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Dark The Woods Where Night Rains Weep

handbook
at 8:30 amrss (Melancholy, Other Writ, Poetry, Royalism, Stuarts, The King of Terrors)

Full of grief, the low winds sweep
O’er the sorrow-haunted ground;
Dark the woods where night rains weep,
Dark the hills that watch around.

Tell me, can the joys of spring
Ever make this sad­ness flee,
Make the woods with music ring,
And the stream­let laugh for glee ?

When the sum­mer moor is lit
With the pale fire of the broom,
And through green the shad­ows flit,
Still shall mirth give place to gloom ?

Sad shall it be, though sun be shed
Golden bright on field and flood;
E’en the heather’s crim­son red
Holds the memory of blood.

Here that broken, weary band
Met the ruth­less foe’s array,
Where those moss-grown boulders stand,
On that dark and fatal day.

Like a phantom hope had fled,
Love to death was all in vain,
Vain, though her­oes’ blood was shed,
And though hearts were broke in twain.

Many a voice has cursed the name
Time has into dark­ness thrust,
Cruelty his only fame
In for­get­ful­ness and dust.

Noble dead that sleep below,
We your valour né’er for­get;
Soft the her­oes’ rest who know
Hearts like theirs are beat­ing yet.

 
Alice Mac­don­ell of Kep­poch : Cul­loden Moor ( Seen in Autumn Rain )

 

 

Self-Ending Sacrifice for Dead Lover

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He Who Told Every Man That He Was Equal To His King Could Hardly Want An Audience

But the truth is that the knowledge of external nature, and the sciences which that knowledge requires or includes, are not the great or the frequent business of the human mind. Whether we provide for action or conversation, whether we wish to be useful or pleasing, the first requisite is the religious and moral knowledge of right and wrong; the next is an acquaintance with the history of mankind, and with those examples which may be said to embody truth and prove by events the reasonableness of opinions. Prudence and Justice are virtues and excellences of all times and of all places; we are perpetually moralists, but we are geometricians only by chance. Our intercourse with intellectual nature is necessary; our speculations upon matter are voluntary and at leisure. Physiological learning is of such rare emergence that one man may know another half his life without being able to estimate his skill in hydrostaticks or astronomy, but his moral and prudential character immediately appears.

Milton when he undertook this answer was weak of body and dim of sight; but his will was forward, and what was wanting of health was supplied by zeal. He was rewarded with a thousand pounds, and his book was much read; for paradox, recommended by spirit and elegance, easily gains attention: and he who told every man that he was equal to his King could hardly want an audience.

His political notions were those of an acrimonious and surly republican, for which it is not known that he gave any better reason than that "a popular government was the most frugal; for the trappings of a monarchy would set up an ordinary commonwealth." It is surely very shallow policy, that supposes money to be the chief good; and even this without considering that the support and expence of a Court is for the most part only a particular kind of traffick, by which money is circulated without any national impoverishment.

It has been observed that they who most loudly clamour for liberty do not most liberally grant it. What we know of Milton's character in domestick relations is, that he was severe and arbitrary. His family consisted of women; and there appears in his books something like a Turkish contempt of females, as subordinate and inferior beings. That his own daughters might not break the ranks, he suffered them to be depressed by a mean and penurious education. He thought woman made only for obedience, and man only for rebellion.

 

Ground Zero

Footnote:>

The wisdom of the nation is very reasonably supposed to reside in the parliament. What can be concluded of the lower classes of the people, when in one of the parliaments, summoned by Cromwell, it was seriously proposed, that all the records in the Tower should be burnt, that all memory of things past should be effaced, and that the whole system of life should commence anew ?

Samuel Johnson : The Lives of the Poets --- Milton

 

 

Sigh No More My Lady
"Sigh No More"

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Filicides

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(Music, Royalism, Self Writ, Stuarts, The Enemy, Videos)

One of the many rare distinctions appertaining to being a jacobite is the fact that --- without overtly disliking, yet not over-valuing, people except insofar as they adhere to creeds of filthy republicanism --- one is able to loathe all parties concerned in Northern Ireland without distinction.

Famously, after the last battle, at Stow-on-the-Wold, Jacob Astley, Major-General of the King's Infantry, contemptuously predicted to his conquerors: "Now Boys, ye may now sit down and play, for you have done all your Worke, if you fall not out among yourselves."

 
Quite apart from egregious terrorism and racketeering, which form a link with the established political movements which support and sponsor them and their ideals, the multi-splintered groups forming the twin ideals of Irish Republicanism and Unionist Loyalism are further joined by their infamous beliefs in democracy and religion: each partaking of the ancient liberal evil which rejected the Stuarts and Divine Right Royalism. As are also heirs --- of course --- the government forces of the pseudo-monarchical Great Britain --- serving the ultimate beneficiaries of the murder of Charles the First and the expulsion of his progeny: foul old parliament and it's hireling Windsor puppets squatting on a usurped throne --- and dreary little Eire, which puts all these gangs of parricidal and fratricidal sentimental bastards beyond the pale.

 
Ulster's 'Troubles' is merely one part of the aftermath of the defeat of Royalism whereby the republican scum fell out amongst themselves.
 

 
However, like most movements each can play a jolly tune --- outside the province and some parts of Scotland religio-political parades are sufficiently rare --- and here is one group of protties, the Ravenshill Flute Band, on Black Saturday 2006, playing Hello ! Hello ! Who's Your Lady Friend ? --- one of the Edwardian era's most spectacular songs.

 

 

It was written by the half-French Fragson, murdered by his own father.

 

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Sir Jacob Astley

General Jacob Astley, First Baron Astley of Reading

 

 

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Harry Fragson -- 'Hello ! Hello !' = 1913

 

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Harry Fragson -- 'Anna, Qu'est-Ce Que T'attends !' = 1906

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& Saxt">Jamie First & Saxt

handbook
at 11:30 pmrss (Correctitude, High Germany, Manners not Morals, Other Writ, Royalism, Stuarts)

Fre­d­er­ick now asked his father-in-law, as a part­ing gift to him, to grant liber­ty to one of the unhappy band of polit­ic­al pris­on­ers whose lifelong deten­tion in the Tower was a pub­lic scan­dal. His can­did­ate was the least obnox­ious pos­sible. Lord Grey de Wilton, the young Pur­it­an noble who had been con­demned to death for par­ti­cip­a­tion in the Bye Plot, had been now immured for ten years, and his spir­it was repor­ted much broken. Fre­d­er­ick made his request, and caught a ter­ri­fy­ing glimpse of a James Stu­art hither­to unknown to him, not the Prin­cess Elizabeth’s “dear dad”, learned, lax and lov­ing, but the James Stu­art of the Gowrie Con­spir­acy and Gun­powder Plot.

Car­o­la Oman : Eliza­beth of Bohemia.
 

 

Kitten Staring

 

 

And just to drive home a point with icy charm…
 

James’s even­tu­al dis­missal of Frederick’s suit was well cal­cu­lated to crush a nervous youth. “Son, when I come into Ger­many I will prom­ise you not to impor­tune you for any of your pris­on­ers”.

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The Condition Of All Earthly Things

If all these things aforesaid were indeed performed, as we haue shewed them in words, you should haue a perfect Orchard in nature and substance, begunne to your hand; And yet are all these things nothing, if you want that skill to keepe and dresse your trees. Such is the condition of all earthly things, whereby a man receiueth profit or pleasure, that they degenerate presently without good ordering. Man himselfe left to himselfe, growes from his heauenly and spirituall generation, and becommeth beastly, yea deuillish to his owne kind, vnlesse he be regenerate No maruell then, if Trees make their shootes, and put their spraies disorderly. And truly ( if I were worthy to iudge ) there is not a mischiefe that breedeth greater and more generall harme to all the Orchard ( especially if they be of any continuance ) that euer I saw, ( I will not except three ) then the want of the skilfull dressing of trees. It is a common and vnskilfull opinion, and saying. Let all grow, and they will beare more fruit: and if you lop away superfluous boughes, they say, what a pitty is this ? How many apples would these haue borne? not considering there may arise hurt to your Orchard, as well ( nay rather ) by abundance, as by want of wood. Sound and thriuing plants in a good soile, will euer yeeld too much wood, and disorderly, but neuer too little. So that a skilfull and painfull Arborist, need neuer want matter to effect a plentifull and well drest Orchard: for it is an easie matter to take away superfluous boughes ( if your Gardner haue skill to know them ) whereof your plants will yeeld abundance, and skill will leaue sufficient well ordered. All ages both by rule and experience doe consent to a pruining and lopping of trees: yet haue not any that I know described vnto vs ( except in darke and generall words ) what or which are those superfluous boughes, which we must take away, and that is the chiefe and most needfull point to be knowne in lopping. And we may well assure our selues, ( as in all other Arts, so in this ) there is a vantage and dexterity, by skill, and an habite by practise out of experience, in the performance hereof for the profit of mankind; yet doe I not know ( let me speake it with the patience of our cunning Arborists ) any thing within the compasse of humane affaires so necessary, and so little regarded, not onely in Orchards, but also in all other timber trees, where or whatsoeuer.

Of the right dressing of trees

William Lawson -- A New Orchard And Garden : Or, The best way for planting, grafting, and to make any ground good, for a Rich Orchard: Particularly in the North and generally for the whole kingdome of England, as in nature, reason, situation, and all probabilitie, may and doth appeare. 1631

 

 

Charles at the Commons

Charles West Cope --- Attempted Arrest of Five Members of the House of Commons by Charles I

 

 

17th Century Garden

 

 

A. Al these squares must bee set with trees, the Gardens and other ornaments must stand in spaces betwixt the trees, & in the borders & fences.

B. Trees 20. yards asunder.

C. Garden Knots.

D. Kitchen garden.

E. Bridge.

F. Conduit.

G. Staires.

H. Walkes set with great wood thicke.

I. Walkes set with great wood round about your Orchard.

K. The out fence.

L. The out fence set with stone-fruite.

M. Mount. To force earth for a mount, or such like set it round with quicke, and lay boughes of trees strangely intermingled tops inward, with the earth in the midle.

N. Still-house.

O. Good standing for Bees, if you haue an house.

P. If the riuer run by your doore, & vnder your mount, it will be pleasant.

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Night’s Black Bird

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(Charles I, Melancholy, Music, Other Writ, Stuarts)

Flow my teares fall from your springs,
Exilde for ever: Let me morne
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorne.

Downe vaine lights shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispaire their last fortunes deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.

Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pittie is fled,
And teares, and sighes, and grones
My wearie days of all joyes have deprived.

From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is throwne,
And feare, and griefe, and paine
For my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone.

Hark you shadowes that in darkesse dwell,
Learn to contemne light,
Happy that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.

John Dowland : Flow My Tears

 

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Jenips & Ervin Lumauag

 
Girl in Black Dress

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The Glass House

handbook
at 2:00 amrss (Art, Generalia, Royalism, Self Writ, Stuarts)

Still ill...

Retreat Moscow

 
 

Apparently there's another jacobite in Suffolk: The Jacobite Intelligencer; which must restore the county average. Eventually we may not have enough for a Rising, but definitely sufficient for a small sedate party.

cocaine film

 

Still, I bought the wheel bit of an old roulette wheel yesterday, for no other reason that it is slightly weird; but I can't see it providing even minutes of fun...

 

***

In the meantime I temporarily decided on an attraction to reading about greenhouses for no particular reason ( being averse to gardening beyond watering a plant or two ), which led to a/ the grander type of conservatory, such as that at Laeken; and thence to palatial gardening --- Prussian Palaces has Peacock Island, which is pretty... and b/ to the Crystal Palace of 1851. Found a thread five pages long with hundreds of images of the original Crystal Palace; this the Alhambra Lion Court

 

Alhambra Lions

 
 
Apparently Maximilian II immediately built a rather stiff tribute Glaspalast in Munich in 1854; and even the Americans also copied the concept a year earlier, for the New York Crystal Palace. Walt Whitman wrote an advertising jingle which exemplifies both his virtues, unmatched facility and prettiness, and his faults: sincerity, the inane repellent Early American Braggadocio incompatible with delicacy, and pedestrian triumphalist ideology...

... a Palace,
Lofter, fairer, ampler than any yet,
Earth's modern wonder, History's Seven out stripping,
High rising tier on tier, with glass and iron facades,
Gladdening the sun and sky - enhued in the cheerfulest hues,
Bronze, lilac, robin's-egg, marine and crimson
Over whose golden roof shall flaunt, beneath thy banner, Freedom.

 
Aphrodite, Killer of Men, emerged on this rock in Cyprus: note the adorable placing of both tarmac and roadsign to enhance the veneration of her holy place...

Fowler Aphrodite

Robert Fowler -- Aphrodite

 
Returns to mind-glazing anime...

Loli

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Felt Of This Flame

NOT that by this disdain
I am releas'd,
And freed from thy tyrannick chain,
Do I my self think blest;

Nor that thy Flame shall burn
No more; for know
That I shall into ashes turn,
Before this fire doth so.

Nor yet that unconfin'd
I now may rove,
And with new beauties please my mind;
But that thou ne'r didst love:

For since thou hast no part
Felt of this flame,
I onely from thy tyrant heart
Repuls'd, not banish'd am.

To loose what once was mine
Would grieve me more
Then those inconstant sweets of thine
Had pleas'd my soul before.

Now I have not lost the blisse
I ne'r possest;
And spight of fate am blest in this,
That I was never blest.

Sir Thomas Stanley : The Repulse

 

Hodler - The Dream
Ferdinand Hodler --- The Dream

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IV : Open The Door">Herbert IV : Open The Door

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(Charles I, Correctitude, Other Writ, Stuarts, The King of Terrors)

So as his Majesty, abandoning all Thoughts of earthly Concerns, continued in Prayer and Meditation,and concluded with a chearful Submission to the Will and Pleasure of the Almighty, saying, He was ready to resign himself into the Hands of Christ Jesus, being with the Kingly Prophet, shut up in the hands of his enemies ; as is expressed in the 31st Psalm, and the 8th Verse.

Colonel Hacker then knock'd easily at the King's Chamber Door, Mr. Her­bert being within, would not stir to ask who it was; but knocking the second time a little louder, the King bade him go to the Door. He guess'd his Business. So Mr. Herbert demanding. Wherefore he knock'd ? The Colonel said, he would speak with the King. The King said, Let him come in. The Colonel in trem­bling manner came near, and told his Majesty, It was time to go to White-Hall, where he might have some fur­ther time to rest. The King bad him go forth, he would come presently. Some time his Majesty was private, and after­wards taking the good Bishop by the Hand, looking upon him with a chearful Countenance, he said, Come, let us go ; and bidding Mr. Herbert, take with him the Silver Clock, that hung by the Bed side, said, Open the Door, Hacker has given us a Second Warn­ing. Through the Garden the King, pass'd into the Park, where making a stand, he ask'd Mr. Herbert the Hour of the Day ; and taking the Clock into his Hand, gave it him, and bade him keep it in memory of him ; which Mr. Herbert keeps accordingly.

The Park had several Companies of Foot drawn up, who made a Guard on either side as the King passed, and a Guard of Halberdiers in company went some before, and other some followed ; the Drums beat, and the Noise was so great as one could hardly hear what another spoke.

Upon the King's Right-Hand went the Bishop, and Colonel Tomlinson on his left, with whom his Majesty had some Discourse by the way ; Mr. Herbert was next the King ; after him the Guards. In this manner went the King through the Park ; and coming to the Stair, the King passed along the Galleries unto his Bed-chamber, where, after a little Repose, the Bishop went to Prayer; which, being done, his Ma­jesty bid Mr. Herbert bring him some Bread and Wine, which being- brought, the King broke the Manchet, and eat a Mouthful of it, and drank a small Glassfull of Claret-Wine, and then was some­time in private with the Bishop, expect­ing when Hacker would the third and last time give warning. Mean time his Majesty told Mr. Herbert which Satin Night-Cap he would use, which being provided, and the King at private Prayer, Mr. Herbert address'd himself to the Bishop, and told him, The King had ordered him to have a White Satin Night-Cap ready, but was not able to endure the sight of that Violence they upon the Scaffold would offer the King The good Bishop bid him then give him the Cap, and wait at the end of the Banquetting-House, near the Scaffold, to take care of the King's Body ; for ( said he ) that, and his Interment, will be our last Office.

Colonel Hacker came soon after to the Bed-Chamber-Door, and gave his last signal; the Bishop and Mr. Herbert, weeping, fell upon their Knees, and the King gave them his Hand to kiss, and help'd the Bishop up, for he was aged.

Colonel Hacker attending still at the Chamber-Door, the King took notice of it, and said, Open the Door, and bade Hacker go, he would follow. A Guard was made all along the Galleries and the Banqueting-House ; but behind the Soldiers abundance of Men and Women crowded in, though with some Peril to their Persons, to behold the saddest sight England ever saw. And as his Majesty pass'd by,with a chearful Look, heard them pray for him, the Soldiers not rebuking any of them; by their silence and dejected Faces seeming afflicted rather than insulting. There was a Passage broken through the Wall by which the King pass'd unto the Scaffold ; where, after his Majesty had spoken a little, the fatal Stroke was given by a disguised Person.

Mr. Herbert, during this, was at the Door lamenting; and the Bishop coming thence with the Royal Corps, which was immediately coffin'd, and covered with a black Velvet-Pall ; he and Mr. Herbert went with it to the Back-Stairs to be embalmed. Mean time they went into the Long-Gallery, where chancing to meet the General, he ask'd Mr. Her­bert, how the King did ? Which he thought strange ( it seems thereby that the General knew not what had passed, being all that Morning ( as indeed at other times ) using his Power and In­terest to have the Execution deferred for some days, forbearing his coming among the Officers, and fully resolv'd, with his own Regiment, to prevent the Exe­cution, or have it deferr'd till he could make a Party in the Army to second his Design ; but being with the Officers of the Army then at Prayer, or Discourse in Colonel Harrison's Apartment ( being a Room at the hither end of that Gallery looking towards the Privy-Garden ) His Question being answer'd, the General seem'd much surpriz'd ; and walking further in the Gallery, they were met by another great Commander, Cromwell, who knew what had so lately passed ; for he told them, They should have Orders for the King's Burial speedily.

The Royal Corps being embalmed and coffined, and those wrapt in Lead, and covered with a new Velvet-Pall, was removed to the King's House at St James's, where was great pressing by all sorts of People to see the King, or where he was ; A doleful Spectacle ! but few had leave to enter and behold it.

Sir Thomas Herbert : Memoirs of the Two Last Years of the Reign of KING CHARLES I — 1839 4th edition.

 
Crofts Charles the First

Ernest Crofts --- Charles the First on His Way to Execution

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Those Babies In Your Eyes

handbook
at 3:25 amrss (Melancholy, Other Writ, Poetry, Stuarts)

You say I love not, 'cause I doe not play
Still with your curles, and kisse the time away.
You blame me too, because I cann't devise
Some sport, to please those Babies in your eyes:
By Loves Religion, I must here confesse it,
The most I love, when I the least expresse it.
Small griefs find tongues: Full Casques are ever found
To give ( if any, yet ) but little sound.
Deep waters noyse-lesse are; And this we know,
That chiding streams betray small depth below.
So when Love speechlesse is, she doth expresse
A depth in love, and that depth, bottomlesse.
Now since my love is tongue-lesse, know me such,
Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much.

Robert Herrick : To his Mistresse objecting to him neither Toying or Talking

 
Munch - Bohemians

Edvard Munch --- Bohemians

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III : Death Is Not Terrible To Me">Herbert III : Death Is Not Terrible To Me

That Night, after which Sentence was pronounc'd in Westminster-Hall, Colonel Hacker ( who then commanded the Guards about the King ) would have plac'd two Musqueteers in the King's Bed-Chamber, which his Majesty being acquainted with, he made no Reply, only gave a Sigh ; howbeit the good Bishop and Mr. Herbert, apprehending the Horrour of it, and Disturbance it would give the King in his Meditations and Preparation for his Departure out of this uncomfortable World ; also re­presenting the Barbarousness of such an Act, they never left the Colonel till he reversed his Order by withdrawing these Men.

After the Bishop was gone to his Lodging, the King continu'd reading and praying more than two Hours after. The King commanded Mr. Herbert to lie by his Bed-side upon a Pallat, where he took small rest, that being the last Night his Gracious Sovereign and Mas­ter enjoy'd ; but nevertheless the King for Four Hours or thereabouts, slept soundly,and awaking about Two Hours afore day, he open'd his Curtain to call Mr. Herbert; there being a great Cake of Wax set in a Silver Bason, that then as at all other times burned all Night; so that he perceiv'd him somewhat disturb'd in sleep; but calling him, bad him rise ; For, ( said his Majesty ) I will get up having a great Work to do this Day ; however he would know why he was so troubled in his sleep ? He reply'd May it please your Majesty I was dream­ing. I would know your Dream, said the King; which being told his Ma­jesty said, It was remarkable. Herbert, this is my Second Marriage-Day ; I would be as trim to day as may be ; for before Night I hope to be espoused to my blessed Jesus. He then appointed what Cloaths he would wear; Let me have a Shirt on more than ordinary, said the King, by reason the season is so sharp as probably may make me shake, which some Observers will imagine pro­ceeds from fear. I would have no such Imputation. I fear not Death ! Death is not terrible to me. I bless my God I am prepar'd.

These, or Words to this effect, his Majesty spoke to Mr. Herbert, as he was making ready. Soon after came Dr. Juxon Bishop of London precisely at the time his Majesty the Night be­fore had appointed him. Mr. Herbert then falling upon his Knees, humbly beg'd his Majesty's Pardon, if he had at any time been negligent in his Duty, whilst he had the Honour to serve him. The King thereupon gave him his Hand to kiss, having the day before been graciously pleased, under his Royal Hand, to give him a Certificate, expressing, That the said Mr. Herbert, was not impos'd upon him, but by his Majesty made choice of to attend him in his Bed-Chamber, and had serv'd him with Faithfulness and Loyal Affec­tion. At the same time his Majesty also deliver'd him his Bible, in the Margin whereof he had with his own hand writ many Annotations and Quotations, and charged him to give it the Prince so soon as he returned ; repeating what he had enjoyned the Princess Elizabeth, his Daughter, That he would be dutiful and indulgent to the Queen his Mother ( to whom his Majesty writ two days before by Mr. Seymour ) affectionate to his Brothers and Sisters, who also were to be observant and dutiful to him their Sovereign; and for as much as from his Heart he had forgiven his Enemies, and in perfect Charity with all Men would leave the World, he had advised the Prince his Son to exceed in Mercy, not in rigour; and, as to Episcopacy, it was still his Opinion, That it is of Apostolique Institution, and in this Kingdom exercised from the Primitive Times, and therein, as in all other his Affairs pray'd God to vouchsafe him, both in reference to Church and State, a pious and a discerning Spirit; and that it was his last and earnest Request, that he would frequently read the Bible, which in all the time of his Affliction had been his best lnstructor and Delight; and to meditate upon what he read ; as also such other Books as might improve his Knowledge. He likewise command­ed Mr. Herbert to give his Son,the Duke of York, his large Ring Sun-Dial of Silver, a Jewel his Majesty much valu'd; it was invented and made by Mr. Delamaine, an able Mathematician, who projected it, and in a little printed Book shew'd its excellent Use, in resolving many Questions in Arithmetick, and other rare Operations to be wrought by it in the Mathematicks. To the Princess Elizabeth Doctor Andrews's Sermons ( he was Prelate of the most noble Order of the Garter, as he was Bishop of Win­chester ), Archbishop Laud against Fisher the Jesuit, which Book ( the King said ) would ground her against Popery, and Mr. Hooker's Ecclesias­tical Polity. To the Duke of Glou­cester, King James's Works, and Dr. Hammond's Practical Catechism, Cas­sandra to the Earl of Lindsey, the Lord High Chamberlain. And his Gold Watch to the Dutchess of Richmond. All which, as opportunity serv'd, Mr. Herbert deliver'd.

His Majesty then bade him with­draw ; for he was about an hour in pri­vate with the Bishop ; and being call'd in, the Bishop went to Prayer ; and reading also the 27th Chapter of the Gospel of St. Matthew, which relateth the Passion of our Blessed Saviour. The King, after the Service was done, ask'd the Bishop, If he had made choice of that Chapter, being so applicable to his present Condition ? The Bishop reply'd, May it please your Gracious Majesty, it is the proper Lesson for the Day, as ap­pears by the Kalender; which the King was much affected with, so aptly serv­ing as a seasonable Preparation for his Death that Day.

Sir Thomas Herbert : Memoirs of the Two Last Years of the Reign of KING CHARLES I --- 1839 4th edition.

 

Charles the First

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II : The Door Unto Eternity">Herbert II : The Door Unto Eternity

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(Charles I, Correctitude, Other Writ, Stuarts, The King of Terrors)

The Pres­id­ent then gave Judg­ment again­st the King, who at the President’s pro­noun­cing it, was observ’d to smile, and lift up his Eyes to Heav­en ; as ap­pealing to the Divine Majesty, the most supreme Judge.

The King, at the rising of the Court, was with a Guard of Hal­berdiers re­turned to White-Hall in a close Chair, through King-Street, both sides where­of had a Guard of Foot-Soldiers, who were silent as his Majesty pass’d. But Shop-Stalls and Win­dows were full of Peo­ple, many of which shed Tears, and some of them with aud­ible Voices pray’d for the King, who through the Privy-Garden was car­ried to his Bed-Chamber ; whence, after Two Hours space, he was removed to St. James’s. Noth­ing of the Fear of Death, or In­dignities offered, seem’d a Ter­ror, or provok’d him to Impa­tience, nor utter’d he a reproach­ful Word reflect­ing upon any of his Judges ( albeit he well knew that some of them had been his Domes­tic Ser­vants ) or again­st any Mem­ber of the House, or Officer of the Army ; so won­der­ful was his Patience, though his Spir­it was great, and might oth­er­wise have expressed his Resent­ments upon sev­er­al occa­sions. It was a true Chris­tian-Fortitude to have the Mas­tery of his Pas­sion, and Sub­mis­sion to the Will of God under such Tempta­tions.
The King now bid­ding farewel to the World, his whole busi­ness was a ser­i­ous Pre­par­a­tion for Death, which opens the Door unto Etern­ity; in order there­un­to, he laid aside all oth­er Thoughts, and spent the remainder of his time in Pray­er and oth­er pious Exer­cises of Devo­tion, and in con­fer­ence with that meek and learned Bish­op Dr. Juxon, who under God, was a great Sup­port to him in his afflic­ted con­di­tion.

Mr. Her­bert about this time going to the Cock­pit near White-Hall, where the Earl of Pem­broke’s Lodgings were, he then, as at sun­dry oth­er times, en­quired how his Majesty did, and gave his humble Duty to him, and withal, ask’d him, If his Majesty had the Gold Watch he sent for, and how he liked it. Mr. Her­bert assured his Lord­ship, the King had not yet received it. The Earl fell presently into a Pas­sion, mar­velling there­at; being the more trou­bled, lest his Majesty should think him care­less, in observing his Com­mands ; and told Mr. Her­bert, at the King’s com­ing to St. James’s, as he was sit­ting under the great Elm-Tree, near Sir Ben­jamin Rud­di­er’s Lodge in the Park, see­ing a con­sid­er­able Military-Officer of the Army pass towards St. James’s, he went to meet him, and demand­ing of him, If he knew his Cous­in Tom Her­bert, that waited on the King ? The Officer said, He did, and was going to St. James’s. The Earl then delivered to him the Gold Watch that had the Alarm, desir­ing him to give it Mr. Her­bert, to present it to the King. The Officer prom­ised the Earl he would imme­di­ately do it. My Lord ( said Mr. Her­bert ) I have sun­dry times seen and pass’d by that Officer since, and do assure your Lord­ship he hath not deliver’d it me accord­ing to your Order and his Prom­ise, nor said any thing to me con­cerning it, nor has the King it I am cer­tain. The Earl was very angry; and gave the Officer his due Char­ac­ter, and threatened to ques­tion him. But such was the sever­ity of the Times, that it was then judged dan­ger­ous to reflect upon such a Per­son, being a Favour­ite of the time, so as no notice was taken of it. Nev­er­the­less, Mr. Her­bert ( at the Earl’s desire ) acquain­ted his Majesty there­with, who gave the Earl his Thanks,and said, Ah ! Had he not told the Officer it was for me, it would prob­ably have been delivered ; he well knew how short a time I could enjoy it. This Rela­tion is in pro­sec­u­tion of what it formerly mention’d, con­cern­ing the Clock or Alarm-Watch his Majesty inten­ded to dis­pose of, as is declared.

That Even­ing, Mr. Seamour ( a Gen­tle­man then attend­ing the Prince of Wales in his Bed-Chamber ) by Colo­nel Hack­er’s per­mis­sion, came to his Majesty’s Bed-Chamber Door, desir­ing to speak with the King from the Prince of Wales; being admit­ted, he pre­sented his Majesty with a Let­ter from his High­ness the Prince of Wales, bear­ing date from the Hag­ue the 23d day of Janu­ary -48. ( Old Stile ). Mr. Seamour, at his Entrance, fell into a Pas­sion, hav­ing formerly seen his Ma­jesty in a glor­i­ous State, and now in a dol­or­ous; and hav­ing kiss’d the King’s Hand, clasp’d about his Legs, lament­ably mourn­ing. Hack­er came in with the Gen­tle­men and was abash’d.

Sir Thomas Her­bert : Mem­oirs of the Two Last Years of the Reign of KING CHARLES I  —  1839 4th edi­tion.

 
Charles I at trial

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Deny’d In Heaven The Soul He Held On Earth

handbook
at 10:00 amrss (Animals, High Germany, Other Writ, Royalism, Self Writ, Stuarts, The Building Blocks of Democracy)

C. Van Carter has two good blogs, Across Difficult Country, and Craptocracy.

From the first is an old post Arrival: Vaduz, where he rightly says:

What truly sets Liechtenstein apart as a country is that it has not succumbed to the foolish democracy fad which has ruined all other modern nations. Liechtenstein is still ruled by a monarch, as it has been since the the Middle Ages (not coincidentally the last decent period in human history). The current head of state is Prince Hans-Adam II of Liechtenstein, a rather dashing fellow, and over dinner at Vaduz Castle he describes to me the wealth and happiness that flows to Liechtenstein's people as a result of its monarchical system

I may add that Princess Sophie of Bavaria, Hereditary Princess of Liechtenstein --- daughter-in-law to Hans-Adam II and wife of Prince Alois, the Regent of Liechtenstein --- is, after her father Prince Max, heir to the Stuart regalities when the Stuart-Wittelsbach conjunction ceases.

*****

And from the second, a more recent post discusses some absurd fellow who seeks the equally absurd position of president to the USA: never heard of him, but a Mr. Hucklebee. This unsavoury little chap wishes to ban smoking throughout the American dominions --- admittedly one may say 'fat chance' sceptically, but Yanks do adore ploughing their economy into pointless wars, and an extension of the War on Terror into a Second Front against domestic smoking will certainly appeal to the moral retard majority... --- and there's a nasty story regarding his son --- who recently was fined for having a loaded gun whilst travelling through an airport [ don't try this whilst devoutly reading the Qur'an and mumbling ] --- hanging a dog at Scout Camp. Something he later claimed was done since the animal was sick and suffering: must account for the rows of gallows adjacent to every retirement home... His benighted father is alleged to have attempted to interfere with the administration of justice. His Chief of Staff admitted asking the Director of State Police who was afterwards fired by Governor Hucklebee: "Is it normal for the state police to … investigate something that happened at a Boy Scout camp ?"

Kinda... police in most jurisdictions, even perhaps Pakistan, are going to get active over any allegations of torture unconnected to their own activities. It's what makes us civilised.

 

Tomb of Boatswain

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Herbert I : Not Varying From His Principle

Monday the 22d. of January, Col. Hacker brought his Majesty the Second time before the Court, then sitting, as formerly in Westminster-Hall. Now the more noble the Person is, the more heavy is the Spectacle, and enclines generous Hearts to a Sympathy in his Sufferings ; here it was otherwise; for so soon as his Majesty came into West­minster-Hall, some Soldiers made a hideous Cry for Justice, Justice ; some of the Officers joyning with them. At which uncouth Noise the King seem'd somewhat abash'd, but overcame it with Patience. Sure, to persecute a distress­ed Soul, and to vex him that is already wounded at the Heart, is the very pitch of Wickedness ; yea, the utmost Extremity Malice can do, or Affliction suffer, saith Dr. Andrews, the Learned Bishop of Win­chester, in one of his Sermons upon the Passion, preach'd before Queen Elizabeth upon Good-Friday, and here applicable. As his Majesty returned from the Hall to Cotton-House, a Souldier that was upon the Guard, said aloud, as the King pass'd by, God bless you, Sir. The King thank'd him ; but an uncivil Officer struck him with his Cane upon the Head ; which his Majesty observ­ing, said The Punishment exceeded the Offence. Being come to his Apartment in Cotton-House, he immediately, upon his Knees, went to Prayer. Afterwards he asked Mr. Herbert if he heard that Cry of the Soldiers for Justice ? Who answer'd, he did, and marvell'd thereat. So did not I ( said the King ) for l am well assur'd the Soldiers bear no Malice to me ; The Cry was, no doubt given by their Officers, for whom the Soldiers would do the like, were there occasion.

His Majesty likewise demanded of him, How many there were that sate in the Court, and who they were ? He replied, They were upwards of Three­score, some of them Members of the House of Commons, others were Com­manders in the Army, and other some Citizens of London ; some of them he knew, but not all. The King then said, He view'd all of them, but knew not the Faces of above Eight, and those he named.

Tuesday the 23d of January, the King was the Third time summoned, and, as formerly, guarded to the Court; where ( as at other times ) he persisted in his Judgment, That they had no legal Jurisdiction or Authority to proceed after that manner against him. Upon which, the Solicitor began to offer something to the President of the Court, but was interrupted by the King, gently laying his Staff upon the Solicitor's Arm, the Head of which being Silver, happen'd to fall off, which Mr. Herbert ( who as his Majesty appointed, waited near his Chair ) stoop'd to take up; but falling on the contrary side, to which he could not reach, the King took it up himself. This by some was look'd upon as a bad Omen.

The Court sate but a little while that day ; the King not varying from his Principle. At his going back to Cotton-House, there were many Men and Women, who ( not without some Ha­zard ) crowded into the Passage behind the Soldiers, that as his Majesty pass'd, said aloud, God Almighty preserve your Majesty. The King return'd them Thanks for their Prayers.

Sir Thomas Herbert : Memoirs of the Two Last Years of the Reign of KING CHARLES I --- 1839 4th edition.

 

Charles I coin

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The Tongue No Man Can Tame

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(Correctitude, Other Writ, Royalism, Stuarts)

From the religious opinions of a people, the transi­tion is natural to their political partialities. One great political change has passed over Scotland, which none now living can hardly be said to have actually witnessed; but they remember those who were contemporaries of the anxious scenes of '45, and many of us have known determined and thorough Jacobites. The poetry of that political period still remains, but we hear only as pleasant songs those words and melodies which stirred the hearts and excited the deep enthusiasm of a past generation. Jacobite anecdotes also are fading from our knowledge. To many young persons they are unknown. Of these stories illustrative of Jacobite feelings and enthusiasm, many are of a character not fit for me to record. The good old ladies who were violent partisans of the Stuarts had little hesitation in referring without reserve to the future and eternal destiny of William of Orange. One anecdote which I had from a near relative of the family may be adduced in illustration of the powerful hold which the cause had upon the views and consciences of Jacobites.

A former Mr. Stirling of Keir had favoured the Stuart cause, and had in fact attended a muster of forces at the Brig of Turk previous to the '15. This symptom of a rising against the Government occasioned some uneasi­ness, and the authorities were very active in their endea­vours to discover who were the leaders of the movement Keir was suspected. The miller of Keir was brought forward as a witness, and swore positively that the laird was not present. Now, as it was well known that he was there, and that the miller knew it, a neighbour asked him pri­vately, when he came out of the witness-box, how he could on oath assert such a falsehood. The miller replied, quite undaunted, and with a feeling of confidence in the right­eousness of his cause approaching the sublime --- "I would rather trust my soul in God's mercy than trust Keir's head into their hands."

A correspondent has sent me an account of a curious ebullition of Jacobite feeling and enthusiasm, now I suppose quite extinct. My correspondent received it himself from Alexander, fourth Duke of Gordon, and he had entered it in a common-place book when he heard it, in 1826.

"David Tulloch, tenant in Drumbenan, under the second and third Dukes of Gordon, had been "out" in the '45 --- or the fufteen, or both --- and was a great favourite of his respective landlords. One day David having at­tended the young Lady Susan Gordon (afterwards Duchess of Manchester) to the "Chapel" at Huntly, David, per­ceiving that her ladyship had neither hassock nor carpet to protect her garments from the earthen floor, respectfully spread his plaid for the young lady to kneel upon, and the service proceeded; but when the prayer for the King and Royal Family was commenced, David, sans ceremonie, drew, or rather "twitched," the plaid from under the knees of the astonished young lady, exclaiming not sotto voce, "The deil a ane shall pray for them on my plaid !" "

I have a still more pungent demonstration against praying for the king, which a friend in Aberdeen assures me he received from the son of the gentleman who heard the protest. In the Episcopal Chapel in Aberdeen, of which Primus John Skinner was incumbent, they com­menced praying in the service for George III. immediately on the death of Prince Charles Edward. On the first Sunday of the prayer being used, this gentleman's father, walking home with a friend whom he knew to be an old and deter­mined Jacobite, said to him, "What do you think of that, Mr. --- ?" The reply was, "Indeed, the less we say about that prayer the better." But he was pushed for "further answer as to his own views and his own ideas on the matter," so he came out with the declaration, "Weel, then, I say this --- they may pray the kenees aff their breeks afore I join in that prayer."

The following is a characteristic Jacobite story. It must have happened shortly after 1745, when all manner of devices were fallen upon to display Jacobitism, without committing the safety of the Jacobite, such as having white knots on gowns ; drinking, "The king, ye ken wha I mean.", uttering the toast "the king" with much apparent loyalty, and passing the glass on the one side of the water-jug from them, indicating the esoteric meaning of majesty beyond the sea, --- etc. etc.; and various toasts, which were most important matters in those times, and were often given as tests of loyalty, or the reverse, according to the company in which they were given. Miss Carnegy of Craigo, well known and still remembered amongst the old Montrose ladies as an uncompromising Jacobite, had been vowing that she would drink King James and his son in a company of staunch Brunswickers, and being strongly dissuaded from any such foolish and dangerous attempt by some of her friends present, she answered them with a text of Scripture, "The tongue no man can tame --- James Third and Aucht," and drank off her glass !

E. B. Ramsey, Dean of Edinburgh : Reminiscences of Scottish Life And Character

 

Hope
George Frederick Watts --- Hope

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Since Then None Of These Can Be

handbook
at 4:16 amrss (Charles I, Other Writ, Poetry, Royalism, Stuarts)

LONG in thy Shack­els, liber­ty,
I ask not from these walls, but thee ;
Left for a while anoth­ers Bride,
To fancy all the world beside.

Yet e’re I do begin to love,
See ! How I all my objects prove ;
Then my free Soule to that con­fine,
‘Twere pos­sible I might call mine.

First I would be in love with Peace,
And her rich swell­ing breasts increase ;
But how alas ! how may that be,
Des­pising Earth, she will love me ?

Faine would I be in love with War,
As my deare Just aven­ging star ;
But War is loved so ev’ry where,
Ev’n He dis­daines a Lodging here.

Thee and thy wounds I would bemoane
Faire thorough-shot Reli­gion ;
But he lives only that kills thee,
And who so bind­es thy hands, is free.

I would love a Par­lia­ment
As a maine Prop from Heav’n sent ;
But ah ! Who’s he that would be wed­ded
To th’ fairest body that’s beheaded ?

Next would I court my Liber­ty,
And then my Birth-right, Prop­er­ty ;
But can that be, when it is knowne
There’s noth­ing you can call your owne ?

A Reform­a­tion I would have,
As for our griefes a Sov’raigne salve ;
That is, a cleans­ing of each wheele
Of State, that yet some rust doth feele :

But not a Reform­a­tion so,
As to reforme were to ore’throw ;
Like Watches by unskil­full men
Dis­joyn­ted, and set ill againe.

The Pub­lick Faith I would adore,
But she is banke-rupt of her store ;
Nor how to trust her can I see,
For she that couzens all, must me.

Since then none of these can be
Fit objects for my Love and me ;
What then remaines, but th’ only spring
Of all our loves and joyes ? The KING.

He who being the whole Ball
Of Day on Earth, lends it to all ;
When seek­ing to ecclipse his right,
Blinded, we stand in our owne light.

And now an uni­ver­sall mist
Of Error is spread or’e each breast,
With such a fury edg’d, as is
Not found in th’ inwards of th’ Abysse.

Oh from thy glor­i­ous Starry Waine
Dis­pense on me one sac­red Beame
To light me where I soone may see
How to serve you, and you trust me.

Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta, from Pris­on — An Epode.

 
Pursued

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Towards The Wintry Sea

Come hither, Evan Cameron !
Come, stand beside my knee ---
I hear the river roaring down
Towards the wintry sea.
There's shouting on the mountain side,
There's war within the blast ---
Old faces look upon me,
Old forms go trooping past.
I hear the pibroch wailing
Amidst the din of fight,
And my dim spirit wakes again
Upon the verge of night !

'Twas I that led the Highland host
Through wild Lochaber's snows,
What time the plaided clans came down
To battle with Montrose.
I've told thee how the Southrons fell
Beneath the broad claymore,
And how we smote the Campbell clan
By Inverlochy's shore.
I've told thee how we swept Dundee,
And tamed the Lindsay's pride;
But never have I told thee yet
How the Great Marquis died !

A traitor sold him to his foes;
O deed of deathless shame !
I charge thee, boy, if e'er thou meet
With one of Assynt's name ---
Be it upon the mountain's side,
Or yet within the glen,
Stand he in martial gear alone,
Or backed by armed men ---
Face him, as thou wouldst face the man
Who wronged thy sire's renown;
Remember of what blood thou art,
And strike the caitiff down !

They brought him to the Watergate,
Hard bound with hempen span,
As though they held a lion there,
And not a 'fenceless man.
They set him high upon a cart ---
The hangman rode below ---
They drew his hands behind his back,
And bared his noble brow.
Then, as a hound is slipped from leash,
They cheered the common throng,
And blew the note with yell and shout,
And bade him pass along.

It would have made a brave man's heart
Grow sad and sick that day,
To watch the keen malignant eyes
Bent down on that array.
There stood the Whig west-country lords
In balcony and bow,
There sat their gaunt and withered dames,
And their daughters all a-row;
And every open window
Was full as full might be,
With black-robed Covenanting carles,
That goodly sport to see !

But when he came, though pale and wan,
He looked so great and high,
So noble was his manly front,
So calm his steadfast eye; ---
The rabble rout forebore to shout,
And each man held his breath,
For well they knew the hero's soul
Was face to face with death.
And then a mournful shudder
Through all the people crept,
And some that came to scoff at him,
Now turn'd aside and wept.

But onwards --- always onwards,
In silence and in gloom,
The dreary pageant labor’d,
Till it reach’d the house of doom.
Then first a woman’s voice was heard
In jeer and laughter loud,
And an angry cry and a hiss arose
From the heart of the tossing crowd:
Then as the Græme look’d upwards,
He saw the ugly smile
Of him who sold his king for gold,
The master-fiend Argyle !

The Marquis gaz’d a moment,
And nothing did he say,
But the cheek of Argyle grew ghastly pale
And he turn’d his eyes away.
The painted harlot by his side,
She shook through every limb,
For a roar like thunder swept the street,
And hands were clench’d at him;
And a Saxon soldier cried aloud,
“Back, coward, from thy place !
For seven long years thou hast not dar’d
To look him in the face.”

Had I been there with sword in hand,
And fifty Camerons by,
That day through high Dunedin's streets,
Had pealed the slogan cry.
Not all their troops of trampling horse,
Nor might of mailed men ---
Not all the rebels of the south
Had borne us backwards then !
Once more his foot on Highland heath
Had trod as free as air,
Or I, and all who bore my name,
Been laid around him there !

It might not be. They placed him next
Within the solemn hall,
Where once the Scottish Kings were throned
Amidst their nobles all.
But there was dust of vulgar feet
On that polluted floor,
And perjured traitors filled the place
Where good men sate before.
With savage glee came Warristoun
To read the murderous doom,
And then uprose the great Montrose
In the middle of the room.

"Now by my faith as belted knight,
And by the name I bear,
And by the bright Saint Andrew's cross
That waves above us there ---
Yea, by a greater, mightier oath ---
And oh, that such should be ! ---
By that dark stream of royal blood
That lies 'twixt you and me ---
I have not sought in battle-field
A wreath of such renown,
Nor dared I hope, on my dying day,
To win the martyr's crown !"

"There is a chamber far away
Where sleep the good and brave,
But a better place ye have named for me
Than by my father's grave.
For truth and right, 'gainst treason's might,
This hand hath always striven,
And ye raise it up for a witness still
In the eye of earth and heaven.
Then nail my head on yonder tower ---
Give every town a limb ---
And God who made shall gather them:
I go from you to Him !"

The morning dawn’d full darkly,
The rain came flashing down,
And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt
Lit up the gloomy town:
The thunder crash’d across the heaven,
The fatal hour was come;
Yet aye broke in with muffled beat
The ’larum of the drum.
There was madness on the earth below
And anger in the sky,
And young and old, and rich and poor,
Came forth to see him die.

Ah, God ! that ghastly gibbet !
How dismal ’tis to see
The great tall spectral skeleton,
The ladder and the tree !
Hark ! hark ! it is the clash of arms ---
The bells begin to toll ---
“He is coming! he is coming!
God’s mercy on his soul !”
One last long peal of thunder:
The clouds are clear’d away,
And the glorious sun once more looks down
Amidst the dazzling day.

“He is coming ! he is coming !”
Like a bridegroom from his room,
Came the hero from his prison
To the scaffold and the doom.
There was glory on his forehead,
There was lustre in his eye,
And he never walk’d to battle
More proudly than to die:
There was color in his visage,
Though the cheeks of all were wan,
And they marvell’d as they saw him pass,
That great and goodly man !

He mounted up the scaffold,
And he turn’d him to the crowd;
But they dar’d not trust the people,
So he might not speak aloud.
But he look’d upon the heavens,
And they were clear and blue,
And in the liquid ether
The eye of God shone through;
Yet a black and murky battlement
Lay resting on the hill,
As though the thunder slept within ---
All else was calm and still.

The grim Geneva ministers
With anxious scowl drew near,
As you have seen the ravens flock
Around the dying deer.
He would not deign them word nor sign,
But alone he bent the knee;
And veiled his face for Christ's dear grace
Beneath the gallows-tree.
Then radiant and serene he rose,
And cast his cloak away:
For he had ta'en his latest look
Of earth, and sun, and day.

A beam of light fell o'er him,
Like a glory round the shriven,
And he climbed the lofty ladder
As it were the path to heaven.
Then came a flash from out the cloud,
And a stunning thunder roll,
And no man dared to look aloft,
For fear was on every soul.
There was another heavy sound,
A hush and then a groan;
And darkness swept across the sky ---
The work of death was done !

William Edmondstoune Aytoun : The Execution of Montrose

 

Descending Night Sculpture
Adolph Alexander Weinman --- Descending Night

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Wies’n  —  Towards The Bright Uplands

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(High Germany, Places, Self Writ, Stuarts)

Ocktoberfest is upon us --- begun in commemoration of the nuptials of that prince who was to be crowned Ludwig I, as fully interesting a monarch as Ludwig II, as not only did he disdain Napoleon; give a fifth of his income to people in want; and introduce the Athenic ideal into the composition of München, but had an excellent affair with the charming, but tiresome Lola.

 

Ludwig I
Ludwig I

Lola Montez
Lola Montez

 
Since my King, the present Head of the House of Stuart, is also Head of the House of Wittelsbach, I feel drawn to this event; yet I'm guessing that the entire dislike of beer might be rather a drawback.

 
Ocktoberfest

Ocktoberfest

Ocktoberfest

 
[ More available at the site above. ]

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In The Kingdom Of God

handbook
at 11:00 pmrss (Charles I, Correctitude, Other Writ, Royalism, Stuarts)

Hobbes, in the first place, is not here arguing for one form of government more than for another. He prefers monarchy; but his special point is that in every form, monarchic, aristocratic, or democratic, there must be a "sovereign” --- an ultimate, supreme and single authority. Men, he says, admit the claim of a popular State to “absolute dominion,” but object to the claim of a king, though he has the same power and is not more likely, for reasons given, to abuse it. The doctrine which he really opposes is that of a “mixed government.” As “some doctors” hold that there are three souls in one man, others hold that there can be more souls than one in a commonwealth. That is virtually implied when they say that “the power of levying money, which is the nutritive faculty,” depends on a "general assembly”; the “power of conduct and command, which is the motive faculty, on one man; and the power of making laws, which is the rational faculty, on the accidental consent, not only of those two last, but of a third”: this is called “mixed monarchy.” “In truth it is not one independent commonwealth, but three independent factions; nor one representative person but three. In the Kingdom of God there may be three persons independent without breach of unity in God that reigneth; but where men reign that be subject to diversity of opinions, it cannot be so. And therefore if the king bear the person of the people, the general assembly bear the person of the people, and another assembly bear the person of a part of the people, they are not one person, nor one sovereign, but three persons and three sovereigns.” That is to say, the political, like the animal organism, is essentially a unit. So far as there is not somewhere a supreme authority, there is anarchy or a possibility of anarchy. The application to Hobbes’s own times is obvious. The king, for example, has a right to raise ship-money in case of necessity. But who has a right to decide the question of necessity ? If the king, he could raise taxes at pleasure. If the parliament, the king becomes only their pensioner. At the bottom it was a question of sovereignty, and Hobbes, holding the king to be sovereign, holds that Hampden showed “an ignorant impatience of taxation.” “Mark the oppression ! A parliament man of £500 a year, land-taxed 20s.” Hampden was refusing to contribute to his own defence. "All men are by nature provided of notable multiplying glasses, through which every little payment appeareth a great grievance.” Parliament remonstrated against arbitrary imprisonment, the Star Chamber, and so forth; but it was their own fault that the king had so to act. Their refusal to give money “put him ( the king ) upon those extraordinary ways, which they call illegal, of raising money at home.” The experience of the Civil War, he says in the Leviathan, has so plainly shown the mischief of dividing the rights of the sovereign that few men in England fail to see that they should be inseparable and should be so acknowledged “at the next return of peace.”

Men did in fact come to acknowledge it though not for some generations, and then by virtually transferring sovereignty from the king to the parliament. A confused state of mind in the interval was implied in the doctrine which long prevailed, of the importance of a division between the legislative, executive, and judicial powers, and in the doctrine that the British constitution represented a judicious mixture of the three elements, aristocracy, monarchy, and democracy, whose conflicts were regulated by an admirable system of checks and balances. Whatever truth may have been expressed in such theories, they were erroneous so far as inconsistent with Hobbes’s doctrine. A division of the governmental functions is of course necessary, and different classes should be allowed to exercise an influence upon the State. But the division of functions must be consistent with the recognition of a single authority which can regulate and correlate their powers; and a contest between classes, which do not in some way recognise a sovereign arbitrator, leads to civil war or revolution. Who is the sovereign, for example, was the essential question which in the revolt of the American colonies, and in the secession of the Southern States had to be answered by bullets. So long as that question is open, there is a condition of unstable equilibrium or latent anarchy. The State, as Hobbes puts it, should have only one soul, or as we may say, the political organism should have the unity corresponding to a vital principle.

The unity of the Leviathan seemed to imply arbitrary power. Since the king had the power of the sword, said Hobbes, he must also have the power of the purse. The logic might be good, but might be applied the other way. The true Englishman was determined not to pay the money till he knew how it was to be spent; and complained of a loss of liberty if it was taken by force. Hobbes’s reply to this is very forcible and clears his position. He agreed with Johnson that the cry for liberty was cant. What he asks, in his De Cive, is meant by liberty ? If an exemption from the laws, it can exist in no government whatever. If it consist in having few laws, and only those such as are necessary to peace, there is no more liberty in a democracy than in a monarchy. What men really demand is not liberty but “dominion.” People are deceived because in a democracy they have a greater share in public offices or in choosing the officers. It does not follow that they have more liberty in the sense of less law. Hobbes was putting his finger upon an ambiguity which has continued to flourish. Liberty may either mean that a man is not bound by law or that he is only bound by laws which he has made ( or shared in making ) himself. We are quite aware at the present day that a democracy may use the liberty, which in one sense it possesses, by making laws which are inconsistent with liberty in the other sense.

Leslie Stephen : English Men of Letters --- Hobbes

Sir Leslie Stephen was, of course, the author of Virginia Woolf, but we mustn't hold that against him.

 

Portrait Charles the First

John Millais --- Charles I and his Son in the Studio of Van Dyck

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Six Pack

A pun­ish­ment used exclus­ively by the IRA in which enemies or trait­ors of the IRA are shot with six bul­lets. Two bul­lets to the elbows, two bul­lets to the knee­caps, and two bul­lets to the ankles. This form of pun­ish­ment can render the vic­tim almost com­pletely immob­ile for the rest of their lives.

This comes under the cat­egory The Enemy ( defined as should be obvi­ous as sentimentality-in-the-world-view ) because it exem­pli­fies the repul­sion of seek­ing to com­mit cruelty and suf­fer­ing either or both for the sake of grat­i­fied mania or ideo­lo­gic­al self-rightousness ( which includes over-religious fan­at­icism ). Killing is one thing: depend­ing on one’s type, it may affect the act­or, or not, physiolo­gic­ally and psych­ic­ally  —  not that it makes the faintest dif­fer­ence to the deed  —  but if done speedily and cour­teously, it is over.  —  Dark Eileen’s Dirge on the death of her hus­band indic­ates there are con­sequences for those left, and either laws or ven­det­tas may also impose oth­er con­sequences; yet again, it is a done sin­gu­lar action in itself.

Inter­rog­at­ive tor­ture has many per­suas­ive advoc­ates: I am not per­suaded that it is inef­fect­ive, as sup­posed by those who argue that people will say any­thing, since many have with­stood through pure obstin­acy for even the most fool­ish of causes. James I & VI idly remarked on the mar­tyr­dom of one burnt De Hæretico Com­buren­do for athe­ism in his new King­dom of England after being trans­lated down south from a realm where this pun­ish­ment did not exist, except for witch­craft  —  although con­versely tor­ture was then leg­al in Scot­land, but not in England, whil­st witches in England were hung and not burnt  —  that he could not have truly believed in noth­ing, oth­er­wise he would not have chosen to die for it.
[ This law was ori­gin­ally passed  —  illeg­ally, as the Lan­castri­an usurper was on the throne : he owed the Papacy a favour for recog­nising his theft —  to stop the pos­ses­sion of bib­les in the ver­nacu­lar, which would make for inter­est­ing res­ults if revived in Amer­ica today. ]
How­ever, it, tor­ture, per­suas­ive or oth­er­wise is just inad­miss­able. Even more so if it works and gains real bene­fits, simply and solely because it is wrong.

Yet even tor­ture may fail at being sen­ti­ment­ally inspired, although usu­ally the impulses behind the rationales may be assumed as such  —  even espe­cially if one looks at the rather spe­cious scen­ari­os of apo­ca­lyptic­al dis­aster offered by it’s apo­lo­gists: the mother/child/grandparent who will die; the armies that will be slaughtered; the clouds of gas which will engulf the cit­izenry; unless, unless we steel ourselves to take ‘strong meas­ures’. But it may be unenthu­si­ast­ic­ally accep­ted that it the­or­et­ic­ally could be pos­sible to have tor­ture without pleas­ure taken.

The impos­i­tion of suf­fer­ing though, in the deed of killing, and worse, the leav­ing of a life in suf­fer­ing, is bey­ond all. For that there can be nev­er for­give­ness, and one must be enjoined to hate the doers bey­ond death. Cer­tainly one should hate them coldly and without pas­sion, yet it is a betray­al of the self to weakly set aside vile­ness, no mat­ter if or how they repent: because repent­ance is owed by them to God; and their rela­tion­ship with Him need not con­cern you, being a private arrange­ment between two oth­er parties.

 
WingedLion

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An Everlasting Slavery

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(Correctitude, Other Writ, Poetry, Royalism, Stuarts)

Curs'd be the Papists, who withdrew
The King to their persuasion
Curs'd be that covenanting crew,
Who gave the first occasion.
Curs'd be the wretch who seiz'd the throne
And marr'd our constitution.

And curs'd be they who helped on
That wicked revolution
Curs'd be those traitorous traitors who
By their perfidious knavery
Have brought our nation now into
An everlasting slavery.
Curs'd be the parliament, that day
Who gave their confirmation
And curs'd be every whining Whig
And damned be the whole nation.

Fr: James Hogg's 'The Jacobite Relics of Scotland'

Black Bird

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Disdain In Perfection

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at 9:42 pmrss (Charles I, Correctitude, Other Writ, Royalism, Stuarts)

The King, in his answer, declined to sur­render him­self, his coun­try and his friends. When his answer was ready it was sent to Den­bigh and the oth­er Com­mis­sion­ers sealed up. This they objec­ted to, say­ing it was not fit for them to receive an answer without being acquain­ted with the con­tents.

The King replied, “What is that to you, who are but to carry what I send ? and if I will send the song of Robin Hood and Little John you must carry it.”

Wine­fride Elwes : The Feild­ing Album

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