An Apologie for the Royal Party (1659)

In Short

These two documents serve as a historical bookend to the English Interregnum. The first is a defiant, urgent pamphlet published in 1659, aimed at persuading those in power to abandon their revolutionary experiments and return to a stable, monarchical government. The second, written in 1661, is a lavish, celebratory address to King Charles II on the day of his coronation. Together, they illustrate the profound relief and high expectations of a society emerging from decades of civil war, religious infighting, and the traumatic execution of a sovereign.

The Story

The arc of these two works traces a movement from profound national anxiety to ecstatic relief. In An Apologie for the Royal Party, the narrator addresses a member of the Council of State during the final, crumbling days of the revolutionary government. The tone is one of sober, urgent warning. He describes the nation as having been torn apart by "Blood and Treasure, Rapine and Injustice." He argues that the various factions—the Presbyterians, the Army, and the usurpers—have failed to establish any lasting peace, having instead traded the rule of law for the whims of tyrants.

The narrator catalogs the disastrous ends of the prominent revolutionaries, viewing their deaths and disgrace as direct manifestations of divine judgment. He maintains that the people are weary, "sullen and proud," and that the country has been reduced to a state of moral and social ruin. The argument here is not merely political but existential: he pleads for a return to the "sweetness and tranquility" of the old order, demanding a free parliament and an end to the "imposture" of those who claimed to be doing God’s work while pursuing their own avarice.

By the time of the Panegyric in 1661, the mood shifts from defensive pleading to unrestrained jubilation. The King has returned, and the "confused Chaos" has been replaced by the structured promise of the restoration. The author portrays Charles II as a figure touched by the divine, a leader whose survival through years of exile was a miracle. The text moves from the grim catalog of the past to a glowing inventory of the King’s virtues: his constancy, his piety, his deep understanding of global statecraft, and his commitment to the arts and sciences. The coronation is presented not just as a political event, but as the dawn of a new era, a "Platonic Revolution" that has set the nation back on its rightful course. The author envisions a future of prosperity where churches are repaired, laws are honored, and the King serves as a father to his people, guiding them toward a golden age of stability and cultural refinement.

How It Unfolds

The call for reflection The first text opens with a direct appeal to a former enemy, framing the plea as an act of friendship and Christian charity. The narrator seeks to convince the recipient that the revolutionary cause is collapsing under its own weight and that repentance is the only path to national salvation.

The anatomy of failure The author provides a scathing critique of the Interregnum, listing the prominent leaders who met ignominious ends. He contrasts the "signal wickednesses" of these men with the constancy and dignity of the Royalists who suffered under their rule.

The hope for restoration The argument culminates in a demand for a free parliament and a rejection of the "specious edifices" built by the military usurpers. The narrator insists that the true path to peace lies in the restoration of the legal, traditional government.

The triumphant homecoming The second text begins with the coronation of Charles II, casting the event as a supernatural intervention. The author frames the King's return as a cessation of a long, dark storm, bringing immediate order to a fractured society.

The portrait of a perfect prince The final section catalogues the King’s character, praising his humility and his dedication to practical knowledge. It ends with a visionary look at a rebuilt England, where the return of the monarch has restored the nation's spiritual and physical health.

The People

The Narrator (John Evelyn) positions himself as a "plain Country Gentleman," an observer independent of the factions who acts as a voice of reason. He is motivated by a desire for peace and a moral duty to prevent further national decay. His perspective shifts from a stern, cautionary judge in 1659 to an unabashed admirer in 1661.

Charles II is the central, idealized figure. In the first text, he is the persecuted prince, a "noble soul" whose endurance through exile mirrors that of David fleeing from Saul. In the second, he is the "best and greatest of Kings," a man whose character, education, and travels have uniquely prepared him to heal the nation. He is portrayed as the ultimate restorer, who prioritizes justice and clemency over revenge.

The Revolutionaries are viewed collectively as a group of "impostors" and "sons of thunder." They are driven by "insatiable avarice" and "prodigious disloyalty." In the first text, their downfall is documented with a sense of grim satisfaction; they are depicted as people who violated their oaths and betrayed their country, only to be abandoned by the very forces they empowered.

In Its Own Voice

In the Apologie, the narrator emphasizes the divine retribution that he believes has befallen the revolutionary leaders:

"O how suddenly do they consume, perish, and come to a fearfull end!"

In the Panegyric, he expresses the overwhelming relief of the populace upon the return of the King:

"No sooner came our CHARLES on shore, but every Man was in the Haven where he would be; the storm Universally ceas'd."

What It's Really About

At its core, the writing explores the tension between revolutionary fervor and the deep-seated cultural desire for continuity. It asks a fundamental question: what constitutes legitimate government? The author argues that true authority is not derived from the strength of armies or the success of a coup, but from a divine order that is tied to ancient laws and moral traditions. The work is a study in the psychological toll of civil strife, detailing how a society, once "giddy" with radical change, eventually aches for the safety of a recognized, stable center. It examines the necessity of mercy in statecraft, arguing that for a nation to truly heal, the victor must govern through "general Clemency" rather than the perpetuation of conflict.

Why Read It Today

These texts offer a rare, visceral look at the seventeenth-century mindset. Reading them requires navigating the dense, ornate prose of the period and the author’s fervent, high-stakes moralizing. Readers interested in the history of ideas will find them particularly rewarding, as they reveal how a contemporary observer justified the dramatic shift from a republic to the return of a monarchy. The language is challenging—steeped in classical allusions and a specific, theological interpretation of political events—but it is also deeply revealing of the human need for order in the wake of chaos.

You will encounter a man grappling with the trauma of living through a revolution that destroyed his world, and then participating in the hope of its reconstruction. While the author’s unabashed adoration of Charles II may feel excessive to modern sensibilities, it is an essential piece of historical evidence regarding how the Restoration was understood by its supporters. It remains a powerful reminder of how quickly "universal silence and solitude" can be replaced by the collective joy of a people who believe they have finally regained their footing. If you value primary sources that capture the raw, emotional pulse of a turning point in history, these pages will stay with you.