Page:Cassell's Illustrated History of England vol 3.djvu/563

] some concession, he haughtily replied, " No, I will go on. Concession ruined my father, and I have been only too indulgent."

On Friday, the 15th of June, the first day of term, the bishops were brought from the Tower to the King's Bench, and, pleading not guilty, they were admitted to bail till the 29th of June. During this fortnight the public excitement continued to augment, and from every quarter of the kingdom—even from the presbyterians of Scotland, who had shown themselves such determined opponents of prelacy, and had been such sufferers from it—came messages of sympathy and encouragement to the bishops. On that day immense crowds assembled to receive their blessings and to utter others on their way to Westminster Hall; and this homage was the warmer because the prelates had resisted the demand of Sir Edward Hales, the lieutenant of the Tower, for his fees, this renegade having shown them little courtesy, and who now plainly let them know that, if they came again into his hands, they should lie on the bare stones. Every means had been taken to pack a jury. Sir Samuel Astrey, the clerk of the crown, had been summoned to the palace, and been instructed by James and his great legal adviser, Jeffreys. The judges, too, were of the most base and complying character. They were such as had been raised from the very lowest ranks of the bar for their servile fitness, and because the more eminent lawyers would not stoop to such ignominy. They were Wright, Allibone, a papist; Holloway, and Powell; the attorney-general, Sir Thomas Powis, an inferior lawyer; the solicitor general, Sir William Williams, a man of ability and vigour, but rash, imperious, and unpopular. Hanged against these were the most brilliant lawyers of the time—Sawyer, and Finch, formerly attorney and solicitor-general; Pemberton, formerly chief justice: Maynard, Sir George Treby, who had been recorder of London, and others. The foreman of the jury was Sir Roger Langley. The very men who came forward to defend this cause showed that the undisguised public opinion made them daring. On the other side the judges, and even the blustering Jeffreys, betrayed a sense of terror.

The trial commenced at nine in the morning, and not till seven in the evening did the jury retire to consider their verdict. The lawyers for the prisoners raised great difficulties as to proving the handwriting of the libel, and next in proving its being published in Westminster. The crown lawyers were obliged to bring into court Blathwayt, a clerk of the privy council, for this object; and then the counsel for the prisoners stopped him, and compelled him to state what had passed there betwixt the bishops and the king—much to the chagrin of the government party. Before the publication could be proved, even Sunderland was obliged to be brought into court in a sedan. He was pale, trembled violently from fright and shame of his late apostacy, and gave his evidence with his eyes fixed on the ground. But even then, when the judges came to consider the bishops' petition, they were divided in opinion. Wright and Alibone declared it a libel, and contended for the royal right of the dispensing power; but Holloway conceded that the petition appeared to him perfectly allowable from subjects to their sovereign; and Powell set himself right with the public and wrong with the court—a significant sign—by boldly declaring both the dispensing power and the declaration of indulgence contrary to law.

With such sentiments developing themselves on the bench, there could be little doubt what the verdict would be; yet the jury sate all night, from seven o'clock till six the next morning, before they were fully agreed, there being, however, only three dissentients at first. When the court met at ten o'clock, the crowd, both within and without, was crushing and immense; and when the foreman pronounced the words "Not guilty," Halifax was the first to start up and wave his hat; and such a shout was sent up as was heard as far as Temple Bar. The news flew far and wide; the shouting and rejoicing broke out in every quarter of the town. The whole population, nobility, clergy, people, all seemed gone mad. There were more than sixty lords who had stood out the trial, and now threw money amongst the throngs as they drove away. The people formed a hue down to the water's edge, and knelt as the bishops passed through, asking their blessing. The attorney-general, Williams, was pursued in his coach with curses and groans; and Cartwright, the bishop of Chester, and James's tool of the High Commission, being descried, was hooted at as "That wolf in sheep's clothing!" and, as he was a very fat man, one cried, " Room for the man with the pope in his belly!"

The whole city was in an intoxication of delight. Bonfires were lit, guns fired, the bells rang all night, and the pope in effigy was burnt in several places—one before the door of Whitehall itself; another was kindled before the door of the earl of Salisbury, who had lately gone over to popery; and his servants, in their ill-timed zeal, rushing out to extinguish it, were attacked, and, firing on the people, killed the parish beadle, who was come to attempt what they themselves were attempting—to put out the fire. That morning James had gone to review his troops on Hounslow Heath. He received the news of the acquittal by a special messenger while in lord Feversham's tent. He was greatly enraged, and set out at once for London. Before, however, he was clear of the camp the news had flown amongst the soldiers, and a tremendous cheering startled him. "What noise is that?" demanded James. "Oh!" said the general, "it is nothing but the soldiers shouting because the bishops are acquitted."

"And call you that nothing?" asked James; and added angrily, "but so much the worse for them."

This was an awakener, if anything could have aroused that dense and obstinate mind from its unconsciousness of the coming destruction. The paroxysm of exultation over his defeat spread through the whole nation, and through every class and rank. The old enemies and most hostile of parties shook hands and made common cause over the defeat of popery. Even old Sanoroft, who had persecuted the non-conformists rigorously by the High Commission, and abused them with his pen, now felt softened towards them; and he enjoined the bishops and clergy to regard them as brethren, and remember their kindness in the day of their own trouble.

The very day which pronounced the acquittal of the bishops saw signed and dispatched an invitation from the leading whigs to William of Orange to come over and drive the tyrant from the throne. The whigs had long been contemplating and preparing for this end; they now saw that the crisis was come. The brutal and besotted king had