The reign of James II and the Glorious Revolution was a central part of the national story built by Whig historians. But since the 20th century the picture has been heavily revised with new perspectives, such as the view from all three kingdoms, a more nuanced view of James and his intentions, criticisms of the idea of a bloodless revolution, how much the voice of the people mattered – and was it a Revolution at all? Or a conserative assertion of ancient right? This episode is about James and the historiography Glorious Revolution.

 

Download Podcast - 449 King James II of Great Britain (Right Click and select Save Link As)

 

Transcript

Well now, this is exciting! We start out now on the story of the reign of James Stuart, and what is known to the English as the Glorious Revolution – though not necessarily to the Scots and certainly not the Irish. Although of course we’ve already started with the roots of that story with the Exclusion Brouhaha in Charles reign, but it seems imminent now. So this then, is my introduction to the historiography of James’ reign, the Glorious Revolution and the period ahead; and it is, of course, impossible to avoid plot spoilers when talking historiography, so if you don’t want to spoil the tension – turn away now.

I was brought up in what I realise now was a pretty Whiggish household, where the GR was very obviously a Good Thing, and not only with capitals, but also brass knobs and fairy lights that twinkle on and off. I mean obviously it was; we saw off a monarch attempting to erase our freedom in the name of Absolutism,  and we were not having any of that, not on you nellie or any other part of your anatomy for that matter, it was the basis of our parliamentary democracy – the removal of an absolutist monarch, his replacement by a monarch restricted by clearly articulated limitations enshrined in the Bill of Rights, which was part of a golden thread that led from Magna Carta to the joy of modern party politics and free speech. Oh – and religious toleration too. And, and, and – without a shot fired! Completely bloodless apart from James porter who cut a finger carrying his bags over to France, which meant we avoided all the nasty death and destruction of the French revolution. That was my inherited view.

So it interested me to learn just how contested that interpretation was in the past – and indeed still is. I read a book by Edward Vallance, and he very cleverly introduced the various strands of the differing view of the GR, by talking about a debate in parliament in 1988 in the days of Maggie Thatcher. It was about whether to send an official address to the Queen about celebrating the tercentenary of the events of 1688-9. Well it sounds like a fascinating debate, and very well informed. The Thatch saw it very much in Whiggish terms as I have just described; actually I remember very well an occasion, maybe the following year – when the French were celebrating their revolution, when she did a famously aggressive and undiplomatic put down on the lines of, what is all the fuss about, what took you so long we’d had our revolution 150 years before. Sweet.

 

 

 

 

So at the debate about a loyal address to the Queen, Conservative MPs queued up to repeat that message, that it opened the door to the expansion of commerce, our international influence and empire – and wasn’t it all great. Well, Neil Kinnock, the labour leader, started the other alternatives by saying it was rather a fudge really, between Whig and Tory to avoid going through the civil wars all over again; and the only reason it succeeded was because William of Orange needed the resources of the Three Kingdoms to fight his wars with Louis XIV. Though he did agree with Thatcher in quoting A J P Taylor describing it as

The foundation of our liberty

His more lefty colleagues weren’t having even that though. For a starter, they said that John Locke shouldn’t be taken as was a lodestone of the GR; his ideas of natural rights and liberty were quite new and different to the traditional views most would have believed in when resisting James at the time. Locke’s idea of liberty was the ability to do what you liked without interference from others, as long as you did stray into the License to harm others. That had surfaced with the Putney Debates and the Agreement of the People. For most though at the time though, it was argued, the plural is more appropriate – ‘Liberties’. i.e. specific rights, privileges and freedoms granted by or wrested from the Monarch. Tony Benn pointed out there was nothing bloodless about what happened in Ireland. Eric Heffer called it neither glorious nor a revolution, suggesting nothing really changed, this was just a palace coup, nothing to do with the people, and not changing much at all. Jezza Corbyn when full Marxist, saying it was just a plot by the landowning classes to enhance their power, and paved the way for colonialism, Imperialism and slavery. And a historian might well have pointed out that the idea of liberty is tricky, liberty for whom and in what sense.

The humble address was presented as a result of the debate, and does make interesting reading, it’s on the UK Parliament website.

There are a load of themes there. Did the GR change anything fundamental, or was it a conservative revolution to re-establish the past in the face of royal innovation from Charles I, Charles II and James II? Was this just a spat between elites that wouldn’t even have succeeded without the invasion of a foreign army, not a genuine popular revolution, were the people involved at all even? It could be seen a purely dynastic affair – simply swapping one monarch for another. And isn’t this just an English revolution imposed on the other home nations with varying levels of violence?

 

 

 

In the immediate aftermath of 1689, the debate focussed very much on what seems like an irrelevant detail, but was crucial for it to succeed. Had James abdicated the throne, to be replaced according to a slightly kinky hereditary succession; or had he broken his contract and been removed by the people? This is the fudge Kinnock was referring to. Because Tories believed in the church of England and the absolute sanctity of the divinely ordained hereditary succession. Any suggestion of the whig philosophy of resistance, enhanced by their adoption of Locke’s ideas of the social contract, would make it impossible for Tories to square the revolution with their consciences and the unconditional loyalty they owed their divinely appointed monarch. And so it was decided he’d abdicated, so there was a vacancy. I mean, the natural reaction these days is to say ‘Dude were you actually even there?’, and indeed some could not accept even this version of events, and would become Jacobites, aiming to restore the rightful monarch. But it was fudge that allowed the majority to just get on with the their lives. For these people, there was no question anything revolutionary had happened – this was just a re-assertion of the ancient constitution – a constitution based on the King in Parliament, established in the reign of Henry VIII. For the Whigs, of course, they went on believing that what had really happened was the exercise of their right to resist tyranny.

After the arrival of the Hanoverians, and the establishment of a long Whig Oligarchy, the Whigs began to find the idea of Resistance theory a bit uncomfortable. Because it might just be used to apply to them now, rather than a monarch, and so even they dumped the idea of resistance. And they returned to the fudge – the Revolution had been achieved by the cowardly flight of James, and the clever old parliament had maintained order, called in a new monarch called William and replaced the old with a new, better constitution than ever before – better even than the fabled Anglo Saxons. It was a constitutional year zero. Then the Tory Viscount Bolingbroke came along, and gilded that story by re-positioning the events of 1688 not as the actions of the one or either faction, but a joint effort by both. He did this actually for political reasons – he was saying the Hanoverian Robinocracy was the new arbitrary government which Whig and Tory must both resist.

That takes us to the later 18^th century and the appearance of much more revolutionary movements – the American and French. Which led to Burke, and his belief in an evolutionary, organic constitution, in tune with the national human spirit and changing only as required by that. So the GR was an adjustment, an evolutionary change in line with the national zeitgeist. Moreover, as another writer put it in 1796, it had nothing to do with the people, this evolution was achieved because

‘parliament sat quietly and voted independently, what necessity demanded…when a mob presumed to interpose….King William…would not accept a sceptre from such mean hands

So – not a popular revolution, not even an evolution of the people.

This became the staple approach until the middle of 20^th century; thought there were refinements along the way. Historians like MacCauley and Trevelyan presented it as a sensible revolution, designed around consensus to satisfy both Whigs and Tories, which was bloodless, and created a constitutional monarchy such as the Late Victorians would recognise. It emphasised the importance of the Bill of Rights, as a document which completed the work of Magna Carta, and that William had been forced to give way to the will of parliament. It was almost certainly Glorious, but it was also a conservative revolution.

I like the sound of those days, they must have been comfortable, but then the Marxists like Christopher Hill brought class into it; talking of two 17^th century revolutions – one ‘unwilled’ – the civil wars – and the other ‘willed’ by the social elites, the rising bourgeoisie. They were joined by the Revisionists like J P Kenyon – who in his declining years was head of his History at St Andrews while I was there. He essentially poo poo’d the Whig story; the revolution had changed little beyond the line of succession. They emphasised the role of William in making it happen at all, and Jonathan Israel and John Miller emphasised the military element; it needed William’s invasion to wreck James policies. They argue that the Revolution monarchy was not based on written limitations but on trust – and that the ideas of John Locle were very much outliers which did not drive the settlement. They minimised the importance of the Toleration Act – the Anglican church de facto maintained its supremacy and control. However, they did agree with Trevelyan’s ‘sensible revolution’ and Hill, to the extent that they agree this is an elite revolution – nothing to do with the masses.

So the debates continue; there has been something of a reaction, which is the way of these things. Revisionist is followed by counter revisionist, counter revisionist by counter counter revisionist, to the movement who says they all had it pretty much right originally and all that.  These days the role of Religion sits in centre stage, although religion never really went away, and William Speck argues that the revolution was more an act of self preservation by elites than a desire for radical change. Vallance argues against the idea that it was bloodless; and Tim Harris joins him in that, especially by emphasising that this again was very much an event of the Three Kingdoms. Harris also argues against the traditional idea that the Revolution was an English thing simply imported into Scotland, that it had its own Scottish roots, flavour and outcomes. Much more focus now is placed on the importance of popular opinion, of the mass petitions, street protests and public debate, and the need to manage public opinion – which we have already seen Charles doing from 1681. And there are many more voices now arguing once more than the Revolution has a significant impact; Stephen Pincus, and the Economists North & Weingast argue that it is the freedoms, toleration and guarantee of property inherent in the Revolution that fuel British enterprise and commercial expansion. Note to self – I really have not talked enough about the English focus on property, the idea that if some power can just come and take your money and property, there is no incentive to invest and build. Must do better.

One more point to make though, is that this is not the end of the Revolutionary period. I say this because we have this thing for Members called Dispatches; members  can write in, ask me anything except my shoe size, and I will try to answer sensibly and coherently without repetition, hesitation or deviation. Mr Humbug, whose name I suspect but do not know is Thomas, challenged a statement I made suggesting 1689/90 completes the revolutionary period of the 1640s and 50s. He is right to challenge me. It does to some extent – many of the issues are the same and some reach resolution – but Jacobitism will remain a powerful force especially in Scotland until 1746, and the prospect of different monarchs north and south of the border is a major contributor to the Union of England and Wales with Scotland in 1707.

That brings us I think to James himself – or at least I think it does, and to be fair it is my party. Because the man who is announced James II in February 1685 and his motivations, intentions, character and policies is of course at the very centre of all of this. Incidentally, cue Scottish complaints that this is James II and VII, but no! William Speck enlightened me on that, since it appears that James did not style himself James VII at all – he was James II, and even coins struck in Edinburgh just use James II – because as far as he was concerned, just like his grandfather, he was king of Great Britain, second of that name. Which rather emphasises the importance of a Three Kingdoms perspective. Anyway – James. I’ll not be stubborn and use VII and II from now on.

Now, many moons ago – and I mean many – I was a member of a historical book club which gave you deep discounts, as long as you bought a certain number of them every month. Well, I got behind and so just had to buy books I was probably never going to read, but liked the look of, and so I have ended up with a venerable old series of textbooks, the Oxford History of England. All these decades later, they are all there in a line on the bookshelf, hardback books in the same, handsome livery – with a substantial dust layer. I love them actually they are very old school – super, super detailed indexes and contents list, fold out maps and genealogy tables and all that. Not everything new is progress.

Anyway one of them, on the Later Stuarts, was originally written in 1934 by a very eminent historian, Sir George Clark, and I was curious as to how he dealt with James, given the society he was part of probably looked at events of the past through a different lens, and he started the reign of James II of Great Britain with this:

‘If tragedy is the story of a man…whose sufferings are due to his virtues as well as to his vices, then the reign of James II was tragic’.

This is very interesting I thought, because it reflects that views of James’ himself are full of debate, particularly about his motivation; was he attempting to impose a Catholic style Absolutism?  Or was  he simply endowing the Three Kingdoms with a great gift that would have avoided a lot of bloodshed and persecution – genuine religious equality and liberty of conscience? Did he ever have a realistic chance of succeeding – or was he doomed to failure – one historian was so negative, he even figured James was suffering from premature mental decline. Or was he in fact well on the way to getting what he wanted, and unless there had been foreign military intervention he’d have got away with it.

We have been with James for some time, you and I, so he’s not new to us. What we have seen so far is a man who is physically brave – perfectly happy to deal with exploding heads and cannon balls flying around. He saw a lot of military service under Louis before taking over as Lord Admiral of the navy until the Test Acts saw to that. He has shown his decisiveness, both in the military and in the Great Fire in 1666. James’s self-image was all about strength and decisiveness, a warrior prince devoted to defending the welfare of his subjects.

We’ve seen from his military campaigns that he is used to command, and to obedience. This will be a feature, a bit like his Dad actually; he was far too quick to see difference of opinion as simply disobedience, not the result of principled disagreement or due political process; he will complain at one stage that those opposing him had been

deceived by some ill men who fill their ears with fears’

What he expected, was to make decisions, and his officers and troops to then do as was ordered – the give and take of politics thing wasn’t instinctive to him. I am put in mind of the famous quote about the Duke of Wellington who became PM in 1828. He held his first cabinet meeting, after which he was heard to say in the bar

An extraordinary affair. I gave them their orders and they wanted to stay and discuss them.

It is also generally agreed that James was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He suffered in that way by comparison with his brother, as the Duke of Buckingham pointed out when James was the Duke of York

The king could see things if he would; the Duke would see things if he could

Gilbert Burnet noted that the judgement

Was more severe because it was true.

Gilbert Burnet, by the way, is a constant companion though the years of the later Stuarts. He was born in 1643 in Edinburgh, and grew to be a valued adviser to the Duke of Lauderdale; with whom he fell out, and moved to England. He was a typical Enlightenment polymath – a natural philosopher and historian. He is often very close to events and knows the players well, including William and Mary, and will become Bishop of Salisbury after the Revolution.  He was a voracious gatherer of information, which is good because he was also a writer. He’d write a lot of pamphlets and philosophical works – and he’d write a history – Bishop Burnet’s History of His Own Time. He was consciously influenced by Clarendon’s history of the Rebellion, but he’s more partial even than Clarendon, very much a fan of the supremacy of the Church of England, but also relatively tolerant, a Latitudinarian. The History goes from James I until 1713, and is mined by historians for information for the years he lived through. Just so you know who Burnet is when I mention him.

Even James’ mistresses, then, recognised his lack of quick intellect and mental flexibility. James was not as promiscuous as his brother, but famously had a Mistress with a very sharp wit, Catherine Sedley, whom he met in his wife’s household. Her famous quote, wondering what James saw in her, went

It cannot be my beauty for he must see I have none. And it cannot be my wit, for he has not enough to know that I have any.

In that, as an aside, Charles – also very famously – remarked that none of James’ mistresses were lookers, and that they must have been imposed on him by his Confessor as a penance. Which is witty but mean, which is Charles all over. But just how different attitudes to the mistresses were at the time, came home to me when I learn that another of James’ mistresses was Arabella Churchill, the sister of John Churchill – soon to be super famous, England’s most talented general and all that. According to Macauley, when Arabella’s Dad found out about her liaison, his reaction

seems to have been a joyful surprise that so plain a girl had attained such high preferment

But we are talking Macauley here. Might be a story to be taken with a pinch of salt.

Anyway, James, so, brave, military, decisive, not the sharpest knife in the drawer, a man who expected obedience, And rather like his Dad, very constant in his ideas and beliefs, and not flexible. The Duke of Lauderdale remarked that he

Had all the weaknesses of his father, without his strengthS

And given Charles I’s record that is not a great recommendation. And one of those principles is one that will concern us over the next four years; his attitude to his religion.

As very a papist as the pope

Wrote Lauderdale. James was a man  who firmly believed the Pope was the highest authority in the world. As indeed he wrote in a letter, his belief in the Catholic church was based on its antiquity and the apostolic succession, and therefore it’s infallibility. He was essentially fanatically religious

‘If occasion were, I hope God would give me his grace to suffer death for the true Catholic religion as well as banishment’

He wrote to a friend. Lauderdale again wrote that he would risk anything

To shine in a red letter

Meaning to achieve Catholic sainthood. Which is a hoot, because I did know until this very moment the origin of the phrase ‘red letter day’ – the practice of writing saints days in the calendar in red. Though I suspect there are other interpretations. The things you learn.

So fanatically Catholic, that sounds like a red flag day, open and shut case. And a believer in providence to boot, a man with a mission.

‘T’was the divine Providence that…ordered it so that I passed most of the twelve years I was abroad in Catholic kingdoms, by which means I came to know what their religion was’

When exclusion against him had failed, he went all Maradonna in 1986 and rather than see in it the hand of his brother, he declared it to be

‘the hand of God’

Still, Peter Shilton should have had that ball anyway I suppose.

But here’s the kicker; most historians agree that James was also genuine in his belief in toleration. He felt it would be good for his kingdom, he was not a persecuter, he believed toleration would encourage commercial enterprise

‘Be not persuaded by any to depart from that; our blessed Saviour whipt people out of the Temple, but I never heard he commanded any should be forced into it’.[1]

However; utterly convinced as he was by the rightness of the church, he also expected that the result of toleration would inevitably be the triumph of Catholicism, and

many conversions will ensue’

Success would be inevitable, all he had to do is provide the push. And a further feature of James was his self-confidence; to the point of recklessness in the view of one historian, complete confidence that everything would work out, whether in religion, government or war.

One last thing; James may or may not have been an absolutist – I’ll ask you that question in 1689 if you are still around – but he was firmly convinced in the rights &* power of the crown, and as Speck puts it

‘James was determined to be king indeed and to rule as well as reign’

I might remind you of his own analysis to Charles in the midst of the Exclusion brouhaha

‘matters were come to such a head that the monarchy must be either more absolute or quite abolished’[2]

His role as the lord of New York might be an interesting test case.  Certainly his supporter William Penn thought the way James approached the government of New York when it came into his gift as Duke of York in the 1670s, was a model for him

‘if the Crown should ever devolve upon his head’

The so called ‘Duke’s laws’ made no mention of an assembly or even town meetings; and when he received complaints about the arbitrary nature of his rule he refused to give way, because

‘of dangerous consequence, nothing being more known than the aptness of such bodies to assume to themselves many privileges which prove destructive to, or very oft disturb, the peace of the government wherein they are allowed’

Well, well. Not until he needed money did an Assembly appear in 1683 – and then it implemented freedom of religion – to which, significantly, James assented.

nough, I think that’s a good enough picture for you, let’s get to the accession of James II of Great Britain to his three kingdoms. I might just very quickly remind you of where we ended up. In Ireland, despite the disappointments of the Restoration settlement, a sort of equilibrium had been achieved. I mean none of the underlying issues had been resolved, but throughout the reign, the experienced Duke of Ormonde, the king’s Lieutenant for much of his reign, had been able to deliver loyalty, peace, and some useful revenue. In Scotland, the monarchy had been very firmly established through the offices of the Duke of Lauderdale, and despite the often brutal repression of the Covenanters and Presbyterians, the political elite had fallen over themselves to enhance royal power, to the point where Lauderdale could smugly remark that nowhere else was Charles’ rule so absolute. And indeed James had rather covered himself in glory in two stints of control there;

‘We all remember with joy how well…by what easily and gentle ways he brought about the establishment of … unity’

wrote the Lord Chancellor of Scotland at the time.

In England of course things had been really tricky, touch and go until 1681 where Charles had abandoned his policy of working with all sides, and even playing one off against the other, and had decided to go Full Fat Danby. You were right Danners he said to himself. Forget toleration, those Dissenters are basically rebels by another name, Dad had nailed it – sorry I ever doubted you Pops. Sainted Pops that is. Those Anglican Tories, they are my jam. Whigs and Dissenters were systematically excluded from positions of power, at all levels. Charles recognised and learned from how well Shaftesbury had mobilised popular opinion, and realised that the voice of the people had made a real difference. And so he responded in kind – he made public declarations to be read from every pulpit, street processions, elicited loyal addresses, and let Rottweiler L’Estrange off the leash in publishing pro Tory articles and cracking down on whig pamphleteers and printers. It was a stunningly successful strategy. Charles called no parliaments in the last four years of his reign, because he had plenty of income and dirty money from Louis, and so he went for personal; rule just like his old Dad. But if he had called a parliament – you would guess it would have been a repeat of the Cavalier parliament of 1660, possibly with added brass knobs & twinkly fairy lights.

Now that’s not to say that people weren’t nervous in England and Wales about the accession; this was a Catholic monarch coming to power in a deeply protestant country, this could be the signal for a Whig or Republican uprising. Precautions were put in place; the ports were closed, known troublemakers were arrested. But in the event it went swimmingly, it was all an absolute dream, no monarch could have wished for better; there wasn’t a hint of trouble, loyal addresses flooded in from all three kingdoms. Though you might note that there’s an edge to some of them. The Bishop of London Henry Compton already had a complicated relationship with James. He sent in a fulsome address from his diocese, but which included the phrase that it was all based on

‘our religion established by law dearer to us than our lives’

If Jimmy read that carefully, he might spot a warning note.

‘our religion established by law dearer to us than our lives’

But basically, things were going brilliantly. Here’s the Earl of Peterborough writing to his mate Justinian Isham back at Lamport Hall

Never king was proclaimed with more applause … He has made a speech to the Councell that did charm everybody concerning his intentions of maintaining the Government as it was established in Church and State. I doubt not but to see a happy reign.

Now that speech he refers to, what’s that all about then. It’s 6^th February, Charles has just died, the king is dead long live the king and all that, James must have been feeling ..well…complicated. He loved his brother who had just died in agony; but despite all the grief he’d been through, he had made it! King James! Bet that sounded good, bet he said that to himself in the bath a lot, and now his passion project could begin.

So he called a Privy Council meeting, with tears still in his eyes, and he gushed, gentle listener he gushed.

I have been reported to be a man for arbitrary power; but that is not the only story that has been made of me. And I shall make it my endeavour to preserve this Government both in Church and State as it is now by Law Establish’d…

I know too, that the Laws of England are sufficient to make the King as great a monarch as I can wish; and as I shall never depart from the just Rights and Prerogatives of the Crown, so I shall never invade any man’s Property.

Well that was a great promise, and everyone needed to know the kings are OK, so it was printed up in the government’s official publication the London Gazette, and out it went, the News was shared, happy ministers told their flocks from the pulpit, letters were written, Roger L’Estrange put it in his bi-weekly Observator with a grin from ear to ear – in fact all England had a grin from ear to ear. Their new king was not going to copy Louis XIV and impose Catholicism and Absolutism on us all. Preserve government and church as it is now by law established. Let’s hug that to us and hang out the bunting everyone, poor me another pint. Much later James complained he’d been misquoted, because as he does alter things, people will remind him of what he promised.

 

 

 

James then got on with setting his governments in place, and there were changes. In Ireland we get to say goodbye to the Duke of Ormonde, finally finally. James was nervous of moving too quickly, so he would soon appoint the Earl of Clarendon to the role; that was a problem. Ormonde had been part of the weft and warp of Irish society, he was a major landowner, he’d been all through the civil wars, he understood all the nuances and people – the new guy was none of those. But it would turn out Clarendon wasn’t really the man with real influence over Irish policy anyway; that was James’ old mucker Richard Talbot, who according to Gilbert Burnet

Had much cunning and had the secret both of his master’s pleasure and of his religion

Talbot was an Irishman, an Old English Catholic, soon to be made Earl of Tyrconnell. Tyrconnell fought for the royalist cause in the rebellion, he had been at Drogheda, and for which he had tried to take revenge by assassinating Cromwell in 1655. He hated Ormonde, and blamed him for much of Ireland’s misfortunes.  Burnet’s reference to his master’s pleasures refers to his life at Charles’ court, where he organised James’ various mistresses; the much cunning bit, refers to his plan for Ireland. That was to escape English domination and become an autonomous Catholic kingdom under the Stuart Kings, run once more by the Old English. He had no time for the New English, no time for the Ulster Scots either – and not that much time for the ‘O’s and Macs’ as he called them, the Gaelic Irish. But if that James died without an heir before that was achieved, then it would be time for the Irish to reject the Stuart kings altogether, rather than be ruled by his protestant daughters. He had high hopes; and around Ireland many shared them with him – the rumours and gossip ran round that they would soon regain their estates and churches, that

Ireland must be a Catholic country whatever it cost

And that they would make the English

As poor devils as when they came first into Ireland

In Scotland, James’ position seemed unassailable, and he saw no need to make any changes; the Drummond Brothers, James earls of Perth and John Earl of Melfort were Chancellor and Secretary of State respectively. Although nominally Protestants, everyone knew they weren’t really, and within a few months would officially announce their conversion to Catholicism.

In England it was the turn of Robert Spencer, the Earl of Sunderland to become Secretary of State. Now Sunderland was a talented politician, quick and intelligent, but most of the Anglican ministers saw him as dangerous; as a French ambassador wrote

the King is well aware of Lord Sunderland’s character, that he is ambitious and capable of any sacrifice for ambition’s sake

Sunderland had the advantages too of being a convinced Absolutist, and would soon convert to Catholicism. He immediately set about making contacts; with James’ confessor the Jesuit Edward Petre, with James’ Queen, Mary of Modena and with Tyrconnell. A faction was forming to help James deliver his agenda.

James started touching for the King’s evil almost immediately – it’s always good to remind the world of the divine nature of majesty after all. And for the first time, he publicly attended Mass, and threw the doors open to others so everyone could see into the new world. That was significant – he’d always kept it private before. And the date for the Coronation was set – for St George’s Day, 23^rd April. Unlike his Dad and Brother he would never be crowned in Scotland.

His search for secure finances started right away – firstly with Louis XIV. James was as much of a fan as his brother of France and the French monarch. As soon as the old King’s body was cold, a loyal member of James; household left for France to give Louis the news. His name was John Churchill, husband of Sarah Jenyns, an army man who had served in war for the French. He was also tasked to request more subsidy for his king; and Lous gave him 5,000 livres, and would soon confirm the continuation of Charles’ existing treaty with him, and £125,000 would duly follow. Plus a pension for the new secretary Sunderland too. Business as usual as it were.

Anyway, before he left France, Churchill told a French protestant army officer

‘that if the King ever was prevailed upon to alter our religion, he would serve him no longer, but withdraw from him’

Note bene, gentle listeners – note. And seriously – bene.

And then James issued a proclamation for continuing the collection of Customs and excise dues. Now this was more than a little cheeky actually; as was customary, they had been granted to Charles II for life and Charles II didn’t have any life any more, and nor did he have any need for customs and excise duties. Still James sugared the pill of illegality by announcing there’d be a parliament soon where this would be discussed.

The date of the English parliament was set for May; but the Scottish parliament was called to sit before that, in April. In 1688, his younger daughter, Anne would write:

What has been done in Scotland has been but a forerunner of what in a short time has been done in England

Some historians believe that both Charles and James consciously used Scotland as a test ground, and as an example to their southern neighbours, because that was where their support was strongest and his constitutional position most powerful.

So as James and his Queen Mary sat having their coronations together on 23^rd, having quietly dropped the Anglican Communion of course, they could feel very happy indeed. Although it was a famously error-strewn occasion; the crown had been made for his brother’s head and was too big plus Jimmy’s wig was so high it would have kept us safe from an intercontinental missile attack. The crown kept slipping so he had to sit veeeery very still and not make any sudden movements. ABC Sancroft was a gentle old soul, but dropped the orb which was embarrassing and then forced the Queen’s ring on the wrong finger. There was muttering about bad omens. Still, there was a magnificent feast, fit for a king, with 1,445 separate dishes, a bit like the Crowther household on a Wednesday night, and a whopping great firework display over the Thames. Royal feet were under the table of state, there was no sign of trouble, and everything was ready for the next stage.

[1] Southcombe, G: ‘Restoration Politics, Religion and Culture’, p89

[2] Speck, W: ‘ODNB James II and VII’