Part 2

The King was in more than ordinary Confusion with the reading this Paper, and knew not well what to think of the General, in whose absolute Power He now was. However He resolved in the Entrance upon his Government not to consent to such Impositions, which might prove perpetual Fetters and Chains upon him ever after. He gave the Paper therefore to the Chancellor, and bade him "take the first Opportunity to discourse the Matter with the General" (whom He had not yet saluted) "or rather with Mr _Morrice_ his most intimate Friend," whom He had newly presented to the King, and "with Both whom He presumed He would shortly be acquainted," though for the present both were equally unknown to him. Shortly after, when mutual visits had passed between them, and such Professions as naturally are made between Persons who were like to have much to do with each other; and Mr _Morrice_ being in private with him, the Chancellor told him "how much the King was surprised with the Paper He had received from the General, which at least recommended (and which would have always great Authority with him) some such Persons to his Trust, in whom He could not yet, till They were better known to him, repose any Confidence." And thereupon He read many of their Names, and said, "that if such Men were made Privy Counsellors, it would either be imputed to the King's own Election, which would cause a very ill Measure to be taken of his Majesty's Nature and Judgement; or (which more probably would be the Case) to the Inclination and Power of the General, which would be attended with as ill Effects." Mr _Morrice_ seemed much troubled at the Apprehension, and said, "the Paper was of his Handwriting, by the General's Order, who He was assured had no such Intention; but that He would presently speak with him and return," which He did within less than an Hour, and expressed "the Trouble the General was in upon the King's very just Exception; and that the Truth was, _He had been obliged to have much Communication with Men of all Humours and Inclinations, and so had promised to do them good Offices to the King, and could not therefore avoid_ _inserting their Names in that Paper, without any Imaginations that the King would accept them: That he had done his Part, and all that could be expected from him, and left the King to do what He had thought best for his own Service, which He would always desire him to do, whatever Proposition he should at any Time presume to make to his Majesty, which He would not promise should be always reasonable. However, He did still heartily wish that his Majesty would make use of some of those Persons_," whom He named, and said, "_He knew most of them were not his Friends, and that his Service would be more advanced by admitting them, than by leaving them out._"

The King was abundantly pleased with this good Temper of the General, and less disliked those, who He discerned would be grateful to him, than any of the rest: And so the next Day, He made the General Knight of the _Garter_, and admitted him of the Council; and likewise at the same Time gave the Signet to Mr _Morrice_, who was sworn of the Council and Secretary of State; and Sir _Antony Ashley Cooper_ who had been presented by the General under a special Recommendation, was then too sworn of the Council, and the rather, because having lately married the Niece of the Earl of _Southampton_ (who was then likewise present, and received the _Garter_ to which He had been elected some Years before) it was believed that his slippery Humour would be easily restrained and fixed by the Uncle. All this was transacted during his Majesty's Stay at _Canterbury_.

Upon the 29th of _May_, which was his Majesty's Birth-Day, and now the Day of his Restoration and Triumph, He entered _London_ the Highway from _Rochester_ to _Blackheath_, being on both Sides so full of Acclamations of Joy, and crowded with such a Multitude of People that it seemed one continued Street wonderfully inhabited. Upon _Blackheath_ the Army was drawn up, consisting of above fifty thousand Men, Horse and Foot, in excellent Order and Equipage, where the General presented the chief Officers to kiss the King's Hands, which Grace They seemed to receive with all Humility and Chearfulness. Shortly after, the Lord Mayor of _London_, the Sheriffs, and Body of the Aldermen, with the whole Militia of the City, appeared with great Lustre; whom the King received with a most graceful and obliging Countenance, and knighted the Mayor and all the Aldermen, and Sheriffs, and the principal Officers of the Militia: an Honour the City had been without near eighteen years, and therefore abundantly welcome to the Husbands and their Wives. With this Equipage the King was attended through the City of _London_, where the Streets were railed in on Both Sides that the Livery of the Companies of the City might appear with the more Order and Decency, till he came to _Whitehall_; the Windows all the way being full of Ladies and Persons of Quality, who were impatient to fill their Eyes with a beloved Spectacle of which They had been so long deprived. The King was no sooner at _Whitehall_, but (as hath been said) the Speakers, and Both Houses of Parliament, presented themselves with all possible Professions of Duty and Obedience at his Royal Feet, and were even ravished with the cheerful Reception They had from him. The Joy was universal; and whosoever was not pleased at Heart, took the more Care to appear as if He was; and no Voice was heard but of the highest Congratulation, of extolling the Person of the King, admiring his Condescentions and Affability, raising his Praises to Heaven, and cursing and detesting the Memory of those villains who had so long excluded so meritorious a Prince, and thereby withheld that Happiness from them, which they should enjoy in the largest Measure they could desire or wish.

THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY (1662).

+Source.+--_Statutes of the Realm._ Vol. v., pp. 364-370.

Whereas in the first year of the late Queen Elizabeth there was one uniform order of common service and prayer and of the administration of sacraments, rites, and ceremonies in the Church of England ... compiled by the reverend bishops and clergy, intituled, The Book of Common Prayer ... and enjoined to be used by Act of Parliament ... and yet ... a great number of people in divers parts of this realm ... do wilfully and schismatically ... refuse to come to their parish churches ... upon the Sundays and other days ... appointed to be kept as holy days; And whereas by the great and scandalous neglect of ministers in using the said order or liturgy ..., great mischiefs and inconveniences, during the times of the late unhappy troubles, have arisen ... and many people have been led into factions and schisms, to the great decay and scandal of the reformed religion of the Church of England, and to the hazard of many souls:--For the prevention of which ... in time to come, for settling the peace of the Church and for allaying the present distempers which the indisposition of the time hath contracted, the King's Majesty ... granted his commission under the Great Seal of England to several bishops and other divines to review the Book of Common Prayer and to prepare such alterations and additions as they thought fit to offer. And afterwards the convocations, ... being by his Majesty ... assembled, his Majesty hath been pleased to authorize and require the presidents of the said convocations ... to review the said Book of Common Prayer, and the book of the form and manner of the making and consecrating of bishops, priests, and deacons; And that ... they should make such additions and alterations in the said books ... as to them should seem meet and convenient.

[Which things being done] his Majesty ... hath fully approved and allowed the same, and recommended to this present Parliament, That the said Books of Common Prayer and of the form of ordination and consecration of bishops, priests, and deacons, with the alterations ... made, ... be the book which shall be appointed to be used by all that officiate in all cathedral and collegiate churches and chapels, and in all chapels of colleges and halls in both the universities, and the colleges of Eton and Winchester, and in all parish churches and chapels within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, and town of Berwick upon Tweed, and by all that make or consecrate bishops, priests, or deacons.

Be it enacted by the King's most excellent Majesty, by the advice and with the consent of the Lords spiritual and temporal, and of the Commons, in this present parliament assembled ... that all and singular ministers in any cathedral, collegiate or parish church or chapel, or other place of public worship within this realm of England, dominion of Wales, and town of Berwick upon Tweed, shall be bound to say and use ... the Book of Common Prayer.

That every parson, vicar, or other minister whatsoever, who now ... enjoyeth any ecclesiastical benefice or promotion within the ... places aforesaid, shall, in the church, chapel, or place of public worship belonging to his said benefit or promotion, upon some Lord's day before the feast of St. Bartholomew ... in the year ... one thousand six hundred and sixty and two, openly, publicly, and solemnly read the Morning and Evening Prayer ... according to the said Book of Common Prayer ... and after such reading ... shall openly and publicly, before the congregation there assembled, declare his unfeigned assent and consent to the use of all things in the said book ... in these words, and no other:--

"I [name] do hereby declare my unfeigned assent and consent to all and every thing contained and prescribed in and by the book, intituled, The Book of Common Prayer and administration of the sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies of the Church of England, together with the psalter or psalms of David, appointed as they are to be sung or said in churches; and the form or manner of making, ordaining, and consecrating of bishops, priests and deacons."

And that all ... who shall ... neglect or refuse to do the same ... shall _ipso facto_ be deprived of all his spiritual promotions.

And that ... every dean, canon, and prebendary of every cathedral or collegiate church, and all masters and other heads, fellows, chaplains, and tutors of or in any college, hall, house of learning or hospital, and every public professor and reader in either of the universities, and in every college elsewhere, and every parson, vicar, curate, lecturer, and every other person in holy orders, and every schoolmaster keeping any public or private school, and every person instructing or teaching any youth in any house or private family as a tutor or schoolmaster ... shall, before the feast of St. Bartholomew [1662] subscribe to the declaration following....

"I [name] do declare that it is not lawful upon any pretence whatsoever to take up arms against the king, and that I do abhor that traitorous position of taking arms by his authority against his person; and that I will conform to the liturgy of the Church of England, as it is now by law established. And I do declare that I do hold there lies no obligation, upon me or on any other person, from the oath commonly called The solemn league and covenant, to endeavour any ... alteration of government either in church or state, and that the same was in itself an unlawful oath, and imposed upon the subjects of this realm against the known laws and liberties of this kingdom."

THE PLAGUE IN LONDON (1665).

By DANIEL DE FOE.

+Source.+--Bohn Edition, pp. 14-16, 44-48.

The city itself began now to be visited too, I mean within the walls; but the number of people there were indeed extremely lessened, by so great a multitude having been gone into the country; and even all this month of July, they continued to flee, though not in such multitudes as formerly. In August, indeed, they fled in such a manner, that I began to think there would be really none but magistrates and servants left in the city.

As they fled now out of the city, so I should observe, that the court removed early, viz., in the month of June, and went to Oxford, where it pleased God to preserve them; and the distemper did not, as I heard of, as much as touch them; for which I cannot say that I ever saw they showed any great token of thankfulness, and hardly anything of reformation, though they did not want being told that their crying vices might, without breach of charity, be said to have gone far in bringing that terrible judgment upon the whole nation.

The face of London was now indeed strangely altered, I mean the whole mass of buildings, city, liberties, suburbs, Westminster, Southwark, and altogether; for, as to the particular part called the city, or within the walls, that was not yet much infected; but in the whole, the face of things, I say, was much altered; sorrow and sadness sat upon every face, and though some parts were not yet overwhelmed, yet all looked deeply concerned; and as we saw it apparently coming on, so every one looked on himself, and his family, as in the utmost danger: were it possible to represent those times exactly, to those that did not see them, and give the reader due ideas of the horror that everywhere presented itself, it must make just impressions upon their minds, and fill them with surprise. London might well be said to be all in tears; the mourners did not go about the streets indeed, for nobody put on black, or made a formal dress of mourning for their nearest friends; but the voice of mourning was truly heard in the streets; the shrieks of women and children at the windows and doors of their houses, where their nearest relations were, perhaps dying, or just dead, were so frequent to be heard, as we passed the streets, that it was enough to pierce the stoutest heart in the world to hear them. Tears and lamentations were seen almost in every house, especially in the first part of the visitation; for towards the latter end, men's hearts were hardened, and death was so always before their eyes, that they did not so much concern themselves for the loss of their friends, expecting that themselves should be summoned the next hour.

Business led me out sometimes to the other end of the town, even when the sickness was chiefly there; and as the thing was new to me, as well as to everybody else, it was a most surprising thing to see those streets, which were usually so thronged, now grown desolate, and so few people to be seen in them, that if I had been a stranger, and at a loss for my way, I might sometimes have gone the length of a whole street, I mean of the by-streets, and see nobody to direct me, except watchmen set at the doors of such houses as were shut up; of which I shall speak presently.

One day, being at that part of the town, on some special business, curiosity led me to observe things more than usually; and indeed I walked a great way where I had no business; I went up Holborn, and there the street was full of people; but they walked in the middle of the great street, neither on one side or other, because, as I suppose, they would not mingle with anybody that came out of houses, or meet with smells and scents from houses that might be infected.

The inns of court were all shut up, nor were very many of the lawyers in the Temple, or Lincoln's-inn, or Gray's-inn, to be seen there. Everybody was at peace, there was no occasion for lawyers; besides, it being in the time of the vacation too, they were generally gone into the country. Whole rows of houses in some places were shut close up, the inhabitants all fled, and only a watchman or two left.

When I speak of rows of houses being shut up, I do not mean shut up by the magistrates; but that great numbers of persons followed the court, by the necessity of their employments, and other dependencies; and as others retired, really frighted with the distemper, it was a mere desolating of some of the streets: but the fright was not yet near so great in the city, abstractedly so called; and particularly because, though they were at first in a most inexpressible consternation, yet, as I have observed, that the distemper intermitted often at first, so they were as it were alarmed, and unalarmed again, and this several times, till it began to be familiar to them; and that even when it appeared violent, yet seeing it did not presently spread into the city, or the east or south parts, the people began to take courage, and to be, as I may say, a little hardened. It is true, a vast many people fled, as I have observed, yet they were chiefly from the west end of the town, and from that we call the heart of the city, that is to say, among the wealthiest of the people; and such persons as were unincumbered with trades and business. But of the rest, the generality stayed, and seemed to abide the worst; so that in the place we call the liberties, and in the suburbs, in Southwark, and in the east part, such as Wapping, Ratcliff, Stepney, Rotherhithe, and the like, the people generally stayed, except here and there a few wealthy families, who, as above, did not depend upon their business.

It must not be forgot here, that the city and suburbs were prodigiously full of people at the time of this visitation, I mean at the time that it began; for though I have lived to see a farther increase, and mighty throngs of people settling in London, more than ever; yet we had always a notion that numbers of people, which, the wars being over, the armies disbanded, and the royal family and the monarchy being restored, had flocked to London to settle in business, or to depend upon, and attend the court for rewards of services, preferments, and the like, was such that the town was computed to have in it above a hundred thousand people more than ever it held before; nay, some took upon them to say, it had twice as many, because all the ruined families of the royal party flocked hither; all the soldiers set up trades here and abundance of families settled here; again, the court brought with it a great flux of pride and new fashions; all people were gay and luxurious, and the joy of the restoration had brought a vast many families to London.

I went all the first part of the time freely about the streets, though not so freely as to run myself into apparent danger, except when they dug the great pit in the churchyard of our parish of Aldgate. A terrible pit it was, and I could not resist my curiosity to go and see it; as near as I may judge, it was about forty feet in length, and about fifteen or sixteen feet broad; and, at the time I first looked at it, about nine feet deep; but it was said, they dug it near twenty feet deep afterwards, in one part of it, till they could go no deeper for the water; for they had, it seems, dug several large pits before this; for, though the plague was long a coming to our parish, yet, when it did come, there was no parish in or about London where it raged with such violence as in the two parishes of Aldgate and Whitechapel.

I say they had dug several pits in another ground when the distemper began to spread in our parish, and especially when the dead-carts began to go about, which was not in our parish till the beginning of August. Into these pits they had put perhaps fifty or sixty bodies each, then they made larger holes, wherein they buried all that the cart brought in a week, which, by the middle to the end of August, came to from two hundred to four hundred a week; and they could not well dig them larger, because of the order of the magistrates, confining them to leave no bodies within six feet of the surface; and the water coming on at about seventeen or eighteen feet, they could not well, I say, put more in one pit; but now, at the beginning of September, the plague raging in a dreadful manner, and the number of burials in our parish increasing to more than was ever buried in any parish about London, of no larger extent, they ordered this dreadful gulf to be dug, for such it was rather than a pit.

They had supposed this pit would have supplied them for a month or more, when they dug it, and some blamed the churchwardens for suffering such a frightful thing, telling them they were making preparations to bury the whole parish, and the like; but time made it appear the churchwardens knew the condition of the parish better than they did; for the pit being finished the 4th of September, I think they began to bury in it the 6th, and by the 20th, which was just two weeks, they had thrown into it 1,114 bodies, when they were obliged to fill it up, the bodies being then come to lie within six feet of the surface. I doubt not but there may be some ancient persons alive in the parish, who can justify the fact of this, and are able to show even in what place of the churchyard the pit lay better than I can; the mark of it also was many years to be seen in the churchyard on the surface, lying in length, parallel with the passage which goes by the west wall of the churchyard, out of Houndsditch, and turns east again, into Whitechapel, coming out near the Three-Nuns inn.

It was about the 10th of September, that my curiosity led, or rather drove me to go and see this pit again, when there had been near four hundred people buried in it; and I was not content to see it in the day time, as I had done before, for then there would have been nothing to have been seen but the loose earth; for all the bodies that were thrown in were immediately covered with earth, by those they called the buriers, which at other times were called bearers; but I resolved to go in the night, and see some of them thrown in.

There was a strict order to prevent people coming to those pits, and that was only to prevent infection; but, after some time, that order was more necessary, for people that were infected, and near their end, and delirious also, would run to those pits wrapt in blankets, or rugs, and throw themselves in, and, as they said, bury themselves. I cannot say that the officers suffered any willingly to lie there; but I have heard, that in a great pit in Finsbury, in the parish of Cripplegate, it lying open then to the fields, for it was not then walled about, many came and threw themselves in, and expired there, before they threw any earth upon them; and that when they came to bury others, and found them there, they were quite dead, though not cold.

This may serve a little to describe the dreadful condition of that day, though it is impossible to say anything that is able to give a true idea of it to those who did not see it, other than this; that it was indeed, very, very, very dreadful, and such as no tongue can express.

I got admittance into the churchyard by being acquainted with the sexton who attended, who, though he did not refuse me at all, yet earnestly persuaded me not to go: telling me very seriously, for he was a good religious and sensible man, that it was, indeed, their business and duty to venture, and to run all hazards, and that in it they might hope to be preserved; but that I had no apparent call to it but my own curiosity, which, he said, he believed I would not pretend, was sufficient to justify my running that hazard. I told him I had been pressed in my mind to go, and that, perhaps, it might be an instructing sight, that might not be without its uses. Nay, says the good man, if you will venture upon that score, Name of God, go in; for, depend upon it, it will be a sermon to you, it may be, the best that ever you heard in your life. It is a speaking sight, says he, and has a voice with it, and a loud one, to call us all to repentance; and with that he opened the door, and said, Go, if you will.