mbers to disperse. A third forbade the people to pay taxes to the
usurper. A fourth pronounced Albemarle a traitor. [380]

Albemarle transmitted these proclamations to London merely as specimens
of folly and impertinence. They produced no effect, except wonder and
contempt; nor had Monmouth any reason to think that the assumption of
royalty had improved his position. Only a week had elapsed since he
had solemnly bound himself not to take the crown till a free Parliament
should have acknowledged his rights. By breaking that engagement he had
incurred the imputation of levity, if not of perfidy. The class which he
had hoped to conciliate still stood aloof. The reasons which prevented
the great Whig lords and gentlemen from recognising him as their King
were at least as strong as those which had prevented them from rallying
round him as their Captain General. They disliked indeed the person, the
religion, and the politics of James. But James was no longer young. His
eldest daughter was justly popular. She was attached to the reformed
faith. She was married to a prince who was the hereditary chief of
the Protestants of the Continent, to a prince who had been bred in a
republic, and whose sentiments were supposed to be such as became a
constitutional King. Was it wise to incur the horrors of civil war, for
the mere chance of being able to effect immediately what nature
would, without bloodshed, without any violation of law, effect, in all
probability, before many years should have expired? Perhaps there might
be reasons for pulling down James. But what reason could be given for
setting up Monmouth? To exclude a prince from the throne on account of
unfitness was a course agreeable to Whig principles. But on no principle
could it be proper to exclude rightful heirs, who were admitted to
be, not only blameless, but eminently qualified for the highest public
trust. That Monmouth was legitimate, nay, that he thought himself
legitimate, intelligent men could not believe. He was therefore not
merely an usurper, but an usurper of the worst sort, an impostor. If
he made out any semblance of a case, he could do so only by means of
forgery and perjury. All honest and sensible persons were unwilling to
see a fraud which, if practiced to obtain an estate, would have been
punished with the scourge and the pillory, rewarded with the English
crown. To the old nobility of the realm it seemed insupportable that
the bastard of Lucy Walters shou