the hour of danger,
proved false and hollow in the hour of triumph. As soon as Charles the
Second was at Whitehall, the Cavalier forgot the good service recently
done by the Presbyterians, and remembered only their old offences.
As soon as William was King, too many of the Whigs began to demand
vengeance for all that they had, in the days of the Rye House Plot,
suffered at the hands of the Tories. On both occasions the Sovereign
found it difficult to save the vanquished party from the fury of
his triumphant supporters; and on both occasions those whom he had
disappointed of their revenge murmured bitterly against the government
which had been so weak and ungrateful as to protect its foes against its
friends.
So early as the twenty-fifth of March, William called the attention of
the Commons to the expediency of quieting the public mind by an amnesty.
He expressed his hope that a bill of general pardon and oblivion would
be as speedily as possible presented for his sanction, and that no
exceptions would be made, except such as were absolutely necessary for
the vindication of public justice and for the safety of the state.
The Commons unanimously agreed to thank him for this instance of his
paternal kindness: but they suffered many weeks to pass without taking
any step towards the accomplishment of his wish. When at length the
subject was resumed, it was resumed in such a manner as plainly showed
that the majority had no real intention of putting an end to the
suspense which embittered the lives of all those Tories who were
conscious that, in their zeal for prerogative, they had some times
overstepped the exact line traced by law. Twelve categories were framed,
some of which were so extensive as to include tens of thousands of
delinquents; and the House resolved that, under every one of these
categories, some exceptions should be made. Then came the examination
into the cases of individuals. Numerous culprits and witnesses were
summoned to the bar. The debates were long and sharp; and it soon became
evident that the work was interminable. The summer glided away: the
autumn was approaching: the session could not last much longer; and
of the twelve distinct inquisitions, which the Commons had resolved to
institute, only three had been brought to a close. It was necessary to
let the bill drop for that year, [408]
Among the many offenders whose names were mentioned in the course of
these inquiries, was one who stood alone
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