiastical commission was issued out, by which, seven commissioners were invested with a full and unlimited authority over the whole church of England, Before this tribunal the bishop was summoned; and not only he, but Sharpe, the preacher, were suspended.

The next step was to allow a liberty of conscience to all sectaries and he was taught to believe, that the truth of the catholic religion would then, upon a fair trial, gain the victory. He therefore issued a declaration of general indulgence, and asserted that non-conformity to the established religion was no longer penal. D

To complete his work, he publicly sent the Earl of Castlemain, ambassador extraordinary to Rome, in order to express his obedience to the pope, and to reconcile his kingdoms to the catholic communion. Never was there so much contempt thrown upon an embassy that was so boldly undertaken. court of Rome expected but little success from measures so blindly conducted. They were sensible that the king was openly striking at those laws and opinions which it was his business, to undermine in silence and security.

The

The jesuits soon after were permitted to erect colleges in different parts of the kingdom; they exercised the catholic worship in the most public manner; and four catholic bishops, consecrated in the king's chapel, were sent through the kingdom to exercise their episcopal functions, under the title of apostolic vicars.

Father Francis, a Benedictine monk, was recommended by the king to the university of Cambridge, for the degree of

master of arts. But his religion was a stumbling-block which the university could not get over; and they presented a petition, beseeching the king to recall his mandate. Their petition was disregarded, their deputies denied a hearing; the vice-chancellor himself was summoned to appear before the high-commission court, and deprived of his office; yet the university persisted, and Father Francis was refused.

The place of president of Magdalen college, one of the richest foundations in Europe, being vacant, the king sent a mandate in favour of one Farmer, a new convert to popery, and a man of a bad character in other respects. The fellows

of the college made very submissive applications to the king for recalling his mandate; they refused admitting the candidate; and James finding them resolute in the defence of their privileges, rejected them all except two.

A. D. 1688.

A second declaration for liberty of conscience was published, almost in the same terms with the former; but with this peculiar injunction, that all divines should read it after service in their churches. The clergy were known universally to disapprove of these measures, and they were now resolved to disobey an order dictated by the most bigoted motives. They were determined to trust their cause to the favour of the people, and that universal jealousy which prevailed against the encroachment of the crown. The first champions on this service of danger, were Lloyde, bishop of St. Asaph; Ken, of Bath and Wells; Turner, of Ely; Lake, of Chichester; White, of Peterborough; and Trelawney, of Bristol: these, together with Sancroft, the primate, concerted an address, in the form of a petition to the king, which, with the warmest expressions of zeal and submission, remonstrated that they could not read his declaration consistent with their consciences, or the respect they owed the protestant religion.

The king, in a fury, summoned the bishops before the council, and there questioned them whether they would acknowledge their petition. They for some time declined giving an answer; but being urged by the chancellor, they at last owned it. On their refusal to give bail, an order was immediately drawn for their commitment to the Tower, and the crownlawyers received directions to prosecute them for à seditious libel.

The twenty-ninth day of June was fixed for their trial: and their return was more splendidly attended than their imprisonment. The cause was looked upon as involving the fate of the nation; and future freedom, or future slavery, awaited the