March 4, 2017 | Leave a comment Prior to the English Civil War (1642-1651) the power of the reigning monarch was absolute. They ruled by divine right, meaning their authority came from God, and no subject was at liberty to question that authority, let alone take up arms against their sovereign. The eventual outcome of the war, was the establishment of the constitutional precedent, that the monarch required the consent of Parliament in order have authority to govern. The rule by divine right was at an end, and the seeds of democratic government had been sown. Today, modern democracies the world over can trace their roots back to this tumultuous period of English history. The credit for this monumental overhaul of government, is generally afforded to Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658), who was one of the principal commanders of the parliamentarian army, and a signatory to the death warrant of King Charles I in 1649 (for more detail of the execution, see my earlier story entitled The Regicidal Hermit?). From 1653 until his death, Cromwell was known as Lord Protector of the Commonwealth; a grand title for a democrat! However, there is a man who, were it not for his untimely death, might also be known today as one of the fathers of democracy. That man was John Hampden (c1595-1643), a rather overlooked character these days, given his importance at the time. Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658) John Hampden was born in 1594 or 1595 in London, to a wealthy family with landholdings in both Buckinghamshire and Middlesex. He was educated at Thame School in Oxfordshire, and Magdalen College, Oxford. As the eldest son, he inherited his family’s estates on the death of his father, and in addition sat as the Member of Parliament for Wendover in Buckinghamshire, during the reign of King Charles I. John Hampden (c1595-1643) Charles was an unpopular king, suspected of having Catholic sympathies, and continually obliging his wealthier subjects to offer him loans or pay higher taxes, in order to raise funds for wars abroad, that the country could ill afford. Having already been imprisoned in 1627 for refusing to pay a forced loan to the King, the tipping point for Hampden came in 1637, when the King came up with a new wheeze to raise funds, by extending the scope of a tax known as ship-money. King Charles I (1600-1649) Basically, ship-money was a tax paid by coastal counties for naval defence. Charles argued that all counties should pay ship-money, as the defence of the coast was ultimately in the interest of all counties, not just those with a coastline. In this he was quite right. A modern analogy would be that of a block of flats, where everyone is obliged to contribute to the maintenance of the roof, not just those living in the top flats. However, it was immediately apparent that the King was not merely trying to share the tax burden more equitably, as his argument suggested, but he was actually attempting to increase it. His plan was to charge each individual county the same amount as he had previously charged individual coastal counties only, thus almost doubling the revenue from this method of taxation. Accepting the validity of the King’s argument, Hampden did not refuse to pay ship-money, but refused to pay the full amount, thus highlighting the inequity of Charles’ position. Needless to say, the King was not pleased. Nevertheless, matters proceeded disagreeably, but peacefully enough, until that is, the King’s patience snapped on 4th January 1642, when he entered the English House of Commons, accompanied by armed soldiers, intent on arresting John Hampden and four other members of parliament, on charges of treason. Presumably having been forewarned, the individuals in question were not present when the King entered the chamber, and so the attempt was unsuccessful. However, the incident demonstrated that the King was prepared to use force against Parliament, and this proved to be the catalyst for the ensuing Civil War. Upon the outbreak of hostilities, Hampden raised a regiment of foot soldiers from his Buckinghamshire estates. The Greencoat Regiment, as they were known, fought with distinction, eventually forcing the King and his army to retreat to Oxford. The university city thus became a stronghold for royalist forces, with their parliamentarian opponents positioning themselves at the market town of Thame, a few miles away. And so it was that the two places with which Hampden was so familiar from his student days, became bitterly opposed to one another. Sadly, however, John Hampden would not live to see the birth of democracy. On 18th June 1643, at the Battle of Chlagrove Field, he was attempting to discharge a pistol, which instead of firing, exploded in his hand, causing serious injuries and necessitating his withdrawal. He returned to his headquarters at the Greyhound Inn in Thame, now a shoe shop, where he died of his injuries on 24th June 1643. The pistol was one of a pair given to him by his son in law Sir Robert Pye, and Hampden was initially of the opinion that Pye was responsible for his accident, by having provided him with sub-standard weaponry. However, when Pye examined the other pistol, it transpired that it was loaded with numerous charges. It seemed that a servant, tasked with loading the pistols every morning, had done so meticulously, but without removing the previous day’s charge first! For reasons that are not entirely clear, the English have a strange habit of digging up their heroes and villains after a couple of hundred years or so. Hampden was no exception. An exhumation took place in 1828, which revealed extensive damage to the bones of his right hand. This effectively confirmed the contemporary account of the exploding pistol, and laid to rest a rumour that he had actually been shot in the shoulder by a royalist marksman. Statue of John Hampden in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire To this day, the independence of the House of Commons is ceremonially epitomised every year at the State Opening of Parliament. Traditionally, the door of the Commons is slammed in the face of a senior officer of the House of Lords, known as Black Rod, to symbolise its independence from the monarchy. Would John Hampden have approved of this discourteous demonstration of parliamentary defiance? Absolutely! Sources: http://bcw-project.org/biography/john-hampden https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hampden http://www.parliament.uk/about/mps-and-lords/principal/black-rod/