THE 
 
 GREAT CIVIL WAR 
 
 OF 
 
 CHARLES THE FIRST AND THE 
 PARLIAMENT.
 
 HEATH'S 
 
 HISTORICAL ANNUAL; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE GREAT CIVIL WAR 
 
 OF 
 
 CHARLES I. AND THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. RICHARD CATTERMOLE, B.D. 
 
 WITH 
 
 Jpifttm ]^iQ]bIs=finis5ftr iEngrabmgs, from IBtatnings bj) 
 
 GEORGE CATTERMOLE, ESQ. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETOR, BY 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS; 
 
 APPLETON AND CO. NEW YORK; AND FISHER AND SON, PARIS.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 I'RIXTEP BY MOVES AND BAIICLAY, CASTLE SinEET, 
 LEICESTER SQUARE.
 
 LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD (Feontispiece). 
 
 THE KING'S ARMY BEFORE DONNINGTON CASTLE (Vignette). 
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD 37 
 
 STRAFFORD'S FAREWELL 59 
 
 DEATH OF THE EARL OF LINDSEY 130 
 
 DEATH OF THE EARL OF NORTHAMPTON 149 
 
 THE QUEEN AT BURLINGTON 154 
 
 THE KING AND HYDE 166 
 
 DEFENCE OF WARDOUR CASTLE 184 
 
 STORMING OF BRISTOL 188 
 
 SELLING CHURCH PLUNDER 231 
 
 REPUBLICAN PREACHING 234 
 
 GORING CAROUSING 263 
 
 SORTIE FROM LATHOM HOUSE 280 
 
 MONTROSE DISCOVERED IN DISGUISE 287
 
 LVA^AV 4 
 
 THE 
 
 GREAT CIVIL WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 If the Petition of Rights, which in the third Par- 
 liament of Charles I. confirmed those liherties that 
 were already the birthright of Englishmen, had been 
 ingenuously assented to by the king, and taken by the 
 brave and strong-minded men who were its authors 
 for a final measure, it is possible the kingdom might 
 have been spared the calamities of the following 
 twenty years. But when, in the confidence of vic- 
 tory, the popular leaders proceeded to make that just 
 and necessary enactment a vantage ground for direct 
 attacks on the prerogative of the crown; and when, 
 on the other hand, the distrustful sovereign withdrew, 
 in effect, that assent to it which had diffused among 
 the people universal joy ; a breach was made, which 
 the living generation, though they successively flung 
 into it every thing dear to man, were never to see 
 closed. 
 
 The triumphs of that assembly were achieved by 
 
 B
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 men whom, or whose like, even the great period we 
 propose to sketch saw not again met together. The 
 fiery Eliot, foremost, if not greatest, perished long 
 ere another parliament was called — unhappily in 
 prison. Sir Thomas Wentworth, satisfied with that 
 noble victory, so large a share of which was his own, 
 mindful to which of the great parties in the state was 
 now due the devotion of his vast political genius, went 
 over to the king. 
 
 His example was followed by Digges, Littleton, 
 Noy, and others of inferior note. Yet, that the spirit 
 of the party survived, and would survive, while one 
 man in particular lived, was apparent from a now 
 familiar anecdote of the time. That man was Pym ; 
 whose sterling eloquence, learning, application, and 
 matchless tenacity of purpose, admirably fitted hini 
 for his office, as leader of an opposition so weighty in 
 talent and vast in its designs. Wentworth, before 
 carrying into effect his final resolve, sought an inter- 
 view in private with his indexible associate, in which 
 he imparted his present views, suggesting the advan- 
 tages that would accrue from conciliation. 
 
 " You need not," interrupted Pym, indignantly, at 
 once perceiving Wentworth's drift, while visions of 
 imj)eachment rose upon his sight, " to tell me that 
 you have a mind to leave us. But remember what I 
 say, — you are going to be undone. And remember, 
 also, that though you leave us now, I will never leave 
 you while your head is on your shoulders." 
 
 Refusing to pass a bill for supplies, which the 
 wants of the executive rendered urgent, the third
 
 INTRODUCTION. O 
 
 parliament was dissolved in the midst of an ominous 
 storm of contumacy on the part of the commons, and 
 of disappointment and displeasure on that of the king. 
 The representatives of the people retired to their 
 homes, to brood over their personal wrongs and the 
 despotism which now more than threatened the coun- 
 try, and to inflame, by their various statements of 
 grievance, the popular discontent. The course pur- 
 sued by the king had in it so much of inconsiderate- 
 ness and obvious impolicy, beside what wilfulness 
 may be imputed to it, as no hypothesis can explain, 
 but one that includes a thorough conviction in the 
 royal mind of its justice, in existing circumstances. 
 He now commenced in earnest the fatal plan of 
 governing by the bare force of prerogative, until a 
 parliament could be convened with the prospect of 
 a more complying temper. It is fair to acquit Charles 
 of a wish to encroach upon the known rights of his 
 people ; but a crisis had arrived, when the people 
 would no longer distinguish between such a wish and 
 a resolution to maintain those adverse claims of the 
 crown, which he had inherited from his predecessors, 
 and thought himself bound to defend in his own 
 person, and transmit, unimpaired, to his children. 
 King Charles really desired to be the father of his 
 people ; but in his code of parental duty he included 
 denial and correction with indulgence. We have no 
 disposition to vindicate those infractions of the con- 
 stitution, as now defined, which followed rapidly on 
 each other. We cannot but observe, however, that, 
 numerous and gross as they were, and directed equally
 
 4 IMTRODUCTION. 
 
 against the freedom and the property of the subject, 
 there were never wanting powerful minds ready to 
 expose and exaggerate, if they were unable to prevent 
 them ; while few mentioned, perhaps few believed, the 
 advancing prosperity of the people, which their com- 
 bined operation did not check. 
 
 The brightest track along the course of the years 
 which followed, is, with all its errors, the path of Went- 
 worth. Raised to the dignities of baron and viscount, 
 and to the offices of a privy-counsellor and j)resident 
 of the Council of the North, this great statesman, on 
 the dissolution of the parliament, instantly applied 
 himself with characteristic ardour to the high but 
 perilous duties of his presidency. 
 
 The Council of the North was a court erected at 
 York, in the reign of Henry VIII., with jurisdiction 
 over the five northern counties, in those times the 
 theatre of frequent insurrection. The great and 
 irregular powers exercised by this court, were, on 
 Wentworth's appointment, enlarged to an almost un- 
 limited extent. In administering them with strict but 
 liaughty and severe impartiality, he succeeded in the 
 twofold object of bearing down with a high hand 
 every show of disaffection towards the government, 
 iind of raising to an unprecedented amount the 
 income derived from that part of the kingdom to 
 the royal exchequer. Charles had soon to acknow- 
 ledge, rather than discover, such extraordinary zeal 
 and ability in his new minister, as manifestly quali- 
 liid iiiiii to serve the state in a wider sphere. Went- 
 worth was nominated lord-deputy of Ireland^ without
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 being required to resign the chair of the northern 
 presidency. 
 
 That ever-unhappy country was now for the first 
 time governed by a hand vigorous and steady enough 
 for the task. Wentworth made his appearance in 
 Dublin with the pomp and ceremonial of royalty : it 
 was his acknowledged principle of government to 
 rule, not merely as a vice-king, but as the deputed 
 sovereign of a conquered province. Benefits and 
 severities he dispensed with a sternly equal hand ; 
 but even the severities of a master-mind, when first 
 placed at the head of an arbitrary government, 
 being for the most part merely the extinction of 
 minor oppressions in the sovereign sway, are, for 
 the people, blessings in disguise. One of the many 
 historians who have poured their vials of angry cen- 
 sure on the proud head of Wentworth, bears this 
 reluctant testimony : — " the Richelieu of Ireland, 
 he made that island wealthier in the midst of ex- 
 actions, and, one might almost say, happier in the 
 midst of oppressions." 
 
 The benefits conferred on Ireland by Wentworth 
 were diffused through all her institutions. We trace 
 them in a more than quadrupled revenue ; in the 
 church strengthened and made more efficient ; in the 
 courts of justice reformed ; in the army disciplined ; in 
 commerce and manufactures cherished and extended ; 
 in a population wealthier, more peaceful, and more 
 humane. Its concomitant excesses are illustrated 
 (among other less-remembered instances) by the trial 
 and sentencing to death of the Lord Mountnorris,
 
 6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ostensibly for an impatient or disrespectful word ; 
 an outbreak of tyrannous pride, made available to 
 the strengthening of the government, which Went- 
 worth's enemies did not forget. The sentence was 
 meant only to humble the victim ; but a stretch of 
 power so violent in itself, and yet so capable of aggra- 
 vation by unfriendly tongues, swelled prodigiously the 
 gathering indignation against the viceroy, and was 
 grimly noted down in the great impeachment-hook, 
 by those who watched with patience till the shadovv 
 upon the darkening political sun-dial should point the 
 hour of his undoing. 
 
 Beyond the esteem of the sovereign, to whom he 
 was ardently attached, Wentworth — with one excep- 
 tion — cared little to supply the vacancies in his 
 former friendships from the party which he had now 
 joined. Sincere, laborious, proud, he had no sympathy 
 with the heartlessness and indolence of the courtiers. 
 The exception refers to Laud ; whose translation to the 
 see of London and paramount authority in the ad- 
 ministration nearly coincided with the period of Went- 
 worth's elevation, as both did with the fall of Buck- 
 ingham. With a mind of less majestic dimensions, 
 though more learnedly cultivated ; with directness and 
 integrity equal to W entworth's steady and unquench- 
 able ardour ; below him in pride, as became a church- 
 man, but as keenly capable of rigour, for conscience 
 sake ; as great in courage, as inflexible in constancy ; 
 above all, animated by like devotedness to the master 
 whom both served " not wisely," but, in their view of 
 duty, "well;" — Laud, whatever may be thought by
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 those who strangely discover the bond of these men's 
 union in that most dissociative of principles, a common 
 despotic will, was not unworthy of that intimacy with 
 the larger-minded Wentworth which remained firm till 
 violently and most affectingly terminated by death. 
 Such as they were, these eminent persons continued 
 to be the main agents of King Charles's government in 
 Church and State, through many difficult, and, finally, 
 disastrous years. They did not originate all his plans, 
 but they were ever ready, in the fearlessness of duty, 
 to carry forward even the worst of them. If they 
 erred in an honest view of their duty, mistook the 
 times, wounded the immature constitution, overrated 
 even theii' abilities, or indulged private passion at the 
 cost of the public weal; they received in their persons, 
 and will ever be paying in their fame, the penalty of 
 those whom Providence places, as doomed yet not 
 useless barriers to the violent current of changeful 
 times ; augmenting, while they brave, the fury of the 
 waters, but preparing fertility for other generations by 
 forcing them to sweep away injurious impediments, 
 and then to waste their rage in diffusion. 
 
 The means by which the government of Charles I. 
 endeavoured to provide for its exigencies, without par- 
 liamentary aid, are known to every one. Taxes on mer- 
 chandise (the "tonnage and poundage " of the period) ; 
 compositions for declining to receive knighthood ; fines 
 from those whose estates were discovered to have 
 encroached on the ancient boundaries of the royal 
 forests; patents of monopoly on an infinite number of 
 articles of ordinary consumption ; with other sources
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of revenue, some of them unprecedented and illegal, 
 the greater part arbitrarily and oppressively levied ; 
 all proved insufficient. Large sums were extorted, of 
 which no more than a trifling proportion found its 
 way into the treasury ; for an unsettled despotism is 
 always plundered, and always improvident. " It is now 
 almost fifteen years," said Pym, in the first session of 
 the Long Parliament, " since his majesty had any 
 assistance from his people ; and these illegal ways of 
 supplying tlie king were never pressed with more 
 violence and art than they have been in this time : 
 and yet I may, upon very good grounds, affirm, that 
 in thi' last fifteen years of Queen Elizabeth she re- 
 ceived more by the bounty and affection of her sub- 
 jects than hath come to his majesty's coffers by all the 
 inordinate and rigorous courses which have been 
 taken." Refusal to comply with these demands was 
 frequent, and was followed in numerous instances by 
 fine and imprisonment in the Star Chamber, or other 
 oppressive courts. 
 
 A more memorable tax is celebrated under the 
 name of Sliip-money. A feeble and distracted govern- 
 ment at home had diminished the respect in which 
 Enghmd had formerly been held by foreign nations. 
 Iler ancient dominion of her own seas was slighted by 
 her neighbours ; corsairs from Barbary made descents 
 upon her coasts. To repel these disgraceful aggres- 
 sions, the sea-ports were rerpiired to equip vessels for 
 the king's service ; and the demand was presently ex- 
 tendeil to the whole kingdom, the inland counties com- 
 pounding for their assessments in money. The funds
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 thus raised were honestly and successfully applied to 
 the purposes for which they were required. But the 
 demand was startling and novel — revived, at least, 
 from the dust of forgotten records. Numbers opposed 
 it, and were thrown into prison. Among the most 
 memorable and important processes injudicial history, 
 is that by which the legality of this impost was tried in 
 the case of Hampden. The patriot's assessment, upon 
 an extensive landed property, was twenty shillings. 
 On so small a point turned the issue of a great consti- 
 tutional question ! Judgment was given for the crown; 
 but as the judges were believed to be corrupted, and as 
 the elaborate arguments of Hampden's counsel had 
 convinced the nation that substantial right, if not the 
 technical construction of statutes, favoured his cause, 
 " the judgment," says Clarendon, " proved of more 
 advantage to the gentleman condemned than to the 
 king's service." Hampden, indeed, reaped a cheap 
 immortality ; but he was a man who had studied the art 
 of winning golden opinions ; a man whose constancy 
 of purpose was shaded by caution, or smoothed by the 
 blandest of demeanours ; and ship-money was in all 
 men's ears a hated word. 
 
 But, as will always be the case in this serious 
 nation in unsettled times, the deepest and widest 
 grounds of discontent were occupied by questions of 
 religion. The people were kept in perpetual terror 
 of popery by the slumber allowed to the existing 
 statutes against papists, and by the insolence or in- 
 discretion of that party, in consequence of Charles's
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 marriage with a daughter of Roman Cathohc France, 
 and of his known deference to the personal pre- 
 dilections of his queen. This, however, was only 
 an aggravation of an older and more deeply seated 
 grievance. It could not but befall, in the great 
 conflict of the Reformation, that the antagonists of 
 popery, driven at once by indignation, fear, and 
 hatred, would take up on the other side some extreme, 
 and such as in cooler times would appear, to sound 
 judgments, untenable or worthless positions. These, 
 when the purified National Church had been fixed 
 on her own secure basis, all sane persons would 
 have been ready to abandon, had no fresh causes of 
 excitement arisen. 
 
 But events kept alarm wakeful ; and timid na- 
 tures, remembering as a terrible dream whose images 
 oppress the waking fancy, the sanguinary and flaming 
 liorrors of the past, thought themselves less secure in 
 the efiiciency of their arms and ramparts than in re- 
 moteness from the hated foe. The most primitive vest- 
 ment, if the Romish, though only in common with 
 other churches, had adopted its use, retained the in- 
 fectiou of Antichrist : observances the most venerable, 
 in passing through that " cliamber of abominable ima- 
 gery," had become symbols of the mystic Babylon. 
 That aversion to apostolical government, and that im- 
 patience of uniformity in rites and ceremonies, which 
 abhorrence of popish corruj)tion had already generated 
 at home, were heightened by the sojourn of the Ma- 
 rian exiles among those reformed communities abroad.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 whom not choice, but the pressure of circumstances, 
 had deprived of episcopacy and the decorous adjuncts 
 of a national church. The strictness of Elizabeth's 
 ecclesiastical government, acting on the stubborn na- 
 ture of conscientious Puritanism, increased both the 
 number and the vehemence of the Church's ene- 
 mies. A farther element of mischief was brought in 
 after James had sent over his committee of divines to 
 grace the synod of Dort. Davenant and his compeers, 
 on their return, inoculated the factions with a more 
 virulent type of religious dissidence — the disputes of 
 Prelatist and Puritan were henceforth to be sharpened 
 by the reproachful appellations of Calvinist and Ar- 
 minian ; and, by a strange contradiction, a slavish 
 theology, in which the Father of mankind takes the 
 character of a despot, became the watchword of poli- 
 tical and relio-ious freedom. 
 
 With the authority. Laud had succeeded to the 
 principles, of Cranmer, Whitgift, and Parker ; but 
 in worse times, and, as both prime minister and 
 metropolitan, in circumstances at once more likely 
 to betray him into violence, and expose him to 
 obloquy. The Puritans, who, in Elizabeth's reign, 
 though turbulent, were comparatively inconsiderable, 
 and hardly, till towards the close of that brilliant 
 period, lifted their heads as a political party, grew 
 formidable under James, and, after the accession of 
 Charles, insolent; concessions — which they regarded 
 as less than their due, and slight punishments — 
 which raised them into credit with the multitude, 
 turning equally to their advantage. Laud was fully
 
 12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 awake to the greatness of the danger ; his error 
 as a statesman lay in believing that the danger could 
 be averted by an appliance, on the part of the rulers, 
 of bare unyielding principle. He knew he had the 
 king's perfect confidence ; he felt he had a strong 
 heart and unquenchable zeal ; he trusted in the help 
 of God, for he esteemed it his cause. Thus supported, 
 lie judged himself able to work out the justification of 
 that policy which he felt convinced was just — to keep 
 no terms with an implacable foe. " Resolve — there is 
 no end of yielding," was his motto. This is the sole 
 secret of that frequent reference to " thorough," which 
 has been so much commented on in his correspondence 
 with Strafford. To this principle we confidently refer 
 all those public acts, which, often irreconcilable both 
 with charity and prudence, and rendered doubly irri- 
 tating by a sharp ungracious demeanour, overwhelmed 
 him at length in a tide of popular hatred without ex- 
 ample. His preference of Papists to Puritans, as less 
 dangerous and inveterate enemies to the Church (in 
 which he agreed with Queen Elizabeth) ; his excessive 
 zeal for the splendid externals of public worship ; his 
 measures for checking the perversion of pulpit influence 
 to the furtherance of political designs ; his revival of 
 the obsolete jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts, in 
 punishing gross })rofligacy of manners ; even the enor- 
 mity of his share in the mulcts and mutilations in- 
 flicted bv tlio Star Chamber, in such cases as those of 
 Leighton, Prynne, Bastwick, and Burton; — had all 
 that origin. Tlic offence for which these individuals 
 were indicted, viz. the publication of libels on the hier-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 archy, was one so prevalent and popular, that the ex- 
 istence of the Church seemed to depend on steps 
 being taken for its discouragement. Their "censure" 
 has nevertheless been, with justice, reprobated by his- 
 torians, as equally cruel and impolitic. It proceeded 
 from a tribunal already the object of popular odium ; 
 it was known to have been instigated by the pre- 
 lates, whose actions needed no character of harshness 
 to secure them an unfriendly colouring ; the igno- 
 miny of the punishment outraged all the three great 
 professions — for Prynne was a lawyer, Bastwick a 
 physician, Burton a clergyman, and Leighton a Pres- 
 byterian divine ; finally, the manner of its execution 
 was calculated, as penalties for licentiousness of lan- 
 guage and opinions commonly are, to invest aspiring 
 malevolence with the honours of martyrdom. 
 
 While these and other concurrent events prepared 
 England for a great political and religious explosion, it 
 was in the king's northern dominions that the torch of 
 revolution was first applied. 
 
 In the march of rapacity and violence which hur- 
 ried forward the Reformation in Scotland, episcopacy 
 was almost swept away. Only an obscure name and 
 powerless existence remained, during many years, to 
 intimate that law had not sealed its actual extinction. 
 To restore the primitive worship and government of 
 the church, in his native land, was among the fondest 
 desires of Charles's heart, as it had been of his father's. 
 Some distant preparatory steps toward this object had 
 been taken by King James; but the attendance of Laud 
 at the coronation of his royal successor, in the northern
 
 14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 capital, was indignantly perceived to have reference to 
 an immediate plan for bringing that desire to effect. 
 All orders of men looked on the progress of this design 
 with unqualified disgust ; for in Scotland hatred of 
 episcopacy (where, indeed, from the ignorant or de- 
 signed confounding of the ideas of poj)e and prelate, it 
 had, as an abstract principle, its birth) was continually 
 kept alive by two of the most powerful motives of hu- 
 man action — by self-interest among the nobles, and by 
 religious enthusiasm among the people. In the mean- 
 time fatality, or infatuation, waited on every proceeding 
 of the government. The Scotch bishops — persons in 
 no esteem with the people, and whom the primate's 
 fatal policy had made hateful to the nobility, by con- 
 ferring on them the highest secular preferments, — 
 were directed to prepare a Liturgy and Canons. The 
 result of their labours was submitted for revisal to the 
 heads of the Anglican church ; but, whether from dis- 
 trust or contempt, the sanction of the native clergy 
 was wholly overlooked. This was extreme impru- 
 dence towards a body who carried their notions of 
 independence so high, and whose influence over their 
 congregations was unbounded. Moreover, by a pre- 
 posterous inadvertency, the canons made their aj^pear- 
 ance before the liturgy, to which they prescribed 
 submission. Both were, in reality, inoffensive; the 
 canons being chiefly a compilation from the acts of the 
 (ieneral Assendjly of Scotland, and the liturgy or ser- 
 vice-book only just so much varied from the English 
 Book of Common Prayer as was required by the 
 national vanity of the northern prelates. Nevertheless 
 
 *• 
 •^
 
 INTRODUCTION. 1 
 
 K 
 
 the people were taught to regard both as instruments 
 of anti-Christian tyranny; and, as such, a determined 
 stand was to be made against their introduction. 
 
 Till the day appointed for the publication of the 
 service-book not a murmur was heard. The sup- 
 pressed ire of the populace then first escaped in a riot 
 of the lowest classes, chiefly women, which interrupted 
 the public reading of the prayers, and endangered the 
 lives of the officiating clergy. More perilous and deci- 
 sive tumults succeeded ; in which, by degrees, first the 
 wealthy citizens, and finally the nobles, took part. 
 For several months the government, contemptuously 
 looking on, left the impotent local authorities to 
 deal with its seditious subjects. At length a pro- 
 clamation was sent down to assure the people of his 
 majesty's regard for the Protestant religion, and to 
 enforce the peace. By the treachery of some members 
 of the privy council, the contents of this document 
 became known in Scotland before its arrival. A 
 counter proclamation was instantly prepared by the 
 popular leaders, which, as if of equal authority with the 
 king's, they read and posted up at Stirling, Lithgow, 
 and Edinburgh ; their armed partisans forcibly de- 
 taining the royal heralds to witness the completion of 
 this daring act. The pretext of the tumultuous as- 
 semblies which convulsed the nation being to present 
 petitions against the bishops and the liturgy, the magis- 
 trates consented to a plan devised and insidiously pro- 
 posed by the leaders, for the establishment of central 
 " tables," or committees, to represent the petitioning 
 parties. So ably were these boards conducted, that in a 

 
 16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 few weeks they had possessed themselves of unlimited 
 authority throughout Scotland. An easy way was 
 thus laid open to introduce the confederacy, so well 
 remembered under the name of the " Solemn League 
 and Covenant." The subscribers to this great national 
 vow, after abjuring the superstitions of popery, in the 
 language of a former covenant adopted in the reign of 
 King James, and citing the several acts of parliament 
 for the maintenance of the kirk, bound themselves, 
 " according to the laudable example of their worthy 
 and free progenitors, by the great name of the Loi'd 
 their God," to defend their religion against all nova- 
 tions, and to stand by each other in resistance to the 
 contrary errors and corruptions, to the uttermost, 
 against all persons without exception. A solemn fast 
 was observed, preparatory to subscribing. On the 
 day appointed, multitudes of every rank, age, and sex, 
 thronged .the great church of St. (Giles's and its pre- 
 cincts. The force, the freedom, and the extravagance 
 of the republican model of devotion, rose, on this occa- 
 sion, to the highest pitch. Lifting their out-stretched 
 hands toward heaven, the vast assembly swore to the 
 national bond, amid shouts, and tears, and mutual 
 enibracements. The enthusiasm flew through the 
 country ; and all Scotland, with the exception of 
 tlie immediate servants of the government, a few 
 Roman Catholics, and tho solitary town of Aberdeen, 
 was bound together in this vast confederacy, by 
 the strongest tie of human associations, a burning 
 religions zeal. 
 
 Three months longer the government continued
 
 INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 wavering and irresolute. It then sent down the 
 Marquess of Hamilton, Charles's principal minister 
 for Scotch affairs, with a commission " to conclude 
 and determine all things respecting the peace of the 
 kingdom." To impress the commissioner with a high 
 notion of their union and strength, the Covenanters, to 
 the number of twenty thousand, on foot and on horse- 
 back, met and conducted him into the city ; and seven 
 hundred robed ministers are said to have placed them- 
 selves on an eminence by the roadside, and with one 
 voice intonated a psalm as he passed by. 
 
 Hamilton had undertaken a difficult task. The 
 demands of the confederates grew bolder as the 
 negotiations advanced. Twice he journeyed to Lon- 
 don, and twice returned to his increasingly excited 
 countrymen with modified powers ; bringing, on his 
 second reappearance, a surrender of every thing de- 
 manded — the abolition of the Liturgy, Canons, and 
 High Commission Court ; on the single condition, 
 that for the new Covenant should be substituted that 
 of King James. At the same time, a national assembly 
 and a parliament were fixed, to discuss freely all ques- 
 tions in dispute. 
 
 With these concessions the clergy and the people 
 were disposed to be content. Not so the secular 
 leaders. The king, they said, could not mean to grant 
 all he had promised ; his object was to gain time to 
 reduce them by force. In a large body, headed by 
 several noblemen, they mounted a scaffold at the 
 Market Cross of Edinburgh ; where, sword in hand, 
 
 c
 
 18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 they delivered a formal protest, asserting their deter- 
 mination to persist in adherence to the Covenant. 
 
 The assembly met at Glasgow ; but the members 
 having been almost all returned by the overpowering 
 influence of " the tables," the commissioner found him- 
 self wholly powerless before a majority resolved to 
 carry forward the plans of the confederates. At the 
 end of seven days, therefore, he dissolved the unma- 
 nageable convention, quitting it in the midst of a burst 
 of real or affected grief; and departed for England. 
 But the assembly refused to separate. Under the au- 
 spices of the Marquess of Argyle, who from this time 
 became the acknowledged head of the Covenanters, 
 the dissolution was annulled, and Episcopacy abolished, 
 with every other existing institution which could inter- 
 fere with the joyful deliverance of Scotland from the 
 absorbing terror of " popish and prelatic tyranny." 
 
 Naturally concluding that the king would seek by 
 force to suppress the rebellion, the Covenanters now be- 
 gan to make warlike preparations. Troops were levied, 
 arms purchased, the Scottish soldiers of fortune serving 
 on the Continent invited home. Encouragement was 
 not wanting from the discontented party in England ; 
 from France came the not less important aid of money. 
 Lesley, a veteran from the wars of Germany, was ap- 
 pointed to the chief command ; and forthwith began 
 hostilities bv seizing the castles of Edinburgh and 
 Dunbarton. The king, on his part, proceeded with as 
 much alacrity as his want of resources permitted. At 
 York, in which point the royal forces were concen-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 tred, he was met by a brilliant feudal gathering of 
 the nobility and chief gentry of the realm ; from 
 thence he advanced to the vicinity of Berwick. Thither 
 Lesley drew his Covenanters — twenty thousand men, 
 indilFerently equipped, but inspired with zeal which 
 was kept constantly at a boiling temperature by the 
 unwearied vehemence of pulpit oratory. Charles's 
 troops were equal in number, and far better provided ; 
 but without heart for the quarrel. Conscious of the 
 unpopularity of his cause, and reluctant to shed his 
 subjects' blood, he readily admitted commissioners 
 from the Scottish camp ; with whom was presently 
 concluded, on the basis of the conditions before pro- 
 posed at Edinburgh by Hamilton, the miserable armis- 
 tice known in the history of the time as the Pacification 
 of Berwick. 
 
 It was a fatal hour for England, when — whoever 
 might be its true author — the attempt was made to 
 force religious uniformity on the associated kingdom. 
 The temper in which that measure was long pursued, 
 was plainly contempt — contempt for the independence 
 of the kirk, and for the spirit of Scotchmen. But it is 
 a dangerous thing to despise a nation — even for a 
 great nation to despise a mean one. Scotland became 
 powerful, less in her own deep sense of wrong endured, 
 than in England's consciousness of wrong inflicted ; 
 unnerved by a sympathy half magnanimous, half trai- 
 torous, England became the dupe and the victim of her 
 wily sister, in requital for having treated her in a deli- 
 cate point as her vassal.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 STRAFFORD. 
 
 While that ha])less arrangement, the Pacification of 
 Berwick, was looked upon as dishonourable in Eng- 
 land, by the Scots its stipulations were disregarded. 
 Instead of disl)anding their army, which they had en- 
 gaged to do, the Covenanters dismissed a part only of 
 the troops, and kept in pay all the officers ; nor were 
 the lawless proceedings of the unarmed revolters 
 abated. 
 
 Already, in Scotland, Wentworth's was a name of 
 hatred and of terror. A report, that he intended to 
 cross the Channel at the head of a body of troops, was 
 among the earliest pretexts of the Cov^enanters for 
 flying to arms. This report had no foundation in fact ; 
 yet the energy of his government awed into stillness 
 and inaction their numerous countrymen settled in 
 Ireland, who had begun to take the Covenant, and had 
 shewn an eager disposition to join the insurgents. 
 Wentworth, however, was not blinded, either by the 
 boldness of his temper or l)y the readiness of his re- 
 sources, to the delicacy of the king's position ; he well 
 knew the financial difficulties of the government, and 
 its want of support in public o])inion ; and justly 
 apprehended the odium that would attach to the side 
 whicii should be the foremost to shed blood in civil
 
 STRAFFORD. 21 
 
 strife. Though not directly consulted, it is probable 
 that to the lord-deputy's earnest advice, in his corre- 
 spondence with the king, to remain on the defensive, 
 was chiefly owing the facility with which Charles 
 yielded to an accommodation. 
 
 Foreseeing — perhaps, designing — in that measure, 
 a delay merely of the war, Charles now sent for the 
 sole minister on whose counsels he could depend for its 
 conduct. Preceded in the atmosphere of the court 
 by dread of his paramount influence, in the nation by 
 anxious curiosity respecting its probable results, Went- 
 worth hurried over ; scarcely, in his zeal to serve his 
 master, allowing himself to be retarded by a terrible 
 attack of one of his habitual diseases, which at that 
 time weighed him down. Of several honours conferred 
 on him by the king at his arrival, the most distin- 
 guished was an earldom, by the title — which his great- 
 ness and misfortunes afterwards impressed so deeply on 
 the national memory — of Stratford. The Earl of Straf- 
 ford's advice decided the renewal of the war, and the 
 assembling of a parliament. Laying down a munificent 
 contribution towards the expense of raising an army, 
 he again, though severe illness continued to press on 
 him, hastened to Ireland; and, in an incredibly short 
 space of time, returned once more, with a large subsidy 
 from the parliament of that country, having besides 
 secured for the king a levy of eight thousand horse and 
 foot. 
 
 Not so obsequious was the parliament which now 
 met in England. Although, of the great popular 
 orators of 1628 some were wanting, and with them
 
 22 STRAFFORD. 
 
 was absent the fervid excitement of that period, yet 
 the same spirit was there — only calmer, because more 
 assured ; more cautious, because too confident to risk 
 any thing by prematurely advancing. The manifest 
 wants of the king were coldly put aside, on the old 
 ground of precedence being due to the people's griev- - 
 ances. In vain Charles, among other arguments to 
 enforce his assertion that delay was ruin, brought for- 
 ward the celebrated letter, in which the Scotch had 
 traitorously solicited aid of the French king. The oppo- 
 sition were in no haste to put down a movement, which, 
 they had long foreseen, was to be their most effective 
 auxiliary. Already an interchange of friendly offices 
 and familiar counsels had been established. It is said, 
 that Scotch intrigue had carried the election of more 
 tlian one member : that the commissioners of the Cove- 
 nanters, now in London, were in the full confidence of 
 the English party, is certain. To none were the doors 
 of the Lords Dunferline and Loudon more familiarly 
 thrown open than to Essex, Bedford, and Holland, to 
 Say, to Hampden, and to Pym. Hither came the re- 
 presentatives of every class in England who felt, or fan- 
 cied, any oppression, or indulged a hope of change ; 
 tliose who had been taxed without law, and those avIio 
 liad been imprisoned without mercy ; the haters of 
 bishops, and the friends of the presbytery ; the restless 
 patriot, who was seeking reformation of the state by 
 any means; the sullen or the smooth republican, who 
 by any means had vowed its overthrow. 
 
 The sudden dissolution of this parliament was fol- 
 lowed by tbu regret of most honest and unsuspicious
 
 STRAFFORD. 23 
 
 men; and by the rage of the populace, who had been 
 prematurely taught that the day of its assembling was 
 their time of promise. Those in the secret, who saw 
 farther, smiled — as the usurer smiles, his finger on the 
 bond, and his eye turned to the day of reckoning, when 
 the prodigal flings over to him all but his last posses- 
 sion. The blame of the dissolution has been unfairly 
 divided between the elder Vane, whose weakness, or 
 treachery, was really in fault ; and Laud, who had as 
 little share in it as any other of the king's ministers. 
 Popular odium however fixed it, as it did every sinister 
 occurrence in church or state, upon the archbishop ; 
 and this iinputation nearly cost the aged primate his 
 life, in a tumultuous assault upon his palace at Lam- 
 beth. 
 
 Meantime, in the north " rebellion prospered." 
 Lesley's army had been ready to march towards the 
 inviting south, whenever the crisis might be judged 
 meetest for " promoting," by their presence beyond the 
 border, " the peace of both nations and the honour of 
 the king." The king, on the contrary, had to contend 
 with two fatal difficulties in raising the means to 
 receive, as he thought became him, this armed visit of 
 his northern subjects — want of money, and a more 
 than unwilling disposition in his levies. At length, by 
 order of Strafford, — who, with the title of Lieutenant- 
 General, had taken the chief command, — Lord Con- 
 way, with three thousand foot and fifteen hundred 
 horse, but in a state bordering on mutiny, advanced 
 to dispute the passage of the Tyne. " When," says
 
 24 STRAFFORD. 
 
 M. Guizot, " the army came in sight of the Scots, 
 the insuhordination increased. The soldiers beheld 
 the Covenant float on their banners ; they heard 
 the drum summon the troops to sermon, and their 
 camp at sunrise resound with the voice of prayer and 
 psalmody. At this spectacle, at the accounts which 
 had reached them of the pious ardour and friendly dis- 
 positions of Scotland for the English people, by turns 
 softened to tenderness and stung with indignation, they 
 cursed the impious war, and were already vanquished, 
 for they conceived themselves brought to fight against 
 their brethren and their God." The Scots, with little 
 resistance, passed the river at Newbourne ; the English 
 retreating before them towards Yorkshire : not, per- 
 haps, so sentimentally affected as in the preceding- 
 extract they are described ; but, certainly, with such 
 a remarkable melting away of the ancient contemp- 
 tuous valour of Englishmen, when opposed to their 
 northern neighbours, as can be explained only on the 
 supposition of a strong sympathy, whether the conse- 
 quence of mutual misrepresentation, or of a sense of 
 conmiou injuries. 
 
 Indignation at the novel pusillanimity of his coun- 
 trymen, mingling with scorn for the rebel Scots, —   
 which that j)eople repaid with an animosity that 
 notliing less than his blood could assuage, — Strafford 
 wasted himself in strenuous efforts to inspire his officers 
 with the same spirit of loyalty that animated his own 
 bosom, and to put the retreating army in a condition 
 to chastise the invaders. Vain were all his exertions :
 
 STRAFFORD. 25 
 
 in spite of threats and blandishments, he was borne 
 back upon York, leaving the northern counties in the 
 undisputed possession of the enemy. 
 
 No longer able to forego the aid of his people, 
 Charles, as an alternative at once readier and less 
 galling than a parliament, now summoned, at York, a 
 great council of peers, in conformity with the feudal 
 practice of some of his predecessors. An interval of 
 fifteen days, which elapsed between the issuing of the 
 proclamation and the assembling of the council, was 
 employed by Pym, Hampden, and St. John, in pro- 
 curing the signatures of twelve noblemen to a peti- 
 tion for a parliament. A second petition, with the 
 same prayer, subscribed by ten thousand citizens of 
 London, was quickly followed by others; all set on 
 foot by the same untiring band of patriots. Charles 
 found it impossible to consider the assembly at York 
 in any other light than as an expedient to supply the 
 instant emergency. In his opening speech he an- 
 nounced a parliament for the ensuing November, and, 
 at the same time, the actual commencement of negoti- 
 ations with the Scots ; the management of the treaty 
 he consented to intrust to sixteen peers, every one of 
 whom was connected with the popular party. The 
 king desired to have it conducted at York ; but to this 
 the Covenanters, who had now the game in their own 
 hands, objected, on the pretence that Strafford, their 
 grand enemy, the chief " firebrand " of the common- 
 wealth, held the government of that city : it was, in 
 consequence, opened at Ripon. 
 
 Strafford now felt that the cause was lost, for which
 
 26 STRAFFORD, 
 
 he had so long toiled and suffered. Yet, before finally 
 sheathing his sword from so fatal and inglorious a 
 campaign, he resolved to justify the confidence he had 
 already put on record : that if the king could be per- 
 suaded even then to try his fortune in a battle, he 
 ■would undertake, on peril of his head, to drive the 
 Scots beyond their borders. A cessation of arms had 
 not yet been formally agreed upon ; Strafford therefore 
 judged it no breach of faith to the invader, to despatch 
 an officer with a troop of horse to attack his quarters in 
 Durham. The expedition was successful ; many of the 
 Covenanters were slain, and their oflScers taken pri- 
 soners. This action brought, however, no advantage to 
 the king, while it farther exasperated the earl's ene- 
 mies against himself. Loud was the outcry of the 
 Scots ; the English commissioners complained that 
 they were compromised ; finally, the king was con- 
 strained, by a strict order to Strafford to forbear, to tie 
 up the only hands that were willing to strike for his 
 cause. A second disgraceful treaty secured tlie grand 
 object of the Covenanters, and entailed on England a 
 fatal civil war, with the overthrow of the church and 
 tlic monarchy. Charles, wholly without the means 
 of paying his own troops, agreed to maintain, at an 
 enormous cost, the army of the invaders, on the soil 
 of England ; and, wlirn prudence would have dic- 
 tated the assembling of the parliament any where 
 rather than in the capital, whose disaffection was 
 notorious, Ik; not oidy convened his parliament in 
 Loudon, liut transferred to that city the comple- 
 tion of the treaty with the Scots. Tliither their
 
 STRAFFORD. 27 
 
 commissioners hastened, elated by success, and secure 
 of being surrounded with friends and partisans, and 
 with facilities of adding to their numbers and their 
 consequence. 
 
 The steps of the patriot leaders while these events 
 were passing, though secret, have not escaped the 
 search of history. Pym, their acknowledged head, is 
 said by Lord Clarendon to have continued, after the 
 unhappy dissolution, for the most part in and about 
 London, industriously improving the prevalent jea- 
 lousies and discontents. The correspondence of the 
 party with the Covenanters, established long before, 
 was now securely and diligently kept up by means of 
 the Scotch commissioners. In London their meetings 
 were held at the house of Pym, in Gray's Inn Lane. 
 In the country. Lord Say's house at Broughton, in 
 Oxfordshire, and Sir Richard Knightley's at Faws- 
 ley, in Northamptonshire, were the scenes of frequent 
 consultation. At Fawsley they had a private press in 
 active employment. It was in the convenient seclu- 
 sion of those mansions — to which tradition has at- 
 tached several anecdotes connected with events so 
 deeply interesting — that those great designs received 
 a mature shape, which were brought forward at the 
 beginning of the Long Parliament. 
 
 The issuing of the writs for that memorable con- 
 vention became the signal of fresh activity. Pym and 
 Hampden, we are told, " in the discharge of their 
 great duty, as chiefs and advisers of the people" in this 
 stirring crisis, made the circuit of all the counties of 
 England. Other members of the party were not less
 
 28 STRAFFORD. 
 
 diligent, in the respective districts where their in^ 
 fluence was strongest. Their success, in general, may 
 be inferred from the report of the Earl of Warwick ; 
 who, writing from York, so lately the residence of the 
 king, and still the head-quarters of Strafford, assures 
 them that " the game was well begun." 
 
 Though occupied with the affairs of the army, Straf- 
 ford had too high a stake in that game to remain an 
 inattentive spectator of the march of public events. 
 Magnanimous as he was, his keen eye could not but 
 rest with anxiety on that dark spot of the cloud now 
 hanging over the king's affairs, which threatened his 
 own personal safety. Perhaps, amid the presageful 
 thoughts which swept frowningly across that bright 
 but troubled sphere — the intellect of Wentworth, was 
 the parting threat of the man whom he now saw 
 every day developing larger capacities to " ride on 
 and direct" the coming " whirlwind." He sought 
 permission to return to Ireland ; alleging, that while 
 the absence from parliament of a minister so obnox- 
 ious would remove an obstacle to the settlement of the 
 king's affairs, and enable him to provide for his own 
 safety, his services would at the same time be more 
 available in that kingdom to the royal cause. But 
 Charles, who began to perceive how few friends he 
 really had, relied mainly on the genius, the energy, 
 and faitiifulncss of the lord-lieutenant to support him 
 in the approaching shock : "he could not want his 
 advice," he said, " in the great transactions that were 
 like to be in this parliament. As he was king of 
 England, be was able," he added, " to secure him
 
 STRAFFORD. 29 
 
 from any danger; and the parliament should not touch 
 a hair of his head." Strafford yielded. 
 
 The day — the 3d of November, 1640 — arrived, 
 when an eagerly expectant nation saw assemble the 
 most extraordinary and eventful parliament in English 
 history. Laud was advised to have the ceremony 
 deferred ; the 3d of November being of ill omen in 
 the history of parliaments, as signalised by the opening 
 of that, in Henry the Eighth's reign, which was fatal in 
 its commencement to Wolsey, and at its close to the 
 dominant church. As if to countenance these fore- 
 bodings, the ceremonial of the day was shorn of its 
 usual pomp. "The king," observes the noble his- 
 torian of the period, "did not ride with his accustomed 
 equipage, or in his usual majesty, to Westminster; 
 but went privately in his barge to the parliament 
 stairs, and after to the church, as if it had been to a 
 return of a prorogued or adjourned parliament." Never 
 had king of England been less supported by valour, 
 virtue, ability, or attachment in his nobles, than 
 Charles I. on that day; never had king of England 
 beheld in the Commons so many countenances ex- 
 pressive of haughty confidence in the justice of the 
 cause they designed to assert, or in their ability to 
 assert it with success, as Charles m that numerous 
 assemblage, which thronged to hear the royal speech ! 
 There stood Pym — by experience, learning, industry, 
 and a grave, yet facile eloquence, undisputed leader; 
 Hampden, formidable by his great abilities, more for- 
 midable by his arts of popularity ; the dark St. John ; 
 the accomplished Deuzil Holies ; the able though less
 
 30 STRAFFORD. 
 
 decided Nathaniel Fiennes ; the rich-minded enthu- 
 siast, the younger Vane. Of the Peers, were associated 
 with them the Earls of Bedford and Essex, the Lords 
 Kimholton and Say, who, in their house, took the lead, 
 echoed and supported hy the Earls of Warwick, Hol- 
 land, and Hertford, the Lords Brooke, Paget, and 
 William Fiennes. The truest and ablest friends to the 
 king, the admirable Falkland and the romantic Digby, 
 Hyde, Selden, Rudyard, equally distinguished by their 
 talents and their virtues, were also, at this time — as, 
 for a little longer, it became such men to be — on the 
 side of the opposition. 
 
 If the despondency of the court was indicated in 
 the absence of its accustomed splendour at that great 
 solemnity, and in the subdued tone of the king's 
 speech, its weakness also was manifest in its failing 
 to carry the election of the person whom the king 
 had designed to fill the Speaker's chair. All circum- 
 stances, indeed, surprisingly concurred to confirm the 
 patriots in their lofty ground and determined front. 
 Even Hampden, therefore, at length fitting his exterior 
 to his views, stood forth a " root and branch " reformer. 
 Their conscious strength in parliament ; the well- 
 ascertained support of opinion without ; the maturity 
 of their vast plans; — every thing justified a mien and 
 language which were characterised, not by the in- 
 decorum, but by the boldness and nerve of menace 
 and d(;fiance. In fact, the real power of the state had 
 already passed into the hands of a few bold, active, 
 and largc-tiioughted men, who embodied the national 
 demand for a secure settlement of public liberty. These
 
 STRAFFORD. 31 
 
 swayed the house hy their eloquence; governed the em- 
 pire hy their committees ; drew after them the house of 
 Peers ; and, finally, bowed the sovereign at their feet. 
 Issuing from the bar of the Lords, scarcely a member 
 entered the Commons' house without a petition in 
 strong language from his constituents against griev- 
 ances in church and state ; others were brought to 
 the door by the petitioners in person, accompanied, 
 in several instances, by processions, on horseback and 
 on foot, from distant counties. The presentation of 
 these was taken advantage of by many members to 
 deliver speeches of extreme violence and acrimony, 
 against every act of the government during the greater 
 part of the king's reign. The appointment of above 
 forty committees followed, including five called grand ; 
 i. e. committees of the whole house, for trade, religion, 
 Irish affairs, general grievances, and courts of justice. 
 These, under the mask of inquiry, assumed substantial 
 jurisdiction over all the public institutions, and over 
 the rights and liberty of the subject. A day was ap- 
 pointed for a general fast ; on which occasion both the 
 clergymen nominated to preach, respectively, before 
 the Lords and Commons, were known to be dissatisfied 
 with the existing church government; and each recom- 
 mended in his sermon a solemn league and covenant 
 for reformation. To swell the popular cry against 
 grievances, orders were issued to the gaolers to dismiss 
 from prison the victims of the law : Prynne, Bastwick, 
 and Burton, with Leighton and Lilburne, their fellow- 
 sufferers, under sentence from the courts of Star 
 Chamber and High Commission, were sent for ** to
 
 32 STRAFFORD. 
 
 prosecute before the house the business of petitions 
 presented on their behalf." So passed the first 
 week. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Earl of Strafford was still with 
 the army. His friends in parliament, startled by the 
 temper and tendency of the debates, warned him that 
 they had reason to apprehend a design to procure his 
 impeachment. He hastened up to London, ill, as 
 usual ; but not till he had taken the precaution to 
 furnish himself with such proofs of the correspondence 
 M-ith the Scots, as might justify his anticipating that 
 measure, by first impeaching his enemies. 
 
 It was the 10th of November when the earl arrived 
 in the capital. On the 11th rose Pym, in the midst of 
 a fierce debate on Ireland ; and, with the gesture of one 
 M'ho embraces on a sudden a great resolve, demanded 
 the attention of the house. He had a business, he said, 
 of that weighty importance to impart, that it might 
 reach the ears of none but members. Strangers 
 were immediately excluded from the lobby, the doors 
 locked, and the keys of the house laid upon the table. 
 The report, from Clarendon, of the speech that fol- 
 lowed, may serve, slight as it is, to convey some notion 
 both of the temper and ability of the speaker. " Mr. 
 ]*ym," says the noble historian, " in along, formed dis- 
 course, lamented the miserable state and condition of 
 the kingdom, aggravated all the particulars which had 
 been done amiss in the government, as done and con- 
 trived maliciously, and upon deliberation, to change 
 the whole frame, and to deprive the nation of all the 
 liberty and property which was tlieir birthright by
 
 ARREST OF STll AFFORD. 33 
 
 the laws of the land, which M^ere now no more con- 
 sidered, but subjected to the arbitrary power of the 
 privy council, which governed the kingdom according 
 to their will and pleasure ; these calamities falling 
 upon us in the reign of a pious and virtuous king, who 
 loved his people, and was a great lover of justice.' 
 And thereupon enlarging in some specious commeiid- 
 ation of the nature and goodness of the king, that he 
 might wound him M'itli less suspicion, he said, 'We 
 must inquire from what fountain these waters of 
 bitterness flowed ; what persons they were who had 
 so far insinuated themselves into his royal affections 
 as to be able to pervert his excellent judgment, to 
 abuse his name, and wickedly apply his authority to 
 countenance and support their own corrupt designs. 
 Though he doubted there would be many found of this 
 class, who had contributed their joint endeavours to 
 bring this misery upon the nation ; yet he believed 
 there was one more signal in that administration than 
 the rest, being a man of great parts and contrivance, 
 and of great industry to bring what he designed to 
 pass ; a man who, in the memory of many present, had 
 sat in that house an earnest vindicator of the laws, and 
 a most zealous assertor and champion for the liberties 
 of the people : but that it was long since he turned 
 apostate from those good affections, and, according to 
 the custom and nature of apostates, was become the 
 greatest enemy to the liberties of his country, and the 
 greatest pi-omoter of tyranny, that any age has pro- 
 duced.' And then he named ' the Earl of Strafford, 
 lord-licutcnant of Ireland, and lord-president of the 
 
 D
 
 34 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 council established in York, for the northern parts of 
 the kingdom ; who, he said, had in both places, and in 
 all other provinces wherein his services had been used 
 by the king, raised ample monuments of his tyrannical 
 nature ; and that he believed, if they took a short 
 survey of his actions and behaviour, they would find 
 him the principal author and promoter of all those 
 counsels which had exposed the kingdom to so much 
 ruin :' and so instanced some high and imperious 
 actions done by him in England and in Ireland, some 
 proud and over-confident expressions in discourse, and 
 some passionate advices he had given in the most 
 secret counsels and debates of the affairs of state ; 
 adding some lighter passages of his vanity and amours; 
 that they who were not inflamed with anger and de- 
 testation against him for the former, might have less 
 esteem and reverence for his prudence and discretion : 
 and so concluded, 'That they would well consider how 
 to provide a remedy proportionable to the disease, and 
 to prevent the farther mischiefs which they were to 
 expect from the continuance of this great man's power 
 and credit with the king, and his influence upon his 
 counsels.' " Several other speakers took up and car- 
 ried on the discussion ; and so passionately intent on it 
 were all sides of the house, that a request of the Lords 
 for a conference on Scotch affairs, by which they were 
 unwillingly interrupted, was put aside ; while, at the 
 same time, the Commons, by an intimation sent to 
 some of their friends in the Lords, desired that house 
 not to rise : " which," observes Clarendon, " would 
 otherwise have very much broken their measures. In
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 35 
 
 conclusion," he continues, " after many hours of bitter 
 inveighing, and ripping up the course of his life before 
 his coming to court, and his actions after, it was 
 moved, according to the secret resolution taken before, 
 ' that he might be forthwith impeached of high 
 treason.' " 
 
 Lord Falkland, though no friend to Strafford, 
 was the only man in the house — such was the sweep 
 with which Pym had carried passion, conviction, and 
 resolve, along with him — who offered to interpose, 
 by even qualifying his assent. That excellent person 
 " modestly " desired the house to consider, that it 
 might be more consistent with the dignity of their 
 proceedings to examine and digest in a committee the 
 particulars which had been brought forward, before 
 they sent up to accuse him. " Delay," it was replied 
 by Pym, "would ruin all their hopes. Such was the 
 earl's credit with the king, that if allowed to approach 
 his majesty, a dissolution of parliament, in order to 
 escape its justice, would be the certain result; whereas, 
 if they proceeded on the instant, the Lords would have 
 no alternative but to commit him to immediate cus- 
 tody." In allusion to some doubts which had been 
 thrown out, whether all the particulars alleged would, 
 if proved, amount to high treason, he added, that 
 " the House of Commons were not judges, but ac- 
 cusers only." The Lords, who probably had a sus- 
 picion that these unwonted proceedings regarded some 
 of their own body, and are accordingly supposed to 
 have sent their messengers, under cover of a con- 
 ference, in reality to gain information, were at length
 
 36 ARREST OF STRAFFORD> 
 
 relieved from suspense by the apparition of Pym 
 at their bar; where, "in the name of the Commons 
 assembled in Parliament, and of all the Commons of 
 England," he accused " Thomas Earl of Strafford, 
 lord-lieutenant of Ireland, of high treason ; " and de- 
 sired their lordshijjs, in their name, that he might 
 forthwith be committed to prison. 
 
 The scene which followed will be described in the 
 words, nearly as they stand, of that gossiping annalist 
 of the day, Principal Baillie, whose curiosity and gar- 
 rulousness, stimulated by Presbyterian spite to the 
 accused nobleman, have left posterity a narrative of 
 it, which, for graphic liveliness, no historian has 
 equalled. — " As soon as Mr. Pym withdrew, the Lords 
 began to consult on that strange and unexpected 
 motion. The word goes in haste to the lord-lieutenant, 
 where he was with the king. With speed he comes to 
 the house; he calls rudely at the door; James Max- 
 well, keeper of the black rod, opens. His lordship, 
 with a proud glooming countenance, makes towards 
 his place at the board-head : but at once many bid 
 liim quit the house ; so he is forced, in confusion, to 
 go to the door till he was called. After consultation, 
 being called in, he stands, but is commanded to kneel ; 
 and on his knees to hear the sentence. Beins: on his 
 knees, he is delivered to the keeper of the black rod, 
 to 1)6 prisoner till he was cleared of those crimes the 
 House of Commons had charged hiin with. He offered 
 to speak, but was commanded to be gone without a 
 word. In the outer room, Maxwell required him, as a 
 prisoner, to deliver his sword. When he had got it,
 
 
 M
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 37 
 
 he cries, with a loud voice, for his man to carry my 
 lord-lieutenant's sword. This done, he makes through 
 a number of people towards his coach ; all gazing, no 
 man capping to him, before whom, that morning, the 
 greatest of England would have stood uncovered. 
 Coming to the place where he expected his coach, it 
 was not there ; so he behoved to return that same way, 
 through a world of gazing people. When at last he 
 had found his coach, and was entering, Maxwell told 
 him, ' Your lordship is my prisoner, and must go in 
 my coach ; ' so he behoved him to do." From the 
 house of this James Maxwell, who presents no unim- 
 portant figure in the events of the period, the earl 
 was, after a few days, committed to the Tower; that 
 last home, on earth, of so many of the great and brave 
 of England. 
 
 This terrible feat of infant Freedom shews to 
 what strength she had already been fostered in her 
 cradle, the Commons' house of Parliament. To venture 
 to will, to dare to resolve, was all that was now needed 
 there to give success to any project conceived in her 
 name. With a hurried hand, merely, can we touch 
 even the prominent incidents that now marked her 
 growth. Persons who had been in any way. concerned 
 in monopolies, were voted by the house to be unworthy 
 of occupying its benches. The ship-money tax, and the 
 judgment in Hampden's case, were declared subversive 
 of property, of the laws, of the resolutions of former 
 parliaments, and of the Petition of Rights. A petition 
 prepared at the instance of the Scotch commissioners^ 
 signed by fifteen thousand inhabitants of London,
 
 38 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 praying that episcopal government might be abo- 
 lished, with all its dependencies, roots, and branches, 
 was received without objection. In this petition Laud 
 was struck at — the remaining great obstacle in the 
 ])ath of reform. Farther to prepare the way for the 
 archbishop's impeachment, the canons issued by the 
 convocation, which sat during and for some time after 
 the last parliament, were condemned as contrary to 
 the fundamental laws of the realm, the prerogatives of 
 the king, and the rights of the subject ; while articles 
 were delivered, in a conference of the two houses, by 
 the Scotch commissioners, in which he was charged, 
 with Strafford, as the prime author of all the miseries 
 that had befallen the two nations. Two days later, viz. 
 18th December, an accusation of high treason was 
 brought forward against " William Laud, archbishop of 
 Canterbury," in the name of the Commons of England. 
 It was adopted, after a short but strongly vituperative 
 debate led by Pym : for this time, however, the leader 
 waved his peculiar office, and Denzil Holies carried up 
 the impeachment to the bar of the Lords. The pri- 
 mate was consigned to the custody of Maxwell ; and 
 after a costly durance of ten weeks, under the roof of 
 that useful person, the gates of the Tower opened 
 to him likewise. 
 
 Retribution now reached minor delinquents. Sir 
 George Ratcliffc, who, as the friend and " confede- 
 rate " of Strafford, had been sent for from Ireland, 
 immediately after the earl's impeachment, on an accu- 
 sation of treason, followed his master to the Tower. 
 Informations were laid against the Bishops of Ely and
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 39 
 
 Bath, and against a Durham prebendary, for " idolatry 
 and superstition ; " they were obliged to give securities, 
 the prelates to the amount of 10,000/. each, the pre- 
 bendary in 4000/. " Complaints," we are told, by 
 the historian of Puritanism, " were made against 
 several other bishops and clergymen, but the house 
 had too many affairs upon their hands to attend to 
 their prosecution." Yet the records of parliament shew 
 that the clergy of inferior rank were not so commonly 
 overlooked, as minor delinquents among the laity 
 certainly were ; and it is observable that, from the 
 opening of the session, accusations against all classes of 
 ecclesiastics were entertained with marked encourage- 
 ment. Windebanke, the secretary of state, and the 
 lord-keej^er Finch, were driven to the Continent, to 
 avoid the charges of high treason suspended over them. 
 Such of the other judges as had concurred with Finch 
 in the decision respecting ship-money, were bound in 
 recognisances to the amount of 10,000/. each, to abide 
 the judgment of parliament ; one only. Sir Robert 
 Berkeley, excepted. That " learned man, and good 
 orator and judge," as Whitelocke styles him, was im- 
 peached before the Lords, and by their command taken 
 off the bench, in the open court, by their usher 
 Maxwell, and carried to prison: "which," the memo- 
 rialist subjoins, " struck a great terror in the rest of 
 his brethren then sitting in Westminster Hall, and in 
 all his profession." Prynne and his fellow-martyrs, in 
 obedience to the order of the Commons, entered London 
 in triumph, amidst the acclamations of the citizens ; 
 their sentences were declared illegal, and heavy
 
 40 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 damasfes were awarded them out of the estates of 
 the archbishop and the other members of the council 
 wlio had sat on their trial. The house also voted 
 a gratuity of 300,000/. to their " brethren" of Scot- 
 land. We might wonder whither had flown the 
 valiant and haughty spirit of the English, when we 
 find them thus lavishing endearments and liberality on 
 those who, at this time, actually held, as if by right 
 of conquest, some of the best provinces of England ; 
 dill we not know that, independently of all party ex- 
 aggeration, the vexations of the people had been such, 
 as made them w^illing to hold out the grateful hand 
 of fellowship to any party who brought, or professed 
 to bring, deliverance for them from the evils of arbi- 
 trary power. As to the parliamentary leaders, they 
 were not to be deterred by the remonstrances of 
 national honour, from a vote which at once so deeply 
 obliged their serviceable friends, and added to the 
 embarrassments of the sovereis-n. 
 
 In the midst of every other business, the great 
 affair of Strafford's impeachment was zealously urged 
 forward. For more than four months, through which 
 the preliminary arrangements extended, the anxious 
 attention and boundless power of the House of Commons 
 were taxed, that notliing migiit be left undone to 
 secure justice on the accused, to manifest the dignity 
 and authority of the house, and to vindicate the laws. 
 On the side of the defence, the way was not so clear. 
 It has already been noticed that Strafford's impeach- 
 ment \v:is instantly followed up by that of his friend 
 and assistant Ratclilie ; at the same time, all inter-
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 41 
 
 course between the prisoners, and all visits to either from 
 members of parliament, were prohibited. The Com- 
 mons were unwilling- that counsel should be allowed ; 
 this, though overruled by the Lords, in respect to points 
 of law, was agreed to as regarded matter of fact : in- 
 tending to manage the accusation bv their own mem- 
 bers, the Commons desired to be present at the trial as 
 a house of parliament ; the Lords not assenting, it Avas 
 agreed they should sit as a committee of the whole 
 house. The articles of accusation, as reported by the 
 committee of impeachment, at their first presentation 
 in November, were only nine ; as finally taken up 
 to the Lords by Pym, on the 30th of December, they 
 had swelled to the number of twenty- eight. These 
 charges were of great length, and referred to the 
 public and private incidents of fourteen years of a life 
 of unusual activity. The earl desired three months to 
 prepare his answer : the Commons opposed : the Lords 
 directed three weeks to be allowed ; at the end of 
 which period, February 24th, the answers to each 
 several accusation were read to the house in the 
 presence of the king, and the trial was fixed for the 
 22d of the following month. 
 
 While these preparations were in progress, nothing 
 was omitted on Charles's part which appeared likely 
 to soften the hostility of Strafford's enemies. He sent 
 for the houses, and addressed them in an exceedingly 
 conciliatory speech. He had been long and loudly 
 inveighed against for suffering the impunity of Papists: 
 he now placed at the disposal of the Commons the life 
 of a condemned priest, on whom they had desired
 
 42 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 justice to be done. He consented to a bill for triennial 
 parliaments ; and intimated bis willingness to wave 
 tbe claims of tbe crown in regard to the royal forests. 
 A further plan to which the king yielded, was no less 
 than to throw the great offices of state into the hands 
 of the patriots. The framework of a cabinet, to be 
 constructed on this principle, was actually laid down, 
 and the project in part executed. But the members 
 disagreeing on the two great conditions required by 
 the king, — viz. security to the church, and the 
 preservation of Strafford, — the negotiation fell to the 
 ground, leaving the whole party more incensed than 
 ever. Finally, Charles gave what has justly been 
 termed a " suicidal" consent to the examination of the 
 members of his privy council, on oath, at the approach- 
 ing trial. 
 
 Strafford's trial was the most solemn and august 
 judicial incpiiry, in its circumstances, as it was the most 
 elaborate in its preparation, which England had ever 
 witnessed. It was for the life or death — or rather, 
 for the death only ; for that was a point to be gained, 
 at all events — of one so great and dangerous, that 
 three realms rose up by their representatives to be 
 his accusers; and, as the day approached, the eyes 
 of their millions of citizens (of whom all, and to the 
 remotest posterity of each, had a vital interest involved) 
 were turned, with earnest emotion, towards West- 
 minster Hall ; that largest abode of " the British 
 Nemesis" being chosen as alone not unworthy of the 
 occasion. 
 
 At an early hour on the appointed morning the
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 43 
 
 nohle prisoner came from the Tower, accompanied by 
 the lieutenant and one hundred soldiers, armed with 
 partizans, in six barges, rowed by fifty pair of oars. 
 On landing at Westminster, he was received by double 
 the number of the trained bands ; those citizen- 
 soldiers, whose subsequent familiarity with the view of 
 great men in adversity had now its beginning, in the 
 instance of one who in bearing it nobly has not been 
 excelled. Disease and care — not age — had begun 
 to impress on Strafford the appearance of bodily 
 decay ; but his countenance was marked with intel- 
 lectual vigour, and bore the impress of authority. 
 Awed, in spite of hate, by the actual presence of 
 the individual whose name had often stirred them 
 with terror, the crowd falls backj even the rudest 
 vail their bonnets — a token of respect which the 
 earl courteously acknowledges. 
 
 The entrance by which Strafford was brought into 
 the hall was on one side, at the lower end. He is 
 preceded by Maxwell; advancing to whom, an officer 
 inquires whether the axe is to be borne before the 
 prisoner: "The king," replies Maxwell, "has ex- 
 pressly forbidden it!" Balfour, the lieutenant, now 
 conducts the accused to the bar, where a space, fur- 
 nished with seats and a bench, is enclosed for him, 
 for his gaoler, his counsel, and secretaries. " After 
 obeisances given," he kneels; and, rising, looks calmly 
 round upon a scene of imposing grandeur. 
 
 In the centre of that proud historic chamber sit 
 Strafford's judges, the Lords of England. They are 
 covered, and all wear the habits of temporal peers ;
 
 44 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 for the prelates have been persuaded to take no part 
 in the judgment. With them, in scarlet robes, appear 
 the lord-keeper and his brethren of the legal bench ; 
 and, at their head, fronting his compeers, sits the 
 Earl of Arundel, for this occasion lord high-steward 
 of England. At the upper end of the hall, under a 
 canopy of state above the peers, are placed two raised 
 seats, designed for the king and the Prince of Wales, 
 but unoccupied. On either side the canopy of state 
 runs a small gallery, closed with trellis-work ; one of 
 these contains the king and queen, the prince, and 
 their attendants ; the other accommodates such fo- 
 reigners of distinction as have been attracted by this 
 high solemnity. Scaffolds, rising stage above stage, 
 on each side of the hall, are filled, respectively, by 
 the great accusing parties; the Commons of England, 
 uncovered, on the lower benches ; in those above, 
 their assessors, the Lords of Ireland and the Com- 
 missioners of Scotland : with whom are mingled many 
 spectators, mostly persons of quality. The peeresses 
 and other ladies present occupy a gallery at the foot 
 of the throne. Adjoining the place assigned to the 
 accused, a similar space encloses the managers of the 
 impeachment ; a band of the ablest lawyers and 
 most eloquent statesmen of that great age of English 
 intellect. 
 
 The lord-steward rises, and commands the trial to 
 proceed. 
 
 The treason charged against the prisoner, it was 
 contended by his accusers, was either particular, con- 
 sisting in individual acts of a treasonable nature; or
 
 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 45 
 
 cumulative, the aggregate result of many acts tending 
 to a treasonable design. The articles of impeachment 
 were distributed over his whole official life, — as pre- 
 sident of the North; in his government of Ireland; as 
 chief minister, since his return, of England. In pro- 
 portion, however, as it became clear that the evidence 
 could not sustain this accumulated charge, the Com- 
 mons altered their accusation to " an attempt to 
 subvert the fundamental laws of the country, and to 
 introduce an arbitrary and tyrannical government." 
 But, as no such offence is specified in the statute, or 
 recognised by the common law, they demanded that he 
 should be tried, not merely by the rules of the courts, 
 but by certain maxims said to be inherent in what we 
 now call the constitution. 
 
 To Pyra, chiefly — if not to him alone — belonged 
 the credit of that philosophic tact, or that vindictive 
 boldness, by which it was resolved to carry out the 
 substantial allegation, beyond the reach of law, into 
 the awful, but dangei'ous and indefinite, regions of 
 Eternal Right. Into that abyss, whither an arbitrary 
 power in a state may, at any time, on the falsest 
 pretences, thrust to their destruction the doomed victims 
 of its will, Strafford, remembering he stood before the 
 legal tribunal of his peers, deemed it needless to look : 
 with the question as one of law, it Avas not hard for 
 such a mind to deal. 
 
 For fifteen days, he, with manifest success, directed 
 his defence to this point. Though suffering grievously 
 from disease, and surrounded with embarrassing diffi- 
 culties, some, and the worst of them, thrown in his
 
 46 ARREST OF STRAFFORD. 
 
 way by his accusers, once only in all that time did he 
 permit himself to be led by his natural heat of temper 
 to make a recriminatory observation. He asserted, in- 
 deed, on all occasions, his right; when that was allowed, 
 modestly thanked his judges; complained not when it 
 was refused ; and, in reference to an angry and insult- 
 ing remark by one of the managers, on his insisting upon 
 a point of order, which he regarded as of vital import- 
 ance to his defence, merely observed, that he thought 
 he had as good a right to defend his life, as any person 
 had to endeavour to take it away. His eloquence, 
 acknowledged by his accusers to have been " full of 
 weight and reason," was regulated by manly temper, 
 combined with the finest flow of diction and the most 
 finished grace of delivery ; while his countenance, 
 exhibiting a severe loftiness, natural to the man, witli 
 conscious intellectual power, shaded by suffering and 
 a just sensibility to his condition, harmonised well 
 both with his past greatness and his present misfor- 
 tunes. The effect is described as strikingly favour- 
 able. The clergy, the courtiers, above all, the ladies in 
 that illustrious auditory, are loud in admiration. The 
 general sentiment penetrates to the judicial benches; 
 and the Commons perceive, with undissembled vex- 
 ation, that the peers are recovering the courage to 
 be just. Vehement cries of " Witlidravv ! withdraw!" 
 resounding from their galleries, startle the court. The 
 members retire within their own walls, and there, amid 
 tumultuous confusion, debate the question, " What is 
 next to be done?"
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 The genius of Pym had long since anticipated the 
 reply. Should so pernicious a foe to liberty be allowed 
 to escape for want of a specific statute, or known law, 
 capable of reaching his great crimes ? It was not to be 
 thought of! To the remedy for their difficulties he had 
 pointed, when he argued for the existence of a treason 
 against the principle of justice, as well as treason in 
 violation of the law ; for a treason against the people, 
 no less than against the sovereign. The remedy was a 
 bill of attainder — the ready instrument of tyranny, 
 and tacitly acknowledged such by these statesmen 
 themselves, when they inserted in it the much-lauded 
 proviso (what action may not win praise from parti- 
 sans?) that this attainder should not be acted upon by 
 the judges as a precedent in determining the crime of 
 treason. To give the necessary support to his plan, 
 Pym, resorting once more to the solemnity of closed 
 doors, announced a discovery involving important 
 supplemental evidence of Strafford's guilt. It con- 
 sisted in a minute of the privy council on Scotch 
 affairs, in May, purporting to contain M'ords spoken by
 
 48 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 Strafford to the king, advising his majesty to employ 
 the army of Ireland to reduce England. These mi- 
 nutes had fortunately been found by the younger Vane, 
 in his father's library. The bill — it was already pre- 
 pared — was produced, and instantly read. The trial 
 now proceeded upon the additional evidence ; to which 
 Strafford having replied, was called upon to make his 
 final answer to the facts. 
 
 The earl began by alluding to the advantages pos- 
 sessed by his accusers, and — in gentle terms — to the 
 violence with which those advantages had been pressed, 
 to bear down a man standinjr alone ao;ainst the whole 
 authority and power of the House of Commons ; his 
 health impaired, his memory weakened, the order of 
 his thoughts discomposed. In a tone of cheerful and 
 generous confidence, he threw himself upon the justice 
 of his judges; giving God thanks that they were the 
 peers of England, and celebrating the wisdom of those 
 times " which had so ordained." 
 
 " My lords," he said, " I have learned that in this 
 case, which I did not know before, that there are trea- 
 sons of two kinds — statute treasons, and treasons con- 
 structive and arbitrary. First, then, I shall, as I hope, 
 clear myself of statute, and then shall come to con- 
 structive, treason." 
 
 Having, at great length, and with surprising acute- 
 ness and force, replied severally to the ai'ticles which 
 charged him with treason against the statute, he pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " My lords, I have all along watched to see if I 
 could find that poisoned arrow that should envenom
 
 Strafford's farewell. 49 
 
 all the rest, — that deadly cup of wine, that should 
 intoxicate a few alleged inconveniences and misdemea- 
 nours, to run them up to high treason. That those 
 should be treason together that are not treason in any 
 one part, and where one thing will not do it of itself, 
 yet woven with others it shall do it, — I conceive, my 
 lords, under favour, that neither statute law nor com- 
 mon law hath declared this. It is hard I should here 
 be questioned for my life and honour upon a law that 
 is not extant, that cannot ^be shewed. My lords, 
 where has this fire been lying all this while, so many 
 hundred years together, that no smoke should appear 
 till it burst out now, to consume me and my children ? 
 That a punishment should precede promulgation of a 
 law ; that I should be punished by a law subsequent to 
 the fact, is extreme hard ! What man can be safe, if 
 this be admitted ? It is hard in another respect, — 
 that there should be no token set by which we should 
 know this offence, no admonition given by which we 
 should avoid it. Where is the mark, where is the 
 token upon this crime, to discover it to be high trea- 
 son ? My lords, be pleased to have that regard to the 
 peerage of England, as never to expose yourselves 
 to such moot points, such constructive interpretations 
 of law ; if there must be a trial of wits, let the subject 
 be of somethino; else than the lives and honours of 
 peers. It will be wisdom in your lordships, for your- 
 selves, your posterity, and for the whole kingdom, to 
 cast into the fire those bloody and mysterious volumes 
 of constructive and arbitrary treason, as the Christians 
 in the primitive time did their books of curious arts, 
 
 E
 
 50 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 and betake yourselves to the plain letter of the statute, 
 that tells you what is and what is not treason ; and not 
 to be ambitious to be more learned in those killing 
 arts than our forefathers ! It is now full two hundred 
 and forty years since any man was touched for this 
 alleged crime, to this height, before myself. Let us 
 not awaken these sleeping lions to our destructions, 
 by raking up a few dusty records that have lain by the 
 wall so many ages, forgotten or neglected. May it 
 please you, my lords, not to add this to my other mis- 
 fortunes, that a precedent should be derived from me, 
 so disadvantageous as this will be to the whole king- 
 dom. Do not, through me, wound the interest of the 
 commonwealth : and howsoever those gentlemen say 
 they speak for the commonwealth, yet, in this parti- 
 cular, I indeed speak for it, and shew the inconve- 
 niences and mischiefs that will fall upon it : for, as it is 
 expressed in the statute of Henry the Fourth, 'no man 
 will know what to do or say for fear of such penalties.' 
 Do not, my lords, put such great difficulties upon 
 ministers of state, that men of wisdom, of honour, and 
 of fortune, may not with cheerfulness and safety be 
 employed for the public : if you weigh and measure 
 them by grains and scruples, the public affairs of the 
 kingdom will lie waste ; no man will meddle with 
 them who hath any thing to lose. 
 
 " My lords, I have troubled you longer than I 
 should have done, were it not for the interest of those 
 dear pledges a saint in heaven hath left me." [At this 
 word, we are told, he stopped a while, letting fall some 
 tears to her memory; then he went on.] " What I
 
 Strafford's farewell. 51 
 
 forfeit for myself is nothing ; but that my indiscretion 
 should extend to my posterity, wounds me to the very 
 soul. You will pardon my infirmity, — something I 
 would have added, hut am not able ; therefore let it 
 pass. And now, my lords, for myself I have been, by 
 the blessing of Almighty God, taught that ' the afflic- 
 tions of this present life are not to be compared with 
 the eternal weight of glory which shall be revealed 
 hereafter.' And so, my lords, even so, with all tran- 
 quillity of mind, I submit myself freely to your judg- 
 ment ; and, whether (be concluded, looking upward,) 
 that judgment be of life or death, Te Deum lauda- 
 Mus : IN Te, Domine, confido!" 
 
 The effect of this noble and touching address upon 
 the audience in general, may be understood from the 
 following testimony, subjoined to the report of it, for 
 which we are indebted to Whitelocke, the chaii'man of 
 the committee of impeachment. " Certainly," writes 
 that honest adversary of Strafford, " never any man 
 acted such a part, on such a theatre, with more wis- 
 dom, constancy, and eloquence, with greater reason, 
 judgment, and temper, and with a better grace in all 
 his words and gestures, than this great and excellent 
 person did ; and he moved the hearts of all bis 
 auditors (some few excepted) to remorse and pity." 
 Pym had prepared a reply, — in force of reasoning 
 and condensed power of language, worthy of a juster 
 cause ; in sanguinary violence, far exceeding every 
 thing hitherto drawn forth by this memorable trial. 
 Among many sterling passages, it contains a descrip- 
 tion of law, equalled only by the famous one in
 
 52 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 Hooker. " The law," says the Commons' orator, " is 
 that which puts a difference betwixt good and evil, 
 betwixt just and unjust. If you take away the law, 
 all things will fall into a confusion : every man will 
 become a law to himself, which, in the depraved con- 
 dition of human nature, must needs produce many 
 enormities. Lust will become a law, and envy will 
 become a law, covetousness and ambition will become 
 laws ; and what dictates, what decisions such laws 
 will produce, may easily be discerned in the late 
 government of Ireland." These sentences were re- 
 peatedly quoted, or referred to, in the able proclam- 
 ations and manifestoes, from the pen of Clarendon, 
 put forth by the king at a subsequent period ; when 
 the same men who had once started so honourably, 
 were recklessly hurrying forward over the prostrate 
 ruins of the constitution. From statements so just 
 and philosophic, Pyni could pass, however, to the 
 following tone of truculent aggravation : " The for- 
 feitures inflicted for treason, by our law, are of life, 
 honour, and estate, even all that can be forfeited ; and 
 this prisoner having committed so many treasons, 
 although he should pay all these forfeitures, will be 
 still a debtor to the commonwealth. ]\othing can be 
 more equal, than that he should perish by the justice 
 of tiiat law which he would have subverted. Neither 
 will this be a new way of blood. There are marks 
 enough to trace this law to the very original of this 
 kingdom ; and if it hath not been put in execution, as 
 he allegeth, these two hundred and forty years, it was 
 not for want of law, but that all that time hath not
 
 Strafford's farewell. 53 
 
 bred a man bold enough to commit such crimes as 
 these ! " 
 
 At this point an incident occurred that shook 
 the orator's firmness. During the delivery of this 
 speech, the earl had frequently regarded his accuser 
 with an earnest look. At length, just as the above 
 words were uttered, their eyes met. What sudden 
 feeling smote through the " firm nerves " of the pur- 
 suer, as he caught the steady gaze of his great quarry, 
 once his admired associate, can only be conjectured. 
 He loses, however, his self-possession, — falters, — 
 stops ; with trembling hands he seeks, among his 
 papers, somewhat towards the next paragraph of pre- 
 meditated invective. " They could not help him," 
 writes an eye-witness ; and, amidst the evident im- 
 patience of the hall, he huddles up the unheeded con- 
 clusion. 
 
 The law which exacted Strafford's blood was not 
 yet in the statute-book. Persuasion had not reached 
 the Lords. Now, therefore, the whole strength of 
 the party was to be applied to force on the bill of 
 attainder. Selden, the most learned and venerable of 
 the advocates of freedom — Holborne, the least corrupt- 
 ible of the judges, argued against that sanguinary 
 enactment. Digby, as long as he believed there was 
 evidence against the earl of high treason, one of his 
 severest accusers, became now his advocate ; and pro- 
 tested vehemently against the shedding of his blood. 
 But opposition served only to whet the eagerness of 
 pursuit. The language of St. John was the raving of a 
 fury. Strafford asked to be heard against the bill : he
 
 54 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 was denied. On the 21st of April it was read a tliii-d 
 time in the Commons ; and the same afternoon Pym 
 hurried up with it to the Peers, with a special demand 
 for expedition ! 
 
 Actuated more by motives of conscience and kingly 
 honour than by pei'sonal attachment, Charles resolved, 
 at all hazards, to save his unfortunate minister. He 
 assured Strafford by letter, tliat, " upon the word of a 
 king, he should not suffer, in life, honour, or for- 
 tune ;" and what he said, he fully designed. But the 
 king was in the power of the Commons. By his conni- 
 vance, large offers were made to Balfour, the lieutenant 
 of the Tower, to suffer the escape of his prisoner : the 
 stern Scotchman remained true to the cause espoused 
 by his nation, and revealed every thing. The troops 
 were discontented at the preference given to the Scotch, 
 in the article of pay ; the king was privy to an intrigue, 
 founded on this circumstance, the object of winch was, 
 to overawe the parliament by bringing the army into 
 the neighbourhood of the metropolis : it was instantly 
 betrayed to the popular leaders. Baffled in every 
 more decided attempt to save his minister, Charles, in 
 the extremity of his distress, took what proved to be 
 a fatal step. He went down to parliament and ad- 
 dressed the liouses, acknowledging that Strafford had 
 been guilty of misdemeanours, and promising never 
 again to employ him in his affairs ; but added, that 
 having been present and heard the whole of the evi- 
 dence at the trial, he in his conscience acquitted him 
 of high treason, and could not give his assent to the 
 bill of attainder.
 
 Strafford's farewell. 55 
 
 A more unfortunate course could not have been 
 pursued. The Commons exclaimed loudly against this 
 declaration, as an attempt upon their privileges. The 
 next day being Sunday, the party — to use an expression 
 of Queen Elizabeth's — "tuned the pulpits" of the 
 Presbyterians to the cry of " Justice on the great de- 
 linquent;" and on the Monday armed multitudes, set 
 on by the same instigation, placarded the names of 
 fifty-nine members of the House of Commons who 
 had voted with Lord Digby against the bill, and occu- 
 pied the passages to the House of Lords ; insulting 
 the peers on account of their delay, with shouts of 
 " Justice and execution ! Justice and execution ! " and 
 openly, before the windows of Whitehall, demanding 
 the blood of Strafford. By these means the judges 
 were intimidated to deliver an ojDinion, that on certain 
 of the charges the earl was guilty in law ; and it is 
 said that some of the bishops (the absence of Laud 
 had been wisely provided for !), to whom the king 
 appealed in his despair, advised him to yield, by means 
 of a quibbling argument, grounded on the distinction 
 between what he owed to his conscience, as a man, 
 and what as a sovereign. Pym seized the moment 
 to announce the discovery of the " army plot," — the 
 doors, as usual, when a great blow was to be struck 
 being previously closed. Terrible things were added, 
 of corresponding dangers from abroad. All day the 
 house continued in debate, which at night issued in 
 the famous " Protestation," imitated from the "Solemn 
 League and Covenant" of Scotland. Following up 
 the prodigious impulse given by these, and other
 
 56 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 methods of excitement, the Commons then bring in a 
 bill for securing the perpetuity of the parliament. It 
 passes the Lords. Three days later, in a thin house, 
 and by a small majority, the bill of attainder likewise 
 passes. Together they are presented to the king, 
 with pressing entreaties to his majesty to preserve 
 the peace of the kingdom by an immediate assent. 
 With a magnanimity worthy his character, Strafford 
 himself implores his aflBicted master to withdraw his 
 pledge, and, by assenting to the bill, seal a " blessed 
 agreement" between himself and his subjects. " Sir," 
 he writes, "my consent shall more acquit you herein to 
 God, than all the world can do besides : to a willing 
 man there is no injury done." 
 
 In agony the king passed the interval which he 
 had required to consider his final answer to the 
 solicitations of the two houses ; and at the close of it 
 subscribed, with tears, a commission to the Earl of 
 Arundel, and two other lords, to give the required 
 assent, scarcely noticing in his distress that other no 
 less fatal enactment. The next day, when Secretary 
 Carlton announced the terrible decision, and explained 
 its motives, to the earl, a moment's flush of that attach- 
 ment to life, common alike to all, which religious 
 trust, generous greatness of soul, or even the resolves 
 of a strong intellect, can crush, but not extinguish, 
 came over him. Some surprise appeared in his coun- 
 tenance ; he inquired if it was so indeed ; rose up from 
 his chair ; and, with uplifted hands, exclaimed, in the 
 words of the Psalmist, " Put not your trust in princes 
 nor in the sons of men ! "
 
 Strafford's farewell. 57 
 
 Laud, the associate of his greatness, and the com- 
 panion of his fall, had some time previously become 
 the earl's neighbour in the Tower. The steps by which 
 he was transferred thither may be here briefly traced. 
 
 It is probable, that, at the time of the primate's 
 impeachment, no intention existed to take away liis 
 life: it was thought sufficient to keep him from mis- 
 chief, and let him find, it might be, a grave in prison. 
 Before passing into the custody of Maxwell, he had 
 permission to go over to Lambeth, and select some 
 papers and books for his defence. He remained there 
 till night, and attended prayers, for the last time, in 
 his own chapel. When the hour arrived for his de- 
 parture, he found hundreds of his poor neighbours 
 waiting to receive his benediction, and praying for his 
 safe return. Such particulars are worthy to be re- 
 lated, in the story of a man whom even they who 
 admit his virtues scarcely believe to have been capable 
 of inspiring attachment. 
 
 Towards the latter end of February, the archbishop 
 was ordered to attend the House of Lords and hear 
 the articles of impeachment read. Pym appeared at 
 the bar in support of the accusation ; but his speech on 
 this occasion did not display those marks of a powerful 
 intellect, engaged in its chosen vocation, which shone 
 so brilliantly through his arguments against Strafford. 
 Laud having now permission to speak, enlarged at 
 some length upon the charge ; which, he said, was 
 great and heavy, and such, indeed, that he should 
 regard himself as unworthy to live, if it could be made 
 good. On the 1st of March he was committed to the
 
 58 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 Tower; in his passage through the City, "baited" 
 by the rabble with a degree of brutality which deeply 
 shocked even his gaoler, Maxwell. No intercourse 
 between the great and unfortunate friends was al- 
 lowed ; but Laud derived some consolation from the 
 reports made to him by Balfour, of many expressions 
 of reverence and affection towards himself which the 
 earl had been heard to utter. 
 
 Strafford's days were now literally numbered. The 
 royal assent to the bill of attainder was given on 
 Monday ; Wednesday was fixed for his execution ; 
 nor could the utmost endeavours of the afflicted king 
 — negotiation, entreaty, supplication, — to all of them 
 he resorted, — procure so much as a short respite. 
 The earl employed the interval in calmly settling his 
 affairs. He wrote a petition to the House of Lords, 
 entreating them, in terms perhaps too humble, to 
 have compassion on his innocent children ; addressed 
 a letter to his wife, bidding her affectionately to sup- 
 port her courage, and accompanied it with an address 
 of final advice and instruction to his eldest son, ex- 
 quisite for its pathos, its wisdom, and deep religious 
 tone. He had tender and tearful farewells for other 
 friends beside ; but the most solemn he reserved for 
 Laud. 
 
 The day previous to his execution, Strafford sent 
 for the lieutenant of the Tower, and requested to know 
 if he might speak with the archbishop. Balfour 
 replied, that such an indulgence was contrary to his 
 peremptory orders. " Master lieutenant," said lie, with 
 melanclioly j)layfulness, " you shall hear what passes
 
 Strafford's farewell. 59 
 
 between ns. It is not a time either for him to plot 
 heresy or me to plot treason." The lieutenant sug- 
 gested that he should petition the parliament. " No," 
 rejoined the earl ; " I have gotten my despatch from 
 them, and will trouble them no more. I am now 
 petitioning a higher court, where neither partiality can 
 be expected, nor error feared." He then turned to thei 
 primate of Ireland (Usher), who had been permitted to 
 attend him, and said, " My lord, I will tell you what 
 I should have spoken to my lord's grace of Canter- 
 bury. You shall desire the archbishop to lend me 
 his prayers to-night, and to give md his blessing 
 when I go abroad to-morrow ; and that he will be 
 in his window, that by my last farewell I may give 
 him thanks for this and all his former favours." 
 Laud, on receiving this message, replied that he 
 was bound, by every obligation of duty and affec- 
 tion, to comply with the request; but feared that 
 his weakness and passion would not lend him eyes to 
 behold the departure of his friend. The next morn- 
 ing, when Strafford was on his way to the scaffold, as 
 he approached the apartment of the archbishop, he 
 remarked to the lieutenant that he did not see him : 
 " nevertheless," continued he, " give me leave, I pray 
 you, to do my last observance towards his chamber." 
 An attendant, in the meantime, having apprised the 
 archbishop of his approach, he staggered to the win- 
 dow. The earl perceiving him, exclaimed, bowing 
 himself to the ground, " My lord, your prayers and 
 your blessing!" The aged primate lilted up his 
 hand, pronounced his benediction, and, overcome with
 
 60 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 anguish, fell fainting* to the earth. Strafford added 
 these parting words — " Farewell, my lord; God pro- 
 tect your innocency!" and passed calmly onwards. 
 At the gate of the Tower, the lieutenant wished him to 
 enter a coach, lest the enraged populace should rush 
 upon him to tear him in pieces. " No," said he, 
 " Mr. Lieutenant; I dare look death in the face, and, 
 I hope, the people too. Have you a care that I do 
 not escape. 'Tis all one how I die ; whether by the 
 stroke of the executioner, or the madness and fury of 
 the people, if that may content them." And, being 
 freer than usual from bodily infirmities, he walked 
 onward, "'oing: before the guards, with a serene vet 
 somewhat elated countenance, like a general (as was 
 observed) at the head of his troops. He was habited 
 in black, with white gloves on his hands. A numerous 
 crowd, consisting of not less than one hundred thou- 
 sand persons, stretched in long perspective across 
 Tower Hill ; to whom he frequently took off his hat, 
 and saluted them as he passed. 
 
 Having ascended the scaffold, followed by Sir 
 George Wentworth, the primate Usher, and others of 
 his friends, he knelt down, and, rising, examined the 
 block. He then intimated his desire to speak to the 
 people. " I am here," he said, " to pay my last debt 
 to sin, which is death; and I solemnly declare, in the 
 presence of Almighty God, in whose mercies I trust, 
 that in all my service to his majesty, however it be my 
 ill fortune to have my acts misconstrued, I had never 
 any intention but to promote the joint prosperity of 
 the king and his people. I wish tl)is kingdom all
 
 Strafford's farewell. 61 
 
 prosperity and happiness ; I wished it living, I wish it 
 dying. But let every one consider seriously, whether 
 the beginning of the people's happiness should be 
 written in letters of blood." After making protest- 
 ation of his faith and devotion to the Church of Eng;- 
 land, and his cheerful forgiveness of his enemies, 
 " One thing," he continued, " I desire to be heard in, 
 and do hope that for Christian charity's sake I shall 
 be believed. I was so far from being against par- 
 liaments, that I have always thought parliaments in 
 England to be the happy constitution of the kingdom, 
 and the best means under God to make the king and 
 his people happy." 
 
 He then turned to take leave of his friends. To 
 each he affectionately gave his hand. '* Gentlemen," 
 lie said, " I would say my prayers; and I entreat you 
 all to pray with me, and for me." Again standing up, 
 he perceived his brother, Sir George Wentworth, weep- 
 ing excessively. " Brother," said he to him, *' what do 
 you see in me to cause these tears? Does any inde- 
 cent fear betray in me guilt, or my innocent boldness 
 want of religion ? Think that you are now accom- 
 panying me once more to my marriage-bed. That 
 block must be my pillow, and here I must rest from 
 all my labours. No thoughts of envy, no dreams of 
 treason, no jealousies or cares for the king, the state, 
 or myself, shall interrupt this easy sleep. Therefore, 
 rather pity with me those who, without intending it, 
 have made me happy. Brother, we must part. Re- 
 member me to my sister and to my wife; and carry 
 my blessing to my eldest son, and charge him from me
 
 62 Strafford's farewell. 
 
 to fear God, to continue an obedient son of the Church 
 of England, and a faithful subject to the king, and th it 
 he bear no grudge or revenge towards any concerning 
 me. Carry my blessing to Ann and Arabella (his 
 daugliters), not forgetting my little infant, that knows 
 neither good nor evil, and cannot speak for itself. 
 God speak for it, and bless it! I have now well-nigh 
 done : one stroke will make my wife husbandless, my 
 dear children fatherless, and my poor servants master- 
 less, and separate me from my dear brother, and all 
 my friends ; but may God be to you and them all in 
 all ! " 
 
 He proceeded to undress himself, winding up his 
 hair beneath a cap with his hands ; and while thus 
 employed, he said, " Never did I take off my clothes 
 with greater cheerfulness antl content, when I went to 
 bed, than in this ])reparation for my grave." He in- 
 quired for the executioner. " Where," he said, " is the 
 man that should do me this office? call him to me." 
 The headsman npjiroached, and asked his forgiveness. 
 Stratl'ord replied, that he forgave him and all the 
 world. 
 
 The affecting narrative of this great man's departure 
 from life thus closes. — "Kneeling down by the block, 
 he wont to prayer again by himself, the primate of 
 Ireland kneeling on the one side, and the minister on 
 the other; to the which minister after jirayer he 
 turned himself, and spoke some few words softly ; 
 having his hands lifted up, the minister closed his 
 bands with his. Then bowing himself to the earth 
 to lay down his head on the block, he told the exe-
 
 Strafford's farewell. 63 
 
 cutioner that he would first lay down his head to try 
 the fitness of the block, and take it up again, before 
 he laid it down for good and all ; and so he did : and 
 before he laid it down again, he told the executioner 
 that he would give him warning when to strike, by 
 stretching forth both his hands; and then, having laid 
 down his neck on the block, stretching out his hands, 
 the executioner struck off his head at one blow, tlien 
 took up the head in his hand, and shewed it to all the 
 people, and said, ' God save the king!'" 
 
 " Thus," wrote Laud, on recovering his usual 
 serenity, after that overwhelming farewell, suflniciently 
 to proceed with the task which solaced his imprison- 
 ment until his own turn came, — " thus ended the 
 wisest, the stoutest, and every way the ablest subject 
 that this nation had bred these many years." The ex- 
 cellent Evelyn also says, under date of that sanguinary 
 12th of May, 1641, " I beheld on Tower Hill the fatal 
 stroke which severed the wisest head in England from 
 the shoulders of the Earl of Strafford ; whose crime 
 comino- under the cognisance of no human law, a new 
 one was made, not to be a precedent, but his de- 
 struction : to such exorbitancy were things arrived." 
 These were the sentiments of pei'sons of humanity 
 and reflection. But the populace, though awed into 
 decency at the scaffold, celebrated their triumph — 
 for such they were taught to esteem it — with shouts 
 of exultation as they returned through the City.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 The ra[)idity with which the great movement ad- 
 vanced, after Strafford's fall, was in proportion to the 
 magnitude of the impediment removed. It was now 
 easy for the triumphant party to sweep away all real 
 abuses. As long as their measures spared the epi- 
 scopal order, they were submissively adopted by the 
 Lords, and assented to by the king without much 
 hesitation. This, however, was the very point toward 
 which the main force of the onset was directed. 
 
 Of the leaders, indeed, in both houses, several, 
 who adopted the language of religion from policy, 
 or the fashion of the time, would have been content 
 to press no farther upon the power of the hierarchy, 
 than they might have done with the concurrence of 
 some among the bench of bishops themselves. Wil- 
 liams had consented to preside in the committee of 
 religion ; a scheme of " moderate Episcopacy," de- 
 signed to assimilate tlie episcopalian and presbyterian 
 systems on a footing of mutual compromise, was 
 sanctioned by Usher. 
 
 But moderation was no longer in their choice. 
 The Church's overthrow was the condition of that
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 65 
 
 support, in whicli lay their chief strength : the patriots, 
 therefore, dared neglect no step tending to this object. 
 " Delinquent" clergymen were daily deprived. A 
 vote passed the Commons, that bishops should no 
 longer sit in parliament : it was presently followed 
 by a bill to deprive the whole body of the clergy of 
 all temporal functions; and this, again, by the well- 
 known presentation of a bill for the abolition of Epi- 
 scopacy, root and branch, brought in by the unhappy 
 Sir Edward Bering. And though the peers withheld 
 their concurrence, and had the courage to defend the 
 ecclesiastical constitution a few months longer, yet 
 it was evident they were gi'adually yielding to the 
 pressure. On minor points they at once gave way ; 
 and already the personal treatment of the lords spi- 
 ritual, in their own house of parliament, was dis- 
 respectful, if not contemptuous. 
 
 The king had engaged to be present in Scotland 
 at the approaching session of the parliament of that 
 kingdom. The fulfilment of this pledge was looked 
 forward to by the patriots with alarm. Pleading 
 the unsettled state of the public affairs, they requested 
 a regent to be named during his majesty's absence : 
 he consented only to appoint, for that period, the Earl 
 of Essex to be commander-in-chief south of the Trent. 
 On various pretexts, alleged by the houses, he from 
 time to time delayed his journey ; but at length set out 
 from London, in the beginning of August. The parlia- 
 ment, not unreasonably suspicious of his purposes, 
 despatched after him a committee, with Hampden at 
 their head, to watch his steps and thwart his negoti- 
 
 F
 
 66 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 ations. A foi'tniglit later, the two houses, having each 
 appointed a committee, empowered for all exigencies 
 during the recess, voted an adjournment from Sep- 
 temher 9th to October 20th. Pym, whose influence 
 and popularity were at this time unbounded, was 
 named chairman of the Commons' committee ; and 
 had, in fact, management of both. 
 
 The king's determination to conciliate Scotland, at 
 all hazards, was early displayed. In passing through 
 the head-quarters of the armies, at that time in the 
 act of disbanding, he made no stay at York, but 
 accepted an entertainment at Newcastle from Les- 
 ley, whom he created Earl of Leven. To the Cove- 
 nanters he made ruinous concessions, humouring 
 them at the same time in matters the least palatable 
 to his tastes : he stripped the crown of its most 
 valuable prerogatives ; gave up Episcopacy to de- 
 struction ; nominated the leading ministers of the 
 Kirk to be his chaplains, and regularly attended the 
 Presbyterian service. But all his concessions were 
 now regarded by that rapacious race as the plunder 
 of the vanquished ; while in England both his attempts 
 to win the Scots, and his etlbrts to search out the 
 treasonable intiigues of the preceding year (which 
 was quickly discovered to be a second, but scarcely 
 less anxious object), served alike to exasperate the 
 existing jealousy. 
 
 Before Charles's return, intelligence came from 
 Ireland of the frightful rebellion in that country. 
 Transferred from the able government of Strafford to 
 feebler hands but harsher treatuieut ; encouraged by
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 67 
 
 the successful issue of the Scotch insurrection, and still 
 more by those domestic feuds which occupied their 
 masters ; the native Irish conspired to throw off the 
 yoke, and to massacre all the EngHsli and Protestants 
 in the island. Unfortunately facilities were afforded 
 for the execution of this dreadful project by the parlia- 
 ment's refusal, contrary to the king's desire, to allow 
 the disbanded Irish soldiers to enter into foreign 
 service. The plan of the insurrection had been in 
 agitation as early as the month of March, and, by 
 degrees, the whole Roman Catholic population were 
 drawn into it ; but so well had the terrible secret been 
 kept, that it was not till the night previous to the day 
 fixed for its execution that the government received 
 the least intimation of the impending blow. Intelli- 
 gence of it reached the lords justices, Borlase and 
 Parsons, scarcely in time to secure the Castle of 
 Dublin ; in most other places the design was carried 
 into effect, amid scenes of cruelty and bloodshed 
 almost too horrible for belief. The rebels had the 
 audacity to assert that they had risen in defence of 
 the royal cause : they even exhibited a forged com- 
 mission from the king. That Charles connived at, 
 if he did not instigate, this work of blood, though 
 now — not, indeed, without manifest reluctance — 
 given up, even by those who are most hostile to his 
 fame, was too convenient, and, at the time, too plau- 
 sible a falsehood, not to meet with countenance from 
 the parliament. - 
 
 A common danger should have reconciled the 
 contending parties. But to the patriots all dangers
 
 68 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 appeared trivial, in comparison with the returning tide 
 of the nation's loyalty, with which they were now 
 seriously threatened. Fresh appeals were, therefore, 
 to be made to the fears and credulity of the populace. 
 Hence plots thickened, of which some were brought 
 to light : others, more numerous and terrible, were 
 suspended in darkness. Mysterious hints of the dan- 
 gerous tendency of the court intrigues in Scotland 
 were sent up by the vigilant northern committee : 
 the swoids of disbanded officers, who lurked in the 
 purlieus of Covent Garden and Whitehall, were 
 said to be thirsting for the blood of their brethren 
 at Westminster : Pym's life had actually been at- 
 tempted, by means of a plague-plaster, conveyed to 
 him, at the house of Commons, in a letter: — for all 
 these reasons, the members of parliament, on re-assem- 
 bling at the appointed day, found the trained bands 
 under arms in the Palace-yard, watching night and 
 day for the safety of that indefatigable band of 
 patriots. 
 
 The time had now arrived for the adoption of an 
 expedient, of which some rumours had already been 
 heard : this was the famous Remonstrance. According 
 to its original ])lan, the Remonstrance was designed 
 to display the actual evils under which the country 
 laboured: one by one, however, those evils had vanished 
 — it was for this very reason that the Remonstrance 
 was now revived, tbough in a different shape. It 
 contained, in strong but popular language, a sombre 
 view of the king's reitrn, from his accession to the 
 liour of its presentation ; representing the miserable
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 69 
 
 writliings of the people under the rod of despotism, 
 set off by a highly coloured picture of the parliament's 
 labours for their relief, through difficulties seemingly 
 insurmountable, followed by alarming announcements 
 of worse calamities to be dreaded from the machina- 
 tions of some unnamed but terrible " malignant par- 
 ties." To this statement, the form of a petition was 
 not given ; but it was accompanied by a request, that 
 the bishops might be deprived of their votes in parlia- 
 ment; that liis majesty would be pleased to remove 
 all objectionable persons from his counsels ; and that 
 in future he would employ such individuals only, in 
 public affairs and places of trust, " as," in the words 
 of the Remonstrance, introducing a phrase frequently 
 employed from that time by its authors, — "as the 
 parliament may have cause to confide in." 
 
 The production of this paper in the house of 
 Commons was the critical and decisive point in tlie 
 history of the Long Parliament. Its contrivers intended 
 by it to ascertain, and fix, their strength. It was, and 
 was designed to be, a severe touchstone of each man's 
 actual principles and views ; and, at the same time, 
 a barrier against their future abandonment. Doubt 
 and suspicion immediately pervaded the minds of the 
 moderate and undecided. Why recall the bitterness 
 of grievances that had ceased to exist? Why this 
 studied harshness of speech? What was the destina- 
 tion of this fierce manifesto? Silence and mystery 
 were, for a time, the only answers. 
 
 It was the 21st of November. The house had 
 been occupied with other subjects of discussion till
 
 70 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 the hour of twelve — a late hour of the day, in those 
 times, to bring on new and important matter. Would 
 there be a debate? — " A trifling one," replied the am- 
 biguous member for Cambridge, Cromwell, to whom 
 the question was addressed. Those who were best 
 acquainted with tbe relative state of parties in the 
 house foresaw at least a part of the result : the debate 
 was deferred to the following morning. 
 
 At nine o'clock on the 22d it was opened, and 
 continued through the day with unwonted violence. 
 Many members — those especially whose indisposition, 
 from age or infirmity, to sit out so protracted a discus- 
 sion was not overcome by the interested zeal of party, — 
 dropped out one by one. " This," cried Rudyard, 
 observing Secretary Nicholas take his departure, " will 
 be the verdict of a starved jury." Midnight ca,me ; — 
 the Remonstrance was put to the vote, and carried by a 
 majority of nine. And novr appeared the real object 
 of the Remonstrants ; for thereupon rose Hampden, 
 and moved that it should be printed. A debate, 
 fiercer than the last, ensued. It appearing that no 
 intention existed to bring the question before the 
 Peers for their concurrence, Hyde warmly asserted 
 that the house was incompetent to proceed alone in 
 such a measure. ''Should, however," he said, "this 
 dangerous proposal be adopted, I for one must be 
 allowed to protest against it." On this, Palmer, 
 one of the moderate men, stood up, crying out, " I, 
 too, protest!" Other members did the same. Pyni 
 now reminded the house that the privilege, allowed 
 to a minority, of protesting, was unknown to the
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 71 
 
 Commons, and directed the displeasure of the house 
 against the attempted innovation. Instantly the 
 whole assembly rose in a tumult. The scene which 
 ensued is set before us by the lively pen of a mem- 
 ber present. " At three o'clock in the morning," 
 writes Sir Philip Warwick, " when they voted it [the 
 resolution to print], I thought we all, like Joab's and 
 Abner's young men, had catched at each other's locks, 
 and sheathed our swords in each other's bowels, had 
 not the sagacity and great calmness of Mr. Hampden, 
 by a short speech prevented it, and led us to defer our 
 angry debate." An effectual separation was now 
 made between the moderate and the " root and 
 branch " men ; but only to prove the comparative 
 weakness of the former. From this period, the Par- 
 liament constituted the Government ; the Commons, 
 the Parliament ; the Country, or patriotic party, 
 the Commons — the last being themselves but the 
 agents of the Presbyterian and Puritan sections of the 
 people. 
 
 The king's return took place two days afterwards, 
 amidst a burst of returning loyalty, bright, brief, 
 and delusive. On the way, he was received — at 
 York, in particular — with the warmest testimonies of 
 dutiful affection. The Loyalists had succeeded in 
 placing in the civic chair of London Sir Richard 
 Gurney, a man of character and courage. Under his 
 auspices, the king and queen, with the whole court, 
 were magnificently feasted in Guildhall ; and, while 
 the conduits in Cheapside and Cornhill ran with wine, 
 the whole city accompanied the royal party back to
 
 72 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 Whitehall, surrounded with the blaze of innumerable 
 torches, and attended by the prayers and acclamations 
 of the fickle multitude. 
 
 The next day Charles received back Essex's com- 
 mission ; dismissed the guard from about the par- 
 liament houses ; published a proclamation command- 
 ing obedience to the laws for the defence of religion ; 
 and proceeded to attach to his person the more dis- 
 tinguished of the seceders, by creating Falkland 
 secretary of state, and Colepepper chancellor of the 
 exchequer ; while in Hyde, afterwards Earl of Claren- 
 don, though that statesman declined a specific office, 
 he secured a firm friend and an invaluable servant. 
 
 On the first of December a committee attended 
 the king at Hampton Court, to present the Remon- 
 strance. Charles received them graciously. " Does 
 the house purpose to publish this declaration?" he 
 inquired. " We are not authorised to answer your 
 majesty's questions," was the reply. " Well," re- 
 joined the king, " I suppose you do not expect an 
 instant answer to so long a document? You shall 
 have one with as much speed as the weightiness of the 
 business will permit." He made it his request to the 
 house, that the Remonstrance might not be allowed to 
 appeal" till his answer was ready: — it was forthwith 
 printed, without any notice in the house of this 
 request. 
 
 This paper was an appeal, not to the king, but 
 to the people ; and it did its expected work. Innume- 
 rable pamphlets, in the same strain, " pursued the 
 triumph." Tuumltuous demonstrations of popular
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 73 
 
 strength, on pretence of meeting to petition, daily fol- 
 lowed. Then came the outrages at Westminster. The 
 City of London was at that time the residence of the 
 greater part of the nobility and foreign ambassadors; 
 and, besides the retainers of the great, swarmed with a 
 bold, reckless, and dissatisfied population. Every man 
 had arms, and had learned to use them. Crowds 
 of these citizens, under the general name of " ap- 
 prentices," mixed with the yet meaner rabble of the 
 suburbs, flocked to Westminster, shouting " No 
 bishops! no bishops!" The Commons (for the 
 Lords refused to join with them) petitioned the king, 
 at this moment, " in regard of the fears they had of 
 some design from the Papists, that they might continue 
 such a guard about them as they thought fit." He 
 ordered the trained bands of Westminster and Middle- 
 sex on this duty. So little satisfaction, however, did 
 the order give, that when the Earl of Dorset, lord- 
 lieutenant of Middlesex, directed them to remove the 
 rioters from about the doors of the house of Peers, 
 against whom their violence was chiefly directed, " the 
 Commons," says Clarendon, " inveighed against the 
 earl, and talked of accusing him of high treason." 
 The tumults hourly increasing, and many members 
 of the Lords complaining, in their places, of the 
 insults they met with, that house sought a conference 
 with the other to consider the proper remedy. The 
 request was evaded : — they must not discourage their 
 friends ; and Pym exclaimed, in the presence of both 
 houses, " God forbid, the house of Commons should
 
 74 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 proceed in any way to dishearten the people to obtain 
 their just desires !" 
 
 With how much promptitude and decision any 
 indiscreet step which the parties assailed might, in 
 this miserable state of things, be induced to take, 
 was turned to account by the watchful energy of 
 the house of Commons, is seen in the memorable 
 incident of the bishops' petition. Those reverend 
 persons having been several days forcibly excluded 
 from the house of Peers by the mob, Williams, 
 archbishop of York, an able man, but whose rest- 
 less temper did little service to the church, pre- 
 vailed with eleven of his brethren to join him in 
 subscribing a protest against the validity of every act 
 of the house during their absence. It was addressed 
 to the king, and by him forwarded to the Lords, who 
 heard it with surprise and resentment, and imme- 
 diately communicated it to the other house. No 
 occurrence could have fallen out more favourably for 
 the enemies of the church, than this weak attempt. 
 It was instantly debated in the Commons, with 
 the usual signs of secrecy and importance ; and a 
 resolution passed to impeach the twelve prelates of 
 high treason. The result was, that they appeared, 
 on their knees, as culprits at the bar of the house of 
 Lords ; and that ten of these venerable and learned 
 fathers were instantly despatched by water to the 
 Tower, through the inclement air of a winter's 
 evening ; the remaining two, in tenderness to their 
 great age and infirmities, being committed to the
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. /O 
 
 care of Maxwell. Nor were some of those schemes 
 by which the king himself attempted to counter- 
 work the assaults now openly made on his authority, 
 either more prudently contrived, or happier in their 
 consequences. 
 
 On the breaking out of the Irish rebellion, his 
 majesty, as the likeliest means of silencing the calumny 
 that he had himself given countenance to that atro- 
 cious plot, remitted to the parliament the measures for 
 its suppression. The power thus rashly conceded 
 was eagerly grasped ; but the purposes of its transfer 
 were but tardily and sparingly fulfilled. Repeatedly 
 urged by the king to provide money and troops for 
 suppressing the rebellion, and for the defence of his 
 loyal subjects, they answered by passing a resolution 
 never to consent to the toleration of Popei'y in 
 Ireland, or any other part of the king's dominions. 
 A bill, however, was introduced, for the impressment 
 of soldiers. In the preamble it was declared that 
 the king had no right, in any case, except a foreign 
 invasion, to order an impressment of his subjects. 
 Charles required that the bill should not be incum- 
 bered with any question respecting the abstract rights 
 of sovereign or subject. This unconstitutional inter- 
 ference with a parliamentary measure, not yet regu- 
 larly brought before him, gave high offence to the 
 Commons, was voted a breach of privilege, and 
 drew forth a fresh " petition and remonstrance," in 
 which they required the king to name the persons 
 by whose evil counsel he had been led into that error. 
 Charles replied soothingly; but referred, with some
 
 76 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 not unkingly marks of scorn, to this insulting 
 deuiand. 
 
 Tlie audacity of the populace, encouraged hy the 
 connivance of their friends in parliament, rose at length 
 to an intolerable pitch. They no longer respected 
 the person of the king : Whitehall resounded with 
 cries of " No bishops ! no Papist lords!" " We will 
 have," they exclaimed, "no porter's lodge here; but 
 ■will come and speak to the king, without obstruction, 
 when we please!" At length, the indignation of some 
 loyal gentlemen, officers of the army and students 
 from the inns of court, was so much roused, that 
 they came and voluntarily offered themselves to pio- 
 tect his majesty from these insufferable insults. Some 
 personal conflicts ensued between the parties. On 
 one of these occasions, an officer, from contempt 
 for the rabble, whose close-cropped hair made them 
 appear ridiculously unfashionable to the higher classes 
 of the time, threatened them by the name of" Round- 
 heads." The term instantly obtained vogue ; and with 
 its antithesis, " Cavaliers," which came into fashion 
 shortly afterwards, has brought down to our own 
 age, in picturesque contrast, the ideas of the two great 
 rival parties, who, in so many subsequent encounters, 
 shed each other's blood for loyalty and for freedom. 
 
 Among the most zealous of those royalists who 
 joined to check the fury of the rabble, was Colonel 
 Lunsford ; a gentleman regarded rather for courage 
 than discretion or gravity. Into the hands of this wild 
 soldier, after procuring the resignation of Balfour, at 
 the cost of three thousand pounds, the king was per-
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 77 
 
 suaded to put the office of lieutenant of the Tower. 
 Parliament remonstrated against this appointment, and 
 Charles transferred it to Sir John Byron. The Com- 
 mons had repeatedly applied for a guard, to be under 
 the command of the Earl of Essex, or some other 
 officer chosen by themselves. They now renewed the 
 application with greater urgency ; but before the 
 king's answer could be reported, as if to provide 
 against some imminent personal danger, arms were 
 introduced into the house itself, and, at the same time, 
 an order was sent to the sheriffs of London and Mid- 
 dlesex to station the trained bands round the houses, 
 under the command of Skippon, an illiterate but honest 
 soldier, captain of the Artillery Company, whom they 
 commissioned for that purpose, with the new title of 
 Major-General of the Militia of London, 
 
 It was while engaged in debating the question of 
 the guard, that the house of Commons was startled 
 with information of the king's celebrated attempt 
 against the five members. Who, in this most unhappy 
 instance, were his advisers, has not been satisfactorily 
 determined. But sufficient motives to almost any 
 expedient, short of an act of madness (and the boldest 
 expedient might, not absurdly, seem to him the most 
 promising), were supplied in the oppressive and in- 
 sultino- measures of his adversaries. An order stood 
 on the order-book of the house of Commons for a 
 committee on that day, " to take into consideration 
 the militia of the kingdom ; " in other words, to pro- 
 ceed to secure the power of the sword; and, as the 
 extreme of all subjects of irritation, hints had reached
 
 78 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 
 
 the king, that during his absence in Scotland a design 
 had been actually on foot to impeach his royal consort. 
 A message from the Lords acquainted them that 
 Herbert, the attorney-general, had appeared at the 
 bar of that house, and accused of high treason the 
 Lord Kimbolton, and five members of the house of 
 Commons — Hollis, Halerigg, Pym, Hampden, and 
 Strode. A serjeant-at-arms now presenting himself 
 demanded, in the name of the king, to have the five 
 members given up to his custody : at the same instant, 
 the house learned that ofiicers were engao-ed in 
 sealing up the studies and trunks of the accused. 
 It was a moment for the display of that decision, 
 in the exercise of which the great leaders of the Com- 
 mons delighted. They instantly sent the Speaker's 
 warrant, to break the seals, and apprehend the persons 
 by whom they were affixed ; ordered, at the same 
 time, that any members upon whom similar seizures 
 were attempted, should stand upon their defence; 
 despatched a deputation to the king with the reply, 
 that their answer to a charge so serious required 
 grave consideration ; and, desiring the accused mem- 
 bers to attend in their places the next morning, 
 adjourned the house. 
 
 In that strangely varied sphere, the court of the 
 most moral of princes, the fairest slar was the beau- 
 tiful Dowager-Countess of Carlisle. To this lady's 
 smiles, brilliant talents and a great part in the 
 drama of life were indispensable, but effectual, pass- 
 ports. Wliat wonder if her favour dwelt, for a season, 
 on Strafford? But Strafford perished: and it is hard
 
 _ THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 79 
 
 to say, whether disgust points rather to the patriot 
 or the courtesan, whether delicacy or moral principle 
 suffer the more grievous wound, when we learn that, 
 immediately afterwards, the contrasted person, but 
 hardly less intellectual brow of his remorseless pro- 
 secutor, stained as it was with the reeking blood of 
 the great minister, possessed charms for the Countess 
 of Carlisle. 
 
 No marvel, if so many of Charles's schemes proved 
 abortive, when the most important of his affairs were 
 in the power of such a woman ! The afternoon of the 
 following day had arrived, and each of the five accused 
 members had spoken in his place against the accu- 
 sation, when Pym received a private intimation from 
 the countess that his majesty in person was coming to 
 the house to apprehend them. A gentleman who had 
 hastened from Whitehall entering, and confirming this 
 intelligence, wuth the addition that he had actually 
 beheld his majesty on the Avay, Pym and his friends 
 withdrew ; the house, meantime, waiting the result in 
 silence. 
 
 All that followed is well known : — the king's 
 entrance with his nephew, the prince palatine ; the 
 stillness which prevailed ; his majesty's looking round 
 for Pym and his fi'iends ; his seating himself in the 
 Speaker's chair ; his speech to the house, in which 
 he assured them that no king of England had ever 
 held their privileges in greater respect than him- 
 self, but that he was advised treason had no privilege ; 
 his confirming all that he had recently done for the 
 advantage of his subjects ; finally, his retiring, un-
 
 80 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. ^ 
 
 covered, as he had entered, with an air of courteous 
 deference, but followed by those prolonged and omin- 
 ous murmurs of "Privilege! privilege!" by which 
 alone the members broke, at length, the profound 
 silence they had hitherto observed. 
 
 The next day the house passed some resolutions, 
 denouncing, in haughty terms, this " high breach 
 of the rights and privileges of parliament," and im- 
 mediately adjourned for a week ; but resolved to sit 
 in the meantime, as a committee of the house, at 
 Guildhall. 
 
 A proclamation was issued commanding the ports 
 to be shut, and forbidding any persons to harbour the 
 accused members ; yet the very house in which they 
 W'ere living — they can scarcely be said to have been 
 concealed — was well known. Lord Digby, the author, 
 it was asserted, of all this mischief, Lunsford, and some 
 other Cavaliers, offered to go and secure them by force. 
 To this proposal the king had the firmness to refuse his 
 consent, but the day following proceeded himself to 
 the City. Arrived at the Tower, he sent to the lord- 
 mayor, to meet him at Guildhall, with the aldermen 
 and common council. " Gentlemen," he said, when 
 they were assembled, " I am come to demand such 
 prisoners as 1 have already attainted of high treason ; 
 and believe they are shrouded in the City. I ho[)e no 
 good man will keep them from me. Their offences 
 are treason and misdemeanours of a high nature. I 
 desire your loving assistance herein, that they may be 
 brought to a legal trial." The attempt had no other 
 result but to exasperate farther " the madness of the
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY CRISIS. 81 
 
 people," and to expose Charles's powerless condition 
 to contempt. 
 
 Six days passed ; days of intoxicating excitement 
 without, of painful regret for this futile demonstration 
 within, the palace at Whitehall. On the 11th, Hamp- 
 den, Pyra, Hollis, Haslerigg, Strode, (now too much 
 the idols of the people, as well as the objects of the 
 king's enmity, to preserve that manly moderation, 
 without which, though they might win many vic- 
 tories, tliey could hardly achieve enduring success,) 
 returned in triumph, escorted by the sheriffs and by 
 vast crowds of shouting people, to the house of Com- 
 mons, where congratulations, thanks, and plaudits, 
 resounded on all sides. Their clamorous rejoicings 
 reached not the king; he had retired, the previous 
 evening, with his queen, their children and attendants, 
 and " some thirty or forty" of the Cavaliers, to his 
 house at Hampton Court.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 The Commons strengthened their hands, once more, 
 for the great work before them, by encouraging pe- 
 titions expressive of confidence in the wisdom and 
 firmness of parliament, and praying for the removal of 
 papists, prelatists, and other malignant advisers of the 
 king. 
 
 Hampden's county, Bucks, led the way ; four thou- 
 sand freeholders of that county, each wearing a copy of 
 the recent protestation of the Commons against the 
 breach of their privileges, brought up three several 
 petitions to the Commons, the Lords, and the Sove- 
 reign. Middlesex, Essex, Surrey, Hertford, followed. 
 Petitions came in from separate classes of citizens ; the 
 porters of London, the " many thousands of poor 
 peo})le in London," separately petitioned. At length, 
 " the gentlewomen and tradesmen's wives" delivered 
 their petition ; a document couched in language of such 
 fulsome extravagance, as must have sorely tried the 
 risible faculties of " the noble worthies now sitting in 
 parliament." It was gravely heard, however, and 
 " the honourable assembly sent them un answer by
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 83 
 
 Mr. Pyni, which was performed in this manner : — 
 Mr. Pym came to the Commons' door, called for the 
 women, and spoke to them in these words : ' Good 
 women, your petition, and the reasons, have been read 
 in the house, and are thankfully accepted of, and are 
 come in a seasonable time. You shall (God willing) 
 receive from us all the satisfaction which we can pos- 
 sibly give to your reasonable desires.' " All these 
 petitions were printed and circulated, with innu- 
 merable other papers, appealing to the terrors and 
 enthusiasm of the people. The effect of all this agi- 
 tation was prodigious. New plots succeeded. Ru- 
 mours of a design to surprise the City, by land and 
 water, were brought to the houses ; on which Major- 
 General Skippon received orders to send out horsemen 
 as scouts, in all directions, for intelligence, and to pro- 
 vide boats or light vessels for the like service ujjon 
 the river. Orders were likewise issued to search the 
 houses of suspected persons for arms, in almost every 
 part of England ; but the services of any who would 
 voluntarily undertake these lawless invasions of their 
 neighbours' dwellings were thankfully accepted : nor, 
 as may be readily supposed, were arms, in every in- 
 stance, the only kind of property seized. 
 
 Of all those dangerous and treasonable designs, 
 none was ever traced to any ascertainable origin, unless 
 we except that attributed to Lord Digby, too often, 
 indeed, the "wild and whirling" adviser of the king. 
 Digby's own account of the affair bears the stamp of 
 truth. " When," he wrote from abroad, "the rude- 
 ness and violence of that rabble drove both their ma-
 
 84 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 jesties, for the safety of themselves and their children, 
 to Hampton Court, thither by command I attended 
 them. In this short journey many soldiers and com- 
 manders (who had come to solicit the payment of their 
 arrears, for the late northern expedition, from the two 
 houses of parliament) waited on their majesties; and, 
 leaving them at Hampton Court, provided their own 
 accommodations at Kingston, the nearest place capable 
 of receiving them, and constantly so used for the over- 
 flow of company, which the court itself could not ac- 
 commodate. To these gentlemen, of whom few or 
 none were of my acquaintance, was I sent by his ma- 
 jesty, with some expressions of his good acceptance of 
 their service; and returning the same night to Hamp- 
 ton Court, continued my attendance to Windsor, whi- 
 ther their majesties then repaired. I had not been 
 there one day, when I heard that both houses of par- 
 liament were informed that I, and Colonel Lunsford, a 
 person with whom I never exchanged twenty words in 
 my life, had appeared in a warlilve manner at King- 
 ston, to the terror of the king's liege people; and 
 thereupon had ordered that tiie Sheriff' of Surrey, and, 
 as I conceive, that all other sheriffs throughout Eng- 
 land, should raise the power of their several counties 
 to suppress the forces that he and I had levied." 
 
 On such grounds did the watchful or inventive 
 wisdom of Pym and his fellow-patriots found those 
 energetic measures which signalised the reassembling 
 of parliament. They impeached Digby of high trea- 
 son, and committed Lunsford to the Tower ; they 
 placed Skippon with a sufficient guard about that fur-
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 85 
 
 tress ; and sent Goring down to his government at 
 Portsmouth, with orders that no forces should pass out 
 or in, but with the king's authority signified by both 
 houses of parliament. The Earl of Newcastle, whom 
 the king had privately directed to take the govern- 
 ment of Hull, was recalled by the House of Peers to 
 his place in parliament : and &ir John Hotham, with 
 orders similar to Goring's, was commissioned to super- 
 sede him. Sir John Byron being found unmanageable, 
 he was brought upon his knees as a delinquent, at 
 the bar ; his dismissal extorted from the kine: : and 
 Conyers, "a man in whom they could confide," made 
 lieutenant of the Tower. 
 
 Finding himself too little removed at Hampton 
 Court from the vexations which had pursued him at 
 Whitehall, Charles, as has been intimated, removed to 
 Windsor. Both parties now found leisure to contem- 
 plate the probable consequences of their mutual hosti- 
 lity, and both were preparing, covertly and in silence, 
 for an appeal to force. Meantime secret stratagems 
 were, on neither side, omitted. Every movement of 
 the parliamentary leaders was reported to the king; on 
 the other hand, every project of Charles became in- 
 stantly known at Westminster. The court resolved 
 that the queen should go over into Holland, under the 
 pretence of conducting the Princess Henrietta Maria to 
 her husband the Prince of Orange : the parliament was 
 not deceived respecting the real object of this journey ; 
 which was, to solicit aid from foreign powers, and to 
 purchase arms and ammunition, with money to be
 
 86 THE RAISI>'G OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 raised on the valuable jewels she took out, should war 
 become inevitable. Messages and answers, remon- 
 strances and replies, were continually interchanged. 
 But the whole interest of the dispute quickly became 
 absorbed in the great question which regarded the 
 command of the military forces of the empire. The 
 Commons required, as a " ground of confidence " for a 
 mutual accommodation, that the government of the 
 forts, and the command of the army and navy, should 
 be intrusted to officers nominated by the two houses of 
 parliament. Amid the noise and heat of these discus- 
 sions, the bill for taking away the bishops' votes, which 
 had been long depending in the house of Lords, passed 
 that assembly, and ultimately received the assent of the 
 sovereign, extorted, it is said, by the passionate fears 
 of his queen. The Commons' demand to have the 
 power of the militia, in effect involved the whole 
 question in dispute. Their pertinacity on this jioint was 
 proportioned to its importance — its monstrous ille- 
 gality appeared to them no impediment. " The notion," 
 observes Mr. Ilaliam, '* that either or both houses 
 of parliament, who possess no portion of executive 
 autliority, could take on themselves one of its most 
 peculiar and important functions, was so preposterous, 
 that we can scai'cely give credit to the sincerity of 
 any reasonable person who advanced it." Never- 
 theless, this right was assumed in the famous Ordi- 
 nance, which now passed both houses, and was pre- 
 sented to the king for his sanction. Again and again, 
 it was pressed upon him. lie refused* but promised
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 87 
 
 to accept it, with certain modificatious, providing 
 against the permanent abandonment of his consti- 
 tutional right. 
 
 Having seen his consort embark at Dover, and pro- 
 vided for the safety of the Prince, by placing him under 
 the care of the Marquess of Hertford, Charles by de- 
 grees withdrew himself northward. At Theobald's, a 
 message overtook him with a vote of the houses upon 
 his proposal of a modification, declaring it a positive 
 denial, and threatening that, unless he speedily gave 
 his unqualified consent, they would proceed without 
 it to dispose of the militia by the authority of the 
 houses. He repeated his former answer, adding that 
 he relied upon the goodness and providence of God 
 for the preservation of himself and his just rights. 
 At Newmarket, a committee, once more deputed by 
 the parliament, attended him. They were bearers 
 of a " declaration," containing a fresh statement of 
 their sufferings and fears, justifying all their pro- 
 ceedings, and urging reasons for his return to his 
 parliament. It was a kind of supplement to the 
 famous " Remonstrance," drawn up with great ability, 
 and expressed in strong and insulting terms. " What 
 would you have?" said the king. " Have I violated 
 your laws ? Have I refused to pass any one bill for 
 the relief of my subjects ? I do not ask you what 
 you have done for me. Are my people transported 
 with fears and apprehensions? I have offered as free 
 and general a pardon as yourselves can devise. There 
 is a judgment fi'om heaven upon this nation, if these
 
 88 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 distractions continue. God so deal with me and mine, 
 as all my thoughts and intentions are upright, for the 
 maintenance of true Protestant profession, and for the 
 observation and preservation of the laws of the land ; 
 and I hope God will bless and support those laws 
 for my preservation." Lord Holland, a member of 
 the committee, entreated him to continue to reside near 
 his parliament. " I would," replied the king, " you 
 had given me cause ; but I am sure this declaration 
 is not the way to it." Being then asked by the 
 Earl of Pembroke whether the militia might not be 
 granted, in the manner desired by the parliament, at 
 least for a time, " No," he answered, with vehemence, 
 
 *' by G not for an hour ! You have asked that 
 
 of me, in this, was never asked of any king, and with 
 which I will not trust my wife and children." 
 
 All prospect of reconciliation was now closed. 
 The parliament passed the ordinance for the militia, 
 commanding it to be obeyed as the fundamental laws 
 of the kingdom ; and pronouncing the king's appoint- 
 ments of lieutenants over the respective counties to 
 be illegal and void. This momentous vote completed 
 the separation of the royalist and parliamentarian 
 parties, in the legislature. Hyde, Palmer, Bridgman, 
 and other eminent persons, having spoken against the 
 ordinance, refused to sit any longer, and withdrew 
 to the king. Many retired to their country-seats ; 
 but the strength lost in numbers was supplied by 
 unanimity, and by that stern resolvedness, which the 
 glorious prize in view, and the belief of most minds
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 89 
 
 tliat the die was already irrevocably cast, were calcu- 
 lated to produce. The king, meantime, arrived at 
 York. 
 
 No one, be his political views what they may, who 
 has considered the occurrences of the last few months, 
 can fail, if be has the true English desire to see " fair 
 play " between contending parties, to feel some satis- 
 faction on finding: the king fix his residence in the 
 north. In London, and its vicinity, where his adver- 
 saries had exclusive command of parliament, pulpit, and 
 press, — where their trained rabble besieged his doors, 
 and where spies in their pay waited in his bed-chamber, 
 freedom to stand upon his defence was denied him; and 
 he was daily driven to perform the disingenuous part 
 of submitting to concessions, which they who violently 
 extorted them knew he would regard as void should 
 prosperous times return, and made that conviction the 
 excuse for fresh and still more formidable exactions. 
 At York he breathed a freer air, and was able to 
 resume a more kingly, and therefore a more ingenuous 
 tone. His court, in the deanery, was attended by 
 nearly all the distinguished families of the northern 
 counties, and was daily augmented by fresh arrivals 
 from London of royalists who had not the hardihood 
 to appear such at Whitehall or Windsor. Within 
 two months of his arrival, out of seventy-four 
 members, of whom the House consisted, thirty had 
 joined him, and were shortly afterwards followed 
 by ten others. Of the Commons, it was ascertained 
 about the same time, that sixty-five had withdrawn 
 from the house. An object of some importance was
 
 90 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 gained, when Hyde, on the eve of his own departure 
 for York, persuaded Lord-keeper Littleton to forward 
 the great seal to his master, himself immediately 
 following. The retinue of a court, and the defence 
 requisite for its security, in the dangerous times now 
 commencing, were, in some manner, completed by 
 embodying, from among the neighbouring gentry, a 
 personal guard for the king. 
 
 While the thoughts of both parties were evidently 
 pointing to war, an incessant correspondence w^as 
 nevertheless kept up between them, under the mask 
 of peaceful intentions. A double motive operated, on 
 either side, throughout this protracted paper combat: 
 first, to gain time to prepare for physical encounter ; 
 secondly, to justify the respective proceedings of the 
 combatants to the people. On neither side did the 
 authors of those declarations and replies, votes and pro- 
 testations, remonstrances and replications, which con- 
 tinued in rapid interchange between York and London, 
 so much address tliemselves to each other, as to a 
 great, earnest, and intelligent nation, listening alter- 
 nately with growing enthusiasm and expanding nerve 
 to their mutual appeals to history, to law% to the inde- 
 feasible rights of sovereign and subject. Hence, the stir- 
 ring interest with which we still peruse this collection, 
 and this alone, of the dullest of all the productions of 
 able pens — state manifestoes. On the parliament's 
 side, those great documents were — could they be other- 
 wise? — uniformly bold, haughty, full of purpose and of 
 passion : those on the king's side are described, by a 
 modern historian of liberal principles, to be " temperate
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 91 
 
 and constitutional, and as superior to those on the op- 
 posite side in argument as they were in eloquence." 
 Something not unlike the same conviction in the 
 minds of the parliamentary leaders was surely indi- 
 cated hy the fact, that while the king invariably 
 accompanied his publications by the correlative state- 
 ments of the two houses, they, on the contrary, did 
 all in their power to suppress the king's. The most 
 remarkable of all the series is the famous " nine- 
 teen propositions," presented to Charles, June 2d. 
 When we are told, by the same learned writer, re- 
 specting this final demand, that " it went to abrogate 
 the whole existing constitution, and was in truth so 
 far beyond what the king could be expected to grant, 
 that terms more intolerable were scarcely proposed 
 to him in his greatest subsequent difficulties," we 
 cannot be surprised at the result. In truth, who can 
 doubt, that, unfortunately for the interests of freedom, 
 the parliament had now placed themselves in a false 
 position ; had given just cause for the indignation with 
 which the king rejected this proposal to be " allowed 
 to wear a crown and carry a sceptre, to have his hand 
 still kissed and be addressed with the style of majesty ; 
 but at the same time to be without real power, the 
 slave of a party, the phantom of a sovereign?" Pity! 
 that Charles Stuart should ever have been placed in 
 a position which enabled him to awaken a generous 
 echo in thousands of bosoms panting to be free, by 
 quoting, on this occasion, that manly sentiment of the 
 barons of Runnymede — not designed for the mouth of 
 kings — " Noluinus leges Angliae mutari!"
 
 92 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 Less fortunate was the king, in points more essen- 
 tial than evidence of right, to immediate success. 
 
 The parliament had obtained absolute possession of 
 the fleet, by boldly appointing to the command of it, 
 without the king's consent, the Earl of Warwick, one of 
 their partisans. Respecting Charles's attempt to dis- 
 possess them of one of his fortresses, it will be neces- 
 sary to give some account; that event being commonly 
 regarded as, more than any other occurrence, deci- 
 sive of the war. Hull had, in consequence of the 
 recent disbanding of the army near its gates, become 
 the I'ichest magazine of military stores in England. 
 Its possession was therefore eagerly contested. Re- 
 garding with suspicion the king's choice of York 
 for his residence, the parliament had passed an order 
 for the removal of the arms and ammunition from 
 that fortress to the ToAver of London. They had 
 little confidence in Sir John Hotham, the governor, 
 who was a man of no great courage or ability, and, 
 in fact, at heart a royalist. The town itself also was 
 friendly to Charles : in fact, he believed that nothing 
 more than his presence was needed to obtain its 
 instant surrender. Accordingly, early on the 23d of 
 April, his majesty, accompanied by two or three 
 hundred gentlemen, rode over from York ; and when 
 within a mile of the walls, sent to acquaint Ilotham 
 that he intended that day to dine with him. Hotham, in 
 great confusion and uncertainty at this intimation, called 
 a council of his officers, who advised him to refuse ad- 
 mittance to the king. Charles, arriving at the gates 
 an hour after his messenger, found them closed, the
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 93 
 
 drawbridge raised, the walls manned. The governor 
 now making his appearance on the ramparts, he 
 commanded him to open the gates. Hothani fell on 
 his knees, and answered that, holding his trust on 
 oath from the parliament, he dared not. " Let me 
 see your order to keep me out," replied the king. 
 " Were your majesty admitted with such a train," 
 continued Hotham, " I could not answer for the safety 
 of the town." " I will enter, then," said the king, 
 " with only twenty horse, while the rest stay here 
 without." The governor refused. " Come out to me, 
 then," demanded Charles, " that we may have confer- 
 ence together : I pledge my royal word for your safety 
 and free return." He still refused, protesting, at the 
 same time, his loyalty. The enraged Cavaliers attending 
 on the king now cried out to the officers of the gar- 
 rison, who thronged the wall, to throw him down : 
 they addressed those by whose resolves the poor man's 
 own inclination was overborne. " This," added the 
 king, " is an unparalleled act, and cannot but produce 
 notable effects : had you, Hotham, performed a sub- 
 ject's duty, the miseries and bloodshed that may fall 
 upon this kingdom might yet have been averted." 
 Charles had, the previous day, sent the Duke of York 
 and his nephew, the Prince Elector, on a visit of 
 pleasure to the town. He withdrew till joined by 
 them without; and then, once more advancing to the 
 ramparts, proclaimed Hotham a traitor by sound of 
 trumpet. That night the king slept at the neigh- 
 bouring town of Beverley ; from whence he instantly 
 despatched a message to the parliament, demanding
 
 94 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 justice : the parliament answered, at their leisure, by 
 a vote, " That Sir John Hotham had done nothing but 
 in obedience to the commands of both houses, and 
 that the proclaiming him a traitor was a high breach of 
 their privileges!" 
 
 The melancholy sequel of this tragedy can find no 
 fitter place than the present. It is one among num- 
 berless domestic instances of the miseries attendant 
 on those wars, to the more specific occurrences of 
 which we are now approaching. 
 
 Sir John Hotham was of an ancient family and 
 good estate in the neighbourhood of Hull ; a circum- 
 stance which led to his appointment to be governor 
 of that town. He was, in heart, a royalist. It was 
 his personal hatred to Strafford alone which engaged 
 him on the side of the parliament ; and so little 
 confidence did that party place in his fidelity, that 
 he perceived, with bitterness, his eldest son. Captain 
 Hotham (a youth who, with all the headlong ardour of 
 his years, had embraced the popular cause), was asso- 
 ciated with him in his trust, that he might act as a 
 spy on his parent. Sir John Hotham's conduct, sub- 
 sequent to the repulse of the king, gave, in several in- 
 stances, so little satisfaction to his masters, that nothing 
 but the great confidence they placed in the son's 
 zealous discharge of the office he had undertaken pre- 
 vailed with them to continue the father in his govern- 
 ment. The war began ; and events occurred to check 
 the forward zeal of young Hotham. He grew jealous 
 of Fairfax, under whose orders he was placed, and en- 
 gaged in a correspondence with the Earl of Newcastle,
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 95 
 
 commander in Yorkshire for the king. Both were 
 now to be got rid of. An accusation was easily 
 procured against the father. Father and son were, 
 therefore, suddenly seized and sent up to the par- 
 liament, by whom both were instantly charged with 
 high treason, and committed to the Tower. In that 
 fortress they passed upwards of a year, their fate being 
 held in suspense by the interest of friends. This sup- 
 port then failing them, they were brought before a 
 court-martial, and both condemned to the loss of 
 their heads. The artifices, says Clarendon, that were 
 used against these unhappy gentlemen, both before 
 and after their trial, were so barbarous and inhuman, 
 as had hardly before been practised in any Christian 
 land. Yet the instrument of them was a pretended 
 minister of religion. The famous Hugh Peters was 
 the chaplain sent to prepare them for death. This 
 man, by insinuating to both that the life of only one 
 of them would be exacted, drew over each by the 
 miserable hope of saving his own life to become the 
 accuser of the other. The father aggravated the 
 offences of the son ; the son inveighed against the 
 delinquencies of the father ; and thus Peters, on 
 whose mediation each relied for a reprieve, drew fi"om 
 them sufficient to procure the sure destruction of 
 both. The son was first executed : the next day 
 Peters appeared on the scaffold with the father, and 
 assured the gaping multitude who came to glut them- 
 selves with the sight of blood, that they died justly, 
 for *' they had made their confession to him, and 
 acknowledged their offences against the parliament!"
 
 96 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 Preparations for war now proceeded rapidly. The 
 parliament issued orders to the lieutenants of counties, 
 appointed by them, to carry into effect their ordinance 
 for the militia. The king in return sent forth com- 
 missions of array, according- to the custom of ancient 
 times, to raise forces in each county. The parliament 
 declared all the commissioners of array to be traitors, 
 and ordered them to be apprehended. They voted 
 that an army should be raised " for the defence 
 of the king and parliament," and appointed the Earl 
 of Essex to command it. The king immediately raised 
 a regiment which became the nucleus of an army ; 
 appointed Lindsey his general ; and proclaimed Es- 
 sex, and all the officers under him, who should not 
 lay down their arms, rebels and traitors. The par- 
 liament declared the proclamation a libellous and 
 scandalous paper, and retorted the crime of treason 
 on all those by whom it had been advised, and by 
 whom it should be abetted or obeyed. Both parties 
 appealed to God and the people, as witnesses that 
 not they, but their opponents, were the authors of the 
 impending war ; both, finally, abandoned all pretence 
 of ex])ecting a settlement of their differences by any 
 but the arbitrement of the sword. By these proceed- 
 ings the whole kinadom was thrown into confusion. 
 In every county, almost in every town, the recruiting 
 drum of either party summoning the iidiabitants to 
 muster beneath the standard of Essex, Bedford, and 
 Kinibolton, or that of Lindsey, Newcastle, and Hert- 
 ford, mingled its harsh notes with those of its war- 
 like rival. Strife and variance, hatred, and all evil
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 97 
 
 passions, soon found a consecration and an open 
 avowal in every neighbourhood and on every hearth. 
 The father was divided against the son, the son against 
 the father ; brother was separated from brother, never, 
 it might be, to meet again, unless in mutual oppo- 
 sition amid the conflict of battle. Many, and those 
 not the least conscientious, torn with doubts, hesi- 
 tated ; not daring to choose, where both sides ap- 
 pealed, with equal confidence, to justice and the 
 laws. But neutrality was the one crime which both 
 avenged ; and he who was plundered to-day for being 
 neutral, by the royalists, might to-morrow be carried 
 before the parliament for the same offence, committed 
 to prison, and there perish. Yet it was within the 
 walls of the house of Commons, that the voice of 
 moderation was still raised by two or three individuals ; 
 endured, from invincible respect for truth and honesty, 
 but unregarded, and having indeed, with their pure 
 and prudential virtues, no longer " any business " in 
 that agitated convention. From the speeches of such 
 men, among whom Rudyard and Whitelocke were 
 the chief, we select that of Whitelocke, as eloquently 
 and most prophetically descriptive of the miseries 
 which were actually suspended over the nation. 
 
 After adverting to the restless attempts of popery, 
 as the alleoed orioin of those divisions which dis- 
 tracted the country, he thus continued: — *' But I 
 look upon another beginning of our troubles. God 
 blessed us with a long and flourishing peace, and we 
 turned his grace into wantonness, and peace would 
 not satisfy us without luxury ,^ nor our plenty without 
 
 H
 
 98 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 debauchery ; instead of sobriety and thankfulness for 
 our mercies, we provoked the Giver of them by our 
 sins and wickedness to punish us, as we may fear, by 
 a civil war, to make us executioners of Divine ven- 
 geance upon ourselves. 
 
 " It is strange to note how we have insensibly slid 
 into this beginning of a civil war, by one unexpected 
 accident following after another, as waves of the sea, 
 which have brought us to this point. But what may 
 be the progress of it, the poet tells you : 
 
 ' Jusque datum sceleri caaimus : populumque potentem 
 In sua victrici conversum viscera dextra.' 
 
 We must surrender up our lives into the hands of inso- 
 lent mercenaries, whose rage and violence will com- 
 mand us and all we have; and reason, honour, and 
 justice, will quit our laiid : the ignoble will rule the 
 noble, baseness will be preferred before virtue, profane- 
 ness before piety. Of a potent people we shall make 
 ourselves weak, and be the instruments of our own 
 ruin ; we shall burn our own houses, lay waste our 
 own fields, pillage our own goods, open our own veins, 
 devour our own bowels. You will hear other sounds 
 besides those of drums and trumpets, — the clattering 
 of armour, the roaring of guns, the groans of wounded 
 and dying men, the shrieks of deflowered women, the 
 cries of widows and orphans ; and all on your account, 
 which makes it to be the most lamented. Pardon the 
 warmth of my expressions : I would prevent a flame 
 which I see kindled in the midst of us, that may con- 
 sume us to ashes.
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 99 
 
 " The sum of the progress of civil war is the rage 
 of fii'e and sword, and (which is worse) of brutish men. 
 What the issue of it will be, no man alive can tell ; 
 probably few of us now here may live to see the end 
 of it. It has been said, ' He that draws his sword 
 against his prince, must throw away the scabbard.' 
 Those differences are scarce to be reconciled. Those 
 commotions are like the deep seas : being once stirred, 
 they are not soon appeased. I wish the observation of 
 the Duke de Rohan may prove a caution, not a pro- 
 phecy. He saith of England, that it is ' a great crea- 
 ture, which cannot be destroyed but by its own hand.' 
 And there is not a more likely hand than that of civil 
 war to do it. The best issue that can be expected of a 
 civil war, is, ' Ubi victor flet, et victus perit ;' which of 
 these will be our portion is uncertain, and the choice 
 should be avoided. 
 
 " Yet, though I have said this, I am not for a tame 
 resignation of our religion, lives, and liberties, into the 
 hands of our adversaries, who seek to devour us. Nor 
 do I think it inconsistent with your great wisdom to 
 prepare for a just and necessary defence of them. But 
 I humbly move you to consider, whether it be not yet 
 too soon to come to it. We have tried by proposals of 
 peace to his majesty, and they have been rejected. Let 
 us try again ; let us review our former propositions ; 
 and where the matter of them (as our affairs now are) 
 is found fit to be altered, let alterations be made ; that, 
 as far as may consist with the security of ourselves and 
 our cause, we may unite our endeavours to prevent 
 those miseries which look black upon us : so that there
 
 100 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 may be no strife between us and those of the other 
 party, ' for we are brethren,' " 
 
 The speech of Sir Henry Killigrew, on the same 
 occasion, though in a different strain, was equally 
 characteristic. When, says Clarendon, the mem- 
 bers of the house stood up, and declared what horse 
 they would raise and maintain, and that they would 
 live and die with their general, one saying he would 
 raise ten horses, another twenty, that frank and 
 courageous royalist rose with the rest : " When," said 
 he, " I see occasion, I will provide a good horse, and a 
 good buff coat, and a good pair of pistols ; and then 
 I make no question but I shall find a good cause." 
 Perceiving that after so blunt and unexpected a de- 
 claration his presence was little desired, either on the 
 benches of the Commons or in the streets of London, 
 he took horse for Cornwall, where his estate lay, and 
 was among the first who distinguished themselves in 
 the brilliant actions of the king's friends in the west. 
 
 But the members did not depend on their indivi- 
 dual resources. The parliament had the whole reve- 
 nues of the kingdom at their command. They im- 
 mediately applied to the purposes of the war one 
 hundred thousand pounds of the money raised for the 
 relief of Ireland ; the same sum was lent them by the 
 authorities of the City, whose liberality was eagerly 
 seconded by the popular erithusiasin. Plate, money, 
 jewels, were poured out before the committee of trea- 
 surers, until hands were wanted to receive and room 
 to lay uj) the profuse, but, in some instances, cum- 
 brous oft'erings of the poor people ; some of whom
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 101 
 
 attended again and again, to purchase, with property 
 which they could ill spare, the unknown miseries of 
 years of bloodshed. Yet this abundant voluntary aid 
 from the capital did not preclude the employment of 
 other means in the country, and wherever a less 
 willing disposition prevailed : one of the first exploits 
 of Cromwell was to plunder the house of his uncle, 
 Sir Oliver Cromwell, at Ramsey, of his arms and 
 plate. On the royalist side the sinews of war were 
 not so easily strung. Far from having means to levy 
 or pay soldiers, Charles found himself reduced so low, 
 at this time, by the seizure of his revenues, that one 
 table, at which his children ate with him, was all he 
 could afford. Some arms and ammunition had with 
 difficulty found their way to the coast of Yorkshire, 
 from the queen, but no money. A few contributions, 
 however, came in from the nobility and gentry. Ox- 
 ford sent the University plate to be coined for the 
 kino-'s use ; Cambrido;e also was followino; the ex- 
 ample, when the vigilance of Cromwell succeeded in 
 arresting the venerable treasure on its way. 
 
 Eager for the carnage to come, the sword of that 
 restless and robust Puritan had, in fact, already left 
 its scabbard. Before any commissions were issued, 
 he had trained and armed, at his own expense, the 
 fearless yeomanry of his native neighbourhood ; and 
 had begun to exercise their activity and valour in 
 such exploits as those above related. Hampden, be- 
 neath the "breezy hills" and among the ''ancient 
 woods " that surround, at this day, his mansion in 
 Buckinghamshire, and other patriots in their several
 
 102 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 counties, were similarly engaged. Some trifling skir- 
 mishes had already occurred, in the north, between 
 comparatively large bodies of men on both sides; 
 whom, not want of daring or of mutual animosity, but 
 awe at the thought of being the first to shed blood in 
 that unnatural strife, withheld, for a time, from serious 
 conflict; when, at Portsmouth, the war actually com- 
 menced. Goring, the governor of that town, an officer 
 of ability and experience, was raised by the parlia- 
 ment to the rank of lieutenant-general, and appointed 
 to organise and discipline the army for the Earl of 
 Essex. On various pretences he delayed, as long as 
 he could, to appear in that service; and, on receiving 
 peremptory orders from Lord Kimbolton, replied, that 
 he held Portsmouth from the king, and could not, 
 without his majesty's permission, absent himself from 
 his government. He then administered an oath of 
 allegiance to the garrison and inhabitants, and shut 
 the gates. Sir William Waller immediately advanced 
 to besiege him ; while, at the same time, some ships 
 were brought to blockade the town by sea. On hearing 
 this, Charles judged that the time was come when he 
 could no longer delay a solemn appeal to the sword ; 
 he therefore published a proclamation, requiring all 
 his subjects who could bear arms to meet him at Not- 
 tingham by the twenty-third of August, on which day 
 he designed to set up his royal standard. 
 
 When the day arrived, Charles, with his shadow 
 of an army, consisting of a few troops of horse, was 
 lying near Coventry ; into which place he had been 
 refused admittance by the parliamentarian party
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 103 
 
 within. Leaving his forces there, he rode over 
 to Nottingham, where preparations had been made 
 for his reception, attended only by a small party of 
 his family and adherents. The weather was sullen 
 and tempestuous ; the greater part of the day had 
 been consumed in the journey ; and evening began 
 to draw in, when Sir Thomas Brooks, Sir Arthur 
 Hopton, Sir Francis Wortley, and Sir Robert Dading- 
 ton, the knights chosen to bear the royal standard, 
 proceeded with it from the castle to the adjoining hill, 
 followed by his majesty, the Prince of Wales, Prince 
 Rupert, and the other lords and gentlemen who had 
 joined the king. A numerous company, mounted and 
 on foot, had likewise come in from the surrounding 
 country; rather, indeed, as afterwards appeared, to 
 indulge their curiosity with respect to the mode of 
 conducting an ancient ceremony, never before wit- 
 nessed in the memory of men, than to offer loyal 
 assistance to their sovereign. 
 
 On the hill, three troops of horse and a corps of 
 about six hundred foot were drawn up, to guard the 
 standard. As soon as it was brought to the summit, 
 the king directed a herald to read his proclamation, 
 declaring the ground and cause of that act of warlike 
 solemnity. Just as the herald was about to begin, a 
 scruple seemed to cross Charles's mind. He de- 
 sired to see the proclamation ; and, calling for pen 
 and ink, placed the paper on his knee, as he sat in 
 the saddle, and made several alterations with his own 
 hand ; afterwards returning it to the herald. That 
 officer then read it; but, an coming to the pass-
 
 104 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 
 
 ages which the king had corrected, with some embar- 
 rassment. Immediately the trumpets sounded, the 
 standard was advanced, and the spectators threw up 
 their hats, shouting, " God save the king!" The 
 standard was a large blood-red ensign, or streamer, 
 bearing the royal arms quartered, with a hand pointing 
 to the crown, which stood above, and inscribed with 
 the motto, " Give to Caesar his due." Farther on, 
 towards the point, were represented, at intervals, the 
 rose, the fleur-de-lis, and the harp, each surmounted 
 by the royal crown. A more stirring legend, than that 
 cold appeal to justice might, perhaps, have been wisely 
 chosen ; yet its temperate demand was calculated to 
 rouse in English bosoms a thought which the wild 
 course of events had been sweeping towards oblivion — 
 viz. while all besides were clamouring for rights, real 
 or feigned, had not the king his rights also ; rights 
 which never should have been regarded as hostile to 
 those of the people ? 
 
 Some delay now took place. It was with diffi- 
 culty the standard could be fixed in its place, the 
 ground being a solid rock, and no instrument to pierce 
 it having been provided. Scarcely had this object 
 been accomplished, by means of digging into the firm 
 stone with the daggers and halberd-points of the sol- 
 diers, when a fierce gust of wind, sweeping with a wild 
 moan across the face of the hill, laid prostrate the 
 emblem of sovereignty. Many persons regarded this 
 accident as a presage of evil, and a general melan- 
 choly overspread the assembly. That day no further 
 attempt was made. The louring sky of evening sym-
 
 THE RAISING OF THE STANDARD. 105 
 
 patliisecl with the shadow that lay on men's spirits ; 
 and the standard was borne back into the castle, with 
 the same state as had attended it to the field, but nearly 
 in silence. Whispers, and words low and dubious, 
 as of suppressed apprehension, passed from man to 
 man ; and if, now and then, some faint acclamations 
 rose from the people, their effect was rather to startle 
 than to animate. The next day, indeed, the ceremony 
 Avas repeated, with less gloomy auspices ; again, like- 
 wise, the day following; his majesty and his train 
 presenting themselves each time, as at first. Within 
 three or four days, however, the news arriving that 
 the important town of Portsmouth had been sur- 
 rendered to his enemies, that royal solemnity, by 
 which the horrors of intestine strife were sanctified, 
 and a charter given to impetuous passions and wasting 
 calamity to riot through the land, became associated 
 in the mind of Charles himself with a gloom neither 
 visionary nor transient.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 The reader may adopt which side he please, in the 
 much-contested and interminable question, so inter- 
 esting to the fame of both the two great belligerent 
 parties, — "Who began the civil war?" But, one 
 thing is beyond question, — that the forces of the 
 parliament were actually in the field earlier than those 
 of Charles. At the time when the king set up his 
 standard, he had with him scarcely troops sufficient to 
 guard it, or to protect his own person ; his slender 
 stock of arms and ammunition was still lying at 
 York ; and the troops he had left before Coventry, 
 neither in numbers, nor in any other respect, deserved 
 the name of an army. It was, indeed, the common 
 belief of his adversaries, both in and out of parlia- 
 ment, that he would be Avholly without means to 
 oppose their successful levies; and would consequently 
 be obliged, after all, to subinit to their terms without 
 drawing the SAvord. In the majority of counties, they 
 were able to prevent the commissioners of array from 
 carrying the royal proclamation into effect ; while, at 
 the same time, their own levies proceeded without
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE- — EDGE-HILL. 107 
 
 interruption. Kent, Surrey, Sussex, and the southern 
 counties in general, chose the popular side ; the vigi- 
 lance and activity of Cromwell, in Norfolk, Suffolk, 
 Huntingdonshire, and Cambridgeshire, crushed, at a 
 blow, the whole interest of the royal party in the east ; 
 Middlesex, including London, was entirely at their 
 command. Such, indeed, was the eagerness of the 
 capital to serve under Essex, that, immediately on the 
 issuing of the commissions, four thousand citizens pre- 
 sented themselves in one day, at the Artillery Ground, 
 for enlistment. 
 
 On both sides, the raising of troops was undertaken 
 by the zealous friends of the cause, chiefly in their own 
 neighbourhoods, where their interest was greatest. 
 On both sides also, but not to an equal extent, the 
 expense of the levies and equipments was defrayed 
 by those individuals who raised the respective regi- 
 ments, and by whom they were afterward, in most 
 instances, commanded. The king, in effect, was 
 wholly dependent on the wealthy royalists for the sup- 
 port of his troops ; but the parliament, having the 
 command of the national revenues, and beginning 
 already to seize for the public service the property 
 of delinquents, had, from the first, the means of pro- 
 posing a regular scale of pay, extending from ten 
 pounds per day for the lord-general, to eightpence per 
 day for the privates in infantry regiments. Those 
 noblemen and gentlemen were in general the most 
 active in collecting troops, whose names acquired 
 the chief celebrity during the earlier periods of the 
 war. On the part of the parliament. Sir Thomas
 
 108 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 Fairfax, in the north ; Sir William Waller, at Exeter ; 
 the Earl of Bedford, in Bedfordshire ; Lord Brooke, 
 in Warwickshire ; Lord Kimbolton and Cromwell, in 
 Huntingdonshire and the adjoining counties ; Sir 
 Arthur Haslerigg, in Leicestershire ; Lord Say and 
 his sons, in Oxfordshire ; Lord Wharton and Hamp- 
 den, in Buckinghamshire ; Hollis, Stapleton, and 
 Skippon, in Middlesex, distinguished themselves by 
 their exertions in this service. The recruits were 
 placed at the disposal of the committee of safety, 
 the parliamentary executive, and supplied the J'e- 
 inforcements for the army under Essex, mustering 
 at Northampton. 
 
 England, — the loud beating of whose warlike pulse 
 had, since the great disf)ute arose, wholly drowned 
 the faint, decaying traditions of those miseries that 
 attended her ancient domestic feuds, — had likewise 
 happily forgotten military tactics, and their very 
 nomenclature had become an unknown language. To 
 drill their zealous recruits, withdrawn suddenly from 
 the plough, the anvil, or the loom, the parliament 
 employed officers who had served in the wars of Ger- 
 many : the fortifications and management of the artil- 
 lery were chiefly confided to foreign soldiers of fortune, 
 German or French. The proper equipment of the men 
 was, for the same reason, a difficulty which it required 
 time to surmount. The rude but picturesque match- 
 locks, or muskets, of the period, and, when these could 
 not be had, pikes and poleaxes, supplied the arms of 
 the infantry ; the long heavy sword, the carbine and 
 pistols, the back and breast plates, with the steel cap,
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 109 
 
 common to both horse and foot, presented the supe- 
 rior accoutrement of the cavalry or troopers. Both 
 armies, but especially the king's, were at first but 
 imperfectly furnished with arms of any kind : Crom- 
 well's "Ironsides" obtained that well-known title as 
 well on account of the more " complete steel" in which 
 they were belted, as for their invincible daring ; and 
 every one has heard of Haslerigg's regiment, nick- 
 named, by the Cavaliers, " lobsters," " because of 
 their bright iron shells, with which they were covered, 
 being perfect cuirassiers." The colours of the regi- 
 ments were vaiious, according to the fancy, or, more 
 frequently, agreeing with the household livery, of 
 the respective leaders. This mark of distinction was 
 the more important, because, at the outbreak of the 
 war, it was sometimes the only means of recognition 
 by which, in battle, friend could be discerned from 
 foe, no distinctive field- word having been adopted. 
 " Hollis's," Lord Nugent, in his life of Hampden, in- 
 forms us, ''were the London red coats; Lord Brooke's, 
 the purple ; Hampden's, the green coats ; Lord Say's 
 and Lord Mandeville's, the blue ; the orange, which 
 had long been the colour of Lord Essex's household, 
 and now that of his body-guard, was worn in a scarf 
 over the armour of all the officers of the parliament 
 army, as the distinguishing symbol of their cause." 
 The king's famous regiment likewise adopted red ; 
 the Earl of Newcastle's regiment of Northumbrians 
 were termed, from the white colour of their coats 
 (or, as some say, with reference to their fierce cour- 
 age), " Newcastle's lambs." It was only by degrees,
 
 110 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 
 
 however, that any thing like uniformity was attained : 
 the choice of clothing and arms was, in the first 
 mstance, often decided by the taste or circumstances 
 of the individual wearer. Each regiment or each 
 troojD had its standard, or cornet, bearing, on one 
 side, the watchword of the parliament, " God with 
 us," and on the other the device of its commander, 
 with his motto. The inscription on the Earl of 
 Essex's was " Cave, adsum ;" the better-chosen and 
 more characteristic words which waved, in battle, 
 over the head of Hampden, were " Vestigia nulla 
 retrorsum ; " later in the war, Algernon Sidney, one of 
 the steadiest adherents to the cause, thus expressed, 
 in the motto of the regiment Avhich he commanded, 
 the source of his devotedness to the service : " Sanctus 
 amor patriae dat animum." 
 
 The force which Essex, shortly after the com- 
 mencement of hostilities, was enabled to bring into 
 the field, consisted of about 15,000 infantry and 4500 
 cavalry. The cavalry were distributed into seventy- 
 five troops ; of the infantry, there were twenty regi- 
 ments. Under him, the commanders of highest rank 
 were, the Earl of Bedford, general of the horse, 
 assisted by Sir William Balfour ; the Earl of Peter- 
 borough, general of the ordnance ; and Sir John 
 Meyrick, serjeant-mnjor, or (in the language of that 
 day) serjeant-major-general. 
 
 Such was the constitution of the army, to put him- 
 self at the head of which, that noble commander passed 
 through London on the 4th of September, 1642. Essex 
 was, at this period, in the highest favour with both
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. Ill 
 
 parliament and people. His journey resembled a tri- 
 umphal procession. Accompanied by all the military 
 officers in London, by a long retinue of peers and 
 gentlemen, and by the trained bands, who officiated as 
 his guard, he traversed the City ; from whence to 
 Highgate, " a hedge of people" lined the road on each 
 side, and saluted him with acclamations, crying out, 
 " God bless my lord- general ! Long life to the lord- 
 general ! " 
 
 Meantime the king's affairs wore still a depressed 
 aspect — few adherents coming in, and no money; 
 hesitation and uncertainty pervading the minds of his 
 council ; a general gloom louring on men's counte- 
 nances. Charles's resolution was not overcome ; for 
 he was confident in the righteousness of his quarrel, 
 naturally sanguine, and inclined to that romantic 
 temper, which is roused and supported by the diffi- 
 culties attending great enterprises. He was advised 
 to make yet one more attempt to negotiate with 
 the parliament ; not with any expectation that his 
 proposals would meet with acceptance, but that, in the 
 event of their rejection, the people might be disabused 
 of the opinion that it was he whose obstinacy was the 
 true cause of the war. This advice was ungrateful to 
 him ; but he yielded to the importunity of his council, 
 and despatched propositions for a treaty, by the Earl 
 of Southampton, Sir John Colepepper, and Sir William 
 Uvedale. The event was as had been expected. 
 Conscious of their strength, the parliament treated 
 the messengers with incivility, and haughtily returned
 
 112 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 
 
 for answer, that until the king withdrew his procla- 
 mation, and took down his standard, they could treat 
 no more with him. Charles promised to consent to 
 those conditions, provided the parliament would recall 
 their votes against his friends. They refused ; and 
 voted, that they would not lay down their arms till 
 delinquents were brought to justice, and their estates 
 made to defray the debts of the commonwealth. A 
 few days later he sent a third message, in which he 
 solemnly conjured them to reflect w^hat blood would be 
 shed, and referred his cause to the God of heaven : the 
 parliament replied by retorting on him the charge of 
 indifference to the bloodshed that must follow. This 
 correspondence was of prodigious advantage to the 
 king's cause. The sincerity of Charles's wish to retain 
 the sword still in the sheath, if it were possible, consist- 
 ently with security and honour, was now admitted by 
 many who had doubted it hitherto : concession could 
 go no farther ; sufficient barriers against the encroach- 
 ments of regal power had now been erected ; adversity 
 likewise had begun to produce its usual, softening 
 effect upon the king : there must be, at the least, a 
 better prospect of safety to individuals in supporting 
 their sovereign, than in extending the already enor- 
 mous and illegal power of a party who had declared 
 their purpose to vote whom they })leased delinquents, 
 and seize on their estates for their own purposes. Led, 
 therefore, on the one hand by reviving loyalty, on the 
 other by interest, numbers now hastily sought the 
 royal standard ; and when the king prepared to leave
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 113 
 
 Nottingham, which he did presently after, about the 
 middle of September, his affairs already began to wear 
 a much more cheering appearance. 
 
 The royal army having been increased by rein- 
 forcements from the west and north, contributions 
 from several sources having come in, and Charles's 
 military stores and little train of artillery being brought 
 up from York, he marched across Derbyshire to- 
 wards the Welsh borders, designing to fix his head- 
 quarters at Shrewsbury. 
 
 Between Stafford and Wellington the king halted 
 his army, placed himself in the centre, and, after the 
 reading of his orders of war, reminded his followers 
 of their duty to obey them, and of the probability of 
 an immediate engagement with the enemy. He then 
 l^roceeded thus : " In the presence of Almighty God, 
 and as I hope for his blessing and protection, I declare 
 that I have no other design, no other wish, but to 
 maintain, in life and death, the Protestant religion 
 as established in the Church of England ; to govern 
 according to the known laws of the land ; and, in par- 
 ticular, to observe the statutes enacted in the present 
 parliament. Should I wilfully fail in any one of these 
 particulars, I renounce equally all claim to assistance 
 from man, or protection from heaven. If, however, 
 I should be driven, by my present difficulties, and by 
 the dire necessities of war, to any unwilling violation 
 of this engagement, I trust it will be imputed by God 
 and men to the true authors of the war, and not to me, 
 who have earnestly laboured for the preservation of the 
 peace of this kingdom. But as long as I remain 
 
 I
 
 114 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 faithful to this promise, I hope for cheerful aid from 
 all good subjects, and am confident of obtaining the 
 blessing of heaven." 
 
 The solemnity of this protestation, and the affecting 
 circumstances in which it Avas made, produced a 
 strong impression, throughout England, in favour 
 of the king ; and at Shrewsbury the neighbouring 
 gentry and inhabitants received him with enthu- 
 siasm. Here his army presently swelled to the num- 
 ber of about 10,000 foot and between 3000 and 4000 
 horse. The great bulk of these consisted of the no- 
 bility and landed gentry, their tenants and retainers, — 
 those classes on whom the fine magic of loyalty was 
 not yet powerless, and those who wei-e linked to the 
 cause of ancient right and order, by kindred though 
 less distinguished ties of duty and dependence. In 
 point of equipment the royal troops were inferior 
 to those of the parliament ; but their arms, both 
 offensive and defensive, were nearly similar. Among 
 the most eminent of those royalists, to whose efforts 
 Charles was indebted for the means of taking the 
 field, were — the Earl of Newcastle, in the north; 
 the Earl of Lindsey, and his son Lord Willoughby, 
 in Lincohishire ; John (afterwards Lord) Bellasis, son 
 of Lord Falconbridge, in Yorkshire ; Lord Strange, 
 in Lancashire ; the Earl of Northampton in War- 
 wickshire; in Cornwall, Sir Bevil Grenvil, his 
 younger bi-other Sir Richard, and his son Sir John 
 Grenvil, Sir Ralph Hopton, and Sir Nicholas Slan- 
 ning. In the Earl of Lindsey, for too short a period 
 general of his army, the king possessed a brave
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 115 
 
 officer and a generous subject ; the wise and noble- 
 minded Hertford he made lieutenant-general of the 
 west ; his commissary-general was Henry (subse- 
 quently Lord) Wilmot ; in the office of major-general 
 he was well served by the blunt Sir Jacob Ashley ; Sir 
 John Heydon, a good officer, was general of the ord- 
 nance; and Sir Arthur Aston, "of whose soldiery there 
 was a very great esteem," was made colonel-general 
 of dragoons. Prince Rupert's name has come down to 
 us as almost a synonyme for impetuous daring, as dis- 
 tinguished from sedate and manly courage ; and for 
 intolerable haughtiness, unsupported by real superi- 
 ority. A more striking instance Charles never gave 
 — and his life exhibits not a few — of his blindness to 
 the faults of those he loved, or who stood to him in a 
 relation which in his opinion entitled them to his love, 
 than when he presented that headlong youth with his 
 commission as general of the horse, inserting the 
 strange concession to his vanity, that he should receive 
 orders from no one but himself. 
 
 Yet, in the very first considerable skirmish of the 
 war, the youthful German prince performed a part 
 which seemed, for a time, in the eyes of both armies, 
 to justify the favour of his royal uncle. Rupert, with 
 his brother Maurice, Wilmot, and other officers, 
 had been despatched by the king to watch the 
 movements of Essex, now on his march from North- 
 ampton towards Worcester, and at the same time to 
 support Sir John Byron, who was on his way from 
 Oxford, with a convoy of plate and money. Byron 
 had already reached Worcester; where Nathaniel
 
 116 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 
 
 Fienncs and Edwin Sandys, with a party of the troops 
 raised by Lord Say, had formed a plan to seize and 
 carry him off. In the meantime, Kupert, after a long 
 and rapid march, arrived under the walls of that place. 
 The greater part of his wearied men he permitted to 
 go into the town for refreshment ; hut, intending to 
 retire as soon as they returned with such intelligence 
 as they could meet with, he remained in the field, 
 and, dismounting, threw himself on the grass, in the 
 midst of his officers, without suspicion that any of 
 the enemy's forces were near the spot. On a sudden, 
 a hody of about five hundred horse made their ap- 
 pearance, marching in good order up a lane within 
 musket-shot of the reposing party. No time was there 
 to consult what should be done, or to put themselves 
 at the head of their respective troops. Scarcely had 
 they, in their confusion, mounted, when Rupert, 
 crying out " Let us charge them ! " dashed on with 
 his group of officers, followed at intervals by the 
 men ; and came upon the advancing party as they 
 were in the act of issuing from the lane. The parlia- 
 mentarians were w^ell armed, splendidly mounted, and 
 gallantly led by Colonel Sandys; yet, so fierce and un- 
 expected was the onset of the royalists, that the whole 
 body was at once routed, fled, and were pursued by the 
 conquerors. Between forty and fifty, chiefiy officers, 
 were killed. Sandys himself was taken prisoner, and 
 shortly afterwards died of his wounds. Six or seven 
 colours were likewise captured, with many good 
 horses, and some arms. "This rencounter," remarks 
 Lord Clarendon, " proved of great advantage to the
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 117 
 
 king. For it being the first action his horse had been 
 brought into, and that party of the enemy being the 
 most picked and choice men, it gave his troops great 
 courage, and rendered the name of Prince Rupert very 
 terrible, and exceedingly appalled the adversary ; inso- 
 much that they had not, in a long time after, any 
 confidence in their horse, and their numbers were 
 much lessened by it. For that whole party being- 
 routed, and the chief officers of name and reputation 
 either killed or taken, many of tliose who escaped 
 never returned to the service ; and, which was worse, 
 for their own excuse talked aloud, wherever they 
 went, of the incredible and irresistible courage of 
 Prince Rupert and the king's horse." 
 
 The Earl of Essex's orders were, about this time, 
 forwarded to him by the parliament. He was directed 
 " to march with his forces against the king's army, 
 and by battle, or otherwise, to rescue his person, 
 and the persons of the prince and Duke of York, out 
 of the hands of the ' desperate ' men by whom they 
 were surrounded ; to offer a free pardon to all who, 
 within ten days, should return to their duty, except 
 the Earls of Richmond, Cumberland, Newcastle, Car- 
 narvon, and Rivers, Viscounts Newark and Falkland, 
 Secretary Nicholas, Endimion Porter, and Edward 
 Hyde ; and to forward to the king a petition that he 
 would withdraw himself from his wicked counsellors, 
 and once more rely on the loyalty and obedience of his 
 parliament." As far as regarded the petition, the 
 earl lost no time in discharging his trust. Immediately 
 on his arrival at Worcester, he signified to the Duke
 
 118 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 
 
 of Dorset, then in attendance upon the king at 
 Shrewsbury, that such a paper was intrusted to him 
 to deliver. Charles replied that he ever had been, 
 and would be, ready to receive any petition from 
 his two houses of parliament ; but that he would not 
 receive the petition out of the hands of a traitor. 
 With respect to the more substantial part of his 
 commission, the general of the parliament appeared 
 dilatory and wavering. The impatient energies of 
 Hampden, and Hollis, and Brooke, could not endure a 
 detention of three weeks within the crumbling walls 
 of Worcester : they sought, and found, opportunities 
 of breathing their valour, in encounters, far and near, 
 with such detachments of the enemy as were to be 
 met with at a distance from the main body. It was 
 not lack of courage, of ambition, or of honourable 
 fidelity to the solemn duty he had undertaken, 
 that withheld Essex from advancing. That noble 
 person, in common with many on both sides, was 
 perplexed with the contest in his soul between his old 
 habitual feelings and his new engagements. Owing 
 to the misfortunes of his early life, the earl had at no 
 time been held in that consideration at the court 
 which his merits, as well as his rank, might fairly 
 challenge. By Charles himself he had been coldly, 
 nay, unkindly treated. But for the alienation caused 
 by these circumstances in the mind of a nobleman and 
 soldier, conscious of what was due to himself, the par- 
 liament might have had to seek some other for their 
 general. And still the uneradicable sense of loyalty 
 and honour had held him back, but for that subtle
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 119 
 
 distinction between " the king in his corporate and his 
 personal capacity, which had decided stronger heads 
 than his own to arm in the king's name against the 
 king." Such was then the distracted condition of 
 the nohlest and manliest minds. In that unhappy- 
 period these adverse wrenchings of a " divided duty " 
 were a source of misery, compared with which im- 
 prisonment and forfeiture, proscription, or even death 
 itself, were tolerable. This torn state of feeling was 
 experienced on both sides, but especially, on the side 
 of the parliament ; the mere novelty of whose position 
 was sufficient to harass the conscience with misgivings. 
 Hence, when the critical, the trying hour arrived, not 
 a few who, up to that hour, had striven resolvedly 
 with the parliament against the king, now sought 
 relief by passing over to cool their fevered thoughts 
 beneath the shelter of the royal banner. There it 
 was better with them, yet not well. The worm was 
 gnawing still, though its fangs were fastened in a less 
 vital part ; for, to men of high honour and true re- 
 ligion — the ennobling characteristics of so many in 
 that generation — at once to cast off allegiance to the 
 sovereign, and to trample on the church, was felt 
 as a double parricide. The oppressed bosom yielded 
 to melancholy forebodings of its own fate, or vented 
 itself in vain and womanly reproaches on those it 
 regarded as the authors of its agonies. Thus the once 
 vivacious, but now broken-hearted Falkland, '' sitting 
 among his friends, often, after a deep silence and fre- 
 quent sighs, would, with a shrill and sad accent, in- 
 geminate the word Peace ! peace !" and thus the
 
 120 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 stronger, but equally foreboding- heart of Sir Bevil 
 Grenvil, poured its burning indignation over his own 
 neighbours who had turned " traitors," and raked into 
 the sad story of Essex's early life for a scornful epithet 
 to level against ''the great cuckold who is forced to shut 
 himself up within the walls of Worcester." 
 
 Charles had been able to raise his army to a more 
 respectable state of numbers, discipline, and equip- 
 ment, than, in so short a time, could have seemed 
 possible. Encouraged by the reviving sentiment in 
 his favour, by the success of his skirmishing parties, 
 and by the inaction of the enemy, he resolved to 
 march from Shrewsbury directly on London, at 
 once to terminate the war. Two days elapsed before 
 Essex had put his forces in motion to follow. 
 
 Great surprise pervaded the parliament at the 
 unlooked-for manner in which their urgent entreaties 
 for the king's return to London seemed now about to 
 be granted ; while the people, who had been taught to 
 expect no more to see the sovereign, except as the 
 submissive thrall of " his faithful parliament," were in 
 the greatest consternation. Not vainly, however, did 
 they look to that energetic convention, for direction 
 and support in their apprehended danger ; nor did the 
 *' malignants," who now began to emerge from con- 
 cealment, find that peril had relaxed the arm of the self- 
 appointed guardians of the nation's safety. All persons 
 who had neglected to contribute to the charges of the 
 army were ordered to be secured and disarmed ; all 
 the horses fit for service in the city and suburbs were 
 seized ; chains were drawn across the outlets of the
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 121 
 
 city, and barricades erected in the streets. Men, 
 women, and children, worked together at these rude 
 defences ; and the citizens cheerfully obeyed the order 
 of parliament to close their shops and manufactories, 
 and place their time and their property at its disposal. 
 
 On the morning of the 23d of October, the capital 
 was agitated by a sudden rumour that a fatal battle 
 had been fought. Fugitives from the field had been 
 seen, breathless with haste and fright, hurrying along 
 the roads, and proclaiming that all was lost. The news 
 was circulated in a thousand varied but terrific shapes. 
 Essex had perished, and with his dying words exhorted 
 every man to shift for himself: the king's army was 
 terrible, and resistance utterly vain. All Monday the 
 city continued a prey to these rumours. At length 
 came despatches from Essex ; but fear had, by this 
 time, taken complete possession of men's minds : the 
 earl's report was favourable, and could not be true. 
 The Lord Hastings had entered the house, with ghastly 
 looks, during the reading of the despatches, and de- 
 clared that he had himself been an eye-witness to the 
 defeat. Hastings had indeed been among the foremost 
 to I'un away ; but the last messenger that arrived was 
 the most trusted, more particularly if his report con- 
 firmed the worst. In the horror and consternation of 
 eight-and-forty hours, writes the royalist historian, 
 every man underwent a full penance and mortification 
 for the hopes and insolence of three months before. 
 This must be understood of the honest citizens of Lon- 
 don. The great assembly at Westminster seems to have 
 been but little moved. On that very day they voted.
 
 122 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 indeed, an order for the trained bands to put them- 
 selves in motion ; but proceeded quietly, at the same 
 time, with the ordinary business of parliament. 
 
 0x1 the third day, two members, Wharton and 
 Strode, arrived from the army, and gave a circum- 
 stantial statement of the occurrences there, first in 
 their places in parliament, and afterwards to the citi- 
 zens in the common hall. Their narratives, as might 
 have been foreseen, were partial and confused ; nor was 
 that afterwards ordered by the houses to be printed 
 and circulated, free from the same defects. The 
 phiiner relation of the king presents a more correct, 
 though meagre, outline of the main incidents Avhich 
 signalised that day, so memorable in English annals 
 as the first battle of the Great Civil War. 
 
 Charles had received intelligence of Essex's march, 
 and had turned to face his pursuer. It was early 
 in the morning of the 23d day of October, 1642, 
 when Prince Rupert, dashing on, as usual, with his 
 gallant cuirassiers, found himself on the brow of the 
 wild ridge of Edge-hill, which overlooks the " vale 
 of the Red Horse," near Kineton, in Warwickshire. 
 His quick eye caught at once the object of its search 
 — the army of the Earl of Essex ; its dark masses 
 drawn up along the vale below, in compact order of 
 battle. At this sight, the prince checked his career; 
 fur the van of the king's infantry was left far behind, 
 and his artillery was at a distance of not less than 
 three hours' march : noon had, therefore, long passed, 
 ere the royalists had wound their march, which they 
 were permitted to do without interruption, down the
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 123 
 
 declivity of the hill, and confronted, on even ground, 
 their expectant adversaries. 
 
 Charles assembled round him his lords and cap- 
 tains, and addressed them with feeling and dignity. 
 " My lords, and all here present," he said, " the foe is 
 in sight. Your king is both your cause, your quarrel, 
 and your captain. I have written and declared that I 
 intended always to maintain the Protestant religion, 
 the privileges of the parliament, and the liberties of 
 the subject ; and now I must prove my words by the 
 convincing argument of the sword. Let Heaven shew 
 his power by this day's victory to declai'e me just, and 
 as a lawful, so a loving king to my subjects. Come 
 life or death, your king will bear you company, and 
 ever keep this field, this place, and this day's service 
 in his grateful remembrance." He then rode through 
 the ranks clad in shining steel armour, and wearing a 
 mantle of black velvet, on the front of which glittered 
 his brilliant star and george, and thus continued : — 
 " Friends and soldiers ! you are called cavaliers and 
 royalists, in a disgraceful sense. If I suffer in my 
 fame, needs must you do likewise. Now shew your- 
 selves no malignants, but declare what courage and 
 fidelity is within you. Fight for the peace of the 
 kingdom and the Protestant religion. The valour of 
 cavaliers hath honoured that name both in France and 
 other countries, and now let it be known in England, 
 as well as horseman or trooper. The name of cavalier, 
 which our enemies have striven to make odious, sig- 
 nifies no more than a gentleman serving his king on 
 horseback. Shew yourselves, therefore, now courage-
 
 124 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-IIILL. 
 
 ous cavaliers, and beat back all opprobrious aspersions 
 cast upon you. 
 
 " Friends and soldiers ! I look upon you with joy 
 to behold an army as great as ever king of England 
 had in these later times. I thank your loves offered 
 to your king, to hazard your lives and fortunes with 
 me in my urgent necessity. I feel at this time that no 
 father can leave his son, no subject his lawful king. 
 But matters are not now to be decided by words, but 
 by swords. You all think our thoughts, while I reign 
 over your affections as well as your persons. My reso- 
 lution is to try the doubtful chance of war, while with 
 much grief I must stand to and endure the hazards. I 
 desire not the eff'usion of blood, but since Heaven hath 
 so decreed, and that so much preparation hath been 
 made, we must need accept of the present occasion for 
 an honourable victory and glory to our crown, since 
 reputation is that which gilds over the richest gold, 
 and shall ever be the endeavour of our whole reign. 
 Your king bids you all be courageous, and Heaven 
 make you victorious!" 
 
 Already the fatal clause in Prince Rupert's com- 
 mission, which placed that officer above the orders of 
 his general, had begun to produce its malignant fruits. 
 Lindsey's plan for the disposition of the army was dis- 
 approved by the prince. Ruthen, afterwards Earl of 
 Brentford, to whom the king had given a field- 
 marshal's staff' at Shrewsbury, having been trained in 
 the same school of tactics, supported the royal hussar. 
 Charles a])provcd. With a grieved heart, the generous 
 veteran, who bore the name, without having the autho-
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 125 
 
 rity, of general, retired to the head of his regiment ; 
 Avhere he declared he would fight, and there die, as 
 a private colonel. When the signal to engage was 
 given, he encouraged his men with a few cheerful 
 words ; then, grasping a pike, gallantly led them 
 forward to the charge, on foot. With equal bravery, 
 Essex advanced, in the same manner, on the other 
 side ; and the cannon from both hosts " having dis- 
 charged their choleric errands," the battle closed, the 
 king, giving the word with solemnity, " Go in the 
 name of God, and I will lay my bones with yours." 
 
 The command of the royalists' right wing was 
 taken by Prince Rupert ; of their left, by Commissary- 
 general Wilmot. To Rupert was immediately op- 
 posed the chief strength of the parliament's horse ; 
 in which force they were inferior to the king. Here 
 it was that the fight began. Rupert, his strength aug- 
 mented by the accession of a regiment which, at the 
 instant of charging, came over and joined him, fell 
 upon the enemy with his characteristic impetuosity, 
 and bore down all before him. In a moment their 
 entire left wing gave way, and was dispersed. On 
 the king's left wing, Wilmot, following, with corre- 
 sponding success, the example of the prince, drove the 
 parliament's horse opposed to him through a body of 
 musketeers which had been drawn up for their sup- 
 port. Every other consideration was now lost sight of 
 by the victors, in the pursuit, which they continued as 
 far as Kineton, a distance of between two and three 
 miles. There Hampden, hastening forward with his 
 own and another regiment and some pieces of artillery.
 
 126 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 found them engaged in pillaging the rich baggage of 
 Essex and his officers ; and, by his unexpected ap- 
 pearance, first reminded Rupert, and his ill-employed 
 followers, of returning to the scene they had so im- 
 prudently abandoned. 
 
 Night was closing in upon the field of civil carnage, 
 when Prince Rupert returned to witness the effects of 
 his rash conduct. He found the royal army harassed 
 and broken, and the king himself exposed to imminent 
 danger, while, riding to the foremost ranks, he ani- 
 mated the few troops that yet stood firm, by his words 
 and his example. Charles's own " red regiment," at 
 their earnest request, had obtained leave to be absent 
 that day from his person, and to charge in front among 
 the horse. Against this, and the Earl of Lindsey's, 
 the king's next best regiment, were directed the suc- 
 cessive charges of the powerful brigades of Essex's 
 foot, commanded by the general in person, by Hollis, 
 and by Colonel Charles Essex ; while Sir William 
 Balfour, bringing up his reserve of horse, which had 
 not shared in the general rout of the parliament's 
 cavalry, broke in with terrible execution upon the 
 main body of the royalists. It was now that Lindsey 
 fell, severely wounded, and was instantly surrounded 
 and made prisoner ; which Lord Willoughby per- 
 ceiving, rushed into the midst of the enemy, and 
 voluntarily surrendered himself, to attend on his brave 
 parent. Sir Edmund Varney, the king's standard- 
 bearer, was slain, and the standard taken and retaken : 
 two regiments only maintained their ground. The 
 king and Prince Rupert made every effort to prevail
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 127 
 
 on such squadrons of cavalry as had now returned, to 
 charge afresh ; but without success. Their reappear- 
 ance, however, put a stop to the slackened movements 
 of the parliamentarians ; and the shadows of night 
 descended on the motionless hosts, where they stood, 
 gazing on each other, as if struck with silent remorse, 
 neither side daring to believe that they had gained 
 the first fratricidal victory of the war. Charles now 
 commanded the Prince of Wales and the Duke of 
 York, who had hitherto been by his side, to retire 
 from the field ; but refused to yield to the entreaties 
 of his officers to abandon it himself. He had 
 shewn himself equal, in gallantry and firmness, to 
 the great and unexampled circumstances in which 
 he that day stood : he determined to risk nothing 
 now; "well knowing," observes Clarendon, "that 
 as that army was raised by his person and presence 
 only, so it could by no other means be kept together ; 
 and he thought it unprincely to forsake them who had 
 forsaken all they had to serve him." Doubtful of his 
 actual position, and of what might follow, the sove- 
 reign merely dismounted from his horse, and seated 
 himself by such a fire as could be kindled with the 
 furze and scanty brushwood which grew on the 
 barren heath. It was a keen autumn night ; and a 
 freezing wind sighed along the unsheltered slopes of 
 Edge-hill. Essex's camp was well furnished with pro- 
 visions ; but the king's troops, who had had nothing 
 to eat for many hours, were in danger of perishing 
 with cold and hunger : for the peasantry of the sur- 
 rounding country, zealously devoted to the interests
 
 128 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 
 
 of the parliament, refused to supply provisions for tlie 
 " papistical cavaliers and malignants " who fought 
 with King Charles. More than once, during the 
 night, a report arose that the rehels had retreated ; 
 but when day appeared, they were seen standing 
 in the same spot. Morning advanced, yet neither 
 army moved from its position. 
 
 The king having received intelligence, some days 
 before, that many officers and soldiers of the enemy 
 were ready to lay down their arms, and come over 
 to him, upon assurance of a good reception, had 
 prepared a proclamation to that effect. With this 
 proclamation, he, about noon, sent one of his heralds, 
 Sir William le Neve, to the Earl of Essex ; rather, 
 indeed, to observe the enemy's condition, and to 
 ascertain what prisoners had fallen into their hands, 
 than with much hope of its producing the effect 
 originally contemplated. Clarendon's account of Sir 
 William's reception is amusing. " Before Sir Wil- 
 liam came to the army he was received by the out- 
 guards, and conducted with such strictness, that he 
 could say or publish nothing among the soldiers, to 
 the Earl of Essex ; who, when he offered to read 
 the proclamation aloud, that he might be heard by 
 those who were present, rebuked him with some 
 roughness, and charged him, ' as he loved his life, 
 not to presume to speak a word to the soldiers; ' and, 
 after some few questions, sent him presently back, 
 well guarded, through the army, without any answer 
 at all. At his return he had so great and feeling a 
 sense of the danger he had passed, that he made little
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 129 
 
 observation of the posture or number of the enemy ; 
 only, he seemed to have seen or apprehended so much 
 trouble and disorder in the faces of the Earl of Essex, 
 and the principal officers about him, and so much 
 dejection in the common soldiers, that they looked 
 like men who had no further ambition than to keep 
 what they had left." The king and Essex were both 
 desirous of renewing the engagement, but were pre- 
 vented ; Essex by the advice of Dalbier and the other 
 mercenaries, by whom, chiefly, his brigades were 
 officered ; the king, by the exhausted condition of 
 his troops. Charles drew out his horse at the foot 
 of the hill ; brought off" his cannon, including several 
 of the parliament's, without disturbance ; lingered till 
 evening upon the summit; then moved forward his 
 standard, which, in that conspicuous position, had 
 all day long tossed its defying streamers in the breeze ; 
 and led his wearied followers to their previous quarters 
 at Edgcot, where they obtained food and rest. 
 
 In this first great action there fell between 5000 
 and 6000 men, of whom two-thirds were parliament- 
 arians. On that side two colonels, Charles Essex, 
 reputed the ablest officer under the earl, and the 
 Lord St. John, were slain. Of the king's party, there 
 died on the field of battle, besides Sir Edmund 
 Varney, Lord Aubigny, one of three brave sons 
 of the Duke of Lenox, who that day fought for the 
 king, and Colonel Monroe, " a great commander." 
 General Lindsey was borne, profusely bleeding, from 
 the fight, by the pious assiduity of Lord Willoughby, 
 to the rude shed of a neighbouring farm. In the heat 
 
 K
 
 130 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-HILL. 
 
 and distraction of the engagement, Essex, " among 
 whose faults, hoAvever, want of civility and courtesy was 
 none," foro-ot to send surg-eons to tend his unfortunate 
 antagonist. It was midnight when one arrived, with 
 Sii" William Balfour, and other officers, whom the par- 
 liament's general had sent to tender Lindsey such as- 
 sistance as was at his command, designing himself to 
 visit the wounded commander. They found him stretch- 
 ed on a little straw, pale from loss of blood, but with 
 looks full of animation. " Gentlemen," he said, " I am 
 sorry to see so many of you, and among you some of 
 my old friends, engaged in so foul a rebellion." Then 
 directing his discourse particularly to Balfour, he put 
 that knight in mind of the great obligations he was 
 under to the king. His majesty had incurred the dis- 
 pleasure of the whole nation by giving him the com- 
 mand of the Tower of London : was it not odious ingra- 
 titude to make his royal master the return he had that 
 day made? "Gentlemen," continues the dying earl, 
 " tell my Lord Essex that he ought to throw himself at 
 the king's feet, and implore forgiveness ; speedily let him 
 do it, if he would not have his name a word of reproach 
 among his countrymen ! " The passionate earnestness 
 of the loyal veteran quickened the exhausting flow of 
 blood. The parliamentary officers retired in silence. 
 Ere morning dawned. Lord Willoughby, amid his 
 unavailing services by that forlorn bed of death, had 
 become Earl of Lindsey. Charles made earnest efforts 
 for the immediate release of the victim of filial affec- 
 tion ; but the parliament refused to accept any exchange 
 for young Lindsey, and he remained nearly a year their
 
 ^-[Wliy'-':-'.'' LJi,^'''Wli\ili)T''^ ' '■ ''-■''t.\v'H''-'*^^J-;'' ''i;, ■.''V.'ii " 
 
 X
 
 THE FIRST BATTLE EDGE-FIILL. 131 
 
 prisoner. Other scenes, no less sad, were passing nigh 
 at hand : the following is related, as one of the af- 
 fecting incidents of this bloody field. " A parliament- 
 ary soldier, dying of his wounds, declared that his 
 deepest grief was having received his death from the 
 hand of his brother. Him he had recog-nised amono- 
 the royal troops, and turned aside ; but the carbine 
 was impetuously discharged by the hand which had 
 never before been raised but in affection." 
 
 As soon as the armies had quitted the ground, other 
 parties took possession of it. The fugitive soldiers 
 who had skulked in the neighbouring villages, re- 
 turned with the rude rustics to rifle the dying and 
 the dead. The clergy of the vicinity assembled their 
 more charitable parishioners, to register and give 
 sepulture to those earliest sacrifices to the Moloch of 
 intestine strife. Brother sought out brother, and sons 
 their fathers, to snatch the remains of those they loved 
 from an undistinguished grave ; or, it might be, to 
 cherish and rekindle the yet lingering spark of life. 
 The name of more than one son, of knightly race, is 
 preserved, who, after a search of days, found his 
 parent, naked, covered with wounds, and well-nigh 
 frozen in his blood ; and had his pious cares repaid 
 by the sufferer's recovery. 
 
 Both sides claimed the victory at Edge-hill, which, 
 in fact, neither obtained. The parliament voted that 
 their army had been victorious, and ordered a solemn 
 thanksgiving. The king published a " declaration " of 
 his acts and motives; and forwarded a proclamation, 
 offering a free pardon to the cities of London and
 
 132 THE FIRST BATTLE — EDGE-HILL. 
 
 AYestminster, if they would lay down their arms, in 
 which it is implied that his majesty had been pro- 
 sperous in the late action. With Charles rested, at all 
 events, the advantages of victory. While Essex, his 
 rear harassed by the royal horse, retreated on Warwick 
 and Coventry, the king's army pushed forward to- 
 wards the metropolis ; took Banbury, with Lord Pe- 
 terborough's regiment of six hundred men, quartered 
 in the town ; and continued its march, without inter- 
 ruption, to Oxford.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PARTISAN WARFARE LORDS BROOKE AND 
 
 NORTHAMPTON. 
 
 While, after the battle of Edge-liill, the operations of 
 the two great armies were suspended, or conducted 
 with languor, the warfare of partisans, in the more 
 remote provinces, grew every day sharper and 
 more general. There the movements of the leaders 
 were unembarrassed by public responsibility or po- 
 litical views ; and the private feuds of families and 
 individuals stimulated their zeal, or even determined 
 their choice of a party. The means of commencing 
 and carrying on those little insulated wars, into which 
 every man, even in the remotest corners of the coun- 
 try, if he failed to be drawn by his inclinations, was 
 nevertheless cruelly forced by the circumstances of the 
 time, were obtained in two ways. In the one case, 
 the predominant disposition of a district, of a county, 
 or even of several adjoining counties, influenced and 
 directed probably by one or more distinguished pro- 
 prietors, embodied itself in an application to the par- 
 liament or the king, respectively, for authority to raise 
 troops, and enforce contributions for their main-
 
 134 PARTISAN WARFARE : 
 
 tenance. Such authority was readily given ; a chief 
 or chiefs appointed, or sanctioned, on the recom- 
 mendation of the applicants, free from all control, 
 except the duty of now and then communicating to 
 the great belligerent parties at Westminster or at 
 Oxford a statement of their operations ; or, if need 
 arose, of asking advice or assistance. Of these 
 associations, the earliest were those of the northern 
 counties under the Earl of Newcastle ; of the eastern 
 counties, under the Earl of Manchester and Crom- 
 well ; of the midland counties, under the Lord Brooke. 
 In the other case, a single bold and zealous individual 
 raised, equipped, and supported, at his own expense, 
 his little band of guerilla warriors, drawn from among 
 his tenantry and neighbours ; and carried on the war, 
 as occasion otFered, either single-handed, or in con- 
 junction with other adventurers like himself, until 
 his forces became absorbed in some more considerable 
 armament. Of such bodies, the strength, the po- 
 sition, tlie objects, were continually changing from 
 day to day. One thing alone was permanent, and 
 common to all — to imitate on a smaller scale, but 
 with greater freedom from constraint, the deeds and 
 vices of more numerous armies. Yet the generous 
 nature of the objects of contention, — loyalty, liberty, 
 religion, — in which selfishness had no part, rendered 
 the explosion of the coarser passions in acts of heart- 
 less or wanton violence comparatively rare. The 
 English have proved that revolution and civil war, 
 while they rouse honour from the embrace of luxury, 
 and awaken slumbering genius in high and low, are
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 135 
 
 not necessarily tlie worst of public evils. Englishmen, 
 in the deadliest conflicts of the Civil War, seldom 
 forgot that they were such ; nor was there any 
 one circumstance which contributed more to injure 
 Charles's reputation with this partially misled, but, 
 upon the whole, sound-hearted people, than the powers 
 and indulgences lavished on an individual of a dif- 
 ferent temper. The unfeeling insolence and predatory 
 fierceness of Rupert were qualities of the foreign soldier 
 of fortune, which darkly distinguished the royal troop- 
 er from every other general in the service; and they 
 reflected on the cause for which he fought a portion of 
 that prejudice wherewith he was himself regarded, part- 
 ly as a foreigner by birth, but more as foreign in cha- 
 racter and manners to the manly and humane temper 
 with which the English mingled in that awful contest. 
 
 Various movements occurred in the north between 
 the chivalrous Eaid of Newcastle, the king's general 
 for those parts, and Fairfax, whom the parliament had 
 appointed to the chief command of their northern 
 forces. Sir Hugh Cholmondeley defeated and killed 
 Slingsby, the gallant secretary of Lord Strafford, at 
 Gisborough. Lancashire and Cheshire yielded alter- 
 nately to Sir William Brereton's garrison at Nant- 
 wich, and to the royalists at Chester, under Sir 
 Nicholas Byron. Li the south, Sir William Waller 
 took Chichester ; but this success was more than coun- 
 terbalanced by the fall of Cirencester, which yielded 
 with its strong garrison to Prince Rupert. Eleven 
 hundred prisoners taken in that place are said by 
 Whitelocke to have been marched into Oxford, in a
 
 136 PARTISAN warfare: 
 
 wretched plight, in the presence of Charles and his 
 lords ; and the memorialist adds an anecdote of a re- 
 markably handsome soldier, who, as he was led along 
 on horseback, on account of the state of exhaustion 
 he was in from his wounds, dropped down and ex- 
 pired while in the act of rallying his sinking strength 
 for an angry reply to some reproachful words ad- 
 dressed to him by one of the spectators. 
 
 In the county of Cornwall a romantic and suc- 
 cessful spirit of resistance started up, which the parlia- 
 ment, who were strong in the adjoining counties, by 
 no means expected. " There was in this county," ob- 
 serves Clarendon, " as throughout the whole kingdom, 
 a wonderful and superstitious reverence towards the 
 name of a parliament, and a prejudice against the 
 power of the court ; yet a full submission to, and love 
 of, the established government of Church and State, 
 especially as concerned the Liturgy, which was a 
 general object of veneration with the people." An 
 observation from which, as indeed from a thousand 
 other sources, we may understand how men were torn, 
 by the unhappy events of that period, not only from 
 each other, but from themselves ; and, even within 
 themselves, were divided, not merely by the frequent 
 crossing of their interests and their attachments, but by 
 adverse duties and conflicting principles. The gallant 
 Sir Ralph Hopton, aided by the Grenvils and Sir 
 Nicholas Scanning, lighted a fire of loyalty in those 
 remote regions which rapidly spread through the whole 
 west of Kngland. Liumceston, Saltash with a garri- 
 son of Scots, opened their gates to the king's forces.
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 137 
 
 In the famous fight at Bradockdown, Hopton beat an 
 army sent against Cornwall, under the orders of 
 Colonel Ruthen ; and, with the loss of very few 
 common men, and no officer of name, took 1200 
 prisoners, most of the colours, and all the ordnance, of 
 the enemy. Ruthen again occupied Saltash, and within 
 three days found means to raise works before that 
 place, fortified with cannon taken from a vessel which 
 he had brought up to the side of the town; but 
 Hopton with his Cornish men coming up, drove the 
 Scot from his fortifications, and then out of the town, 
 with the loss of most of his followers. Ruthen himself 
 with difficulty escaped by water to Plymouth, leaving 
 his artillery, his remaining colours, and 1300 prisoners, 
 in the hands of the enemy. Hopton, who distinguished 
 himself in this action, no less by his humanity than his 
 ability and courage, now remained undisputed master 
 of Cornwall. The next march of this gallant chief 
 was upon Tavistock ; where the leading gentlemen of 
 Devonshire laid before him a proposition, designed to 
 avert from their county the miseries of a contest, in 
 which they foresaw the two parties, being nearly 
 balanced, would injure each other without materially 
 affecting the general result. To the plea of human- 
 ity Hopton listened, and a solemn engagement was 
 entered into for the two counties. The example of 
 such confederations had already been set in York and 
 Cheshire. The counties agreed to disband the troops 
 already on foot, within their respective jurisdictions, 
 and to oppose the raising or introduction of any 
 others, without the joint consent of the king and the
 
 138 PARTISAN WARFARE : 
 
 parliament. Both the belligerents, however, natu- 
 rally declared against the authority of contracts which, 
 if generally adopted, must have at once put an end 
 to all prospect of that supremacy which each had in 
 view. They were, therefore, quickly laid aside and 
 forgotten ; and the demon of Civil War, having shaken 
 from him these ineffectual shackles, traversed, unim- 
 peded and unresting, the length and breadth of fair 
 England. 
 
 As the English imported republicanism in religion 
 from Geneva, where it existed because the Helvetians 
 could get no bishops ; so they brought in republic- 
 anism in government from Holland, where it had 
 been adopted because the Dutch could get no king. 
 In our island, republican princijales of both kinds 
 (they have both one root) prospered surprisingly, — for 
 this, beyond all other reasons, that England and Scot- 
 land had too severely felt the authority both of kings 
 and of bishops. 
 
 One of the earliest and least virtuous of English 
 republicans was the Lord Say, who with his sons per- 
 formed so conspicuous a part in the great revolutionary 
 drama of the seventeenth century. The next of note 
 was Sir Henry Vane the younger. The constitutional 
 disposition (for such it may be termed) of that gifted 
 and admired individual, to the wildest political fancies, 
 was generated by a religious fanaticism so eager, that 
 English puritanism, though in the freshness of youth 
 and the fervour of suffering, was found too tame a 
 stimulant : he sought the intoxicating draught, in its 
 more genuine purity, by the waters of Lake Leman,
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 139 
 
 and amid the " obscure wildernesses of Massachu- 
 setts." The third was Vane's contemporary, the second 
 Lord Brooke. Church and king, with whatsoever 
 appertained to them, this nobleman " hated with a 
 perfect hatred ;" and as his honesty was thorough, and 
 his intellectual resources, natural and acquired, hardly 
 inferior to the greatest of that illustrious age, he 
 neither concealed his sentiments, nor, when the oppor- 
 tunity presented itself, was found wanting in energy 
 and ability to clothe them in action. 
 
 A party of the inhabitants of Lichfield and its 
 vicinity had taken possession of their beautiful cathe- 
 dral, a place easily defensible; and held it for the king. 
 The Lord Brooke, who had at this time under his 
 command the greater part of the counties of Warwick, 
 Leicester, Stafford, and Derby, resolved to dislodge 
 this inexperienced band of royalists, before they 
 should have had time materially to increase the 
 natural strength of their fortress. On the first of 
 March he appeared before the town, at the head of 
 1200 men, drawn from the Earl of Essex's army, from 
 the garrison at Derby commanded by Sir John Gell, 
 and from his own determined band of followers at 
 Warwick Castle. Within a short space of the city, 
 the noble republican halted, drew up his forces, and 
 addressed them in a solemn exhortation. He avowed 
 his purpose to destroy that stronghold of popery and 
 superstition, the Cathedral ; whose richly decorated 
 arches and clustering spires, rising high above the 
 fortifications and fair prebendal dwellings in the Close, 
 presented a prospect calculated to win admiration and
 
 140 PARTISAN WARFARE : 
 
 reverence from sectarian prejudice itself. Long shouts 
 of applause followed the announcement. He then 
 lifted up his voice in prayer, desiring that God would 
 by some special token manifest his appi'obation of 
 their design. Afterwards, the whole army joined in 
 singing the 149th Psalm. The concluding verse, — 
 
 " To execute on them the doom 
 That written was before ; 
 This honour all the saints shall have : 
 Praise ye the Lord, therefore, — " 
 
 was still sounding through the ranks, when, the word 
 being given, they marched forward upon the town. 
 Lichfield had no exterior defence, except its feeble 
 gates, which at once giving way before the cannon 
 of the parliamentarians, they took possession of the 
 town ; driving before them into the Close the Lord 
 Chesterfield, who had brought in a small party the 
 day before from Bretby, with such of the citizens as 
 were disposed to take part with the garrison, or to 
 thi'ow themselves into the consecrated fortress for 
 protection. The following day began the siege of 
 Lichfield Close ; an occurrence memorable in the 
 annals of that pleasant city, and not without special 
 interest, as a link in the great chain of similar events 
 which then, like the connected explosions of a thun- 
 der-clap, were bursting out, successively or simul- 
 taneously, in every cpiarter of England. 
 
 The Close was separated from the town by a broad 
 moat, or pool, traversed by two causeways, which 
 offered the only means of access on that side. The
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 141 
 
 available defences of the fortress had been prepared, 
 with some care, to resist an attack. " Mounds had 
 been thrown up between the cathedral and the moat ; 
 the old houses had been pierced with loopholes and 
 embrasures ; and the bastions of the south gate and 
 the battlements of the Lady Chapel had been lined 
 with nmsketeers and marksmen, who were protected 
 partly by the battlements, partly by woolsacks carried 
 up to the roofs of the buildings for that purpose. 
 Some of the long iron guns, called ' drakes,' had also 
 been mounted on the great central tower of the Cathe- 
 dral." 
 
 The besiegers having brought up their artillery 
 as near as they could, opened their fire briskly upon 
 the fortress. It was returned with spirit. Though 
 unequal in numbers and military resources to the 
 task they had undertaken, and impeded in their 
 operations by the crowds of people, herds of cattle, 
 and various property deposited for safety in the enclo- 
 sure, the ganison entered on their defence with great 
 courage and determination. " Under cover of their 
 guns, they made a vigorous sally from the south gate, 
 and captured a large piece of ordnance ; but were over- 
 powered by numbers, and obliged to draw off again 
 into the Close without their prize, and content them- 
 selves with annoying the besiegers by their fire from 
 the battlements." A group who had taken possession 
 of the top of the centre tower of the Cathedral, imme- 
 diately under the great spire, caused great annoyance 
 to the assailants, by being enabled, from their elevated 
 position, to fire over the breastwork upon the gunners.
 
 142 PARTISAN WARFARE : % 
 
 One of this little party was a son of Sir Richard Dyott, 
 a gentleman of property and consideration in the 
 town ; who, though deaf and dumb, entered with the 
 utmost animation into the royalist cause, and from 
 his uncommon skill as a marksman was able to serve 
 it, on this occasion, by a singular exploit. 
 
 Lord Brooke had taken up his quarters in a house 
 near the spot where his battery was placed. This 
 nobleman was accustomed to pray aloud in public, 
 even in the presence of his chaplain. He this day in- 
 tended to storm the Close : he had therefore performed 
 his devotions with more than usual fervour, desiring 
 a sign from heaven to mark the divine approbation 
 of his enterprise, and wishing that if the cause he 
 was engaged in were not the righteous cause, he 
 might presently be cut off; if it were, that his eyes 
 might witness the ruin of that proud edifice, as the 
 prelude to the destruction of all the other cathedrals 
 in the land. Shortly after the utterance of this 
 fanatical petition, the party in the centre tower per- 
 ceived a distinguished person issue from one of the 
 houses, with some attendants, and advance as if to 
 give orders to the gunners. He wore a complete 
 suit of plated steel armour ; a tall plume, springing 
 from a chaplet of laurel, nodded in his shining helmet. 
 This warlike figure pointed upwards to the spire, — 
 he raised his visor, as if to descry more plainly the 
 object against which he seemed to be commanding the 
 soldiers to direct their fire. At that instant the keen- 
 eyed Dyott discharged his fowling-piece ; and Lord 
 Brooke fell dead, pierced by the bullet in his brain.
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 143 
 
 The cry of triumph, that rang from roof to roof, and 
 was quickly taken up by the multitude in the Close 
 below, and the answering silence of consternation 
 without, were both prolonged through England. The 
 energy, integrity, and determined zeal of Lord Brooke 
 were universally known : every royalist, therefore, 
 rejoiced in the destruction of an irreconcilable foe 
 to the church and crown ; every parliamentarian 
 lamented his fallen champion, and vowed revenge. 
 The furious animosity displayed by this brave but 
 unhappy young nobleman against the ecclesiastical 
 government, with the peculiar circumstances of his 
 death, not unnaturally, in that age, gave rise to the 
 opinion that his fall was a judgment of heaven. He 
 himself, indeed, while ostentatiously defying such 
 superstitious conclusions, in reality gave countenance 
 to them ; for he had chosen the day on which he fell, 
 for the assault, as being that of the saint to whom the 
 Cathedral was dedicated, from contempt for his sup- 
 posed tutelary power. The particulars which, at the 
 time, lent currency to such an opinion, are thus quaintly 
 brought together in a letter of the period, printed by Mr. 
 Gresley; to whose arrangement of the incidents, in Tlie 
 Siege of Lichfield Close, we are indebted in this part of 
 our narrative. "That enemy to our church," says the 
 contemporary writer, "was slain in his quarrel against 
 our church, by the God of our church, with a shot out 
 of the Cathedral, by a bullet made of church lead, 
 through the mouth which reviled our church " {mouth 
 for eye, a modest adjustment of facts to the theory): 
 " and," continues he, " (if this be worth your reading),
 
 144 PARTISAN WARFARE : 
 
 this cathedral being dedicated to an old holy Saxon man, 
 called Ceadda (commonly Chad), the blow of death 
 came from St. Chad's church upon St. Chad's day." 
 
 Brief, however, was the respite to Lichfield. Sir 
 John Gell had brought over from Derby, where he 
 commanded for the parliament, to reinforce Lord 
 Brooke, a party of his " good, stout, fighting men ; 
 but the most licentious, ungovernable wretches, that 
 belonged to the parliament." The remainder of that 
 day passed in sorrow and inaction. Before day-break, 
 however, the next morning, the besiegers, eni-aged by 
 the loss of their noble leader, assaulted the fortress on 
 both sides at once ; but were repulsed with great 
 bravery ; and in a sortie from the western gate many 
 of them were slain or drowned in the moat, and 
 several made prisoners. In this attack, Sir John 
 Cell's men made good their claim to the unfavourable 
 character which the memorials of the time have 
 handed down, by the dastardly contrivance of lining 
 their files of soldiers, while advancing, with the 
 helpless relatives and dependants of the besieged, 
 who remained in the town ; thereby rendering it 
 impossible for them to return the fire of their as- 
 sailants. That day, nothing further was attempted ; 
 but on the third, the intrepid little garrison found 
 themselves attacked from a new quarter. Gell, hav- 
 ing received a reinforcement of artillery from Coven- 
 try, including a terrible mortar *' to shoot grenadoes," 
 planted his guns, amounting now to a very consi- 
 derable battery, in the gardens along the side of the 
 l)ool. From this point their fire was directed with
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 145 
 
 deadly effect upon tlie buildings in the Close, now 
 thronged with the best families in the neighbourhood, 
 upon the Close itself, and upon the Cathedral, the 
 peculiar object of animosity to the assailants. The 
 great spire had been seriously injured on the first 
 day of the siege ; and a shot now carrying away a 
 portion of the tower beneath, it fell down suddenly 
 through the roof into the choir, only a few minutes after 
 the clergy had concluded the afternoon service, and 
 retired to the equally becoming employment of tending 
 the wounded in the nave. The following morning, 
 March 5th, the enemy still " proceeding with all 
 imaginable vigour in their attacks upon the Close, 
 and having thrown over many grenadoes, and being 
 ready to blow up the wall," farther resistance was 
 deemed hopeless, and the garrison surrendered, on 
 condition of quarter to all persons in the place. Lord 
 Chesterfield, his son, and other gentlemen of dis- 
 tinction, were among the prisoners ; and the plate 
 and money, the arms, ammunition, and horses, fell 
 into the hands of the victors. 
 
 Blame has been cast on Lord Chesterfield for 
 so early a surrender ; and it is probable that an 
 effort would have been made to hold out some time 
 longer, had the distressed garrison known that relief 
 was nigh at hand. The Earl of Northampton, whom 
 the king had left in Banbury, was already on his 
 march, with a strong party of horse and dragoons, 
 to relieve Lichfield ; when, hearing of its fall, and that 
 some of the royalists in the vicinity had taken refuge 
 in Stafford, he threw himself into the latter town. 
 
 L
 
 146 PARTISAN WARFARE : 
 
 In the brief military career of this gallant noble- 
 man we find an illustration of the fact, that war, even 
 in its most deplorable form, as it now raged through 
 our country, is not an unmixed evil. Independently of 
 those great results which a war of principle may ulti- 
 mately secure, the horrors of a great contest — of a 
 civil contest, perhaps, more than any other — are in 
 some degree mitigated in the view of humanity, by 
 the opportunities its progress may open for the deve- 
 lopement of personal as well as national energies. 
 Families hitherto obscure or insignificant, throw out, 
 through the fissures caused by such political earth- 
 quakes, shoots of genius and virtue, which else had 
 never struggled into the light. Individuals, sunk in 
 luxury and sloth by the security of a passionless and 
 protracted peace, start from their slumber ; with 
 new-strung vigour snatch from their ancestral walls 
 the armour of their forefathers ; and, by being roused 
 as men, to battle with men, for a possession dear lo all 
 mankind, renew their nobility in something nobler 
 than the name : or else, it may be, perish by such an 
 honourable fall as every generous nature would prefer 
 to the long lethargy of corrupting enjoyment. 
 
 Not till some few months before his death did the 
 world, or himself, become acquainted with half the 
 virtues of the Earl of Northampton. During the long 
 period of ease and luxury which preceded, he partook 
 largely of" that license which was then thought neces- 
 sary to great fortunes." But, " when the blast of war 
 blew in his ears," the earl, like so many others, became 
 a new nian. Before the king's standard was set up,
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 147 
 
 his neighbour, Lord Brooke, had found him, in some 
 encounters that occurred between them, more than a 
 match for himself in courage, promptitude, and zeal. 
 
 We will not wrong at once the noble historian of 
 the Rebellion, and this gallant subject of his pen, by 
 farther varying from the original draught of the cha- 
 racter of Northampton. "As soon as an army was 
 to be raised, he levied, with the first, upon his own 
 charge, a troop of horse and a regiment of foot, and 
 (not like some other men, who warily distributed their 
 family to both sides, one son to serve the king, whilst 
 his father, or another son, engaged as far for the par- 
 liament) entirely dedicated all his children to the 
 quarrel, having four sons officers under him ; and, 
 from the time he submitted himself to the profession 
 of a soldier, no man more punctual upon command, 
 no man more diligent and vigilant in duty. All dis- 
 tresses he bore like a common man, and all wants and 
 hardnesses as if he had never known plenty or ease ; 
 most prodigal of his person to danger ; and he would 
 often say, that if he outlived these wars, he was certain 
 never to have so noble a death." 
 
 Knowing himself in no condition to cope with the 
 earl, Sir John Gell retired towards Nantwich, and 
 formed a junction with Sir William Brewerton, who 
 advanced from that place to meet him. The two 
 knights then fell back with their joint forces, num- 
 bering about three thousand horse and foot, with a 
 good train of artillery, upon StafFoid. Northampton 
 had notice of their approach ; and instantly marched 
 out to meet them, with less than a thousand men.
 
 148 PARTISAN WARFARE : j 
 
 expecting to find only Sir John Gell, whose numbers i 
 he knew, and for whose courage he had some con- 
 tempt. 
 
 When the earl came within view of the enemy, 
 who were drawn up to receive him on Hopton Heath, 
 two miles from Stafford, he at once perceived his mis- 
 take. But his resolution to eno-ap-e them did not 
 change. The heath was spacious, and appeared well j 
 adapted to the movements of cavalry; he saw, like- , 
 wise, that his great inferiority lay in his foot. The 
 parliamentarian horse were posted in two bodies, in 
 front of the infantry. He charged the more advanced 
 body, and dispersed them ; the second likewise, with ] 
 such complete success that scarcely a horse of theirs 
 remained on the field. At the same time eight pieces 
 of cannon were captured by the royalists. Dear, how- 
 ever, was the cost of the victory. The earl's cavalry, j 
 pursuing their advantage with that rashness and preci- 
 pitation, of which Prince Rupert had set the example, 
 threw themselves among the ranks of the enemy's j 
 foot. While thus engaged, his horse was killed 
 under him, and he found himself alone on the ground, , 
 surrounded by furious enemies. The colonel of the 
 regiment, among whose ranks he fell, advancing to 
 encounter him, the men drew back, only to see their 
 commander fall, slain by the earl. The enraged sol- 
 diers now closed round the o-allant nobleman, striking^ 
 at him on all sides. One of them, with his heavy 
 matchlock, smote off his helm. They now — such was 
 their own report —   offered him quarter ; which, it was 
 said, he refused, exclaiming that he scorned to take ,
 
 LORDS BROOKE AND NORTHAMPTON. 149 
 
 quarter at the base hands of rebels. A ruffian hal- 
 berdier then dashed his weapon into his brain behind, 
 and he fell covered with wounds. Sir Thomas Byron, 
 colonel of the prince's regiment, now followed up the 
 impression made by his commander, in a successful 
 charge upon the infantry of the parliamentarians. 
 But the victory that day was turned into mourning. 
 " They who had all the ensigns of victory but their 
 general, thought themselves undone ; while the other 
 side, who escaped in the night, and made a hard shift 
 to carry his dead body with them, hardly believed they 
 were losers." They refused to give it up on any other 
 terms than the restitution of all their prisoners, can- 
 non, and ammunition ; they even, with what a writer 
 not apt to censure that party with severity, terms an 
 " incredible baseness," denied to the filial piety of the 
 young earl (who, with two of his brothers, had charged 
 by his father's side at Hopton Heath) permission to 
 send surgeons to embalm the mangled remains. 
 
 In less than a month the walls of Lichfield Ca- 
 thedral — objects, during that period, of the ruthless 
 violence, and witnesses to the insolent profaneness, of 
 the puritan soldiers — once again echoed to the roar of 
 the besiegers' cannon. Prince Rupert, with a strong 
 body of horse and seven hundred foot, marched from 
 Oxford to recover that singular fortress to the king ; 
 and being joined by some of the troops which had 
 lately been victorious under the Earl of Northampton, 
 entered the town on the 8th of April, without oppo- 
 sition, and immediately laid siege to the Close. It 
 was now strongly garrisoned, commanded by a resolute
 
 150 PARTISAN WARFARE. 
 
 officer, and supplied with every thing necessary to a 
 protracted resistance. For several days the fire of the 
 royalist batteries made no impression. The prince 
 now opened a mine mider the walls ; it was met by a 
 counter-mine on the side of the besiegers : the hostile 
 parties met, and fought with fury, in the bowels of the 
 earth. A second mine was sprung, in a place where 
 the besieged were least prepared for it. A tower, 
 with a party of the defenders in it, was blown up ; 
 and a breach of twenty feet in width being made in 
 the walls, the prince assaulted it with his whole avail- 
 able force, but was ultimately forced to retire with 
 the loss of many officers and men. A second time he 
 prepared for the assault ; when the garrison, knowing 
 that the king's orders to his highness were to grant 
 them honourable terms, surrendered, and marched out 
 the following day, under a convoy, to Coventry. Prince 
 Rupert left a powerful garrison in Lichfield, and com- 
 mitted the government of it to Colonel Bagot. Then 
 directing his army to follow him with all possible 
 expedition, he immediately hastened off, with only a 
 few attendants, to rejoin his majesty.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 QUEEN HENRIETTA. 
 
 A MODERN historian, speaking of the lively consort of 
 Charles I., styles her " that pernicious woman ; " 
 Warburton is severe even to rancour, in his strictures 
 upon her conduct : in short, poor Henrietta is exposed 
 to nearly equal censures from both friend and foe of 
 her husband. The daughter of Henri IV. was, it 
 is true, the most unfit of princesses to be, in that 
 age, queen of England. The English disliked her 
 country, despised her manners, and abhorred her 
 religion, — all of which appeared to herself perfec- 
 tion. Her numerous foreign attendants ; the spies 
 who lurked about her, in the guise of ambassadors ; 
 the evil counsellors who enjoyed her unlimited con- 
 fidence under the character of chaplams and confes- 
 sors, did unspeakable mischief to the royal cause. 
 Their insolent behaviour was among the most palpable 
 means of disgusting the people, of inflaming the mis- 
 understandings between the court and the country, 
 and hence, of hurrying on the nation into the vortex of 
 civil war. Charles, while he had an extreme con- 
 tempt for all those parties, was fretted so much by
 
 152 QUEEN HENRIETTA. 
 
 nothing else as by their impertinences, and proved 
 both by the manner in which he at length freed him- 
 self from the annoyance ; yet the people, instead of 
 pitying him, believed him to be in league with his 
 tormentors. He was tender of his consort's honour, 
 and intent on what he deemed her happiness ; but the 
 moral English nation visited this virtuous behaviour as 
 a crime, because the fair object of it was a daughter of 
 France, and a bigoted Roman Catholic. He was as 
 firm and enlightened a foe to her religion, as any in his 
 dominions ; but she was his wife ; she was known to 
 have great influence over the monarch, and to use it 
 unsparingly : — could he, whatever were his profes- 
 sions, be, in heart, less than a papist ? Finally, 
 the parliament, as if at once to direct against her the 
 full measure of the popular dislike, rewarded the 
 most commendable action of her life by impeaching 
 her of high treason! — But we are anticipating the 
 course of events. 
 
 Before the queen's departure from England, in the 
 spring of 1642, it had become obvious to both parties, 
 though both were far from making the avowal, that 
 the sword must ultimately decide their differences. 
 At that time, however, Charles had not the means of 
 raising a single regiment. The great object of Hen- 
 rietta was, therefore, to strengthen her husband's in- 
 terest in Holland, whither she had retired ; and, in 
 particular, to procure arms and ammunition, to be 
 transported to England as his necessities might 
 require. Her activity and address surmounted the 
 repugnance which was naturally felt by the States
 
 QUEEN HENRIETTA. 153 
 
 (with whose assertion of their freedom England had 
 warmly sympathised), to favour any design which 
 might impede the struggles of the English in winning 
 their own. It was to little purpose that the parliament 
 sent over an ambassador, armed with declarations 
 and remonstrances, to desire at least a complete 
 neutrality. The States affected compliance ; but the 
 queen's preparations went on as before. It was chiefly 
 owing to her exertions, that Charles had been enabled 
 to bring an army into the field. She had repeatedly 
 sent him arms and ammunition, and, what he equally 
 wanted, officers of experience to train and discipline 
 his forces. At length, after a year's absence from 
 England, she herself sailed, with a convoy of four 
 vessels supplied by her son-in-law, the Prince of 
 Orange ; eluded the vigilance of Batten, the parlia- 
 ment's vice-admiral, who had received orders to inter- 
 cept her ; and landed safely at Burlington, in York- 
 shire, on the 22d day of February, 1643. 
 
 The Earl of Newcastle, with a detachment of those 
 forces, which, on account of the favour he was in 
 with her majesty, and because they had, from time 
 to time, been reinforced by her means, was styled 
 by the parliament " the Queen's army of Papists," 
 had drawn tow^ard the coast, for the purpose of 
 conducting her to York. Designing, however, to 
 rest, a day or two, from the fatigues and anxieties 
 of the voyage, she took up her residence in a house 
 on the quay. The second night Batten arrived, 
 unperceived, with his fleet, anchored in the road, 
 and, enraged at his disappointment, exposed the
 
 4^ ; :tx« 
 

 
 QUEEN HENRIETTA. 155 
 
 with the crime of high treason. The impeachment 
 was, as usual, carried up to the bar of the house of 
 Lords by Pym ; and this odious attempt was the last 
 effort, in his peculiar province, of the now failing 
 patriot. Could the statesman, who thus sacrificed all 
 other considerations at the shrine of a daring policy, 
 be indeed the same, who, really in the great con- 
 test for the Petition of Right, and ostensibly in the 
 prosecution of Strafford, contended for freedom, the 
 blessing which both enables men to enjoy, and teaches 
 them to venerate, the great moral duties of mankind ; 
 and for law, and that imprescriptible justice, which is 
 its fathomless source ? 
 
 The displeasure of the parliament was so far jus- 
 tified, that the arrival of the queen certainly imparted 
 a new impulse to the king's affairs, and contributed 
 in no small degree to the successful issue of the en- 
 suing campaign. It was the signal for fresh exertions 
 among his adherents ; and supplied a point for the 
 discussion of new projects, and the diffusion of a more 
 general spirit of loyalty. The balanced successes of 
 that noble commander, and his able opponents, the 
 Fairfaxes, father and son, which had so long de- 
 vastated the northern counties without any decisive 
 result, now preponderated in favour of the royal cause. 
 Sir Hugh Cholmondeley, who had served the parlia- 
 ment with great courage and vigour against the earl, 
 attracted by the new aspect of affairs, or yielding to the 
 contagion of chivalrous feeling, offered his allegiance 
 to the queen; delivered up the castle of Scarborough ; 
 and received again the command of that fortress
 
 156 QUEEN HENRIETTA. 
 
 for the king. Proposals to raise a party for Charles 
 in Scotland were earnestly made to her majesty by 
 Montrose, but defeated, for the present, by the craft, 
 or prudence, of Hamilton. Even Sir John Hotham 
 seemed not indisposed to admit Henrietta within the 
 fortress, whose gates he had formerly closed against 
 her royal lord ; and it was one of the charges on the 
 trial of his unfortunate son, that he had suffered the 
 royal convoy to pass unmolested from Burlington to 
 York. 
 
 Four months the queen, in the enjoyment of the 
 sunny prospects thus opened before her, held her court 
 in the capital of the northern counties; her ambition 
 taking delight in the exercise of an independent power, 
 and the affability and liveliness of her manners im- 
 parting it to all around her. Immediately after her 
 landing, she had forwarded a part of her supply of 
 arms and ammunition under a strong convoy to tlie 
 king; but to have pursued her journey towards him, 
 at that time, would have been to throw herself into the 
 power of her enraged enemies.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE TREATY HYDE. 
 
 Winter was approaching when King Charles en- 
 tered Oxford, intending to fix his court, for a sea- 
 son, with the Muses ; whose charms, had peace and 
 leisure waited on his steps in life, few princes could 
 have better appreciated than himself. The boiling 
 blood of Rupert, however, was impatient of a day's 
 inaction. From his head-quarters at Abingdon, the 
 prince made many successful incursions with his cava- 
 liers into the adjacent counties, each time approach- 
 ing near to the capital. In one of these expeditions 
 he attempted Reading ; where the parliament had 
 placed a garrison, under the command of the fan- 
 tastic republican Henry Marten. At sight of Prince 
 Rupert and his fiery cuirassiers, governor and gar- 
 rison precipitately abandoned the town ; and such 
 were the accounts of the terror and disaffection in and 
 near the capital, which the prince received from the 
 inhabitants, that he prevailed on Charles, always too 
 ready to give way to the views of those about him, 
 to advance with his army toward London. 
 
 The parliament were now seriously alarmed. They
 
 158 THE TREATY — HYDE. 
 
 ordered Essex to bring up his army to the metropolis ; 
 and, by a vote of thanks for the victory at Edge-hill, 
 and a present of 5000/., engaged him to pursue the war 
 with activity and decision. They proposed to invite the 
 Scotch to their assistance ; resolved to raise another 
 army, to be placed under the command of the Earl of 
 Warwick ; and ordered that all apprentices who would 
 enlist, should have the period for which they served 
 reckoned toward their freedom. For the means of 
 carrying on the war with increased energy, they ap- 
 plied, as usual, to the city, and levied assessments by 
 oppressive and arbitrary methods ; declaring it legal, 
 not only to seize the goods 'of those who refused to 
 contribute one-twentieth part of their estates, but also 
 to imprison their persons, and expel their families 
 from the metropolis and its vicinity. They hastily 
 voted a petition to the king for peace ; but while their 
 commissioners were attending at Colnbrook to present 
 it, hostile movements were, on both sides, renewed. 
 The general received orders to draw his army west- 
 ward from the city ; the military were commanded, 
 under the strictest penalties, to repair instantly to their 
 colours ; and a committee of both houses was sent to 
 encourage the citizens to renewed resolutions " of 
 defending and maintaining their liberties and religion 
 with their lives and fortunes." 
 
 Essex advanced toward Brentford, and occupied 
 that town with Hollis's re<rinient. There Prince Ru- 
 pert, with some troops of horse and several pieces of 
 artillery, fell suddenly ujion them, intending, it was 
 said, to cut his way through to London ; when Hamp-
 
 THE TREATY HYDE. 159 
 
 den's and another regiment coming to the rescue, a 
 more equal contest followed. After repeated charges 
 on both sides, in which great numbers were slain, and 
 many prisoners taken, the parliament's forces were 
 driven from the town, and it was taken possession of 
 hy the king. But reinforcements were sent in, from 
 all quarters, to the earl. " Bands and regiments of 
 armed men sprung up in succession, as if out of .the 
 earth," says a patriotic writer. An effectual appeal was 
 made to the trained bands to march out, and protect 
 their municipal wealth, and household hearths, from 
 the avidity and license of the cavaliers. These sub- 
 stantial troops were led on by the brave but coarse 
 Skippon ; who, passing from company to company, 
 cheered his unfleshed battalions with familiar talk ; 
 " and the soldiers," observes Whitelocke, " seemed to 
 be more taken with it than with a set, formal oration." 
 Essex's army consisted of full 24,000 " stout, gallant, 
 proper men, as well habited and armed as were ever 
 seen." The general, however, was averse to engage ; 
 the *' old soldiers of fortune," whose pacific advice 
 coincided with his own inclinations, averred that it was 
 honour and safety enough to stop the march of the 
 king. Hampden, mortified by this coldness, proposed 
 to march a body of men to Hounslow, and cut off 
 Charles's retreat, while the main army assailed him in 
 front. This was agreed to ; but they had not pro- 
 ceeded a mile when they were recalled. For one 
 whole day the army stood drawn up on one side of 
 Turnham Green ; while its columns were confronted, 
 on the opposite side, by those of the king. At length
 
 160 THE TREATY HYDE. 
 
 a movement appeared in the royalist ranks. On this, 
 two or three hundred lookers-on from the city turned 
 their horses' bridles, and galloped homewards, followed 
 by some of the soldiers. It w^as the king preparing to 
 quit the field. Either for want of ammunition, or 
 because he dreaded the discredit of interposing farther 
 difficulties to the proposed treaty, Charles had resolved 
 on a retreat. The citizen-soldiers now directed a fierce 
 attack — upon the provisions, the wines, and tobacco, 
 which their waves and daughters had forwarded to 
 them in abundance, from the markets and cellars of 
 the city : and confidence and hilarity once more pre- 
 vailed in the parliameiitarian i-anks. The king, in the 
 meantime, marched, by Colnbrook, to Reading; where 
 he left a garrison of 3000 men under the command of 
 Sir Arthur Aston, and presently re-entered his winter 
 quarters at Oxford. 
 
 From many parts, a loud cry was now^ heard for 
 peace. The city of London, by an order of common 
 council, presented a petition to that effect to the 
 houses of parliament ; in which was enclosed another 
 to the king. The parliament rejected that addressed 
 to themselves, but voted that the petition to the king 
 should be presented. By the advice of the houses, 
 a deputation from the common council proceeded with 
 it to Oxford. When a passage of this document was 
 read, in which the petitioners earnestly besought his 
 majesty " to return to his parliament, accompanied 
 with his royal, not his martial, attendance," engaging 
 ** to preserve his majesty and the two houses from 
 all tumults," Charles smiled : '* You seem to me," he
 
 THE TREATY HYDE. 161 
 
 said, " gentlemen, to jjvomise more than you are able 
 to perform ; for I hear you cannot maintain peace and 
 quiet among yourselves." He promised, however, to 
 give a full answer, which he desired should be read out 
 publicly in the city of London. 
 
 The largest confluence of liverymen ever remem- 
 bered, met on this occasion. A committee of both 
 houses were present. The petition was first read, and 
 was received with such tumultuous applause, that the 
 gentleman by whom the king had sent his answer, 
 alarmed at the cries of the citizens, sought to evade 
 the reading of it, alleging, in excuse, the weakness of 
 his voice. The assembly insisted ; and the abashed 
 messenger was required to read it a second time, from 
 a place where he could be better heard. This time a 
 small party of royalists attempted to raise a shout ; but 
 finding none to second them, desisted. Lord Man- 
 chester then addressed the hall. He was followed by 
 Pym, " that worthy member of the house of Commons, 
 and patriot of his country" (as the reporter styles him), 
 in a speech containing the usual evidences of his mental 
 vigour and unbending repugnancy to the king. " At 
 the end of every period, the applause was so great, that 
 he was fain to rest till silence was a^aiu made." The 
 concluding " words were no sooner uttered, but the 
 citizens, with one joint harmony of minds and voices, 
 gave such an acclamation as would have drowned 
 all the former ; which, after a long continuance, 
 resolved itself into this more articulate and distinct 
 cry: ' We will live and die with the parliament! We 
 will live and die with the parliament ! ' " 
 
 M
 
 162 THE TREATY HYDE. 
 
 Such was the report of one of their thorough-going 
 admirers. But the people were weary of the burdens 
 laid upon them to support the parliament's array ; the 
 citizens also began to feel the effect of an interruption 
 of trade, and dreaded, besides, another visit from 
 Rupert and his cavaliers. Giving way to these dis- 
 positions without, to the demands of the Lords, 
 and of a powerful minority in their own house, the 
 leaders of the Commons consented to discuss propo- 
 sitions for a treaty. Their adoption of this vote is 
 supposed to have been obtained partly by the elo- 
 quence of Sir Benjamin Rudyard, who failed not to 
 appear on the scene as often as the warning voice of 
 wisdom and humanity might be expected, in some 
 momentary calm of the passionate elements, to find 
 attention. 
 
 *' We have already," said that true patriot, " tasted 
 the bitter, bloody fruits of war : if we persist, there 
 will be such a confluence of mischiefs break in upon 
 us as, I am afraid, will ruin the king, the kingdom, 
 the nation. I have long and thoughtfully expected 
 that the cup of trembling, which has gone round about 
 us to other nations, would at length come in amongst 
 us : it is now come at last, and we may have to drink 
 the dregs of it, which God avert ! There is yet some 
 comfort left that our miseries are not likely to last 
 long, for we cannot fight here as they do in Germany ; 
 in tliat vast continent where, although there be war 
 in some parts of it, yet there are many other remote 
 quiet places for trade and tillage. We must fight as 
 in a cock-pit; wc are surrounded by the sea. We
 
 THE TREATY — HYDE. 163 
 
 have no strono;er holds than our own skulls and our 
 own ribs to keep out enemies ; so that the whole 
 kingdom will quickly be but one flame. 
 
 " It hath been said in this house," he continued, 
 " that we are bound in conscience to punish the shed- 
 ding of innocent blood ; but who shall be answerable 
 for all the innocent blood which sliall be spilt hereafter, 
 if we do not endeavour a peace, by a speedy treaty ? 
 Certainly God is as much to be trusted in a treaty as 
 in a war. It is he that gives wisdom to treat, as 
 well as courage to fight, and success to both, as it 
 pleases him. Blood is a crying sin, it pollutes a land : 
 why should we defile this land any longer ? " 
 
 Early in March, 1643, the Earl of Northumberland, 
 with four members of the Commons' house, — Pierre- 
 point, Armyn, Holland, and Whitelocke, commis- 
 sioners appointed by the parliament to treat of a 
 pacification, proceeded to the king at Oxford. Lord 
 Say had also been named, as a second commissioner 
 on the part of the Lords ; but Charles excepted against 
 his lordship, as being one of those individuals whom 
 he had publicly proclaimed traitors, some months 
 before. Charles had his residence in Christ Church. 
 It was in the gardens of that noble college, where he 
 daily walked, accompanied by the prince and the lords 
 of his court, that the commissioners first had access to 
 him. They were most favourably received ; and their 
 intercourse with the court was, throughout, distin- 
 guished by a tone of mutual frankness and honour. 
 The Earl of Northumberland displayed, in his style of
 
 164 THE TREATY HYDE. 
 
 living, unusual splendour ; his plate, liis furniture, his 
 wine, and other provisions, were all sent from his 
 house in London. The lords and gentlemen of the 
 court appeared often at the earl's table ; the king him- 
 self condescended to accept from him some presents for 
 his own. On the other hand, the commissioners had 
 unrestricted approach to his majesty, and were allowed 
 all possible freedom of discourse. 
 
 In fact, it was a part of their instructions to treat 
 with no one but the king in person. That Charles, 
 on his part, was competent to the task laid upon 
 him, is thus testified by one of the commissioners. 
 " In this treaty the king manifested his great parts 
 and abilities, strength of reason, and quickness of 
 apprehension, with much patience in hearing what 
 was objected against him ; wherein he allowed all 
 fi-eedom, and would himself sum up the arguments, 
 and give a most clear judgment upon them. The 
 lords of the council never debated any thing with 
 the commissioners, but gave their opinions to the 
 king in those things which he demanded of them, 
 and sometimes would put the king in mind of some 
 particular things ; but otherwise they did not speak." 
 But the hands of the commissioners were absolutely 
 tied. Their instructions did not so much as leave 
 to their discretion the interpretation of a doubtful 
 phrase. " I am sorry," observed Charles, when this 
 was explained to him, " that you have no more trust 
 reposed in you : the parliament might as well have 
 sent their demands to me by the common carrier.
 
 THE TREATY HYDE. 165 
 
 as by commissioners so restrained." The proposals 
 brought by them were substantially the same which 
 were embodied in the " nineteen propositions," and 
 had already been rejected before a sword was drawn : 
 abolition of episcopacy, and command of the militia to 
 remain with the parliament. But before coming to 
 the conditions of peace, they were to treat about a 
 cessation of arms. To finish the whole treaty, only 
 twenty days were allowed. Six they might employ 
 on the cessation ; and then, whether that point were 
 determined or not, they were to enter upon the 
 terms of pacification. If these were not concluded 
 before the end of the twenty days, the whole negoti- 
 ation was to cease, and they were to return to the 
 parliament. 
 
 The most valuable servant King Charles ever had 
 was Edward Hyde, lord chancellor after the Restor- 
 ation ; and author of the admirable, though extremely 
 imperfect, History of the Rehellion. It was to Hyde that 
 Charles was indebted for that information respecling 
 the plans and movements of his opponents, by which, 
 during the appalling interval that followed his return 
 from Scotland, he was enabled, in some degree, to 
 counteract their efforts. It was he who, with the aid 
 of his accomplished friend Falkland, composed those 
 eloquent public manifestoes which were poured forth 
 so profusely, and with such effect, in the king's name. 
 The sense they entertained of the value of Hyde's exer- 
 tions, in these and other points, the parliament marked 
 by naming him with ten others, in their instructions to 
 the Earl of Essex, as incapable of being ever admitted
 
 THE TREATY HYDE. 167 
 
 ment, and debated by both houses, as to the real in- 
 difference of both the parliament and the king to the 
 success of the negotiations, no progress was made. 
 The period fixed for the committee's return was nearly 
 expired, and only two articles, viz. the first demand on 
 either side, had yet been brought into discussion. The 
 commissioners were not to blame. They were govern- 
 ed, upon the whole, by just and honourable views; and 
 so earnestly desired the success of their labours, that, 
 perceiving the insuperable difficulties which surrounded 
 them, while they complied in all their public pro- 
 ceedings with the letter of their instructions, they 
 nevertheless privately intimated to the king, that if he 
 would submit to some sacrifices, they might possibly 
 find means to obtain a corresponding concession on the 
 other side. The Church was the point on which, be- 
 yond all others, Charles was inflexible. Would he, in 
 order to secure it, surrender the command of the 
 militia — an advantage which the parliament deemed 
 indispensable to their security ? The discussion of this 
 point had been, on one occasion, protracted till mid- 
 night. The committee indulged a belief that the king 
 had been won over ; but at so late an hour they would 
 not ask his written consent. It was agreed to defer it 
 to the morning. Morning came ; and the eager com- 
 missioners made their appearance earlier than usual. 
 But the king's mind was changed. He had been pre- 
 vailed on, during the night, to prepare a totally dif- 
 ferent answer. The disappointed commissioners now 
 suggested, that if Northumberland were restored to
 
 168 THE TREATY HYDE. 
 
 the office of Lord High Admiral, which Charles had 
 taken from liim in consequence of his having appointed 
 Warwick to the command of the fleet, that nobleman's 
 influence mio-ht be found available to soften the obsti- 
 nacy of his opponents. But Charles was stung with the 
 ingratitude of the earl ; whom, to use his own words, he 
 " had ever sought to live with as his friend, and courted 
 as his mistress." The eloquent importunity of Hyde 
 and Falkland was of no avail : the king would merely 
 promise, that he might one day restore Northumber- 
 land's commission, when he had performed some such 
 service as should atone for the past. Still Charles 
 desired that the negotiations should proceed, and pro- 
 posed a prolongation of the term. The parliament 
 refused ; at the same time instructing their commis- 
 sioners to press his majesty to name a day for disband- 
 ing the armies, and to return to his parliament. He 
 replied, that when the command of his revenue, maga- 
 zines, ships, and forts, should be restored to him ; when 
 all the members of the two houses, with the exception 
 of the bishops, should be allowed to return to their 
 seats, as they held them at the opening of the parlia- 
 ment ; and when the houses should be secured from 
 tumultuary assemblies, which could only be done by 
 adjournment to some place twenty miles distant from 
 London, — he would consent to the immediate disband- 
 ing of the armies, and return to his parliament. No 
 answer was returned to these proposals ; but on the 
 l{)th day, the commissioners received peremptory 
 orders to quit Oxford the next morning. They
 
 THE TREATY HYDE. 169 
 
 obeyed ; and from that time all communication be- 
 tween that city and London was interdicted by the 
 parliament. 
 
 Clarendon assigns as the true cause of Charles's 
 haughty refusal of all concession, the famous promise 
 to the queen, that he would neither give away any 
 office nor consent to a peace except by her mediation. 
 The noble historian likewise asserts, that at her land- 
 ing she wrote to Oxford, exjoressing apprehension on 
 the subject of the treaty ; and that the king's motive for 
 desiring a prolongation of the treaty was, that she 
 might have time to reach Oxford before its conclusion. 
 But we have seen that he did not regard the first part 
 of this promise as binding, in the sense commonly 
 understood ; and of the other (if it ever were made), 
 the most rational and probable interpretation seems to 
 be that of Lingard. " As far as I can judge," writes 
 that historian, '' it only meant that whenever he made 
 peace, he would put her forward as mediatrix ; to the 
 end that, since she had been calumniated as being the 
 cause of the rupture between him and his people, she 
 might also have, in the eyes of the public, the merit of 
 effecting the reconciliation." The truth is, the wound 
 had long become immedicable. The faults of both the 
 leading parties in the nation — perhaps, the sins of the 
 nation itself — demanded, at the hand of a corrective 
 Providence, the excision of the "ulcerous part" by 
 the sword ; and peace was impossible till one of them 
 had fallen. War was renewed amidst the mournful 
 apprehensions of the good and wise, who clearly saw 
 that, whichsoever side should now prevail, the liberty
 
 1 70 THE TREATY — HYDE. 
 
 as well as the prosperity of the country must inevit- 
 ably suffer. 
 
 On the very day the commissioners returned to 
 London, the Earl of Essex quitted it ; and, rejoining 
 his army, laid siege to Reading.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HAMPDEN. 
 
 The parliament passed tlie winter in devising schemes 
 for raising money to carry on the war. The assess- 
 ments were rigidly enforced ; the estates of delin- 
 quents and the lands of the church were sequestered ; 
 an excise was, for the first time in our country, im- 
 posed on a great number of commodities. Neither 
 these designs, nor their efforts to recruit the army, 
 were for a moment relaxed during the negotiations at 
 Oxford. The army of Essex, when he sat down be- 
 fore Reading on the 17th of April, was the finest that 
 had yet been seen in this unhappy war. It consisted 
 of about 16,000 foot and above 3000 horse, all well 
 armed, and abundantly supplied with every thing 
 necessary for a siege. Under the command of Sir 
 Arthur Aston, there were few short of 4000 excel- 
 lent troops ; but he had very little ammunition ; 
 and the slight defences of the town were not capable 
 of being long maintained against a powerful enemy. 
 Essex resolved to reduce it by the cautious method 
 of approach. The indefatigable Skippon, to whom
 
 172 HAMPDEN. 
 
 the operations were committed, had already planted 
 his batteries witliin less than musket-shot of the out- 
 works, in doing which the besiegers succeeded in 
 beating back the garrison in several sorties ; when 
 Hampden, whose influence in the army was now of 
 nearly equal weight with the authority of the lord- 
 general, impatient any longer to wait the issue of 
 that dilatory procedure, determined to attempt the 
 walls by assault. Advancing silently from the trenches 
 with 400 picked men, seconded by Colonel Hurry, 
 he passed the ditches in the grey twilight of the 
 morning, and, mounting the rampart, seized upon the 
 northernmost bastion. They met with a brave resist- 
 ance, and were driven back. Hampden, calling for- 
 ward his reserves, immediately placed himself at the 
 head of a second attack ; and, again struggling up the 
 well-defended walls, renewed the fight. The governor 
 had previously been disabled by a shot. Colonel 
 Fielding, who had supplied his place, now brought 
 forward the main strength of the garrison, and a 
 bloody conflict ensued. Both leaders fought, hand 
 to hand, on the ramparts, each at the head of his 
 party. Overpowered by the numbers and determined 
 valour of the royalists, Hampden was on the point of 
 once more retiring, when Hurry, by a sudden move- 
 ment, threw himself between the royalists and the 
 town. The inhabitants, ill-affected to the royal cause, 
 at once ceased firing ; and, after a severe struggle, 
 a parley was demanded by Fielding, and a truce 
 followed. 
 
 Meantime the king, who had no intention to retain
 
 HAMPDEN. 173 
 
 the permanent occuiJation of Reading, reluctantly ad- 
 vanced to its relief, with some divisions of his army 
 hastily drawn together ; designing only to force one 
 of the besiegers' quarters, and withdraw the garrison. 
 But Essex had drawn the principal strength of his army 
 to the west side of the town, towards Oxford. On that 
 side there was no pass, except over Caversham Bridge. 
 To protect that place, a body of the parliamentary 
 troops was posted; against which the king, understand- 
 ing them to consist of only two regiments, — the Lord 
 Roberts and Colonel Berkeley's — detaclied two of 
 his own, the green and the red, commanded by General 
 Ruthen in person. The parliamentarians, however, 
 were immediately supported by strong reinforcements. 
 The skirmish that followed was sanguinary ; and the 
 royalist troops suffering severely, and perceiving no 
 movement attempted from the town, retired, in the 
 end, to their main body. In the night came Fielding to 
 the king, and assured him that neither could he, on 
 his part, hold out the town, nor would the small force 
 which Charles had brought suffice to raise the siege ; 
 but that if the king agreed to his surrendering, good 
 terms might be granted. Charles, who only desired to 
 secure the safety of his troops, consented. The next 
 morning, the town was given up on honourable condi- 
 tions; the garrison joined the army at Wallingford; and 
 the king once more retired to Oxford. Essex lingered 
 in the neighbourhood of Reading. There his army was 
 wasted with disease and desertion ; and his counsels, 
 at the same time, thwarted both by his great masters
 
 174 HAMPDEN. 
 
 in Westminster, and by dissatisfied officers in the 
 camp. 
 
 Six weeks Essex lay at Reading. It was in this 
 interval the famous Waller plot was discovered. This 
 plot was a design on the part of some royalist poli- 
 ticians in London to satisfy the general desire for 
 peace, and for the prevention of farther and direr 
 calamities to the country, by forcibly promoting an 
 accommodation between the king and the parliament. 
 Its results were the expulsion from the house of Com- 
 mons, the fining, and banishment of the principal 
 conspirator, the execution of two of his friends, and a 
 great accession of strength to the war faction. Again 
 Pym was the safeguard of his party; — the genius 
 who laid open their dangers, the thunderer who struck 
 down their foes. With his usual happy blending of 
 adroitness and force — the great secret of popular in- 
 fluence — he so told the tale of his great discovery to the 
 citizens, as effiectually to scatter to the winds the dull 
 ashes which had been gathering, of late, upon their 
 zeal. He introduced an oath against similar designs ; 
 an engagement nominally optional, but in reality im- 
 posed on every member of the Peers and Commons, 
 on the army, and on all citizens. After a terrible pre- 
 amble, asserting that " there has been, and now is 
 on foot in this kingdom, a popish and traitorous plot 
 for the subversion of the true protestant religion, &;c., 
 in pursuance whereof a popish army hath been raised, 
 and is now on foot in various parts of the kingdom;" 
 the subscribers bound themselves never to lay down
 
 HAMPDEN. 175 
 
 arms so long as the papists now carrying on war should 
 be protected from the justice of parliament ; and never 
 to adhere to, or willingly assist, the forces raised by 
 the king, without the consent of both houses. "The 
 popish plot and popish army," observes a modern his- 
 torian, " were fictions of their own to madden the 
 passions of their adherents." 
 
 At length the parliamentarian general, being en- 
 abled to advance, fixed his head-quarters at Thame. 
 And now occurred one of the most eventful actions of 
 the war. 
 
 Hurry, a Scotch mercenary, bred in the German 
 wars, had led the attack on Reading, under Hampden ; 
 and had before done good service for the parliament 
 at Edge-hill, and under Waller. Having, from dis- 
 content with his employers, thrown up his commission 
 of colonel of horse in their army, this man came over 
 to Oxford, and offered to Prince Rupert to lead an 
 expedition against an exposed quarter of the enemy. 
 Knowing Hurry to be an able officer, receiving good 
 assurance of his sincerity in the cause he had adopted, 
 and aware of his thorough acquaintance with the 
 habits and condition of the army he had left, Rupert 
 accepted his proposals, put himself at the head of a 
 powerful body of cavaliers, and, late in the evening, 
 marched out of Oxford, under the guidance of the rene- 
 gade. At Postcombe, the expedition came unexpect- 
 edly upon a regiment of dragoons, and killed, or took 
 them prisoners, to a man. At Chinnor, a second regi- 
 ment was annihilated, and the place itself set on fire. 
 The party then marched back upon Oxford, intending
 
 176 HAMPDEN. 
 
 to fall in witli a body of infantry, which Rupert liad 
 ordered out to meet them by the pass at Chisel- 
 hampton Bridge, the point where he would have to 
 recross the river. 
 
 The army lay in Hampden's country, where every 
 " dingle and bosky bourne " was familiar to him from 
 childhood. Sagacious, and dissatisfied with his excel- 
 lency's arrangements, the Buckinghamshire gentle- 
 man, now a veteran colonel, — for in his year's service 
 he had, by day, seldom quitted the saddle, or allowed 
 his sword rest in its scabbard, — had already per- 
 ceived, and had pointed out to Essex, the exposed con- 
 dition of his lines. That night he lay at Watlington, 
 wiiere the alarm of Rupert's irruption quickly roused 
 him. Instantly he despatched the only trooper that 
 attended him, to the lord-general, to recommend his 
 moving a competent force upon the pass at Chisel- 
 hampton ; and, at the same moment, a body of the 
 parliament's horse, consisting of Sheffield and Cross's 
 troops, coming up, he vokinteered to put himself at 
 their head, and by attacking the prince's rearguard to 
 impede his retreat and give time for Essex to draw out 
 his troops towards the river. " Whereupon the officers 
 and soldiers freely consented, and shewed much cheer- 
 fulness that they could have the honour to be led by so 
 noble a captain." By this time, being joined by Colonel 
 Dalbier and several other officers, they amounted to a 
 body of horse not greatly inferior to Rupert's. 
 
 The prince, meantime, hastened on through Tets- 
 worth, his rear constantly threatened by the pursuing 
 party. On Chiilgrove Field, from which a lane led
 
 HAMPDEN. 177 
 
 down to the bridge of Chiselhampton, he fell in with 
 his infantry. This spot, made famous that day in 
 English history, was then, and still is, an unenclosed 
 plain of several hundred acres. Here, among the 
 green corn which covered it, Rupert drew up his forces 
 in order of battle ; directing the party who guarded 
 his prisoners and booty to move forward to the bridge. 
 The parliamentarians now came fiercely on, in three 
 bodies. Tired and harassed as his men were with a 
 march of twenty miles, and frequent skirmishing, 
 Rupert resolved, notwithstanding, to anticipate the 
 attack. The first body which reached the ground was 
 led by Colonel Gunter ; it consisted of several troops 
 of horse and dragoons, and bore down upon his right 
 wing. Rupert charged ; and the long rapiers of his 
 life-guards did terrible execution. Gunter's party, 
 though at once reinforced by the troops of Colonel 
 Neale and General Percy, gave way and fled, leaving 
 their commander dead upon the field. At this junc- 
 ture, Hampden arriving, eagerly advanced to rally the 
 broken squadrons. Essex, too, was at hand with his 
 main body. Hampden, relates Lord Nugent, at once 
 put himself at the head of the attack ; but in the first 
 charge he received his death- wound. He was struck 
 in the shoulder with two carbine bullets, which, 
 breaking the bone, entered his body, and his arm fell 
 powerless and shattered by his side. Sheffield, who 
 charged with him, was severely wounded, and fell into 
 the hands of the enemy. Sir Samuel Luke was three 
 times made prisoner. Buller, a captain under Sir Philip 
 Stapleton, received a shot in the neck, and was also 
 taken : in no fight, hitherto, had the parliament lost so 
 
 N
 
 178 HAMPDEN. 
 
 many soldiers of name. Overwhelmed by numbers, 
 their best officers killed or taken, their great leader 
 and the hope of their cause retiring in a dying con- 
 dition from the field, and the day absolutely lost, — the 
 forces of the parliament gave way and fled towards 
 Essex's now unavailing squadrons. Rupert, though 
 not able to })ursue, made good his retreat across the 
 river; and about noon entered Oxford, with near two 
 hundred prisoners, seven cornets of horse, and four 
 ensigns of foot, bringing back most of the men who 
 had marched out with him : some officers had been 
 taken prisoners, but none killed. 
 
 The first accounts of this eventful day, published, 
 by the parliamentarians, spoke with confidence of their 
 great champion's recovery : " his wound was more 
 likely to be a badge of honour than any danger of 
 life." But these hopes were quickly dissipated. On 
 moving from the scene of conflict, Hampden was first 
 observed to make for the house of a relation in the 
 neighbourhood. But Rupert's cavalry were covering 
 the jjlain between. Turning his horse, therefore, he 
 rode back in the way to Thame. When he came to 
 a brook whicli divides the plain, he paused a while; 
 but it being impossible for him, in his wounded state, 
 to remount, if he had alighted to turn his horse over, he 
 suddenly summoned his strength, clapped spurs, and 
 cleared the leap. Through such particulars the recent 
 biographer of this eminent person naturally delights to 
 carry his reader. But what must have been Hamp- 
 den's thoughts, as he crossed that field of his youthful 
 remembrances, staining the green blades that glittered 
 in the sun of a bright morn of May with no i<'-noble
 
 HAMPDEN. 179 
 
 blood ? There he had first practised his confiding 
 neighbours, and his admiring tenants and serving-men, 
 in the use of those pikes which they were to level at 
 the crown and the mitres of England ; and there the 
 avenging ball of the royalist had shivered his vigorous 
 right arm I The cause was, to all appearance, declin- 
 ing: — the army weakened, and commanded by a cold 
 and vacillating partisan ; the enemy victorious, and every 
 day gathering new strength ; the parliament rapidly 
 losing the confidence of the people ; Pym, his great 
 fellow-champion, lying on his death-bed — the most 
 sentient nerve of Freedom, the toughest sinew in the 
 whole body of Rebellion, shrivelling like a parched 
 scroll ! Yet, could he have looked further, and with 
 prophetic eyes beheld Naseby — Carisbrook — White- 
 hall, defiled by the blood of a king and the residence 
 of an usurper, more appalling would have been that 
 contemplation of its triumph. Where would he have 
 discovered the laws, which he had vindicated, — the 
 Liberty, at whose shrine he had sacrificed so much, be- 
 sides what was his own, — or, even a free field for that 
 sly but strong ambition, which, more, it may be, than 
 he was himself aware, directed the movements of his 
 life ? In great pain, and nearly exhausted, Hampden 
 reached Thame. The surgeons who dressed his wounds 
 encouraged his grieving fellow-patriots and brothers- 
 in-arms with hopes of recovery ; but his own impres- 
 sion from the first was, that his hurt was mortal. It 
 was too true an one. After six days of intense suf- 
 fering, Hampden breathed his last. 
 
 The prosperous appearance of Charles's affairs, and
 
 180 HAMPDEN. 
 
 the contrast exhibited in the depressed condition of the 
 parliament's, became more obvious after the occurrence 
 of this event. So reduced was Essex's army by sick- 
 ness, defeat, and destitution, that he no longer deemed 
 it safe to remain in tlie vicinity of his restless enemies. 
 Yet the dithculties which surrounded the cause of the 
 patriots, had not the effect of relaxing their determined 
 tone. When Charles, feeling himself fully prepared to 
 meet any forces which his opponents could call into 
 the field, once more sent a message for peace, inti- 
 niatino; that the calamities which would follow a re- 
 newal of hostilities between the main armies would, if 
 they obstinately refused all accommodation, be solely 
 chargeable on them, the houses answered merely by 
 committing the messenger to prison ; and, with a view 
 to close the door against all farther attempts at nego- 
 tiation, the Commons carried up to the Lords the im- 
 peachment of the queen, already mentioned. The 
 king replied to this insult by a declaration, that 
 the two houses at Westminster were no longer a 
 real and free parliament; and forbade his subjects to 
 obey their ordinances. The houses, on their side, 
 resolve to impart legal warranty to their acts, by 
 making a new great seal ; appoint an assembly of di- 
 vines to consult in affairs of religion ; vote the de- 
 spatch of a second embassy for advice and assistance 
 into Scotland ; and, finding much inconvenience 
 from the " multitudes of scandalous books, pam- 
 l>hlets, and papers," with which the whole country 
 swarmed, pass an ordinance to restrain " the liberty 
 of the press !"
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 Hitherto Essex was treated with external respect ; 
 but his popularity, both in and out of parliament, 
 was rivalled by more active and decided, though less 
 important, chiefs. Hampden, indeed, could no longer 
 dispute his laurels ; but Fairfax and his father, in 
 the north, and Cromwell in the east, were already 
 more stirring names in the ears of the patriots. The 
 favourite general of parliament and people, however, 
 was Sir William Waller. 
 
 Waller had served abroad, and, on his return to 
 his own country, obtained an office under the crown. 
 But having engaged in an indiscreet quarrel which 
 brought him under the severe notice of the Star 
 Chamber, and his resentment being quickened by the 
 puritan zeal of his wife, he went over to the patriots ; 
 and was among the first who took out commissions 
 to raise troops for the parliament. The cautious temper 
 of Essex served as a foil to the rapidity and irregular 
 daring of the general of the horse ; and while the im- 
 patience of eager partisans sickened at the dull and 
 indecisive movements of the grand army, they followed
 
 182 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 with exultation the meteoric flashing of the sword of 
 Waller. His successes at Portsmouth and Chichester, 
 at the close of 1642, have been referred to already. 
 About the same time, he recovered Winchester for the 
 parliament. Shortly afterwards, Lord Herbert of Rag- 
 land having raised a large body of troops for the king, 
 AValler detached himself fi-om Essex's army, dashed 
 through Wiltshire, and surprised and took the whole 
 prisoners, under the walls of Gloucester. Hereford, 
 Tewkesbury, Chepstow, Monmouth, successively re- 
 ceived his victorious bands. From Worcester he was 
 repulsed ; but, avoiding the more numerous forces of 
 Prince Maurice, who had been sent by the Marquess 
 of Hertford to intercept him, he led his party safe 
 back; and rejoined Essex, with a dazzling reputa- 
 tion, which was acknowledged in the quaint appella- 
 tion, popularly given him, of William the Conqueror. 
 
 But the conquests of Waller only interrupted the 
 growth of the royalist strength in the west, as the 
 anow cuts the air, Avhich, behind it, closes again. 
 The towns he had entered, immediately reopened their 
 gates to the enemy ; for he left in them no garrisons. 
 These hasty successes, however, determined the par- 
 liament to make an attempt, by sending out an expe- 
 dition under his command, to maintain their waninsr 
 influence in those parts; while Essex, who was un- 
 able to obtain for his diminished forces such supplies 
 of clothing and ammunition as would enable them 
 once more to take the field, had yet the mortification 
 to see an army of 8000 men prepared, on a liberal 
 and eftective scale, for his rival.
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 183 
 
 At the time when Waller was marching out 
 of London, the Marquess of Hertford, with Prince 
 Maurice, effected a junction, on the borders of Devon- 
 shire and Somersetshire, with the Cornish men, vic- 
 torious from the fight at Stratton, in their own 
 county, who had advanced to meet them, under the 
 command of the brave and virtuous Hopton. The 
 king's army, hearing that Waller was already at Bath, 
 marched through Wells to give them battle. Waller 
 drew out his forces on Lansdown Hill ; fi'om whence, 
 on the approach of the enemy, he despatched Hasle- 
 rigg, with his famous regiment of cuirassiers, to 
 charge their horse. At first, the cavaliers, who, till 
 now, had regarded the cavalry of the parliament with 
 contempt, gave ground, in some dismay, before this 
 novel armament ; but, on being brought a second 
 time to the charge, they completely routed, and chased 
 them to the foot of the hill. The summit of Lans- 
 down Hill was crested with breastworks, which were 
 mounted with cannon, and flanked on each side by a 
 wood lined with musketeers; the reserves of the par- 
 liament's horse and foot being drawn up behind. Un- 
 appalled by this disadvantage, the valiant Cornish 
 men, modestly asked permission " to fetch off those 
 cannon." The ascent, in that spot, was deemed in- 
 accessible ; but order to attempt it being, after some 
 hesitation, given, Sir Bevil Grenvil charged fiercely 
 up M'ith his dauntless Britons ; drove the whole body 
 from their ground ; and the king's troops took quiet 
 possession of it. The two shattered armies now faced 
 each other on level ground, neither shewing any dis-
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 185 
 
 with the horse to Oxford, leaving Hopton shut up in 
 Devizes with the infantry ; where it was hoped they 
 might be able to defend themselves, for a few days, 
 till relief should be brought. The next morning Waller 
 assaulted the town with horse, foot, and cannon ; 
 but was repulsed. Having intercepted a party march- 
 ing in with powder and shot, of which he knew the 
 besieged were in extreme need, he thought it a fair op- 
 portunity to propose high terms of surrender. Hopton 
 consented to a cessation of a few hours ; when, his 
 soldiers having obtained a little rest, and found means 
 to supply their immediate want of ammunition, both 
 sides again fell to their arms. Waller had resolved on 
 a general assault ; he had even written to the parlia- 
 ment that " their work was done, and by the next post 
 he M^ould send the number and rank of his prison- 
 ers ; " when the startling news was brought that Lord 
 Wilmot had been sent from Oxford with a large 
 body of horse to raise the siege, and was already 
 within a few miles of the town. Instantly, the par- 
 liamentarian general drew off " without drum or 
 trumpet," to Roundway Down, an open sjoace, two 
 miles towards Oxford, over which the king's forces 
 must pass; where he ranged his columns very ad- 
 vantageously, in order of battle ; the besieged won- 
 dering what the sudden silence around them imported, 
 for they could not believe that, in two days, relief 
 could be at hand. 
 
 Waller, seeing the royalists less numerous than 
 he expected, from pure contempt threw away the ad- 
 vantage of his position ; and, putting Haslerigg and
 
 186 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 his cuirassiers in front, advanced with his cavalry 
 alone to the attack. So well was the onset of that 
 hitherto invincible regiment met, on the other side, 
 by Sir John Byron, that they were forced back in full 
 career upon the main body of the parliament's horse. 
 There, for a moment, they rallied ; when Wilmot made 
 such an effectual charge upon the whole body, defeat- 
 ing it division after division, that it was entirely routed 
 and dispersed, and not a trooper remained in sight upon 
 the Down. Still the foot stood firm ; but, by this time, 
 the Cornish regiments making their appearance from 
 the town, and Wilmot, who had got possession of their 
 ordnance, turning it upon themselves, they also broke 
 their ranks, and fled in every direction. All the 
 cannon, arms, ammunition, colours, and baggage of 
 Waller, with 900 prisoners, fell into the victors' hands. 
 On the side of the parliament, the slain amounted to 
 GOO : the king's army lost few common men, and 
 only one soldier of rank. Sir William Waller, Sir 
 Arthur Haslerigg (who had received several wounds), 
 Colonels Strode and Popham, and other commanders, 
 took refuge in Bristol, whither their arrival brought 
 tlie first news of that disastrous fight. This was a 
 terrible blow for the garrison of that city, a great 
 part of whose strength had been lost in the defeat; 
 but worse apprehensions assailed them, when, ten days 
 later, on the 22d of July, two hosts sat down before 
 their walls, — Prince Rupert, with his Oxford forces, 
 on the Gloucestershire side ; the Marquess of Hert- 
 ford and Prince Maurice, with the victorious Cornish 
 army, on the side of Somersetshire.
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 187 
 
 The first step taken by tlie royalists was to seize 
 on the ships in the harbour; in which were many 
 persons of consideration, who had prepared to avoid 
 the horrors of the siege, by escaping, with their 
 families and treasure, to London. The next was to 
 determine on the method of attack. Rupert's opinion, 
 according with his hot and impatient temper, that it 
 should be by storm, ultimately prevailed. The garrison 
 of Bristol consisted of about 2500 infantry and a regi- 
 ment of dragoons. The town had a line of fortifications 
 drawn entirely round it. At daybreak on the 24th day 
 of July, the besieged beheld from their walls, on either 
 side of the town, at the same moment, their enemies 
 advancing to the assault, in three separate divisions. 
 Each division was crowded with officers, eager for the 
 glory, and disdainful of the danger, of seizing so im- 
 portant a prize. On the west side, the middle division 
 was led by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Sir John Tre- 
 vannion, " the life and soul of the Cornish regiments." 
 The second, on the right, was brought up by Colonel 
 Buck, and Colonel Bernard Ashley, who commanded 
 Hertford's own regiment. Sir Thomas Basset, major- 
 general of the Cornish regiments, advanced with the 
 third division, on the left. The moat in this part 
 was deep, the lines well flanked, and the ground 
 level and exposed ; over which the divisions now 
 poured at once, though provided with hardly any other 
 means of assault besides their ordinary weapons and 
 determined courage. They filled the moat, and some of 
 them mounted the wall ; but the defenders behaved 
 like men of the same mould with their assailants. See-
 
 188 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 ino- Buck precipitated from the rampart, to perish in 
 the foss; the noble friends, Slanning and Trevannion, 
 also fallen together ; and useless slaughter mowing 
 down their ranks in all directions, — the besiegers, on 
 this side, quickly retired in disorder from their bootless 
 attempt. 
 
 The attack was made on Rupert's side, under more 
 favourable auspices ; for here the ditch was shallow, 
 the walls low and weak, and the ground rocky and 
 uneven. His three divisions were conducted by the 
 virtuous and pious Lord Grandison, by Colonel John 
 Bellasis, and Colonel Washington. Of these officers, 
 the first two were quickly wounded, — Grandison mor- 
 tally. Meantime Washington, who headed the centre 
 division, surmounting the outworks, effects a breach in 
 the w^all, enters the line, and is followed by Rupert 
 with a party of his horse and a body of the Cornish 
 foot, who had come round to retrieve their honour on 
 this side; the besieged retreating before them through 
 the suburbs, or assailing them from the houses. Hav- 
 ing reached the gate of the city, with the loss of 
 several other officers, and many men, they prepare for 
 a second, and, apparently, no less difficult assault, on 
 tliat barrier, before they can enter ; when the go- 
 vernor, Nathaniel Fiennes, demands a parley. Host- 
 ages are given, a treaty commenced ; and evening 
 closes the events of a sanguinary day, by the surrender 
 of the second English city to the arms of its sovereign. 
 Nor was this prosperous condition of the king's 
 affiiirs confined to the west. The chivalry of the 
 Earl of Newcastle had by this time reduced the whole
 
 ■>-'srs5i'p;::
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 189 
 
 north, as far as York, and driven the scattered ad- 
 herents of the parliament to take refuge in the strong 
 fortress of Hulk By placing a garrison at Newark, the 
 earl had cut off the communication between Fairfax 
 and the parliamentary forces which were overrunning 
 Lincolnshire. He had already penetrated into the 
 latter county. A light army of horse and dragoons, 
 levied by General Charles Cavendish, younger brother 
 of the Earl of Devonshire, had bravely assaulted and 
 taken the parliament's garrison at Grantham, with 
 above 300 prisoners, all their officers, arms, and 
 ammunition. 
 
 Early in June, the perils of a southward march 
 being now lessened, the queen set out from York to join 
 her husband at Oxford, escorted by a large body of 
 horse and foot, under the command of Cavendish. 
 That gallant young nobleman attended her as far as 
 Burton-upon-Trent ; through which town he opened 
 a passage for her by storming it across the river, 
 which he swam, at the head of his troops. Here the 
 queen and Cavendish parted ; to their mutual regret, 
 if we may judge from the language of Henrietta, in 
 her letter, written at the time, to the king. That 
 lively despatch thus describes the amount and ar- 
 rangements of her convoy. " I carry with me," she 
 writes, "3000 foot, 30 companies of horse and dragoons, 
 six pieces of cannon, and two mortars. Harry Jermyn 
 commands the forces which go with me, as colonel of 
 my guard ; Sir Alexander Lesly, the foot under him ; 
 Gerard, the horse ; and Robin Legge, the artillery : 
 her she-majesty generallissimo, and an extremely
 
 190 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 diligent one, with 150 waggons of baggage to govern 
 in case of a battle. Have a care that Essex's troops 
 incommode us not ; for I hope that for the rest we 
 shall be strong enough." With Cavendish she left, 
 for securing Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire, 2000 
 foot, with arms for 500 more, and twenty troops of 
 horse. 
 
 All these forces properly belonged to Newcastle's 
 army. The earl was, about this time, farther weak- 
 ened by the capture of Goring, and his garrison, at 
 Wakefield. Still prosperity attended his operations. 
 At Atherton Moor, near Bradford, he gained a great 
 victory over Fairfax, in which 700 of the parliament's 
 troops were slain, and 300 made prisoners ; on so 
 considerable a scale was that northern, and, mostly, 
 least-noted, branch of the great contest conducted ! 
 Fairfax fled to the stronghold at Hull; while New- 
 castle marched forward into Lincolnshire, and laid siege 
 to Gainsborough, which the Lord VVilloughby of Par- 
 ham had seized for the parliament. 
 
 It was in a skirmish near Gainsborough, that the 
 first military exploit occurred by which Cromwell 
 made his name a familiar Avord throughout Eno;land. 
 Enough, indeed, had already been seen of his character, 
 to enable discerning observers to perceive that it em- 
 bodied, in a shape of prodigious but coarse energy, the 
 spirit of the age, — its serious eloquence, running, in 
 him, into affected mysticalness and heavy verbiage : its 
 steady valour, changed to calculating fierceness; its in- 
 tense religious affections, perverted to stern fanaticism. 
 Into the deep focus of his strong and ambitious mind
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 191 
 
 Cromwell had gathered those characteristics; and now 
 sought to send them forth again, in a form moulded by 
 his will, and made subservient to his designs. He saw 
 around, and felt no less convincingly within himself, 
 that the age of loyalty was gone ; and that religion, as 
 a social and political force, was to supply the place of 
 loyalty : but religion, uninformed and unregulated by 
 the church, and therefore (such w^ill ever be the case, 
 when it is thrown wholly upon individual feeling) 
 taking the characteristics of fanaticism ; — religion tor- 
 tured, at least in words, to every vulgar appliance, and 
 hence often no more than the cloak of the hypocrite. 
 TJiese were the elements that composed this extra- 
 ordinary person ; and to this model he effectually 
 moulded his instruments. Collecting about him a 
 band, from those classes among whom, in every age, 
 such dispositions most readily meet, and in whom 
 the thirst of freedom is generated by a sense of inde- 
 pendence, — the sturdy yeoman, the easy, thriftful, 
 conceited burgher, he wrought them, by the master- 
 power of his energy and genius, into an engine, which, 
 he doubted not, — and he was not deceived, — would, 
 effectually resist, and finally explode, the dreaded chi- 
 valry of the cavaliers, animated as it was by the lin- 
 gering breath of fealty in the nobles, and by piety, if 
 by little else, in the sovereign. These stout-hearted, 
 associates he armed, mounted, trained, and disciplined, 
 himself. He was their comrade, as well as their chief; 
 associating with them at all seasons, and in all moods, 
 he could layby the part of the drill-serjeant and, equally 
 for their behoof, assume the office of the preacher.
 
 192 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 Crafty and stringent was the creed he taught them. 
 The gospel, as exhibited in Puritanism, liberty, as 
 exemplified in the parliament, constituted the cause of 
 God. The king had allied himself with popery and 
 malignancy : to fight against him, while fettered by 
 those fiendish confederates, was to fight, not for them 
 selves, not for their families and country, only, but for 
 God and Truth. Should they conquer, they would be 
 glorious and happy ; should they fall, it was good to 
 forfeit life in such a cause ! Faith grew, as confidence 
 increased with increasing strength. Here was the 
 germ of a military and religious despotism. From this 
 little fulcrum was launched the power which, finally, 
 scattered all that remained of church and parliament, 
 including the first instigators of the war themselves ; 
 frighted this great nation into submissive, dumb de- 
 spair ; and 
 
 " hewed the throne 
 Down to a block ! " 
 
 Cromwell, in his march to relieve the garrison at 
 Gainsborougli, at the head of his Huntingdonshire 
 troopers, joined with some regiments from Lincoln- 
 shire and Nottingham, fell in with the first division 
 of Newcastle's army, under the command of young 
 Cavendish. The royalists vrere first perceived on the 
 summit of an acclivity ; towards which when Crom- 
 well advanced, he found his progress impeded by 
 a fence, running along at the foot of the hill, with 
 only one narrow opening. Through this passage he 
 deliberately filed his men, while exposed to the fire of
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 193 
 
 the enemy; and then led them on to the top of the 
 eminence. Here a large body of the royalists charged 
 them ; but, meeting with such resistance as that army 
 had never before encountered, were borne down, after 
 a short but determined fight with swords and pistols, 
 and fell back upon their reserve of cavalry. Caven- 
 dish, unable to rally his main body, now put himself 
 at the head of the reserve, fell upon and put to flight 
 the Lincoln and Nottingham troops ; but was, in his 
 turn, attacked in his rear by Cromwell, who by this 
 time had formed his men afresh. The onset was fierce 
 and unexpected ; and Cavendish's troops giving way 
 before it, were forced into a marsh, at the foot of the 
 acclivity, where, unable either to fight or to fly, they 
 were savagely butchered, with their chivalrous com- 
 mander, by the Huntingdonshire troopers. It was 
 fruitless bloodshed ; for, the army now making its 
 appearance, Cromwell brought off" his men, and re- 
 treated into the town ; from thence falling back to 
 Lincoln ; which also he abandoned at the approach of 
 the royalists, and took refuge in Boston. 
 
 Cavendish was among the most lamented victims of 
 this deplorable contest. When his body was brought 
 to Newark, where he had commanded, the people 
 would not suffer it to be interred, till for some days 
 they had feasted their eyes with the sight of it, " and 
 embalmed it with their tears." Even at the distance 
 of many years, when the remains were removed to 
 Derby, fresh lamentations were made by those who 
 had known him, and by others who had been taught 
 from infancy to revere his name ; and the whole town, 
 as one man, ''expressed the most sorrowful unwilling- 
 
 o
 
 194 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 
 
 ness to part with the reliques of so dear a person, who 
 had been the ornament and defence of that place." 
 
 Another striking incident occurred, in connexion 
 with the occupation of Gainsborough. At its first 
 capture by the parliament's forces, several persons 
 of rank were made prisoners ; in particular, the 
 Earl of Kino^ston. This nobleman was one of those 
 moderate persons, who, like Falkland and Rudyard, 
 bitterly deprecated the war : it is related by the 
 anecdotists of the time, that being urged to declare 
 himself for either parliament or king, he uttered a 
 passionate wish that, whenever he took part with either 
 against the other, a cannon ball might divide his 
 body between them. When Lord VVilloughby under- 
 stood that the Earl of Newcastle was advancing against 
 the town, he sent away his noble prisoner, in a pinnace, 
 to Hull. The vessel was fired at on the voyage, by the 
 royalist troops ; and though she got clear, the good 
 Earl of Kingston, as he was called, perished from a 
 cannon shot, divided — so say the admirers of fatalism 
 — in precise accordance with his imprecation. 
 
 By this time, the queen had pursued her journey 
 southward ; the towns yielding at her approach, and 
 the nobility and gentry flocking to her standard. At 
 Stratford-on-Avon she was met by Rupert ; and Charles, 
 having received information of her advance to the bor- 
 ders of Oxfordshire, proceeded with his sons to give 
 her welcome. The joy of the meeting was enhanced 
 by two most pleasing circumstances : — it occurred in 
 the same field, under the height of Edge-hill, where, a 
 few months before, Charles had valiantly fought his 
 first battle ; and hardly was the first embrace, endeared
 
 THE ROYALISTS VICTORIOUS. 195 
 
 by long separation, much suffering, and mutual peril, 
 over, when a breathless messenger broke in upon the 
 royal pair, with the news of the great victory gained 
 that day at Round way Down. Their entry into Oxford 
 was a triumph. 
 
 The effects of Stratton, of Lansdown, of Roundway 
 Down, and of Bristol, were now felt, in all directions. 
 Exeter was surrendered to Prince Maurice, by the Earl 
 of Stamford. Dorchester, Portland, Weymouth, sub- 
 mitted to the brave Earl of Carnarvon. Barnstaple 
 and Bideford yielded to Colonel Digby. Taunton, 
 Bridgewater, and Bath had likewise, by this time, 
 opened their gates to the forces of the king. The 
 prosperity of the royal cause amazed Charles's adver- 
 saries : it equally surprised his friends. Gloucester 
 excepted, all the inland parts of the west had now 
 returned to their allegiance. The north, from Berwick 
 to Newark, was for the king. And now the chivalry 
 of Newcastle was striking through the grand associ- 
 ation of the east, the largest and compactest surface on 
 which the parliamentarian interest moved. But, what 
 seemed of more importance, this prosperous condition 
 of the king's affairs was the means of daily briijging 
 over converts to his cause. Beneath the royal banner, 
 the timid now began to think there was the most 
 safety ; the selfish, that there was most to gain ; 
 the idolaters of power, that there the object of their 
 worship was the most worthy of it ; the lovers of 
 peace, that by throwing themselves and their fortunes 
 into that descending scale, they might soonest obtain 
 their benevolent desires.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 The war-party in the parliament were not men to 
 despair. But on the news of the last of the great 
 successes of the king's armies, the victory at Atherton 
 Moor, reaching them, they determined on an expe- 
 dient, which nothing but the present failure of all 
 other resources could have led them to adopt. The 
 nation had seen so much of the Scots, in their two 
 recent inroads into the south, and in the conduct of 
 their commissioners, that not even the popular sym- 
 pathy on the score of religion, nor the gratitude of 
 the party for their services against the king, could 
 prevent a revival of the ancient hostile prejudice 
 against that people. An intelligent Scotchman, writ- 
 ing from London in June, complains bitterly of the 
 contempt and ill-usage which his countrymen met 
 with. In fact. Hurry's revolt, which led to the defeat 
 at Cha] grave Field, and to the death of Hampden, 
 originated in just discontent with the treatment of 
 the Scots by the parliamentarians. " The name of 
 a Scot," observes the letter-writer alluded to, " is 
 grown as odious amongst the Londoners, as the
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 197 
 
 name of Satan is to tlie soul of a saint ; yet," he 
 adds, " they are still longing and praying for our 
 help." Such was the fact : notwithstanding this 
 prevalent dislike, no other expedient appearing to 
 promise safety in the present terrible crisis, it was 
 resolved, at a conference of the two houses, instantly 
 to send a committee for aid from Scotland. The 
 patriots were enabled to obtain the consent of the 
 Lords to this proposal, in consequence of the offence 
 taken by them at the declaration, recently received 
 from Oxford, denying the legality of the parliament. 
 But the measure was unpopular. Only a few days 
 earlier, the Lords had passed a solemn protestation of 
 loyalty to the king, and prepared a petition for peace. 
 A letter arrived, at this very juncture, from the Earl 
 of Essex, describing his want of means to carry on the 
 war, and advising the parliament to send j)ropositions 
 to the king for such a peace as would secure the reli- 
 gion, the laws, and liberties of the nation. No mem- 
 ber of the house of Peers could, therefore, be induced 
 personally to engage in the proposed mission to Scot- 
 land. The Lord Grey of Werke, their speaker, hitherto 
 the unflinching agent of his party, refused ; and was 
 committed to the Tower for contempt. The Earl of 
 Rutland was then named ; but eluded the employment 
 on pretence of ill health. At length, it was resolved 
 to send only members of the Commons ; and on the 
 20th of July the committee, consisting of Sir Henry 
 Vane and Sir William Armyn, with two other mem- 
 bers, and Marshall and Nye, the one a Presbyterian, 
 the other an Independent minister, were dismissed
 
 198 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 from London by sea, it being impossible to reach 
 Edinburgh by land, except through the quarters of the 
 Earl of Newcastle. 
 
 On Vane, the projectors of the scheme wholly de- 
 pended for success. As the bearing of this measure 
 upon the events which followed was in a high degree 
 important, it will be proper to shew the state of opinion 
 in the parliament, with respect to the great question 
 it involved, and the difficulties with which its authors 
 had to contend. For this purpose, we shall transfer 
 a paragraph from the recent Life of Vane, by Mr. 
 Forster. 
 
 " The Scots," observes that spirited advocate of 
 the parliament, " were known to be bigoted to their 
 own persuasions of narrow and exclusive church govern- 
 ment, while the greatest men of the English parlia- 
 ment had proclaimed the sacred maxim, that every 
 man who worshipped God according to the dictates 
 of his conscience was entitled to the protection of the 
 state. But these men. Vane, Cromwell, Marten, and 
 St. John, though the difficulties of the common cause 
 had brought them into the acknowledged position of 
 leaders and directors of affairs, were in a minority of 
 the house of Commons; and the party who were their 
 superiors in number were as bigoted to the most ex- 
 clusive principles of Presbyterianism as the Scots 
 themselves. Denzil Hollis stood at the head of this 
 inferior class of patriots; Glyn, the recorder of 
 London, and Maynard, were among its ablest sup- 
 porters. Waller and Massey in the army. Sir Philip 
 Staplcton and Sir John Clotworthy, ranged themselves
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 199 
 
 under the same banners. The most eminent of the 
 parliamentary nobility, particularly Northumberland, 
 Essex, and Manchester, belonged also to this body ; 
 while the London clergy, and the metropolis itself, 
 were almost entirely Presbyterian. These things con- 
 sidered, there was indeed great reason to apprehend 
 that this party, backed by the Scots, and supported 
 with a Scottish army, would be strong enough to 
 overpower the advocates of free conscience, and set 
 up a tyranny, not less to be deplored than that of 
 Laud and his hierarchy, which had proved one of the 
 main occasions of bringing on the war. Yet, opposing 
 to all this danger only their own high purposes and 
 dauntless courage, the smaller party of more consum- 
 mate statesmen were the first to propose the embassy 
 to Scotland." 
 
 Leaving, then. Vane to his tedious voyage of 
 twenty days from London to Leith, and to the deep 
 and difficult part afterwards, which none, like him, 
 could play ; let us glance at the equally critical and 
 perplexed position in which his colleagues in the 
 capital were placed, after his departure. 
 
 Every day brought an account of some fresh skir- 
 mish, in which the royalists were victorious ; or some 
 application to parliament, for relief from the hardships 
 which pressed upon their armies. Waller, after having 
 departed from London, a few weeks before, with a fine 
 army, and in so confident a temper that in every town 
 upon his route he left orders for the reception of his 
 prisoners, had re-entered the capital a solitary fugitive. 
 Essex also was returned to Kingston, with his troops in
 
 200 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 SO broken and destitute a condition, that he himself 
 declared they were not worthy the name of an army, 
 lie, at the same time, demanded redress for his own 
 injured honour : his troops had been defrauded of 
 credit and supplies, for the benefit of another army ; 
 yet the very parties by whose misconduct that army 
 had been ruined, and the west lost to the parliament, 
 had aspersed the general-in-chief as the author of 
 these reverses. At the moment when these ill-timed 
 dissensions occurred, came forth a new and more 
 gracious declaration from the king. A door of pacifi- 
 cation seemed again thrown open. On the 4th of 
 August, the Lords seized the occasion to desire a con- 
 ference with the other house ; in which they submitted 
 some propositions for a treaty, of a more moderate 
 tenour than any yet brought forward. They proposed 
 the immediate disbanding of both armies ; that the 
 members who had been expelled for absence should be 
 recalled ; that all questions relating to the church and 
 the militia should be reserved for future considera- 
 tion, — the first in a synod of divines, the others in 
 parliament. The moderation of these articles was 
 terrible to the men of root and branch. The prospect 
 they hehl out of accommodation was, to the last de- 
 gree, alarming. Pym was now far gone in that sick- 
 ness which shortly after laid his slandered body in 
 the grave ; but the dying lion roused up at the 
 danger which threatened the darling object of his life's 
 struggles, Republican Liberty. A hot debate ensued 
 upon the conference ; at ten at niglit it was resolved, 
 by a majority of twenty-nine voices (ninety-six to
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 201 
 
 sixty-five — tlie house, at that time, could muster no 
 more !), to adopt the propositions. This was on Satur- 
 day. " Unparalleled efforts " were to be made. The 
 next day, all the pulpits resounded with prophecies 
 of destruction to the city, if a peace were now offered 
 to the king ; the citizens were exhorted to rise, as 
 one man, and come down, the next morning, to the 
 house of Commons. Twenty thousand Irish rebels, 
 it was averred, were landed, and on their march to 
 London. Inflammatory placards were stuck up, and 
 printed papers scattered abroad, with a celerity and 
 effect never imagined until the war of pamphlets and 
 libels, Avhich, from the beginning of this distracted 
 period, kept pace with the nobler strife of the senate 
 and the field. Pennington, lord mayor of London, 
 assembled a common council, the same evening, at 
 Guildhall ; in which was passed a petition to the Com- 
 mons against any accommodation. In the morning a 
 deputation of citizens made their appearance before the 
 Commons with the petition, and, annexed to it, a 
 draft of an ordinance, empowering a committee to 
 raise means for a vigorous prosecution of the war. 
 An immense concourse of people, brought together 
 for that purpose, demanded, with cries that penetrated 
 through both houses, a favourable answer to their 
 prayer. The Lords sent to acquaint the Commons, 
 that they had resolved on an adjournment till the 
 tumults were put down : the Commons took no notice 
 of this intimation, but thanked the petitioners for their 
 zeal and attachment. 
 
 The propositions were again hrought forward, in
 
 202 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 the midst of great disorder and excitement ; and after 
 a very long debate, a division being called for, the 
 tellers counted eighty votes for sending them to the 
 king, and seventy-nine against that proposition. A 
 fearful uproar followed the announcement of the num- 
 bers. The Pyms, Vanes, and St. Johns, loudly insisted 
 on a second division. Some terrified members escaped 
 in the confusion ; for now the last vote was found to 
 be reversed by a majority of seven ! 
 
 The next morning a counter-petition was brought 
 from the City, — not by the men, for the recent exe- 
 cution of the associates of Waller had taught the 
 male population to be cautious; but by the women. 
 Two or three thousand of that sex, wearing white 
 ribands, the emblem of peace, in their bats, came with 
 their petition to the door of the house of Commons. 
 It was received, read, and an answer returned ; though 
 not, as in the former instance of a ladies' petition, by 
 the leader of the Commons, or in equally favourable 
 terms. The petitioners, not satisfied with the answer, 
 remained about the house. By noon, their numbers 
 were nearly doubled. Some men in women's clothes 
 now appeared in the throng, and, mounting to the 
 door, set up a shout of " Peace ! Peace !" The guard, 
 a party of the City trained bands, endeavoured to re- 
 pulse these troublesome suitors; and, having succeeded 
 in clearing the stairs, fired their muskets, loaded with 
 powder only, to fright them away. But this merely 
 increased the violence of the mob : "Give us," they 
 exclaimed, " the traitors who will have no peace, that 
 we may tear them to pieces ! Give us the dog Pym ! "
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 203 
 
 On this, a troop of horse was ordered forward, who 
 dispersed them with great cruehy ; "■ kilhng some 
 three or four women," as Baillie alleges, " hurting 
 some, and imprisoning many," 
 
 Immense exertions were now made by the patriots 
 to confirm their hard-won victory. The greater part 
 of the members of the assembly of divines, which had 
 now commenced its sittings, visited, by order of the 
 parliament, their respective parishes, for the purpose 
 of stimulating the people to new efforts in the cause. 
 Waller, who, notwithstanding his total defeat, had 
 been received on his return "as if he had brought the 
 king prisoner with him," was appointed commander- 
 in-chief of the militia and defences of London, and 
 preparations were made for enabling him again to take 
 the field. An ordinance was passed for an army to be 
 put under the command of the Earl of Manchester; and 
 another, empowering the committees in the counties to 
 press soldiers, gunners, and surgeons. Having given 
 the lord-general this practical intimation, that they 
 did not depend on his excellency alone for the con- 
 duct of the war, they next plied every artifice to fix 
 him in their interests, and to urge him to exertions 
 worthy of himself and of the common cause. Pym, 
 Say, and St. John (it was Pym's last public labour), 
 visited the camp, as a committee of the two houses. 
 They assured Essex of the cordial support and confi- 
 dence of the parliament ; asserted that ingratitude was 
 the reward with which Charles acknowledged the 
 services of his ablest generals ; and hinted that he 
 nourislied peculiar feelings of resentment against the
 
 204 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 earl. Essex now as plainly indicated a want of intel- 
 lectual firmness, in the readiness of his convictions, as, 
 by his wavering conduct, he had before done of the 
 strength of his conscientiousness. Pym, by his dex- 
 terous arguments and insinuations, wholly changed 
 him, and wrought him to that resolved temper which 
 he afterwards continued to retain. In three days, he 
 said, he would begin his march to meet the king ; 
 and at twelve o'clock that very day, would draw his 
 troops to the rendezvous on Hounslow Heath ; where 
 he besought the commissioners to attend and inspect 
 them. 
 
 The fortifications around London were also now 
 completed. Great part of the labour required to 
 construct these defences was supplied by the voluntary 
 enthusiasm of the people. An esprit de corps, merged, 
 in our days, in sentiments either narrower or more 
 diffused, animated, in those times, the separate guilds 
 of citizens. Those bodies rivalled each other in the 
 alacrity with which they engaged in this novel em- 
 ployment. The trades marched out to the work in 
 separate parties, bearing mattocks, shovels, and other 
 tools, with drums beating, colours flying, and swords 
 girded. Mixed with most of these companies were 
 to be seen women and girls, some of them ladies 
 of rank and education, two and two, carrying baskets 
 filled with earth ; many of whom wrought in the 
 trenches, till they fell ill from the effect of unusual 
 exertion. Of the works thus patriotically raised, 
 an interesting description remains ; and though long- 
 ago, every vestige of their existence has been swept
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 205 
 
 away, by the liand of Time, or the march of Im- 
 provement, they appear to have been, for that age, of 
 respectable efficiency. The stranger, on approaching 
 the capital by water, before he found himself en- 
 closed between those dense ranks of merchantmen, 
 which, even then, covered both banks of the Thames, 
 was frowned upon, from either shore, by a stern 
 multangular fort, with its deep trench and bristling 
 palisades ; surmounted by cannon, and guarded by 
 many a steel-capped musketeer, sworn foes to cava- 
 liers and malignants. From Limehouse, where they 
 commenced, the lines stretched on to Whitechapel, 
 to Shoreditch, to Hoxton ; then along, by Holborn, 
 to St. Giles's and Marylebone, to Tyburn and Hyde 
 Park ; whence bending round by Tothill-fields, the 
 river was again commanded by tvro forts, the one 
 erected at that station, and the other at Nine Elms, 
 on the opposite side ; from which point they stretched 
 across the angle of Surrey, through Newington, to 
 Redriff, where they again terminated upon the stream. 
 At each of these, and of many intervening angles, a 
 fort commanded the adjoining approaches. There 
 were, in all, twenty-four forts, besides redoubts, 
 counterscarps, and halfmoons, along the trenches, 
 between ; the whole planted with 212 pieces of ord- 
 nance : a circuit of twelve miles, enclosing great 
 wealth, and swarming with a various and eager popu- 
 lation. At each chief central point, within this wide 
 circumference, was placed a corps-de-garde, — in the 
 City, in Southwark, by the houses of Parliament, 
 at Whitehall. The writer, from whose curious details
 
 206 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 we copy the present sketch, though a Scotchman, a 
 Presbyterian, and a devoted admirer of the parlia- 
 ment, unconsciously throws in a natural touch of 
 loyal feeling-, which finishes the grand but melancholy 
 picture of a mighty capital in rebellion against its 
 sovereign: " I found," says he, "the grass growing 
 deep in the royal courts of the king's house; which, 
 indeed, was a lamentable sight." 
 
 When Charles engaged the sons of his sister, the 
 Queen of Bohemia, in the prosecution of the quarrel 
 with his parliament, he introduced into his cause ele- 
 ments of dissension, which materially contributed to 
 its defeat and ruin. Bristol was the chief city inclu- 
 ded in the brave Marquess of Hertford's commission, 
 as lieutenant-general of the West; and the marquess 
 was chief in command, at the siege ; nevertheless, 
 Prince Rupert had not only engaged in the treaty 
 without his advice, but concluded the articles of 
 capitulation without naming him, or noticing his 
 presence. This was not to be borne by a nobleman, 
 who, though " of the most gentle nature to the 
 gentle," was equally " rough and resolute to the 
 imperious." In return, Hertford, with as little cere- 
 mony, proceeded to the choice of a governor for that 
 inqiortant place; selecting for the office the unex- 
 ceptionable Sir Ralph Hopton. Rupert, on the other 
 hand, proceeding upon the right of conquest, which he 
 arrogated to himself, wished to reserve the appoint- 
 ment in his own disposal ; and, understanding what 
 the marquess designed, in the same despatch by which 
 he acquainted the king with his success, besought him
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 207 
 
 to bestow tlie government of it on himself, as its captor. 
 Charles, perplexed by the incident, and more so by 
 the factious temper which it indicated, endeavoured 
 to solve the difficulty by himself going to Bristol, and 
 conferring the government on his nephew, upon his 
 agreeing to grant a commission to Hopton, as his lieu- 
 tenant ; and by lavishing many personal attentions 
 upon the marquess. To this arrangement Hertford 
 submitted, from a sense of duty to his sovereign; but 
 the army rang with murmurs that a rude young 
 foreigner, whose best quality was animal courage, and 
 whose highest merit consisted in the nepotic partiality 
 of the king, should contemptuously step before one of 
 the prime nobility of England into the government of 
 the capital of the West. A second motive was like- 
 wise forced upon Charles, for keeping the Marquess of 
 Hertford about his person ; notwithstanding that, all 
 this time, the heroic army of Cornwall was eagerly 
 demanding back their leader. Rupert had inspired 
 his brother Maurice with his own petulant disposition : 
 it was too much that the king's nephew should be the 
 lieutenant of a marquess. Hence, while the magnani- 
 mous and experienced Hertford was retained, an un- 
 willing satellite, in the royal tent, the temperate 
 heroes of the West were submitted to the command 
 of a youthful prince, unacquainted with English man- 
 ners, and ignorant of the merits of the cause in which 
 he drew his sword. The consequences were soon appa- 
 rent. The gallant Earl of Carnarvon, than whom no 
 man had contributed more to the successes of the royal 
 arms at Mendip Hill, at Lansdown, and at Round-
 
 208 THE CRISIS OF THE WAE. 
 
 way Down, and to whom Dorchester, Weymouth, 
 Portland, had successively yielded, was driven from 
 that army by disgust ; and from this time the previous 
 terror of the enemy at the sight of its banners so far 
 subsided, that the little burghs of Lyme and Poole 
 now laughed at its summons with impunity. 
 
 The advantage secured to the patriots by their great 
 and irreversible triumph, was not lessened by its dimi- 
 nishing the numbers of their adherents ; yet the king, 
 by the reception given, on his part, to the seceders, 
 strangely overlooked his own. Charles was recalled, 
 from before Gloucester, to Oxford, by the consequences 
 of this event. Seven peers — more than a third of the 
 Lords' house — with several Commoners, the most 
 eminent of the advocates of peace, had quitted West- 
 minster ; most of them for the king's quarters. The 
 Earl of Northumberland, with characteristic prudence, 
 obtained leave to retire to his house at Petworth, 
 designing to wait there till he should be enabled to 
 decide his movements from observing the I'eception 
 given to his friends by the court. The Earl of Clare 
 went into Worcestershire ; the Earl of Portland, and 
 the Lords Conway and Lovelace, directly to Oxford. 
 The Earls of Bedford and Holland, being suspected, 
 reached, with some difficulty, the royalist garrison at 
 Walliugford ; from whence notice of their arrival was 
 forwarded to the king. A generous, nay, a sound 
 policy, would have dictated a cordial reception to the 
 seceders, tardy as their repentance had been. But 
 Charles had his own feelings, always strong against 
 undutifulness, to consult; while his council, to whom,
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 209 
 
 with seeming indifference, he referred back the ques- 
 tion, had their own selfish views. Bedford had served 
 against the king, as general of the parliament's horse ; 
 Holland, by his repeated treachery and ingratitude, 
 had still more deeply offended. The court was ex- 
 travagantly elated with the successes of the royal 
 arms, and considered it no season for concession. 
 Perhaps, the baser minds among its adherents were 
 already calculating the plunder of the vanquished, and 
 were unwilling to let the wealthiest of the expected 
 prey deliver their estates from the forfeiture of treason. 
 Never had so warm a debate shaken the council-board, 
 though nearly all the members were unanimous against 
 the proselyte earls. Some suggested, that since they 
 had come into the king's quarters without leave, they 
 ought to be made prisoners of war. Others as vehe- 
 mently urged that they should be permitted to live 
 within the king's quarters, but not be suffered to come 
 to Oxford, until by some good service they had mani- 
 fested the sincerity of their repentance. A third party 
 thought so much severity impolitic : these proposed 
 that the peers should be suffered to come to Oxford, 
 that thereby they might be kept from returning to the 
 parliament; but that they should neither be allowed 
 to appear at court, nor be visited by any member of 
 the king's council. Wiser — too wise, for the occa- 
 sion — was the unseconded advice of Hyde. "My 
 advice," said that honest counsellor, " is, that they 
 should be very graciously received by both their ma- 
 jesties, and visited and well-treated by every body ; 
 that by their treatment others may be encouraged 
 
 p
 
 210 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 to follow tlieir example. On what disadvantageous 
 ground will the king and his cause stand," he con- 
 tinued, " if, while the parliament is using every effort 
 and every artifice to corrupt the duty and affection of 
 his majesty's subjects, and receiving all with open arms 
 who come to them, he should himself close all returu 
 against those who have been faulty, or have not cotne 
 so soon as they should have done ? If the king were 
 disposed to gratify and oblige his enemies, he could 
 not do it more to their hearts' desire than by rejecting 
 the application of these lords, or allowing it to pass 
 unregarded." 
 
 Charles listened to the debate, without taking any 
 part in it ; but did not conceal his satisfaction, when 
 any expressions of peculiar severity reflected on the 
 Earl of Holland. At the close, he said, he agreed that 
 it would be unwise, at the present juncture, to treat 
 any persons with extreme rigour ; and thereupon gave 
 command, that the governor of Wallingford should 
 permit the lords to prosecute their journey to Oxford. 
 " Wlien here," obseiwed the king, "all of you may 
 visit them, or not, as you please. For myself and the 
 queen, we intend to regulate our behaviour to them by 
 their own conduct." 
 
 From this chillini»- half-measure nothing: but evil 
 followed. Though the royal fiat was wholly unaccom- 
 panied by any sign of favour, it cast a cloud over the 
 hostile council-table. As little satisfactory was it to 
 the converts. The necessity of withdrawing from a 
 party with whom we have been engaged, is in itself 
 humiliating — it reflects self-condemnation on the
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 211 
 
 past : a cold and repulsive welcome among those, 
 from regard to whom, or whose cause, we either do, or 
 flatter ourselves we do, go over to them, at once 
 wounds us with the tooth of ingratitude, opens all the 
 springs of self-reproach, and revives regretful memo- 
 ries of the path we have deserted. The two earls 
 remained some months at the court ; but though 
 they accompanied the king, and fought by his side, in 
 the ensuing campaign, the contemptuous treatment 
 they met with from the courtiers became insupport- 
 able : they therefore seized the first opportunity to 
 return secretly to the parliament. The Earl of Clare, 
 a nobleman of a higher spirit, asked, and obtained 
 permission, to retire into the country for his private 
 affairs: while Northumberland, judging from the bad 
 success of his friends what he might expect at Oxford, 
 again threw the weight of his great fortune and re- 
 spectable character into the opposite scale. 
 
 Jealousy and discontent began to pervade the whole 
 army, and rapidly increased with that decline in the 
 king's affairs, which gave the factious and discontented, 
 on all hands, an opportunity for mutual charges and 
 recriminations. Thus was the ri<>ht hand of the 
 king's power becoming palsied, and his ruin prepared. 
 The army was also exceedingly unpopular. The con- 
 dition of the country was indeed lamentable. Alter- 
 nately exposed, in many places, to the aggressions of 
 the royalist and parliamentarian troops, the harassed 
 people often did not know which masters to obey : only 
 they were sure that whichever party went, or came, 
 those who quitted them would carry away the plun-
 
 212 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 dered wealth of their fields, their stalls, and home- 
 steads ; and that those who succeeded woukl wring 
 from them what remained, perhaps accompanying 
 their acts of rapine with hlows and execrations, on 
 account of having been forestalled. These oppressions 
 were incident to the movements of the armies on both 
 sides, great and small alike. But Rupert's troops were 
 distinguished for license and rapacity ; and, by de- 
 grees, as the authority of Hertford and Hopton gave 
 way before the influence of the two princes, Rupert 
 and Maurice, the evil report which followed them 
 began to attach equally to all the forces of the 
 royalists. 
 
 Nor was the army the only scene of those fac- 
 tions and disorders, which were among the main 
 causes of Charles's overthrow. They divided the 
 council, and shook the mutual confidence of the sove- 
 reign and his consort. Even in the cabinet, the in- 
 temperate suggestions of the royal brothers were too 
 often preferred to the advice of Colepepper, of Falk- 
 land, and of Hyde; and Charles had actually to make a 
 journey from the West to allay the jealous apprehen- 
 sions of Henrietta, that either or both parties would 
 trench upon the right to interfere in public affairs, 
 which she claimed, and which the kino^ was but too 
 much disposed to yield, as legitimately her own. A 
 third party, the mere creatures of the court, every day 
 added to the vexations of the royal pair, by demands 
 of place, honours, and emolument; which the manifest 
 inability of the king and queen, in the present cir- 
 cumstances, to satisfy, had in no degree the effect
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 213 
 
 of relaxing. The vices and the meanness of the mean 
 and vicious followers of a court, are never more ap- 
 parent than in exile, or amid the tumultuous vicis- 
 situdes of a war of parties. 
 
 Two methods of prosecuting the war, with an appa- 
 rent prospect of success, lay open to the king, at the 
 time when he left Bristol with his victorious army. 
 The first was to march directly to London, and fall 
 upon his enemies in their state of dissension and un- 
 preparedness. To lay siege to Gloucester, the only 
 considerable place in the west of England, still held 
 by the forces of the parliament, was the second. 
 Charles would gladly have followed the first, had he 
 found his strength sufficient. On the fall of Bristol, 
 he had written to the victorious Earl of Newcastle, 
 who was then preparing to invest Hull, to leave a 
 sufficient force before that place to block it up, and, 
 with the bulk of his forces, to march through the asso- 
 ciated eastern counties, where no serious obstruction to 
 his progress was to be expected ; and, joining the royal 
 army in its advance from the West, enable the king to 
 follow up that design. Newcastle excused himself, on 
 the plea that many of his officers, being gentlemen 
 whose estates lay in the north, refused to march from 
 their homes with the troops of the enemy in their 
 rear. This pretence was not groundless : the volun- 
 tary nature of the service on either side, often, by 
 desertion or refusal to march, deprived the com- 
 manders of both troops and officers, in moments of 
 the most pressing exigency. But the truth was, that 
 this high-spirited and independent nobleman, having
 
 214 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 the example of the Marquess of Hertford before his 
 eves, was re^solved " to avoid the mortification of 
 receiving orders and perhaps insolence from Rupert." 
 — The king presented himself before Gloucester. 
 
 Arriving, on the tenth of August, he sent two 
 heralds to the town with a summons, requiring it to 
 receive a governor and garrison of his appointing. 
 Charles demanded a positive answer before the expir- 
 ation of two hours. Within that space, two citizens, 
 Pudsey, a serjeant-major in the garrison, and another, 
 returned with the king's heralds, bringing the answer 
 of Massey, its determined governor. The noble histo- 
 rian makes himself merry with the figures of this 
 worthy pair of Presbyterian burghers, and the effect 
 which their appearance produced upon the excitable 
 cavaliers. Expressing defiance in every angle of their 
 harsh, lean visages, their gestures, and even their garb, 
 they " at once," he says, " made the most severe coun- 
 tenances merry, and the most cheerful hearts sad. 
 The men, without any circumstance of duty or good 
 manners, in a pert, shrill, undismayed accent, said, 
 ' We have brought an answer from the godly city of 
 Gloucester to the king : ' " in short, they conducted 
 themselves with a kind of insolence so peculiar, that 
 they seemed as if their orders had been chiefly to pro- 
 voke him to violate his own safe- conduct. The an- 
 swer they brought was in writing, and in these words : 
 '' We the inhabitants, magistrates, officers, and sol- 
 diers, within this garrison of Gloucester, unto his ma- 
 jesty's gracious message return this humble answer : 
 That we do keep this city, according to our oaths and
 
 THE GRISTS OF THE ■WAR. 215 
 
 allegiance, to and for the use of his majesty and his 
 royal posterity ; and do accordingly conceive ourselves 
 wholly bound to obey the commands of his majesty, 
 signified by both houses of parliament ; and are re- 
 solved, by God's help, to keep this city accordingly : " 
 an answer which, though, like all such documents on 
 the side of the parliament, couched in odiously hypo- 
 critical terms, wronging and insulting the king to his 
 face, under a shovr of duty, — was yet a brave defiance, 
 from a garrison of 1400 men, a great proportion of 
 them raw militia, almost destitute of ordnance and 
 ammunition, and occupying a vast compass of ill- 
 constructed lines, to send to the commander of a 
 jjowerful army, flushed with the insolence of recent 
 victory. Charles received it without any expression of 
 displeasure, yet with manifest wonder. " Gentlemen," 
 he asked, '' on what hope of relief does your confidence 
 rest ? Waller is extinct, and Essex cannot come." 
 He at once dismissed them ; and had hardly seen the 
 gates close on those uncouth visitors of a king, when 
 the large and well-built suburbs of the city were ob- 
 served to be on fire ; and some cannon, placed over the 
 west gate, being discharged upon a body of horse, which 
 had been drawn up on that side, Avithin range of shot, 
 forced them to retire. The king's army immediately 
 set about their entrenchments. Thus, a respite from 
 immediate attack was granted to the parties in London ; 
 which was all they were now in need of; for there, 
 whatever had caused the change, all slackness^ if not 
 all dissension, was at an end ; and, starting from a 
 state of inactivity and despondence, they at once rose to
 
 216 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 a point of energetic unanimity which they never after- 
 wards abandoned. 
 
 Essex undertook to raise the siege of Gloucester. 
 On the 24th of August, to the astonishment of the par- 
 ties themselves, he was able, in the presence of many 
 members of both houses of parliament, to muster an 
 army of 10,000 men, at Hounslow; and, being joined, at 
 Aylesbury, by several regiments of trained bands from 
 the City, some troops of horse, and a train of artillery, 
 he, finally, marched for Gloucester on the 29th. The 
 king's horse amounted to no less than 8000 men ; but 
 as no person in his camp would believe, that the ex- 
 presses, forwarded to London by Massey, could really 
 put an army in motion for his relief, the enemy was 
 allowed to march a distance of thirty miles, through 
 an open country, admirably suited to the evolutions of 
 cavalry, without any other annoyance than some skir- 
 mishing with a few light troops. On the 5th day of 
 September, when the siege had lasted just twenty-six 
 days, the thunder of the parliamentarian cannon, from 
 Presbury Hills, put an end to all doubt by announcing 
 Essex's arrival. Scarcely could the besieged have held 
 out a few hours longer. When, therefore, Charles 
 had received certain information of the lord-general's 
 approach, he attempted, by sending a herald with pro- 
 positions of peace, to delay his march, at least for 
 that space. The earl replied, that he had no com- 
 mission to treat, but to relieve the beleaguered city ; 
 and relieve it, he added, he would, or perish in the 
 attempt. The purport of the heiald's visit being known 
 through the ranks, the soldiers saluted him, as he passed
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 217 
 
 along, on his return, with cries of " No propositions! 
 No propositions !" Essex presently after discovered the 
 huts on fire in the king's cau?p. Charles had retired, 
 in haste and some confusion, intending to dispute his 
 enemy's return. That day, the besieged had set apart 
 for a public fast ; but on Essex's entering the city, 
 it was turned to a day of ardent rejoicing. The most 
 passionate expressions of gratitude to their deliverer 
 were mingled with solemn thanksgiving to God, by 
 whose special providence they believed that relief to 
 have been sent. The earl, in return, acknowledged 
 the signal service rendered to the cause of the parlia- 
 ment by the heroic defence of Gloucester. During the 
 twenty -eight days, that the siege lasted, several 
 brave sallies had been made, in which the garrison 
 took a great number of prisoners, and slew many of 
 their assailants. They were reduced at last to two or 
 three barrels of powder, and had no provisions of any 
 kind remaining. Essex brought supplies into the town, 
 remained two days to refresh his troops, and then 
 marched out, intending to manoeuvre his way back 
 to London, without risking a battle. 
 
 With the view of dividing the king's forces, he 
 made demonstrations as if he had intended to proceed 
 northward to Worcester ; but, changing his route on 
 a sudden, marched to Tewkesbury ; from whence, with 
 the advantage of a dark night, he reached Cirencester. 
 Arriving there before daybreak, he surprised a convoy 
 of provisions, intended for the royalist army before 
 Gloucester, and made prisoners about 400 of the king's 
 troopS; raw levies, who had the charge of it ; most of
 
 218 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 whom were taken in their beds, and their horses feed- 
 ing in the stables. At the foot of the Auburn Hills, 
 as the army was passing* through that deep, enclosed 
 country towards Xewbury, Rupert came suddenly upon 
 the rear-guard, and routed them, forcing them to retire 
 in sreat disorder to the main armv. Here thev formed 
 aoain ; but were a second time attacked : and now the 
 skirmish became fierce and general, continuing with 
 great slaughter till the parliamentarians took shelter 
 in Hungerford. 
 
 At length, the next day, the earl came within sight 
 of Newbury ; but found, to his surprise, that the king 
 had already been there two hours, and was prepared 
 to dispute his farther passage. The royalist army was 
 advantageously posted: it had possession of the town, 
 and the adjoining hill called Bigg's Hill ; Wallingford 
 was at hand, and Oxford itself within a convenient 
 distance for the supply of whatever reinforcements 
 should be wanting. Charles sent a formal challenge 
 to his adversary, which Essex had no alternative but 
 to accept. Robert Codiington, a parliamentary officer, 
 has left a narrative of this memorable fight ; which, 
 though greatly superior, in clearness and force, to the 
 usual flat and confused accounts, and though printed 
 in so common a book as the Harleian Miscellany, 
 seems to have escaped the notice of historians, until 
 recently quoted by ]Mr. Forster, in his Life of Crom- 
 well, from, the original tract. The partiality of this 
 narrative we may readily excuse, for the sake of its 
 beauty and general faithfulness. 
 
 "All that night," says Codrington, who was evi-
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 219 
 
 dently an eye-witness, " our army lay in the fields, 
 impatient of the sloth of darkness, and wishing for 
 the morning's light, to exercise their valour ; and the 
 rather, because the king had sent a challenge over- 
 night to the lord-general, to give him battle the next 
 morning. A great part of the enemy's army con- 
 tinued also in the field, incapable of sleep, their enemy 
 being so nigh ; and, sometimes looking on the ground, 
 they thought upon the melancholy element of which 
 they were composed, and to which they must return ; 
 and sometimes looking up, they observed the silent 
 marches of the stars, and the moving scene of heaven. 
 The day no sooner appeared but they were marshalled 
 into order, and advanced to the brow of the hill ; 
 and not long after, the ordnance was planted, and the 
 whole body of their horse and foot stood in battalia. 
 The officers and commanders of their foot, many of 
 them, left off their doublets, and, with daring reso- 
 lution, brought on their men ; and, as if they came 
 rather to triumph than to fight, they, in their shirts, 
 did lead them up to the battle. The first that gave 
 the charge, was the most noble Lord Roberts, whose 
 actions speak him higher than our epithets. He per- 
 formed it with great resolution ; and, by his own ex- 
 ample, shewed excellent demonstrations of valour to 
 his regiment. The cavalry of the enemy performed 
 also their charge most bravely, and gave in with a 
 mighty impression upon him. A prepared body of our 
 armv made haste to relieve him. Upon this, two 
 regiments of the king's horse, with a fierce charge, 
 saluted the blue regiment of the London trained bands,
 
 220 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 who sallantlv discharged upon them, and did beat 
 them back : but they, being no whit daunted at it, 
 wheeled about, and on a sudden charged them : our 
 musketeers did again discharge, and that with so much 
 violence and success, that they sent them now, not 
 wheeling, but reeling from them ; and yet, for ail 
 that, they made a third assault, and coming in full 
 squadrons, thev did the utmost of their endearours 
 to break thron^h their ranks : but a cloud of bullets 
 came at once so thick from our muskets, and made 
 such havoc amongst them, both of men and horse, 
 that, in a fear, fall of confused speed, they did fly 
 before us, and did no more adventure upon so warm 
 a service. 
 
 " In the meantime, Sir Philip Stapleton performed 
 excellent service with the lord-generals regiment of 
 horse, and five times tozsther did charge the enemv : 
 bat, above all, the renown and glory of this day is 
 most justly dae unto the resolution and conduct of our 
 general ; for, before the battle was begun, he did ride 
 from one regiment to another, and did inflame them 
 with courage, and perceiving in them all an eager 
 desire to battle with their enemies, he collected to 
 himself a sure presage of victory to come. 1 have 
 heard, that when, in the heat and tempest of the fight, 
 some friends of his did advise him to leave ofi" his white 
 hat, because it rendered him an object too remarkable 
 to the enemy, ' ^o,' replied the earl, ' it is not the hat, 
 but the heart ; the hat is not capable either of fear 
 or honour.' He, himself, being foremost in person, did 
 lead op the city regiment, and when a vast body of the
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 221 
 
 enemy's horse had given so violent a charge, that they 
 had broken quite through it, he quickly rallied his 
 men together, and, with undaanted courage, did lead 
 thera up the hill. In his way he did beat the infantry 
 of the king from hedge to hedge, and did so scatter 
 them, that hardly any of the foot appeared to keep to- 
 irether in a bodv. After six hours' lonor fio-ht, with 
 the assistance of his horse, he gained those advantages 
 which the enemy possessed in the morning, which were 
 the hill, the hedges, and the river. In the meantime, 
 a party of the enemy's horse, in a great body, wheeled 
 about, and about three-quarters of a mile below the 
 hill, they did fall upon the rear of our army, where oar 
 carriages were placed. To relieve which, his excel- 
 lency sent a selected party from the hill to assist their 
 friends, who were deeply engaged in the fight. These 
 forces, marchins: down the hilL did meet a resriment 
 of horse of the enemy's, who in their hats had 
 branches of frirze and broom, which our army did that 
 dav wear, for distinction sake, to be known bv one 
 another from their adversaries, and they cried out to 
 our men, 'Friends, friends;' but, they beins: dis- 
 covered to be enemies, our men gave fire upon them, 
 and having some horse to second the execution, they 
 did force them farther from them : our men being now 
 marched to the bottom of the hill, they increased the 
 courage of their friends, and, after a sharp conflict, 
 they forced the king's horse to fly with remarkable 
 loss, having left the ground strewed with the carcasses 
 of their horses and riders. 
 
 " His excellency, having now planted his ordnance
 
 222 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 on the top of the hill, did thunder against the enemy ; 
 where he found their numbers to be thickest ; and the 
 king's ordnance, being yet on the same hill, did play 
 with the like fury against the forces of his excellency : 
 the cannon on each side did dispute with one another, 
 as if the battle was but new begun. The trained bands 
 of the City of London endured the chiefest heat of the 
 day, and had the honour to win it ; for being now upon 
 the brow of the hill, they lay not only open to the 
 horse, but the cannon of the enemy ; yet they stood 
 undaunted, and conquerors against all ; and like a 
 grove of pines in a day of wind and tempest, they only 
 moved their heads or arms, but kept their foot sure, 
 unless, by an improvement of honour, they advanced 
 forward to pui'sue their advantage on their enemies. 
 
 " Although the night did now draw on, yet neither 
 of the armies did draw of}': the enemy's horse, in a 
 great body, did stand on the farthest side of the hill, 
 and the broken remainders of their foot behind them, 
 and having made some pillage about the middle of 
 the night, ihey drew off their ordnance, and retreated 
 unto Newbury : on the next morning, his excellency, 
 being absolute master of the field, did marshal again 
 his soldiers into order to receive the enemy, if he had 
 any stomach in the field, and to that purpose dis- 
 charged a piece of ordnance, but, no enemy appearing, 
 he marched towards Reading." 
 
 The battle of Newbury, like that of Edge-hill, was 
 followed by no decided results. It was fought, says 
 Clarendon, all day, without any such notable turn, 
 as that either party could think they had much the
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 223 
 
 better : the night parted them, when nothing else 
 could. The parliamentarians, indeed, loudly claimed 
 the victory ; and not without reason ; since the king's 
 army suffered them, with the morning light, to take 
 quiet possession of the town, and to march forward, 
 unmolested, towards London. Technically considered, 
 it appears, there were errors and oversights on both 
 sides in the conduct of this great encounter ; but it 
 was marked throughout by those nobler characteristics 
 than mere calculating skill, which distinguished the 
 whole course of this fatal war — undaunted bravery 
 and inflexible resolution. Rupert's charges were 
 never more fierce or frequent, — never had they been 
 so admirably sustained. Upon the immovable ram- 
 part presented by the pikes of the London trained 
 bands, again and again the stormy valour of his 
 choicest cavaliers broke in vain. Those regiments, 
 " of whose inexperience of danger, or any kind of ser- 
 vice beyond the easy practice of their postures in the 
 Artillery Garden, men had till then too cheap an esti- 
 mation, behaved themselves to wonder; and were, in 
 truth, the preservation of the army of the parliament 
 that day." 
 
 In this sanguinary field, "according to the unequal 
 fate that attended all conflicts with such an adversary," 
 the loss of known and distinguished individuals was 
 chiefly on the king's side; " for whilst some obscure, 
 unheard-of colonel or offieer was missing from the 
 ranks of the parliament, and some citizen's wife be- 
 wailed the death of her husband, there were, on the 
 king's side, above twenty field-officers, and persons of
 
 224 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 rank and public name, slain upon the spot, and more 
 of the same quality wounded." 
 
 Three noblemen of high rank and estimable cha- 
 racter were of the number. The young Earl of Sun- 
 derland was struck down by a cannon bullet. The 
 brave and enlightened Earl of Carnarvon, on his return 
 from a victorious charge of a body of the enemy's 
 horse, passing carelessly among some of the scattered 
 troopers, was, by one of them, who recognised him, 
 run through the body. But the loss most deeply and 
 generally deplored was that of Lord Falkland, — " a loss 
 which no time will suffer to be forgotten, and no suc- 
 cess of good fortune could repair." So wrote the affec- 
 tionate and eloquent Clarendon, in the commencement 
 of that eulogium, which will be read with delight as 
 long as friendship exists, and excellence excites admi- 
 ration. He was " a person," continues the noble his- 
 torian, " of such prodigious parts of learning and 
 knowledge, of that inimitable sweetness and delight in 
 conversation, of so flowing and obliging a humanity 
 and goodness to mankind, and of that primitive sim- 
 plicity and integrity of life, that if there were no other 
 brand upon this odious and accursed civil war than 
 that single loss, it must be most infamous and exe- 
 crable to all posterity. He was a great cherisher of 
 wit, and fancy, and good parts, in any man ; and, if 
 he found them clouded with poverty or want, a most 
 liberal and bountiful patron towards them, even above 
 his fortune . . . His house being- within little more 
 than ten miles of Oxford, he contracted familiarity and 
 friendship with the most polite and accurate men of
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 225 
 
 that University ; who found such an immenseness of 
 wit, and such a solidity of judgment, in him ; so infinite 
 a fancy bound in by a most logical ratiocination ; such a 
 vast knowledge, that he was not ignorant of any thing, 
 yet such an excessive humility, as if he had known 
 nothing ; that they frequently resorted and dwelt with 
 him, as in a college situated in a purer air : so that his 
 house was a university in a less volume, whither they 
 came not so much for rejoose as study, and to examine 
 and refine those grosser propositions which laziness 
 and content made current in vulgar conversation . . . 
 He was guilty of no other ambition than of knowledge, 
 and to be reputed a lover of all good men. He was so 
 jealous of the least imagination that he should incline 
 to preferment, that he affected even a moroseness to 
 the court and to the courtiers. And if any thing but 
 not doing his duty could have kept him from receiving 
 a testimony of the king's grace, he had not been called 
 to his council. Not that he was, in truth, averse from 
 public employment ; for he had a great devotion to the 
 king's person ; but he abhorred that an imagination or 
 doubt should sink into the thoughts of any man, that 
 in the discharge of his trust and duty in parliament 
 he had any bias to the court, or that the king himself 
 should apprehend that he looked for a reward for 
 being honest . . . For as he had a full appetite of fame 
 by just and generous actions, so he had an equal con- 
 tempt of it by any servile expedients . . . For these 
 reasons he submitted to the king's command, and be- 
 came his secretary, with as humble and devoted an 
 acknowledgment of the greatness of the obligation, as 
 
 Q
 
 226 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 could be expressed, and as true a sense of it in his 
 heart . . . He had a courage of the most clear and 
 keen temper ; and therefore upon any occasion of 
 action, he always engaged his person in those troops 
 which he thought, by the forwardness of the com- 
 manders, to be most likely to be farthest engaged ; 
 and in all such encounters he had about him an extra- 
 ordinary cheerfulness, without at all affecting the exe- 
 cution that usually attended them, in which he took 
 no delight, but took pains to prevent it, where it was 
 not, by re!^istance, made necessary : insomuch that at 
 Edge-hill, when the enemy was routed, he was like to 
 have incurred great peril, by interposing to save those 
 who had thrown away their arms ; so that a man might 
 think he came into the field chiefly out of curiosity to 
 see the face of danger, and charity to prevent the shed- 
 ding of blood. Yet in his natural inclination he was 
 addicted to the profession of a soldier. 
 
 " From the first entrance into this unnatural war, 
 his natural cheerfulness and vivacity grew clouded, and 
 a kind of sadness and dejection of spirit stole upon iiim, 
 which he had never been used to ; yet being one of 
 those who believed that one battle would end all differ- 
 ences, and that there would be so great a victory on 
 one side, that the other would be compelled to submit 
 to any conditions from the victor, he resisted those 
 indispositions. But after the king's return from Brent- 
 ford, and the furious resolution of the two houses 
 not to admit any treaty for peace, those indispositions, 
 which had before touched him, grew into a perfect 
 habit of uncheerfulness ; and he, who had been so
 
 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR, 227 
 
 exactly easy and affable to all men, and held any 
 cloudiness and less pleasantness of visage a kind of 
 rudeness and incivility, became on a sudden less com- 
 municable ; and thence very sad, pale, and exceed- 
 ingly affected with spleen. When there was any over- 
 ture or hope of peace, he would be more erect and 
 vigorous, and exceedingly solicitous to press any thing 
 wbich he thought might promote it; and sitting among 
 his friends, often, after a deep silence and frequent 
 sighs, would, with a sh-rill and sad accent, ingeminate 
 the word ' Peace ! Peace ! ' and would passionately 
 profess, that the view of the calamities and desolation 
 the kingdom did and must endure, took his sleep from 
 him, and would shoi'tly break his heart. This made 
 some think, or pretend to think, that he was so much 
 enamoured of peace, that he would have been glad the 
 king should have bought it at any price ; which was 
 a most unreasonable calumny : as if a man that was 
 himself the most punctual and precise in every cir- 
 cumstance that might reflect upon conscience or honour, 
 could have wished the king to have committed a tres- 
 pass against either. And yet this scandal made some 
 impression upon him, or at least he used it for an 
 excuse of the daringness of his spirit. For, at the 
 leaguer before Gloucester, when his friends passion- 
 ately reprehended him for exposing his person un- 
 necessarily to danger (for he delighted to visit the 
 trenches and nearest approaches, to discover what the 
 enemy did), as being so much beside the duty of 
 his place, that it might be understood rather to be 
 against it, he would say merrily, that his office could
 
 228 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 not take away the privilege of his age ; and that a 
 secretary in war might be present at the greatest secret 
 of danger ; but withal alleged seriously, that it con- 
 cerned him to be more active in enterprises of hazard 
 than other men ; that all might see that his impatience 
 for peace proceeded not from pusillanimity, or fear to 
 adventui-e his own person." 
 
 The noble historian pours out " his love and grief," 
 at still greater length, on the death of his admired 
 friend, both in his great work, and in the memoirs of 
 his own life ; but we can afford room only for one 
 characteristic anecdote. " He was so ill a dissembler 
 of his dislike and disinclination to ill men," relates 
 Clarendon, " that it was not possible for such not 
 to discern it. There was once, in the house of Com- 
 mons, such a declared acceptation of the good service 
 an eminent member had done to them, and, as 
 they said, to the whole kingdom, that it was moved, 
 he being present, ' that the speaker might, in the 
 name of the whole house, give him thanks ; and 
 then, that every member might, as a testimony of 
 his particular acknowledgment, stir or move his hat 
 towards him;' the which (though not ordered), when 
 very many did, the Lord Falkland (who believed 
 the service itself not to be of that moment, and 
 that an honourable and generous person could not 
 have stooped to it for any recompense), instead of 
 moving his hat, stretched both his arms out, and 
 clasped his hands together upon the crown of his 
 hat, and held it close down to his head ; that all men 
 might see, how odious that flattery was to him, and
 
 THE GRISTS OF THE WAR. 229 
 
 the very approbation of the person, though at that 
 time most popular." 
 
 Other contemporary writers concur, though in more 
 condensed language, in the eulogium of Falkland, and 
 confirm Clarendon's account of the circumstances which 
 attended his death. On the morning of the fight, we 
 are told, by Whitelocke and Rushworth, he dressed 
 himself with a degree of nicety, which, though for- 
 merly habitual to him, had, since his period of gloom, 
 given way to negligence ; telling his friends, with an 
 air of gaiety, that if he were slain in battle they should 
 not find his body in foul linen. In answer to their 
 earnest and atfectionate entreaties to take no part in 
 the fight, as not being a military man, he replied, 
 while returning sadness again overspread his expres- 
 sive countenance, that he was weary of looking upon 
 his country's misery, " and did believe he should be 
 out of it ere night." He then put himself into the first 
 rank of the Lord Byron's regiment; and, advancing 
 upon the enemy, who had lined the hedges on both 
 sides with musketeers, presently received a shot from 
 a musket, and fell from his horse to the ground, 
 where his body lay undiscovered till the next morning. 
 " Thus," concludes Clarendon, " fell that incomparable 
 young man, in the four-and-thirtieth year of his age ; 
 having so much despatched the true business of life, 
 that the eldest rarely attain to that immense know- 
 ledge, and the youngest enter not into the world with 
 more innocency : whosoever leads such a life, needs 
 be the less anxious upon how short warning it is 
 taken from him."
 
 230 THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 
 
 The Earl of Essex pursued his march towards 
 Reading, unmolested by the king's army, until he 
 entered an enclosed country, within a few miles of 
 that place ; when Rupert, with a strong party of horse 
 and musketeers, fell upon his rear, and threw them 
 into great disorder, killing many, and taking many 
 prisoners. At Reading, a committee of the Lords and 
 Commons met their victorious general, to congratulate 
 him on the great service he had done the parliament, 
 and to learn the wants of his army, with an assurance 
 that they should be all forthwith supplied. He then 
 moved forward towards the capital, leaving Reading to 
 be occupied by a garrison of royalists. In Londv^n, a 
 form of solemn thanksgiving was appointed ; the day 
 after his arrival, the earl received a visit of thanks 
 from the speaker and the whole house of Commons ; 
 the City rang with notes of triumph ; all thoughts of 
 peace were banished ; and the mutual jealousies which 
 had long existed between his excellency and Waller 
 were reconciled, by the politic submission of Sir 
 William to his placable and triumphant rival. King 
 Charles, meantime, and his nephew, retired with their 
 army to Oxford, more dispirited than, in reality, the 
 events of the campaign of 1643 appeared to warrant.
 
 CHAPTER Xlll. 
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 Though the most prominent actors in that great 
 national tragedy, the eventful progress of which we 
 have so far sketched, were, with one exception, only 
 statesmen and soldiers ; yet the conflict which engaged 
 their energies, was, in reality, a religious conflict. "The 
 quarrel," observed a contemporary writer, " dependeth 
 only and absolutely between the Papists and the Pro- 
 testants (he meant, between the Church and the Puri- 
 tans) ; for either must the gospel prevail with us, or 
 else their idolatry will overtrample all." Hence, those 
 measures which tended to the entire destruction of the 
 Church of England kept pace with the growth of the 
 parliamentary power, in the houses of Lords and Com- 
 mons, and in the field. 
 
 It was no more than common gratitude, on the 
 part of the parliament, to compliment Prynne and his 
 compeers with an oration, and to rew'ard them with a 
 share of the fines imposed on the Star Chamber judges; 
 since (if we except the indiscretion of the bishops them- 
 selves) the first serious mischief to the church came from 
 the hand of that indefatigable libeller. Assaults, in-
 
 232 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 deed, more formidable followed, from the press and the 
 pulpit, before the loosened fabric was ready for the 
 finishing stroke of the parliamentary levellers. " The 
 Histrio-Mastix," and " Sion's Plea against Prelacy," 
 were succeeded by the famous " Smectymnaus," which 
 Calamy, one of its writers, asserted to have been the 
 first deadly blow to episcopacy ; and again, the con- 
 troversy opened by " Smectymnuus " drew forth Mil- 
 ton, in his least admirable character, as a religious 
 partisan, with such terrible effect, that a writer, well 
 acquainted with the controversies of that age, avers his 
 belief, that " the great talents, the learning, the blame- 
 less lives, the powerful arguments, of Usher and Hall 
 would have preserved the church, if Milton had not 
 descended, with all his overwhelming might, of learn- 
 ing, eloquence, and scorn, into the contest." Pre- 
 sently, the prelates' benches were exposed, naked, to 
 the mockery of the people ; the bishops themselves, 
 fined and imprisoned for an act of fatuity, by party 
 exaggeration absurdly called treason, were dismissed 
 unheeded to obscurity and want. By this time, seques- 
 tration, fine, and imprisonment, had, in like manner, 
 cleared the pulpits of London and the other large 
 towns, of" malignant ministers;" and had made way 
 for preachers of a difierent temper, who, not alone 
 silently submissive to the will of their patrons, were 
 prepared on all occasions to sound, on their behalf, in 
 the popular ear, the trumpet of alarm and agitation. 
 
 From removing those persons out of sacred offices 
 who had obstructed the march of the new reformation, 
 it was a natural step to proceed to sweep away also such
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 233 
 
 holy things, likewise, as had been discovered to be offen- 
 sive. In the month of August, 1643, the Lords at length 
 concurred in the Commons' ordinance *'for demolishinof 
 and taking away all monuments of idolatry and super- 
 stition." The beautiful crosses at Cheapside and Char- 
 ing Cross were among the earliest objects which fell 
 a prey to this Gothic enactment. The cross at Cheap, 
 commonly known, on account of its magnificence, by 
 the name of " the Golden Cross," was the first to 
 perish. First of all, the images were broken down ; 
 " the sequel day," we are told, the whole was rased 
 to the ground. " It was a monumental ornament," 
 writes an eye-witness, a Scotch Covenanter — one not 
 likely, therefore, to own excessive sympathy in such a 
 case — " worthy of a royal city, and the beautiful ob- 
 ject of admiration to all beholders and strangers. The 
 third day thereafter," he continues, " they caused to 
 take down all the new and old crosses on churches and 
 steeple-tops." The next step began that war upon 
 the cathedrals, which was revived, from time to time, 
 through succeeding years ; until, at length, in a mo- 
 ment of panic terror, lest extinct episcopacy should 
 once more lift its head, the entire demolition of those 
 sublime monuments of the nation's ancient piety was 
 gravely recommended, in a committee, upon the pru- 
 dential maxim, that " if you tear down the nests, the 
 birds will be sure not to return." The noblest eccle- 
 siastical structures were plundered and defaced. Aided 
 by the rabble, who always regard with a feeling of hos- 
 tile superstition those prodigious edifices, whose mng- 
 nificence amazes, and whose grandeur awes, them ; and
 
 234 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 by the soldiery, whose habits of indiscriminate ravage 
 were exasperated by puritan animosity ; the coarse zea- 
 lots, to whom the work of destruction was intrusted, 
 set about their task in delighted earnest. Cromwell, 
 at Peterborough, " in pursuance of the thorough 
 reformation," set the example of desecrating the 
 cathedrals. At Canterbury, the soldiers and people 
 overthrew the communion-table, tore the velvet cover- 
 ing, violated the monuments of the dead, broke down 
 " the rarest windows in Christendom," destroyed the 
 organ, the ancient wood-work, and the brazen eagle 
 which supported the Bible ; tore up, or took away, the 
 service-books and vestments, and strewed the pave- 
 ment with fragments. Observing, in the arras hang- 
 ings of the choir, some figures of the Saviour, they 
 drew their daggers, and, with many oaths and execra- 
 tions, pierced them through and through. A statue of 
 the same Divine Person, in a niche of the exterior, was 
 exposed to similar outrage. They discharged their 
 muskets at it, " triumphing much " when the shots 
 took effect upon the head and face of the figure. Still 
 worse enormities are reported to have occurred, during 
 the occupation of Lichfield by the profligate followers 
 of Sir John Gell. The carvings, the rich windows^ the 
 curious pavement, the costly tombs, the records belong- 
 ing to the Close and city, were all destroyed or muti- 
 lated. The governor set the example of spoliation 
 by appropriating to himself the coinmunion-plate and 
 linen. The soldiers kept courts of guard in the aisles, 
 and made the lofty roofs echo to their lewd revelry. 
 Tlif pidpit was occupied, from tiu)e to time, by various
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 235 
 
 fanatical preachers who encouraged these acts of pro- 
 fanation. Here, as well as, among other places, at 
 Sudley, they estahlished a slaughter-house within the 
 consecrated building, and cut up the carcasses upon 
 the altar. At Sudley, they threw the offal into the 
 burial vault of the noble family of Chandos. St. 
 Paul's was converted, into a stable for the cavalry 
 horses. In several churches, they brought calves, 
 swine, and other animals to the fonts ; where they 
 sprinkled them with water, and named them, in 
 derision of the holy sacrament of baptism. At West- 
 minster, under the very eyes of the parliament, the 
 soldiers sat drinking and smoking at the altar, lived 
 in the abbey, and converted its sacred precincts to the 
 vilest uses. In the chapel at Lambeth, Parker's monu- 
 ment was thrown down, the remains of the prelate 
 buried in a dunghill, and tlie leaden coffin which 
 enclosed them sold. 
 
 Though it be true that of these, and the num- 
 berless other enormities of the same kind recorded, 
 some were merely the natural outbursts of vulgar 
 wantonness, in a period of reaction and excitement, 
 for which the governing powers ought not to be 
 held responsible ; yet the same excuse cannot be 
 alleged in regard to others. Can the warmest friends 
 of freedom, political or religious, defend that course 
 of cruel " statesmanship," to which all nobler princi- 
 ples were sacrificed, in the case of the unhappy but 
 courageous Laud? Besides the fines imposed upon 
 the archbishop, as one of the judges of Prynne and 
 his fellows, he was fined 20,000/. for his share in
 
 236 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 the proceedings of the convocation of 1640. If we are 
 without proof that this enormous mulct was ever paid, 
 the reason is, because before it could be levied other 
 means were found to deprive the imprisoned primate 
 of all he had. Some months after his palace had 
 been converted into a prison for delinquents, over 
 whom, to render the insult more galling, Leighton, 
 one of the victims of Star Chamber severity, was ap- 
 pointed keeper, there was presented to the house of 
 Lords the following " humble petition of William, Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, shewing : That he hath neither 
 lands, lease, nor money; that the small store of plate 
 he had is long since melted down for his necessary 
 support and expenses, caused by his present troubles ; 
 that his rents and profits are sequestered, and now all 
 his goods taken from him, and no maintenance at all 
 allowed him ; insomuch that if some friends of his 
 had not had compassion on his wants, and sent him 
 some little supply, he had not been able to subsist till 
 this present ; and now this supply is at the last. He 
 humbly prays that your lordships would take his sad 
 condition into your considerations, that somewhat may 
 be allowed him out of his estate to supply the ne- 
 cessities of life ; assuring himself that your lordships 
 will not, in honour and justice, suffer him either to 
 beg or starve." At the reading of this affecting ap- 
 peal, the Lords appear to have been touched with 
 some feelings of compassion. They resolved to allow 
 their veiieraljle prisoner and former compeer some- 
 thing, for charity, to supjjly his wants ; they even 
 recommended his petition to the consideration of the
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 237 
 
 other liouse. The Commons replied, that they would 
 send an answer by messengers of their own ; " but," 
 remarks the parliamentary historian, " we hear no 
 more of it from that quarter." We hear, some time 
 after, of very different measures. Two members of 
 the Commons' house went over to Lambeth, with a 
 file of musketeers, to search for treasure. A sum 
 amounting to 78Z. was discovered, and taken away 
 " for the maintenance of the king's children : " " God, 
 in his mercy," said the primate, "look favourably 
 upon the king, and bless his children from needing 
 any such poor maintenance ! " A previous search had 
 been made for arms ; it having been reported, that 
 the archbishop had provided himself with arms suffi- 
 cient for 2000 men. The messengers remained long 
 in the palace ; examined every room ; and when at 
 length they withdrew, paraded through the streets, 
 amid shouts of popular execration, a quantity suffi- 
 cient for about 200 ; the whole of which had passed 
 into Laud's possession by purchase from his puritanical 
 predecessor. Abbot. 
 
 Nor did the walls of the Tower protect the gray- 
 haired primate from personal insult. The preachers 
 appointed to officiate before him, of whom one was 
 captain of a troop of horse, as well as the incumbent 
 of a parish, and who appeared in the pulpit in his 
 buff coat and scaif, under his gown, — made their 
 sermons the vehicles of such unseemly invective against 
 him, that the congregation would rise up in their seats 
 to observe whether he could endure their taunts with 
 patience. His imprisonment had already continued
 
 238 THE CHURCH IN DKSOLATION, 
 
 between two and three years, when the house of 
 Commons at length resolved to proceed with the im- 
 peachment. In order to strengthen as much as pos- 
 sible the evidence against him, it was determined to 
 seize his private papers and memorandums. The 
 person employed for this purpose Avas his implacable 
 enemy, Prynne. It was unfortunate for his own repu- 
 tation, as well as for the poor, defenceless archbishop, 
 when the natural sense of injury in the bosom of that 
 individual was put to so severe a test. Prynne burst 
 upon his present victim and former prosecutor, before 
 the infirm prelate had left his bed; and proceeded, with 
 ruffian insolence, to search the pockets of his apparel. 
 He carried off all the papei's which Laud had prepared 
 for his defence, including his diary, and his book of 
 private devotions; although the archbishop pleaded 
 hard for the sacredness, at all events, of the last. 
 Terrible things, the Presbyterian pulpit announced, 
 had been brought to light in this search. An ordi- 
 nance was now passed for the perpetual sequestration 
 of all the temporalities of the see of Canterbury, and 
 for transferring the patronage to the parliament. It 
 is worthy of remark, that the final determination to 
 proceed with this " interrupted sacrifice," coincided 
 with the vote for the embassy to Scotland : it had 
 become necessary, observes a republican writer, to 
 do something effectual for the encouragement of the 
 Scots. 
 
 That nation was, from the beginning of the unhappy 
 disputes in the south, sufficiently alive to the important 
 influence upon the fate of England which circumstances,
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 239 
 
 or treachery, had thrown into their hands. Far were 
 they from being really indifferent, though they might 
 affect to be so, to the applications which had been 
 made to them by the parliament, for sympathy and 
 aid. Hitherto the messages of their English friends had 
 contained none of those explicit propositions in favour 
 of the ecclesiastical polity of Scotland, which they had 
 expected. When, however, the committee of parlia- 
 ment arrived, with full power to satisfy them on this 
 as well as on all other points, that coyness, by which 
 the leaders in England had been so much disconcerted, 
 vanished at once. The convention of estates, and the 
 assembly of the kirk, to either or both of whom Vane 
 and his colleagues were instructed to address them- 
 selves, had been long ready to receive their proposals. 
 The arrival of the committee was celebrated as a 
 triumph ; and their credentials, in separate letters, 
 to the convention and the assembly, were read with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 Vane's subtility was not confined to his mystic 
 theological treatises. The agent of an independent 
 faction, and himself more extravagant and inflexible 
 in his religious views than his associates, yet aware 
 that the Scots, on the other hand, though eager to do 
 all that could be required of them, on condition of 
 being allowed to impose their system of church dis- 
 cipline on England, would on no other condition be 
 induced to move, — this statesman, so much vaunted 
 for his purity and loftiness of mind, determined by 
 bare finesse to surmount all difficulties. He insisted 
 that the engagement, which was to cement the two
 
 240 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 nations in bonds of brotherhood and religion, should 
 not, like the previous national vows of the Scots 
 among themselves, be termed a covenant merely, 
 but a "solemn league and covenant;" for the ulte- 
 rior objects of the party required that it might be 
 broken, whenever its violation should be found con- 
 venient ; which a league might be, but not a mere 
 covenant. Again, in the famous article which pro- 
 vided for the security of the Kirk in Scotland, 
 and for the reformation of the Church of England 
 on the same model, after the following words, as 
 originally proposed by the Scots, " according to the 
 example of the best reformed churches " (by which 
 they intended their own), he procured the insertion 
 of the clause, " and according to the word of God," 
 thereby oj^ening a retreat for the Independents. With 
 these, and some other amendments of the same kind, 
 this memorable instrument was finally brought before 
 the synod. Some of the leading speakers, whom Vane 
 had gained over, commended it in terms of lavish 
 eulogium ; the assembly failed to detect the juggle ; 
 and immediately, with one voice, voted for all its 
 provisions. 
 
 A desirable bait was, indeed, held before the eyes 
 of the Scots, in a treaty founded upon the " solemn 
 league and covenant," and negotiated at the same time. 
 Among the stipulations of this treaty it was agreed, 
 that the Scotch forces, to be supplied for the more 
 effectual prosecution of the war, should be paid by 
 England 30,000/. per month ; and should receive for 
 their outfit an advance of 100,000/., with satisfaction
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 241 
 
 for all arrears due to the Scots for their exertions in 
 1640 and 1641, besides a reasonable recompense on 
 the conclusion of peace ; that, meantime, they should 
 have assigned to them, as security, the lands and 
 estates of papists, prelates, malignants, and their 
 adherents ; lastly, that no pacification should be en- 
 tered into without the advice of the Scots, who should 
 have an equal power in conducting the negotiations. 
 This last important stipulation was effectually followed 
 out, when, in the ensuing February, the Scotch com- 
 missioners in London sat down, with joint authority, 
 by the side of the most conspicuous members of the 
 two houses, in the great committee for administering 
 public affairs. The draught of the covenant was quickly 
 brought to Westminster ; was referred, as a case of 
 conscience, to the consideration of the assembly of 
 divines; being by them approved, was adopted by 
 both houses of parliament; and the 21st of September 
 was fixed for the memorable solemnity of its public 
 adoption. 
 
 Never had the cause been in so promising a condi- 
 tion. Never had sectarian freedom enjoyed so glorious 
 a field day. The scene was St. Margaret's Church, 
 where both houses, with the assemblv of divines and 
 the Scotch commissioners, assembled at an early hour. 
 First of all, Mr. White, one of the Assembly, " prayed 
 an hour to prepare the audience." Nye then mounted 
 the pulpit, and made an oration in praise of the 
 covenant, " shewing the warrant of it from Scripture, 
 the examples of it since the creation, and the benefit 
 of it to the church. The oath," he said, " was such, 
 
 R
 
 242 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 and in the matter and consequence of such concern- 
 ment, as it was truly worthy of them, — yea, of those 
 kingdoms, — yea, of all the kingdoms of the world. It 
 could be no other but the result and answer of such 
 prayers and tears, of such sincerity and sufferings, as 
 theirs, that three kingdoms should be thus new- 
 born in a day. They were entering upon a work of 
 the greatest moment and concernment to themselves, 
 and to their posterities after them, that ever was 
 undertaken by any of theui, or any of their fathers 
 before them. It was a duty of the first command- 
 ment, and therefore of the highest and noblest order 
 and rank of duties ; it therefore must come forth 
 attended Avith choicest graces, as fear and humility, 
 and in the greatest simplicity and plainness of spirit, 
 and respect of those with wdiom they covenanted : it 
 was to advance the kingdom of Christ here upon 
 earth, and make Jerusalem once more the praise of 
 the whole earth." Dr. Gouge then took his turn, in 
 prayer. Next Nye read the covenant from the pulpit, 
 and gave notice that every person present should im- 
 mediately, by swearing thereto, worship the great name 
 of God, and testify his doing so by lifting up his hands. 
 Immediately a forest of hands rose up. The whole 
 assembly then, by turns, advanced to the chancel, 
 where a transcript of the covenant had been prepared, 
 and subscribed it in the following order, — first, the 
 assembly of divines, then the Scotch commissioners, 
 afterwards the Lords and Commons of England. The 
 ceremony was concluded by an address from Hender- 
 son, the moderator of the synod of Scotland, and one
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION, 243 
 
 of tlie commissioners from tliat country for this occa- 
 sion. He took up the strain in which Nye had pre- 
 ceded ; and foretold, from the experience of Scotland, 
 what prodigious benefits would follow that day's solem- 
 nity : his nation had found nothing hard, to which 
 they had hound themselves by their covenants ; they 
 would, no doubt, by their assistance, enable the par- 
 liament of England to destroy the popish authors of 
 her miseries. "Were that covenant," exclaimed the 
 orator, " now painted upon the walls of the pope's 
 palace, it would, without doubt, put him into the 
 quaking condition of Belshazzar, when he beheld the 
 sentence which foretold his downfal." 
 
 The nature of a covenant implies a voluntary ad- 
 hesion, or none ; and the noblemen, barons, knights, 
 burgesses, and others, who held up their hands in 
 St. Margaret's Church, may be considered as having 
 freely engaged themselves. But on other persons, — 
 on all officers, civil and military, on the ministers of 
 the church, and the people in general, it was imposed 
 by the authority of parliament. Previously, however, 
 an exhortation was published, for the information 
 and encouragement of the people; it not being thought 
 safe to leave that business wholly to the clergy, on 
 whom, notwithstanding, it was enjoined. This docu- 
 ment was chiefly designed to prove the consistency of 
 the covenant with the oaths of supremacy and alle- 
 giance, and with the peculiar engagements of the 
 clergy. Safely, nevertheless, may we assert, though 
 some good and wise men led the way in adhesion to 
 this monstrous oath, that sophistry more insulting
 
 244 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 was never offered to the intellect of a community. 
 In fact, the "exhortation" openly recommends perjury 
 as a duty ; and so grossly had the habitual hypocrisy, 
 which the course of events had imposed on the 
 nation, now clouded men's minds, that the Earl of 
 Lincoln, who openly in the house of Lords protested 
 against the covenant, three or four more of the peers, 
 and a few commoners, who did not make their appear- 
 ance in the assembly at St. Margaret's Church, are 
 the only persons, except the clergy, known to have 
 demurred. A grand stroke of statesmanship, it might 
 be, on the part of Pym and Vane, of Say and St. John, 
 who now neither would nor could roll back the mighty 
 current on which they had ridden so far ; but, had no 
 other mischiefs followed, it was not a light one, that a 
 festering wound was thereby fixed in the moral sense of 
 the nation. This peculiar mischief of the covenant is 
 pointed out by a pamphlet of the time, in which one of 
 the subscribing peers is thus addressed : " Have your 
 consciences, my lord, grown so dead to Scripture, and 
 your understandings so dull to rules of law, that in 
 plain English you promise God Almighty to assist any 
 body to kill the king, and set up new covenants of your 
 own, point blank against your oaths of allegiance and 
 supremacy, and publish all this to the people, as the 
 articles of your new creed ; and yet, that your. lordship 
 should tell me that your affection and duty to the king 
 continues still the same, that you have still not only 
 the same desire, but the same hope of peace ? You tell 
 me of a trick your lordships have found out to save 
 you harmless from any obligation by this oath — a
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 245 
 
 salvo to all your other oaths lawfully taken ; and those 
 being diametrically contrary to this, you have upon 
 the matter engaged yourselves to nothing by this new 
 covenant, and so have cunningly evaded the design of 
 the contrivers. Oh, my lord, can you please your- 
 selves with these shifts? Is this the wisdom, vigilance, 
 integrity, and courage of the highest court of judica- 
 ture, to lead the people by their example to so solemn 
 an act as a covenant with God Almighty, which, at the 
 instant you took it, you intended should signify no- 
 thing ? Will the poor people of England, whereof, it 
 may be, many have looked up to your example with 
 reverence, and thought many things fit or lawful only 
 because you did them, when they shall find that you 
 have ' vowed in the presence of Almighty God, the 
 Searcher of all hearts, as you shall answer at the great 
 day when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, 
 that you will, according to your power, assist the forces 
 raised and continued by the parliament, against the 
 forces raised by the king,' — will they, I say, think 
 that your lordship intended nothing by this vow, but 
 what you were obliged to by your oaths of allegiance 
 and supremacy ; that is, ' to defend the king to the 
 utmost of your power, against all conspiracies and 
 attempts whatsoever, which shall be made against his 
 person, his crown, and dignity, and to do your best 
 endeavour to disclose and make known to him all 
 treasons and conspiracies which shall be against him, 
 to assist all jurisdictions, privileges, pre-eminences, and 
 authority, belonging to him, or united to the imperial 
 crown of this realm,' and, indeed, to do all things
 
 246 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 which by this your new sacred vow you have forsworn 
 to do? Will this salvo reconcile all these contradic- 
 tions? And is this subtility the first-fruits of your 
 ' humility, and reverence of the Divine Majesty, your 
 hearty sorrow for your own sins and the sins of the 
 nation, and your true intention to endeavour the 
 amendment of your own ways?' For God's sake, my 
 lord, talk not of preserving the true reformed Pro- 
 testant religion, and opposing papists and popery, 
 when your actions destroy the elements of Christ- 
 ianity ! " 
 
 The class on whom the imposition of the covenant 
 pressed, as it was designed to press, more heavily than 
 on any other, was the clergy. The second article 
 runs thus : " We shall, without respect of persons, en- 
 deavour the extirpation of popery and prelacy, (that is, 
 church-government, by archbishops, bishops, their 
 chancellors and commissaries, deans, deans and chap- 
 ters, archdeacons, and all other ecclesiastical officers 
 depending on that hierarchy.)" " It grieved them," 
 observed Fuller, " to see prelacy so unequally yoked ; 
 superstition, heresy, schism, profaneness" (such is, in 
 fact, the order of enumeration), "following after." But 
 a worse evil than insult was inflicted, when all who re- 
 fused by this appeal of awful solemnity to engage for 
 the destruction of that form of church government, 
 which they believed to be of Divine institution, and 
 had already bound themselves by oaths and subscrip- 
 tions to maintain, were thrust out, with their families, 
 to beggary, or shut up in dungeons. Such was 
 already the fate of numbers of their brethren. The
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 247 
 
 parliamentary committee for the removal of scandal- 
 ous ministers, and the subordinate committees in corre- 
 spondence with them, had been all this time prosecuting 
 their objects with earnest zeal. Some of the deprived 
 clergymen were ejected on charges of immorality and 
 incompetence ; but the greater part, for superstition or 
 malignancy ; that is, for attachment to the ordinances 
 of the church, or for loyalty to the king. It is sur- 
 prising that, with so many facilities and inducements, 
 the work proceeded no faster ; since the doors of the 
 committees were never closed against the represent- 
 ations of faction or mistake ; and since the desire of 
 providing " godly " ministers with livings, and ne- 
 glected congregations with such approved pastors, 
 from their own party, must be supposed to have natu- 
 rally stimulated their zeal. But the covenant supplied 
 a test which it w^as impossible for the clergy to evade : 
 even the Puritans among them, — those individuals 
 who were dissatisfied only with the rites and doctrines, 
 but not disposed to quarrel with the constitution, of 
 the church, and whose vehement outcries against the 
 popish tendency of the former had so largely assisted 
 in its destruction, — were now, in many cases, in- 
 volved in the same ruin with their brethren, and 
 vainly regretted the course they had pursued. In fact, 
 the more strict and conscientious of Puritan churchmen 
 must have largely shared in the general amount of 
 suffering ; for as almost every enormity, on which part 
 soever begun, was quickly answered by some corre- 
 sponding abuse on the other, we have no reason to 
 question the truth of those statements that remain,
 
 248 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 of the oppressions to which the stricter ministers were 
 exposed when they chanced to be found within the 
 king's quarters. The clergy were, indeed, on all sides, 
 in a condition so deplorable, being, as ]Mr. Hallam 
 allows, "utterly ruined," that the phrase " persecutio 
 undecima' — the eleventh persecution — applied to that 
 melancholy period, seems to imply no exaggeration. 
 
 It is creditable to themselves, though matter of 
 regret to us, that so few contemporary records of the 
 suffei'ings of the clergy, in that period, exist: for the 
 most part, they endured in dignified silence. Bishop 
 Hall's relation of his own " Hard Measure," as one of 
 the imprisoned and deprived bishops, is nearly unique, 
 as an autobiographical memoir of an ejected church- 
 man. Yet, not a few of the suflerers were too illus- 
 trious to escape the notice of history. Among such, 
 Hammond and Jeremy Taylor, it is true, found shelter 
 with friends; but Lydiat was dismissed to penury; 
 and Walton completed, in indigence, his prodigious 
 labours, designed for a generation who had deprived 
 him of bread, and who decried all human learning as 
 savourino- of uno:odliness. Persecution and want short- 
 ened the life of the " ever-memorable Hales." The 
 melancholy story of the great Chillingworth is related 
 by Cheynell, his persecutor in life and death, to en- 
 hance his credit with his presbyterian brethren. That 
 scholar, so eminent, to use the words of Cheynell him- 
 self, for " the excellency of his gifts and the depth of 
 his learning," had fallen into the hands of Waller at 
 the surrender of Arundel Castle ; and being unable, 
 from the infirm state of his health, to bear a journey
 
 THE CHCRCn IN DESOLATION. 249 
 
 to London with his fellow-prisoners, was removed to 
 Chichester. There this man Cheynell (who gravely 
 charges himself w^th "foolish pity "toward his victim), 
 and other violent preshyterians, so harassed him with 
 the insolence of unseasonable controversy, that within 
 a fortnight he expired ; although, with tender treat- 
 ment, as the inflated zealot himself acknowledges, he 
 might have recovered. But here the inhumanity of 
 his gaolers did not cease. Chillingworth's friends, says 
 Cheynell, were, '' out of mere charity," permitted to 
 afford him " the civility of a funeral," though " nothing 
 which belongs to the superstition of a funeral ;" i. e. 
 the use of the burial-service was prohibited. " It was 
 favour enough," continues this stern adherent of the 
 presbytery, " to permit Master Chillingworth's disciples 
 or followers, the malignants of the city, to attend 
 the hearse and inter his body." " The malignants" 
 attended accordingly; and were met, at the grave pre- 
 pared for the illustrious dead, by Cheynell, with Chil- 
 lingworth's immortal work in his hand ; which, after 
 having pronounced a speech full of rancorous abuse, he 
 flung into the grave, apostrophising it thus : " Get thee 
 gone, thou cursed book, w4iich hast seduced so many 
 precious souls ! Get thee gone, thou corrupt, rotten 
 book, earth to earth, and dust to dust ; get thee gone 
 into the })lace of rottenness, that thou mayest rot with 
 thy author, and see corruption." The lively picture of 
 sectarian spite here set before us, admitted of one touch 
 more: — " So much," concluded the iron-hearted bigot, 
 — " so much for the burial of his errors ! Touching
 
 250 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 the burial of liis corpse, I need say no more tlian this ; 
 it will be most proper for the men of his persuasion to 
 commit the body of their deceased friend — brother — 
 master — to the dust; and it will be most proper for me 
 to hearken to that counsel of my Saviour, ' Let the 
 dead bury their dead, but go thou and preach the 
 kingdom of God!' And so," says he, finishing, with 
 great self-applause, this hateful portrait of himself, 
 " I went from the grave to the pulpit, and preached 
 on that text to the cong-reo-ation," 
 
 The case of Dr. Featly was peculiar, but charac- 
 teristic. The Doctor was a man of moderation and 
 learning ; a doctrinal Puritan, and one of the few epis- 
 copalian clergymen nominated to seats in the assembly 
 of divines, who consented to sit : he was, indeed, the 
 only one of his class who continued long to attend the 
 meetings of that body. In consequence, however, of 
 opposing himself to such measures as the abolition of 
 bishoprics and the sale of church lands, he was brought 
 before one of the committees of the house of Commons, 
 who proposed to dispossess him of his preferment. But 
 Featly's abilities and integrity reflecting some credit 
 on the synod, the house refused to confirm this vote of 
 the committee. Shortly afterwards, however, a corre- 
 spondence of his with the great Archbishop Usher, at 
 that time in Oxford, was betrayed to the parliament. 
 Upon this, the house again took up the inquiry. 
 Featly was charged with " adhering to the enemy." 
 Lambeth, and another living which he had in the 
 country, were both sequestered, his estate and library
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 251 
 
 seized, and himself committed to a common gaol, 
 where he remained till want and misery sank him 
 to the grave. 
 
 But the most lamentable effect of the temper which 
 governed those persons who imposed the covenant on 
 the people of England — perhaps, the most disgraceful 
 blot on the history of the Long Parliament, — was the 
 destruction of Laud. It is a woful story, justly ap- 
 preciated by posterity ; and one which the warmest 
 foes of episcopacy and monarchy, in our times, are 
 willing to pass over in silence. But the salutary lesson 
 it affords, history will not dispense with ; and here 
 (for to this place they naturally belong) we will insert 
 on our busy canvass the few touches, which cannot be 
 refused to so grand and affecting an exhibition of 
 bravely-endured oppression . 
 
 To the articles formerly exhibited against the arch- 
 bishop, ten others were added on the 24th of October, 
 1643; when he also received an order to put in his 
 answer to the whole, in writing, on the 30th of that 
 month. They relate chiefly to two heads of charges — 
 to popish innovations in the church, and endeavouring to 
 establish an arbitrary and tyrannical government. An 
 extension of time, for a fortnight, was, on his petition, 
 granted to the primate. He farther applied for the re- 
 storation of his papers : the answer was, that he might 
 have copies of them a,this own charge, — when hisjudges 
 had already reduced him to a state of absolute penury! 
 Left, thus, at the mercy of his revengeful and unprin- 
 cipled prosecutor Pj-ynne, he requested funds suffi- 
 cient for employing counsel : this, too, was refused.
 
 252 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 Counsel were, however, assigned liim, of whom Hale 
 was one. 
 
 The trial was again adjourned ; but on the 12th of 
 March 1644, the archbishop was brought by the lieu- 
 tenant of the Tower, and the usher of the black-rod, 
 to the bar of the Lords. The process commenced by 
 a speech from Sergeant Wilde, who, with Maynard, 
 and others, had been appointed to conduct the prose- 
 cution. He began with a Latin quotation : Repertum 
 est hodierno die facinus, quod nee poeta fingere, nee 
 histrio sonare, nee mimus imitari, potuerit — "this 
 day is an atrocity brought to light, such as no poet 
 could feign, no actor represent, no mimic imitate!" 
 Aware what usage he might expect, Laud had at one 
 time thought of declining to defend himself; but he 
 conquered this weakness, and " resolved to undergo 
 all scorn and whatsoever else might happen to him, 
 rather than betray his own innocency." To the charge 
 of attempting to introduce an arbitrary and tyrannical 
 government, he replied by alleging, that in his judg- 
 ments, and his advice, as a privy councillor, he had, 
 to the best of his knowledge, regulated his course 
 according to the laws, and had done nothing without 
 the concurrence of his colleagues. The charge of 
 Popery he met by adducing a list of two-and-twenty 
 persons, whom he had converted from the Romish 
 religion to Protestantism. 
 
 The method of conducting this cause tried equally 
 the courage and the health of the ajjed and infirm 
 churchman. Each day, at about two o'clock, the 
 charge against the prisoner was concluded. From
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 253 
 
 that time till four, he was allowed to prepare his 
 answer; but was not permitted to converse with his 
 counsel until after it had been made. One, or more, 
 of the committee then replied ; and it was evening 
 before the wearied archbishop was dismissed from the 
 presence of his unfeeling peers, to return by water, 
 for the night, to his gloomy residence in the Tower. 
 Several of the miserable band, of ten or twelve mem- 
 bers, to which that noble house was now reduced, 
 would retire even before the completion of the charge. 
 " I never had," writes Laud, " any one day, the same 
 lords all the morning. And no one lord was present 
 at my whole trial, but the Lord Grey of Werke, 
 the speaker." He was exposed to insult from his 
 enemies, both within the house, and without. On one 
 occasion, Hugh Peters followed, and pestered him with 
 abuse, until the Earl of Essex coming up freed him 
 from his merciless tormentor : at another time, Ni- 
 cholas, one of the committee of managers, applied to 
 him language of intolerable brutality. Then, only, 
 Laud gave way to feelings of indignation, " If," he ex- 
 claimed, " my crimes are such that 1 may not be used 
 like an archbishop, yet let me be used like a Christian!" 
 The lords felt shame, and reproved the ruffian pleader. 
 Yet in the teeth of these discouraoino- circumstances, 
 the prisoner defended himself with such consummate 
 ability and unaffected courage, as extorted admiration 
 and bitter praise even from Prynne. 
 
 At the conclusion of the trial, the archbishop was 
 allowed to make his general defence to the whole 
 charge. On arriving at the bar of the lords, he im-
 
 254 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 mediately perceived that each of his judges was busied 
 with the examination of a book laid before him : these 
 were so many copies of his diary ; which Prynne had 
 printed, in an imperfect and interpolated form, and pro- 
 duced in this unexpected manner, if possible to silence 
 and confound him. The scheme failed: undauntedly 
 he proceeded with his defence. His counsel replied to 
 the matter of law ; the judges, when referred to, pro- 
 nounced, " in their timid way," that no proofs of legal 
 treason had been adduced. All was useless. Laud's 
 doom, like Strafford's, had been fixed. The machi- 
 nery of petitions for "justice" was once more put in 
 motion. The primate of England was, now, dragged 
 before the house of Commons. An ordinance for his 
 attainder was sent up thence to the Lords : where, 
 to the eternal disgrace of that house, as far as any 
 act of the cowardly creatures who then represented 
 the peers, could disgrace the greatest English court 
 of justice, it found advocates and compliance. Why 
 harrow up the depths of honest indignation, by pur- 
 suing farther this hideous, this unholy farce ? We 
 hasten to the conclusion ! On the 10th of January 
 1645, after a hard struggle for the privileges of the 
 axe, to be substituted for the gallows, — this being 
 the death insisted upon by the house of Commons, — • 
 those deliverers of England from the yoke of her 
 ancient monarchy, those vindicators of conscience 
 against the terrible persecutors of the order of Taylor, 
 Hall and Morley, were gratified with the sight of 
 Laud — of Laud, the grateful foundei* of the almshouses 
 at Reading — the nmnificent benefactor of St. John's
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 255 
 
 College, and the Bodleian Library — the converter of 
 Buckingham and Chillingworth, — ascending, with the 
 " tottering step of eld," but with a countenance ruddy 
 and serene, to the same platform which, four years 
 before, had streamed with the noble blood of his 
 friend Strafford ! 
 
 His "sermon-speech," as Fuller terras it — for he 
 began with the encouraging and sublime text, Hebrews, 
 xii. 2, — with its tone of deep, quiet pathos, is well 
 known. So composedly did he speak, that, observes Sir 
 Philip Warwick, " he appeared to make his own funeral 
 sermon with less passion, than he had in former times 
 made the like for a friend." Like Strafford, he, in 
 concluding, utterly denied the charge of his enmity 
 to that part of the constitution, under whose ven- 
 geance he suffered. " I know the uses of parliaments," 
 he said, " too well to be their enemy. But I likew^ise 
 know that parliaments have been sometimes guilty of 
 misgovernment and abuse ; and that no corruption is 
 so bad, as the corruption of that, which, in itself, is 
 excellent. But I have done," he concluded ; " I 
 forgive all the world ; all and every of those bitter 
 enemies which have persecuted me. And I humbly 
 desire to be furgiven of God first, and then of every 
 man, whether I have offended him or not, if he do 
 but conceive that I have ; Lord do Thou forgive me, 
 and 1 beg forgiveness of him. And so I heartily 
 desire you to join in prayer with me." The dying 
 archbishop then knelt down, and with awful impres- 
 siveness repeated that memorable prayer, so often
 
 256 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 printed, but with which, nevertheless, we cannot refuse 
 to recommend these pages : — 
 
 •' O eternal God and merciful Father! look down 
 upon me in mercy, in the riches and fulness of all thy 
 mercies, look down upon me : hut not till thou hast 
 nailed my sins to the cross of Christ, not till thou hast 
 bathed me in the blood of Christ, not till I have hid 
 myself in the wounds of Christ, that so the punishment 
 due unto my sins may pass over me. And since Thou 
 art pleased to try me to the utmost, I humbly beseech 
 Thee, give me now in this great instant, full patience, 
 projDortionable comfort, and a heart ready to die for 
 thine honour, the king's happiness, and the Church's 
 preservation. And my zeal to this (far from arro- 
 gancy be it spoken!) is all the sin (human frailty 
 excepted, and all the incidents thereunto) which is yet 
 known to me in this particular, for which I now come 
 to suffer : I say, in this particular of treason. But 
 otherwise my sins are many and great : Lord, pardon 
 them all ; and those especially (whatever they are) 
 which have drawn down this present judgment upon 
 me ! And when Thou hast given me strength to bear 
 it, do with me as seems best in thine own eyes ; and 
 carry me through death, that I may look upon it in 
 what visage soever it shall appear to me. Amen ! And 
 that there may be a stop of this issue of blood in this 
 more than miserable kingdom (I shall desire that I 
 may pray for the people too, as well as for myself) ; 
 O Lord, I beseech thee, give grace of repentance to all 
 blood-thirsty people. But if they will not repent, O
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 257 
 
 Lord, confound all their devices, defeat and frustrate 
 their designs and endeavours upon them, which are 
 or shall be contrary to the glory of thy great name, 
 the truth and sincerity of religion, the estahlislnuent of 
 the king and his posterity after him in their just lights 
 and privileges, the honour and conservation of parlia- 
 ments in their just povrer, the preservation of this poor 
 church in her truth, peace, and patrimony, and the 
 settlement of this distracted and distressed people 
 under their ancient laws, and in their native liberty. 
 And when Thou hast done all this, in mere mercy to 
 them, O Lord, fill their hearts with thankfulness, and 
 with religious, dutiful obedience to thee, and thy com- 
 mandments, all their days. Amen, Lord Jesus ; Amen. 
 And receive my soul into thy bosom ! Amen." 
 
 The archbishop had petitioned that three of his 
 chaplains might be with him before and at his death : 
 he was allowed only one — it was Dr. Sterne ; witii 
 whom the parliament sent Sir John Clotworthy and 
 another of their presbyterian friends. To Dr. Sterne, 
 having concluded his prayer, he delivered the paper ; 
 and begged of him to communicate it to his brother 
 chaplains, that they might see in what manner he had 
 left this world ; and he prayed to God to bless them. 
 Observing a person employed in taking down his 
 speech and prayer, he besought him not to misreport 
 what he had uttered ; " a phrase," he remarked, 
 " might do wrong to one who was going from the 
 world, and would have no means to set himself right." 
 Then he advanced towards the block ; but finding that 
 part of the scaffold crowded with spectators, he desired
 
 258 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 that they would give him room to die. " Let me," 
 said he, " escape from these miseries which I have en- 
 dured so long. God's will be done ! I am willing to 
 leave the world ; no man can be more willing to dis- 
 miss me, than I am to be gone." And perceiving, 
 through the crevices of the platform, that some per- 
 sons were standing beneath, immediately under the 
 block, he requested that they might be removed, or 
 that dust might be spread over the crevices : it was no 
 part of his desire that his blood should fall upon the 
 heads of the people. All this he did as collectedly "as 
 if he rather had been taking order for some nobleman's 
 funeral, than preparing for his own." The zeal of 
 Clotworthy could no longer respect this awful moment, 
 or the sublime propriety with which the archbishop 
 performed his great part. He demanded of the dying 
 })relate, what was the most comfortable saying for a man 
 at the point of death? Laud replied : " Cupio dissolvi, 
 et esse cum Chi'isto, — I desire to depart and to be 
 with Christ." "A good desire," admitted the inqui- 
 sitor; " but then, how shall a dying man find assur- 
 ance?" The primate answered, that such assurance 
 was to be found within, but that it could not fitly be 
 expressed in words. The assurance, however, Clot- 
 worthy still insisted, " was founded upon a word ; and 
 that word should be known." " It is founded on the 
 knowledge of Jesus Christ," was the reply, "and on 
 that alone." Laud now turned to the executioner, 
 "as the gentler and discreeter person of the two ;" and 
 putting some money into his hands, with the same un- 
 alfccted composure which he had preserved through-
 
 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 259 
 
 out, said, " Here, honest friend ; God forgive tliee, as 
 I do. Do thine office upon me with mercy." He 
 then fell again upon his knees, and, having pro- 
 nounced a brief but expressive prayer, laid his head 
 upon the block. A moment's pause — he gave the 
 signal — " Lord Jesus receive my spirit!" At one 
 blow the axe did its fearful office ; and instantly the 
 sufferer's countenance, which, up to that moment, had 
 retained the animated flush, that, through life, was 
 peculiar to it, became pale as ashes ; to the confusion 
 of some present, who affirmed that he had painted his 
 cheeks, in order that, by his complexion at least, he 
 might obtain the credit of fortitude. 
 
 Thus fell Laud ; and with him fell the Church 
 of England ; for the same day that the house of 
 Lords passed the ordinance for his destruction, they 
 likewise passed an act for the suppression of the 
 Liturgy, and for setting up the Directory for Public 
 Worship — a meagre formulary, prepared by the as- 
 sembly of divines, in which no place is found for the 
 creed, the Lord's prayer, or the commandments. The 
 body of the primate was interred, in the church of 
 All-hallows, Barking, near the Tower. The Direc- 
 tory, in which burials are ordered to be without any 
 religious observance, was already in use ; yet the sor- 
 rowing friends of Laud enjoyed the mournful consol- 
 ation of depositing his remains in the grave, according 
 to the majestic rites of that church for which he lived 
 and died, and whose funeral they might be said to 
 have solemnised at the same time with the primate's.
 
 260 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 Tills is not the place to speak of the schisms and 
 religious confusions which followed ; yet the noisome 
 weeds did not wait to spring up, till the tree that sup- 
 plied life to the national morals was laid low : every 
 stroke that before thinned its branches, had opened a 
 fresh space for them to overspread. Already the as- 
 sembly of divines had applied to the Lords and Com- 
 mons in parliament for powers to correct the " brutish 
 ignorance," and root out the gross vices, which con- 
 tempt of the church and persecution of the clergy, had 
 let in upon the people. We will once more have re- 
 course here to the very words of those who saw, with 
 their own eyes, the evils they describe. From the 
 numerous contemporary tracts, we select, for quota- 
 tion, one, which, though occasionally defective in taste, 
 seems free fi'om the exaggerations of party. The 
 writer imagines himself to hear England deploring her 
 condition in reg-ard to moralitv and relioion : 
 
 " I should traduce and much wrong Religion," 
 he says, " if I should cast this war upon her: yet me- 
 thinks I hear her lament that she is not also without 
 her grievances. Some of her chiefest governors, for 
 want of moderation, could not be content to walk 
 upon the battlements of the church, but they must 
 mount also to the turrets of civil policy ; some of her 
 2>reachers grew to be mere parasites — some to the 
 court, some to the country ; some would have nothing 
 in their mouths but prerogative, others nothing but 
 privilege ; some would give the crown all, some no- 
 thing ; some, to feed zeal would famish the under-
 
 THE CHURCH IH DESOLATION. 261 
 
 standing ; others to feast the understanding, and tickle 
 the outward ear with essays and flourishes of rhetoric, 
 would quite starve the soul of her true food. 
 
 " But the principal thing that I hear that reverend 
 lady, that queen of souls, complain of, is, that that 
 seamless garment of unity and love, which our Saviour 
 left her for a legacy, should be torn and rent into so 
 many scissures and sects. I hear her cry out at the 
 monstrous exorbitant liberty, that almost every capri- 
 cious mechanic takes to himself to shape and form 
 what religion he lists. For the world is come to that 
 pass, that the tailor and shoemaker may cut out what 
 religion they please ; the vintner and tapster may 
 broach what religion they please ; the dyer may put 
 what colour, the painter may put what face upon her 
 he pleases ; the blacksmith may forge what religion he 
 pleases, — and so every artisan, according to his profes- 
 sion and fancy, may form her as he pleases. Methinks 
 I hear that venerable matron complain, how her pul- 
 pits are become beacons ; how, for lights, her churches 
 are full of firebrands ; how every caprice of the brain 
 is termed tenderness of conscience, every frantic fancy, 
 or rather frenzy, of some shallow-brained sciolist ; 
 and whereas others have been used to go mad from 
 excess of knoAvledge, men grow mad now-a-days from 
 excess of ignorance. It stands upon record in my story, 
 that when the Norman had got firm footing within 
 my realm, he did demolish many churches and cha- 
 pels in the New Forest, to make it fitter for his plea- 
 sure ; but amongst other judgments which fell upon 
 this sacrilege, one was, that tame fowl grew wild : I
 
 262 THE CHURCH IN DESOLATION. 
 
 fear God Almighty is more angry with me now, than 
 then, and that I am guilty of worse crimes ; for not 
 my fowl but my folk and people are grown, in many 
 places, half wild ; they would not worry one another so 
 in that Avolfish belluine manner, else. They would not 
 precipitate themselves else into such a mixed mongrel 
 war; a war which makes strangers cry out, that I am 
 tui'ned into a kind of great bedlam, that Barbary is 
 come into the midst of me, — that my children are 
 grown so savage, so fleshed in slaughter, and become 
 so inhuman and obdurate, that with the same tender- 
 ness of sense they can see a man fall, as a horse, or 
 some other brute animal ; they have so lost all reve- 
 rence to the image of their Creator, which was used to 
 be more valued in me than among other nations."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON-MDOR. 
 
 The return of the Earl of Essex to London, and tlie 
 king's retirement to Oxford, after the fight at New- 
 bury, though those movements terminated the cam- 
 paign of 1643, as it regarded the two main armies, did 
 not put an end to the military operations of the year. 
 The greater part of England was alive with a ceaseless 
 war of skirmishes and sieges. Prince Rupert, in the 
 midland counties, maintained his reputation for cou- 
 rage: and activity, for severity and rapine. In the west, 
 his brother Maurice, after receiving the submission of 
 several garrisons, which the brilliant successes of the 
 royal arms at Roundway Down and Bristol had fright- 
 ened into ready submission, besieged Plymouth, with- 
 out taking it ; and then sat down with a large force 
 before the paltry ditches of the little town of Lyme. 
 — The war in the north presented features of more 
 interest. 
 
 The Earl of Manchester, having reduced Lynn, 
 dj'ew his forces into Lincolnshire, and on the 11th of 
 October, was joined by Cromwell, now his lieutenant- 
 general, and by Sir Thomas Fairfax. The following
 
 2G4 CAMPAIGN OF 1G44 — MAR8TON-M0OR, 
 
 day, they were attacked by a strong body of cavalry, 
 from the royalist garrisons of Lincoln, Newark, and 
 Gainsborough, at Waisby Field, near Horncastle. That 
 spirit of religious enthusiasm, which was the secret of 
 Cromwell's extraordinary influence over his own un- 
 conquered regiments of troopers, had by this time 
 widely diffused its electric sympathy through the ranks 
 of the army in which he commanded. On the ap- 
 pearance of the enemy, he gave the word of onset — 
 "Truth and Peace;" called on his soldiers to charge, 
 in the name of the Highest ; uplifted his loud harsh 
 voice in a psalm, which officers and men, column after 
 column, took up with hearty zeal; and, while it was 
 yet sounding through their ranks, bore fiercely down 
 upon the startled enemy. Midway, a volley met them 
 from the royalist dragoons : they answered it by a 
 louder note of that solemn defiance. A second dis- 
 charge saluted them, when within a few paces of the 
 hostile column. Cromwell's horse was shot dead, and 
 fell upon him ; and when, after a moment's struggle, 
 he rose from the ground, he was again struck down, 
 by an officer who had, at first, singled him out for 
 the charge. Stunned for a moment, he presently 
 rose a second time from among the slain, mounted 
 the horse of a common soldier, which chanced to be 
 at hand, and plunged forward into the fight. But 
 by this time a regiment, commanded by Sir William 
 Savile, which had received the first overwhelming 
 shock of tlie parliamentarians, giving ground, disor- 
 dered and put to flight the whole van of the royalists. 
 The rout quickly became general. INIanchester, has-
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON-MOOU. 265 
 
 tening up with the infantry, found Waisby Field, and 
 the road towards Lincoln, strewed with the royalist 
 dead and dying; the survivors were utterly dispersed. 
 A thousand of the king's troops are said to have 
 perished in this short but terrible action. The next 
 day the Marquess of Newcastle raised the siege of 
 Hull. 
 
 Now began the splendid and more decisive cam- 
 paign of 1644. Vainly had Cliarles sought to pre- 
 vent, what he had long foreseen, the irruption of the 
 Scots. In his name, though contrary to his proclam- 
 ation, those levies were raised, whose entrance on 
 the field was to turn against him the balanced scale 
 of fortune ; and on the 19th of January, 21,000 men 
 of that nation, led by Lesley, Earl of Leven, marched, 
 knee-deep in snow, upon the soil of England ; the same 
 Lesley, who, on receiving that title (such was the faith 
 of those who were never weary of charging the king 
 with faithlessness!) had solemnly promised his sove- 
 I'eign never more to bear arms against him. Passing 
 Alnwick, after a summons to the brave Sir Thomas 
 Glemham, who, with many of the gentry of Northum- 
 berland, was shut up in that fortress, they came before 
 Newcastle, into which place the marquess had thrown 
 himself the day before. Disappointed in their hope of 
 surprising the town, they continued their march south- 
 ward, skirmishing, now and then, with small parties of 
 the royalists ; and, some days later, were discovered by 
 the marquess, who had gone in pursuit of them, occu- 
 pying a strong position by the sea, near Sunderland. 
 For weeks, the two armies kept each other at bay ; till
 
 266 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON-MOOR. 
 
 at length the marquess, " seeing no possibility" of 
 forcing; the Scots to an engao-ement, drew off towards 
 Durham. Had he resolved on creating such a possi- 
 bility and vigorously followed it up, Newcastle might 
 now have risen from the dubious reputation of a gallant 
 amateur commander, to the fame of a great general ; 
 and if he had not arrested the final triumph of the 
 parliament, might at least have forced it into a more 
 honourable path to victory, than one carved out by 
 the swords of hypocrital mercenaries. 
 
 Unable, in the distracted state of affairs in Eng- 
 land, to reduce the Irish rebels to obedience, Charles 
 had consented to a truce, and had invited the veteran 
 soldiers of that country to join his forces in England. 
 Numbers flocked over ; but nothing was accomplished 
 by those auxiliaries, to compensate for the odium of 
 employing men practised in such barbarities as had 
 disgraced the savage contest in Ireland, and many of 
 them suspected, at the least, of Popery. So generally 
 hateful was the name of Irishmen, that many of the 
 king's adherents, in Newcastle's army and elsewhere, 
 laid down their arms, as soon as it became known that 
 the king had proposed to accept the services of that 
 people ; and the parliament passed an ordinance for the 
 massacre of Irish prisoners of war, without any appa- 
 rent shock to the public feeling. Some parties of these 
 veterans having made their appearance in the county 
 of Chester, the gallant Lord Byron, who commanded 
 there for the king, united them with the forces already 
 under his command, and laid siege to Nantwich, the 
 only garrison in those parts which still held out for
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON-MOOR. 267 
 
 the parliament. This incident gave occasion to one of 
 those brilliant actions, which marked the dawn of Sir 
 Thomas Fairfax's military fame. In the depth of that 
 inclement winter he marched across from Lincolnshire, 
 joined the forces of Sir William Brereton, from the 
 county of Leicester; and, appearing unexpectedly 
 before Nantwich, forced the besiegers to draw off, and 
 routed them with a severe loss. Of 3000 foot, com- 
 manded by Byron, more than half were slain or 
 captured. This defeat was a severe blow to the king's 
 cause. His Irish auxiliaries, on whom he had mainly 
 depended to enable him to take the field early in the 
 spring, never came together again, but were all cut 
 off in detail. Fairfax's despatch, written after the 
 battle, mentions, as having been captured in the 
 camp, 120 Irish women, of whom a great propor- 
 tion were armed with long knives. Among the pri- 
 soners taken, was also the famous Colonel George 
 Monk, afterwards the instrument of restoring the 
 Stuart family to the throne. He was sent up to 
 London, and imprisoned in the Tower; but consented 
 to transfer his services to the parliament, and by his 
 courage and activity soon took a distinguished part 
 in the military affairs of the period. 
 
 Fairfax, in obedience to the orders of the parlia- 
 ment, marched back again into Yorkshire, and joined 
 his father. Lord Fairfax, at Selby, to co-operate with 
 the Scots. Falling in, near that town, with a party 
 commanded by Colonel Bellasis, the governor of York, 
 who had marched out to prevent the junction, he 
 totally defeated them, and captured their officers and
 
 268 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON-MOOR. 
 
 cannon, including Bellasis himself. York was now 
 seriously endangered ; the Marquess of Newcastle, 
 therefore, yielding to the solicitations of the alarmed 
 inhabitants, broke up his position at Durham, and en- 
 tered that city on the 19th of April. The next day, the 
 Scots came to Wetherby . There, the day following, they 
 were joined by the Fairfaxes, and proceeded at once to 
 besiege the marquess. The wide extent of the walls of 
 York, and the facilities of annoying the besiegers, which 
 the river afforded to so strong a garrison as was now 
 enclosed within their circuit, — for Newcastle's horse 
 was between 4000 and 5000 strons;, — rendered the 
 investment merely an irregular blockade, and exposed 
 the besiegers to continual sorties. But these incon- 
 veniences was presently remedied by the advance of 
 the Earl of Manchester's forces, out of Lincolnshire, 
 to the support of his friends. That commander 
 was now at the head of the completest army yet 
 brought into the field by either party. It consisted 
 of 14,000 men, chiefly disciplined on Cromwell's plan, 
 splendidly armed, and liberally furnished with all 
 necessary supplies. Their general was likewise stimu- 
 lated by the daring genius of his lieutenant, and by 
 the presence of a j^arliamentary committee, at the 
 head of whom was the subtle Vane, — since Pym's 
 death, acknowledged leader of the house of Commons. 
 On his march, Manchester possessed himself, by storm, 
 of Lincoln ; and, with the help of Cromwell's " Invin- 
 cibles," drove back Goring, whom the Marquess of New- 
 castle had despatched with the greater part of his 
 cavalry, to attempt the relief of that place. The
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644. — MARSTON-MOOR. 269 
 
 arrival of a tliircl army loefore York was tlie signal for 
 breaking off negotiations for an armistice, then pend- 
 ing between tlie marquess and Fairfax ; and it imme- 
 diately enabled the besiegers, by means of this vast 
 additional force, to press the siege with a degree of 
 vigour which seriously distressed the marquess, and 
 obliged him to send and acquaint the king with his 
 perilous condition. The parliamentarians now drew 
 their lines close up to the walls ; erected batteries, 
 which overlooked the town ; took possession of the 
 suburbs, in the midst of the flames which the gariiion 
 had set to them ; and repulsed, with equal valour, the 
 frequent sallies of the fearless enemy within. 
 
 The king, — to rctnrn to the occurrences of the 
 winter, — while waiting for the season, when he must 
 resume, in the field, a contest, every day growing 
 moi'e unequal, adopted two expedients, from which 
 he hoped either to derive some advantages in car- 
 rying on the war, or at least to prepare the way 
 for peace upon endurable terms. He had long felt, 
 that the strongest ally of his enemies was in the 
 witchery that accompanied the very sound of the 
 word parliament, to the ears of Englishmen. Of this 
 spell he now tried to get possession. The anti-parlia- 
 ment, composed of those peers and commoners who 
 had deserted, or had been expelled, from the houses 
 at Westminster, was assembled at Oxford, about 
 the time that the Scots passed the Tweed. The 
 numbers which met in this convention, were respect- 
 able — more than half as many in the lower, and full 
 three times as many in the upper house, as appeared
 
 270 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON-MOOR. 
 
 at the rival assembly, which still laid exclusive claim 
 to the name and rights of the parliament of England. 
 Their proceedings evinced that moderation which 
 became the friends of their bleeding country, in the 
 distracted circumstances of the time. Without dis- 
 playing any extreme warmth of loyalty, or indulging in 
 a tone of exasperation towards their brethren at 
 Westminster, they earnestly sought peace, and would 
 have purchased it by large concessions ; but the other 
 side now repelled all advances, in the sovereign style 
 of conquerors. They forw^arded the covenant to Ox- 
 ford, declaring that engagement to be the immediate 
 work of God, for the furtherance, by their means, of 
 " his own truth and cause against the heresy, super- 
 stition, and tyranny of antichrist ; " proclaimed their 
 solemn determination never to lay down their arms, 
 till they had made peace on their owm terms ; gave 
 Avarning that they would henceforth endure no luke- 
 warraness, in their cause ; and, finally, offered a pardon 
 to all who should, before a certain day, desert the king, 
 give in their adherence to the parliament, and take the 
 covenant. The existence of the parliament at Oxford 
 they did not acknowledge. Frustrated in its object of 
 a pacification, that assembly now turned its attention 
 to the means of prosecuting tiie war. Those means, 
 notwithstanding the generous loyalty of nmltitudes, who 
 impoverished their families to the last aci'e, to lay the 
 produce at the king's feet, were by this time miserably 
 exhausted. The principal measure proposed by the 
 Oxford jiurliament, with this view, was, in imitation of 
 theij- opponents, to levy an excise. When the mem-
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 MARSTON-MOOR. 271 
 
 bers separated, they had scarcely to reckon among 
 their acts any greater benefit to the royal cause, than 
 the absorption, though but for a season, of the mean 
 passions and paltry discontents of a contemptible court, 
 in the interest excited by the nobler endeavours even 
 of that which the king himself termed his " mongrel 
 parliament." 
 
 Charles's second expedient proved no less abortive. 
 Cardinal Richelieu, who, from the beginning of the 
 troubles, had encouraged the enemies of the crown, 
 both in England and Scotland, was now dead ; his 
 master, Louis XIII, had followed ; and Cardinal Maza- 
 rine, the new prime minister of France, was thought 
 vvilling to second the friendly disposition of the regent 
 towards the English court. Great hopes were there- 
 fore entertained, by Charles, of successful consequences 
 from the mediation of the new French envoy, avIio 
 now made his appearance, in the person of the Count 
 of Harcourt. But the suspicions of the parliament 
 were excited. The count had scarcely set foot on 
 English ground, when his retinue was searched by 
 a messenoer from the Commons, who arrested Mon- 
 tague, an accredited agent of the king and queen 
 of England at Paris, disguised among his attendants, 
 and committed him to the Tower. In London, the 
 ambassador was received with apparent respect, and 
 allowed to proceed to Oxford. Charles was soon unde- 
 ceived, with regard to the authority of this person to 
 neofotiate for aid from France. On the other hand, 
 the parliament, to whom Harcourt now returned, de- 
 clined his offered mediation, on the ground of his
 
 272 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 MARSTON-MOOR. 
 
 bringing no credentials to either house. They even 
 intercepted his despatches ; among which, a letter from 
 Goring to the queen disclosed that the embassy was 
 planned and arranged by her majesty. On the part 
 of the French government, it was, in fact, a diplo- 
 matic manoeuvre, designed to amuse both parties: it 
 ended without any other result, than to confirm the 
 confidence of the parliament, and to leave the king, 
 as it found him, to his own precarious resources. 
 
 As the season of warlike activity approached, 
 Charles looked on with anxious uncertainty, while his 
 enemies employed their utmost efforts to send into the 
 field a force sufficient to realise their professed in- 
 tention of overwhelming him at one blow. 
 
 While their levies were proceeding in London, 
 the usual speeches were made to the citizens, to per- 
 suade them freely to part w^ith their contributions ; 
 and after the preparations were comj^leted, the cus- 
 tomary fast was appointed, to pray for success. Such 
 was the effect of the eloquence of Essex and War- 
 wick, of Vane, HoUis, and Glyn, upon the citizens 
 assembled in Guildhall, that even the loss of Pym 
 threw no observable damp over the public zeal. 
 How the more solemn business of the fast-day was 
 conducted, in the assembly of divines, we are in- 
 formed, in a passage of inimitably rich naivete, by 
 Baillie. " We spent from nine to five graciously," 
 writes the complacent commissioner. " After Doctor 
 Twiss had begun with a brief prayer, Mr. Marshall 
 prayed large two hours, most divinely confessing the 
 sins of the assembly, in a wonderful pathetic and pru-
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 273 
 
 dent way. After, Mr. Arrowsmith preached an hour, 
 then a psalm ; thereafter Mr. Vines prayed near two 
 hours, and Mr. Palmer preached an hour, and Mr. 
 Seaman prayed near two hours, then a psalm ; after, 
 Mr. Henderson brought them to a sweet conference of 
 the heat confessed in the assembly, and other seen 
 faults to be remedied, and the conveniency to preach, 
 against all sects, especially anabaptists and antino- 
 mians. Dr. Twiss closed with a short prayer and 
 blessing. God was so evidently in all this exercise, 
 that we expect certainly a blessing." 
 
 The Earl of Manchester's army has been men- 
 tioned already : in the middle of May, Essex and 
 Waller likewise marched from London, each at the 
 head of 10,000 men. As soon as the former had 
 reached Windsor, and the latter had encamped at 
 Basing, the king advanced from Newbury, where his 
 army had mustered, to Reading; rased the fortifi- 
 cations of that town, in order to augment his forces 
 with the troops of the garrison ; and again retired 
 to Oxford, to observe the movements of his enemies. 
 
 The parliamentarian armies now pushed on, and 
 occupied Reading ; Abingdon, which the royalists 
 had likewise abandoned; and, in effect, the whole 
 of Berkshire. The situation of Charles was, indeed, 
 become critical. Waller forced a passage across the 
 Isis ; the Thames was crossed by Essex ; and thus 
 Charles found himself and his troops shut up in a 
 narrow isthmus between two powerful armies. In 
 London, a report prevailed, that Oxford was already 
 taken, and the king a prisoner. The court was 
 
 T
 
 274 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 in consternation, apprehending all the dismal horrors 
 of a siege. Essex, on his march to Islip, at which town 
 he designed to fix his quarters, drew up his army upon 
 an open space, where those in the city had a full 
 view of it; while, with his train of officers, he rode 
 round, and surveyed, without molestation, nearly the 
 whole circuit of its defences. The only means left to 
 Charles, of saving that venerable seat of learning from 
 the destructive miseries of war, was to withdraw him- 
 self, if possible, to a distance ; for he was aware that 
 the object now chiefly aimed at by his enemies, was the 
 possession of his person. Accordingly, on the 3rd of 
 June, he visited his quarters at Woodstock ; brought 
 his army close under the walls of Oxford, there to wait 
 his farther pleasure ; ordered out a body of foot with 
 cannon, on the road towards Abingdon, in order 
 to divert the attention of his pursuers from his real 
 purpose; and prepared everything for his escape. As 
 soon as night fell, he summoned the prince and their 
 attendants, and, escorted by his own regiment of cavalry, 
 passed, in silence, the north gate, accompanied by 
 many lords and gentlemen of the court, and followed 
 by a long train of equipages crowded with ladies. 
 The Duke of York, with most of the lords of the privy 
 council, remained behind ; some troops of horse, a 
 regiment of foot, and all the heavy ordnance, under 
 the command of the Earl of Peterborough, being left for 
 their defence. Charles gave orders, that the services 
 in his chapel at Christ Church should be continued on 
 Sundays and Tuesdays, as if he still were present. 
 Already, several weeks before, the queen had fled from
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 275 
 
 Oxford, to seek, in the loyal capital of Devonshire, a 
 retreat where the cradle of her expected royal infant 
 might be secure from the ungenial clangour of rebel 
 arms. 
 
 Marching between the two armies of the enemy, 
 the king arrived, by daybreak on the 4th of June, at 
 HanboroLigh; and, in the afternoon, at Burford, where 
 he halted. By this time, Waller had knoM'ledge of 
 his flight, and had pushed on in pursuit as far as 
 Witney ; when, presently, the scouts of the royal army 
 came galloping in with the intelligence ; a general cry 
 of " to horse ! to horse ! " was heard through the 
 town ; and Charles, with his sword drawn, was seen 
 riding about to hasten away his followers. At Eve- 
 sham he designed to rest ; but hearing that both 
 armies Avere pursuing by forced marches, he advanced 
 to Worcester. 
 
 Such, however, was not the fact; for, on arriving 
 at Burford, Essex resolved that Waller should pursue 
 the king, while he himself penetrated into the west, to 
 relieve Lyme, and reduce those loyal regions to the 
 power of the parliament. 
 
 To this arrangement Waller submitted with reluc- 
 tance, alleging against it a previous command of their 
 common masters, that if the two armies separated, the 
 west was to be assigned to himself ; but finding it 
 necessary to yield, he executed the order with charac- 
 teristic despatch. By the way, he took possession of 
 Sudley, the seat of the Lord Chandos ; and finding, on 
 his arrival at Worcester, that the king had marched 
 out to Bewdley, he concluded that Charles's object was
 
 276 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 to entrench himself within the walls of Shrewshnry, 
 and therefore advanced northward without resting, till 
 he had passed the royal army. In truth, Charles, as 
 his famous letter, written about this time to Prince 
 Rupert, evinces, was in the greatest perplexity, without 
 any fixed plan, having no other design in his marches 
 than merely to avoid his pursuer, " with whom he 
 could not, with such a handful of foot, and without 
 cannon, reasonably propose to fight." It is to the un- 
 fortunate monarch's condition at this time, that Claren- 
 don pathetically applies the complaint of King David, 
 when pursued by Saul, that he was hunted like " a 
 partridge on the mountains, and knew not whither to 
 resort, or to what place to repair to rest." Some of 
 those affecting incidents in the military life of the king, 
 which are preserved in the royal itinerary, quoted by 
 D'Israeli, apply to this period. The following appear 
 among the entries in that " brief chronicle." The king 
 and his party sometimes lodged in a bishop's palace, or 
 at the seat of a lord, at a country gentleman's, clergy- 
 man's, or merchant's abode ; but not unusually at a 
 yeoman's house ; and, on one occasion, the record says, 
 at " a very poor man's house." " Dinner in the field," 
 observes the pleasant commentator, is an usual entry, 
 but the melancholy one of ' no dinner this day,' is re- 
 peated for successive days. ' Sunday no dinner, supper 
 at Worcester — a cruel day.' 'This march lasted from 
 six in the morning till midnight.' ' His majesty lay 
 in the field all night, in his coach.' ' The king had 
 his meat and drink dressed at a poor widow's.' Such 
 was the life of Cliurlcs the First, during several years."
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MAESTON MOOR. 277 
 
 Finding that he had deceived Waller, the king now 
 marched back with all expedition to Worcester, thence 
 again to Evesham, and the same night to Broadway, 
 where he quartered his army. " From thence," says 
 Clarendon, in his picturesque narrative of this inter- 
 esting expedition, "they mounted the hills near Cam- 
 den ; and there they had time to breathe, and to look 
 down with pleasure on the places they had passed 
 through ; having now left Waller, and the ill ways he 
 must pass through, far behind ; for even in that season 
 of the year, the ways in that vale were very deep." 
 Charles now sent messengers to Oxford, with orders 
 to the troops left there to join him, with his cannon, 
 at Burford. The alacrity and joy evinced in obeying 
 this order, enhanced the satisfaction with which he 
 once more found himself in his old quarters, sur- 
 rounded by his loyal cavaliers, after a harrassing and 
 wearisome march of seventeen days; during which his 
 fortitude had been tried by "accidents and perplexi- 
 ties to which majesty has been seldom exposed," and 
 his abilities in the field put to a test which entitles 
 them to respect. 
 
 The king had no intention to remain idle. Having 
 shortly rested and recruited his army, he marched to 
 meet Waller, now on his return to seek him ; and, 
 upon the 28th of June, discovered that general's army, 
 which had by this time been strengthened by a rein- 
 forcement of about 1000 horse and foot from WarAvick 
 and Coventry, drawn up, in order of battle, at the 
 foot of a hill on the west of Banbury. Both parties 
 spent the night in the field, separated from each other
 
 278 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 by the river Charwell. The following clay occurred 
 the series of spirited skirmishes, known as the fight 
 at Copredy Bridge. The brunt of that irregular action 
 lay chiefly between the Earl of Cleveland, and Mid- 
 dleton, Waller's lieutenant-general. The ultimate 
 advantage was evidently on the royalist side; for 
 Waller lost all his ordnance, and was so weakened 
 by the capture and dispersion of his forces, that he 
 presently returned, without making any further attempt, 
 to London. The king, meantime, marched westward, 
 in pursuit of Essex. 
 
 The celebrated letter, already alluded to, in which 
 Charles, in great alarm at the intelligence from York, 
 " commanded and conjured " his nephew to march to 
 the relief of that city, found Rupert surrounded by a 
 fresh halo of military glory. A short time before, he 
 had relieved Newark, besieged by Sir John Meldrum — 
 one of the most brilliant exploits, of that kind, per- 
 formed in the whole war ; had taken Stockport, Bolton, 
 and Liverpool ; and had raised the siege of Lathom 
 House, the mansion of the Earl of Derby, so gal- 
 lantly defended against the parliament's forces, by the 
 countess. It is impossible, even in the midst of the 
 attraction and hurry of more important actions, to 
 omit, the particulars of this heroic defence. 
 
 The earl had gone over to protect his hereditary 
 dominions in the Isle of Man, from the threatened 
 invasion of the parliamentarians. Scarcely had he 
 reached the isle, when the countess, whom he had left 
 in charge of Lathom, received secret intelligence that 
 her house would shortly be attacked. She instantly
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 279 
 
 called in the aid of the gentlemen of the county, and 
 made all provisions requisite for a defence, with so 
 much secrecy and despatch, that when, shortly after- 
 wards, Fairfax appeared before the place, he was 
 surprised to find that resistance was contemplated. 
 He sent a trumpet to require a conference with the 
 countess; to this she agreed, but detained the mes- 
 senger, while, " to make the best show she could, she 
 placed her inefficient and unarmed men on the walls, 
 and tops of the towers, and marshalled all her soldiers 
 in good order, with their respective officers, from the 
 main guard in the first court to the great hall," 
 where she calmly awaited the visit of her enemy. 
 The meeting was conducted, on both sides, with 
 much courtesy and apparent respect. Fairfax pro- 
 posed to her an honourable and secure removal, with 
 her family and retinue, to Knowsley Hall ; an engage- 
 ment that she should remain there free from molesta- 
 tion; and half the earl's revenues for her support. 
 She replied, " I am here under a double trust — of 
 faith to my lord, and of allegiance to my king : give 
 me a month to consider my answer." Fairfax refused. 
 *' Then I hope, sir, that you will excuse me," rejoined 
 the countess, " if I preserve my honour and obedience, 
 though it be to my ruin." A fortnight passed, before 
 the general had decided on his method of attack. He 
 then sent in military form to demand an immediate 
 surrender. The countess answered, that "she had not 
 yet forgotten what she owed to the church of England, 
 to her prince, and to her lord ; and that till she had 
 lost her honour, or her life, she would defend that
 
 280 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 place." Scarcely had the besiegers begun their trenches, 
 when the noble lady ordered a body of 200 men to 
 sally out upon them, who slew sixty, and returned 
 with the loss of only two of their own party. The 
 assailants now proceeded more warily, but were so 
 often interrupted by the defenders, in the formation of 
 their lines, that little progress was made. At length, 
 after having spent three months before the place, they 
 apjiroached the moat, and planted a powerful battery. 
 Among the guns on this battery was a mortar of un- 
 usual dimensions. A shot thrown from this piece fell 
 into an apartment where the countess and her children 
 were at dinner. The heroine rose from the table, 
 ascertained that no one was hurt, and instantly ordered 
 another sally ; in which all the guns of the enemy were 
 spiked or flung into the moat, except the huge mortar, 
 which the brave garrison dragged in triumph into the 
 fortress. In the midst of incessant annoyance from 
 the enemy, the besiegers contrived to repair their 
 battery : the work was no sooner completed than they 
 were once more disjjersed, their cannon spiked, and 
 the intrepid party of royalists again retired, almost 
 unhurt, within their walls, leaving a hundred parlia- 
 mentarians dead upon the spot. In all these actions 
 the admirable countess encouraged the soldiers by her 
 presence, and frecpiently exposed herself to personal 
 danger. Nor did the inspiring example of her piety 
 less contribute to maintain their valour : no action was 
 attempted without previous prayer for success ; no 
 success was received without solemn thanksgiving. At 
 length Fairfax, accustomed to victory, lost all patience.
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTOK MOOR. 281 
 
 He now appointed Colonel Rig'by to conduct the siege, 
 whom his private enmity to the Earl of Derby recom- 
 mended to that office. The colonel made known his 
 arrival by a fresh summons to Lathom House to sur- 
 render. It was conveyed in insulting terms : " Trum- 
 peter," answered the countess to the messenger, " tell 
 that insolent rebel Rigby, that if he presume to send 
 another summons within these walls, I will have his 
 messenger hanged up at the gates." The garrison, 
 however, was by this time reduced to extremity ; when 
 they had the happiness to descry from their towers the 
 banners of Prince Rupert, who, on the earnest repre- 
 sentations of the Earl of Derby, had turned aside for 
 their relief in his march towards York. Rigby instantly 
 raised the siege, and retreated, with his forces, to 
 Stockport. 
 
 Prince Rupert had taken in so many reinforcements 
 in his way, that when, on the 1st of July, he came in 
 sight of York, his army numbered about 20,000 men. 
 The combined forces before that city broke up at his 
 approach, and after an attempt to intercept him, which 
 he avoided by a skilful disposition of his army, they 
 withdrew their forces to Hessey Moor, near the village 
 of Marston, where they met in a council of war to 
 deliberate what course should be pursued. Irrecon- 
 cilable jealousies and dissensions already distracted 
 the confederacy; and the question, whether they should 
 fight with the prince, which the English generals de- 
 sired; or draw off their armies from the neighbourhood 
 of the city, which the Scots were inclined to, seems 
 to have been practically decided by the advance of
 
 282 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 the Scotch army some miles on the road towards Tad- 
 caster. The deliberations on the great crisis that had 
 arrived, in the council of the Marquess of Newcastle, 
 within the walls of York, were marked by equal, and, 
 in their results, more fatal dissensions. The marquess, 
 in accordance with his higher views, and better know- 
 ledge of the state of the enemy's camp, delivered 
 his opinion, after his courteous and ceremonious man- 
 ner, for delay. Why renew, by instantly forcing on 
 a battle, that union already dissolving ? The mere 
 arrival of the prince was already doing the work of 
 the royalists, without risk ; the ripening of the enemy's 
 dissensions, by time, would soon accomplish the rest. 
 At least, let them avoid a battle till the arrival of rein- 
 forcements from the north, wliich he daily expected. 
 The haughty Rupert chafed equally at the calm, refined 
 tone, and the cold considerate advice : he would not 
 ai'gue the point. He liad a letter from the king, abso- 
 lutely commanding him to give the enemy battle. That 
 order superseded deliberation : he had only to obe}-. 
 The marquess replied, that if that was his highness's 
 resolve, he for his part, was ready to submit to his orders 
 as strictly as if they were the king's in person. After 
 the prince had retired, some of Newcastle's friends be- 
 sought him not to take part in the battle, since, it 
 appeared, the command was taken from him. His 
 reply was, that happen what might, he would not shun 
 an enfjagfement ; his sole ambition liavino- ever been to 
 live and die a loyal subject of the king. 
 
 Accordingly, early in the morning of the 2d, when 
 the foot and artillery of the parliament were already in
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 283 
 
 raotion to follow the Scots on the roads towards Tad- 
 caster, Rupert, with a powerful body of horse, ap- 
 pearing on the edge of Marston Moor, threatened their 
 rear, while the columns of his foot were seen in the 
 distance, steadily advancing, as if to choose their 
 ground for battle. At once the march of the parlia- 
 mentarians was countermanded, their advanced divi- 
 sions recalled, and a position taken as rapidly as 
 the nature of the ground permitted, fronting that 
 already occupied by the prince. The royalists being 
 in possession of the moor, the enemy drew up, among 
 cornfields, upon a rising ground, which skirted its 
 northern boundary; a ditch and slight embankment 
 running along between the opposed fronts of the two 
 hosts. 
 
 While Rupert waited the arrival of his infantry, 
 the parliamentarians formed in view. In the centre 
 rose the dense masses of their foot, commanded by 
 Lord Fairfax and the Earl of Leven. Sir Thomas 
 Fairfax, with his cavalry, formed the right wing, Man- 
 chester and Cromwell the left. The prince opposed 
 the great strength of his army to the columns of the 
 younger Fairfax, and there, at the head of his cavaliers, 
 selected his own position ; Goring and Sir Charles 
 Lucas he placed in the centre ; on the left, Newcastle 
 fought valiantly at the head of his devoted " white 
 coats," but what shai'e he took in the command is 
 uncertain. 
 
 For the narrative of the fatal fight of Marston 
 Moor, we recur to Mr. Forster's Life of Cromwell, 
 already quoted. Whether in regard to careful research
 
 284 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 among authorities, or to the vivid colouring which the 
 author has given to his vigorous conception, it is a pas- 
 sage that discourages rivalry. 
 
 " Gazing with silent and inveterate determination 
 at each other, these 46,000 subjects of one king, stood 
 upon Marston Moor, eight miles from a city wherein 
 every boom of the distant cannon would strike upon 
 the inhabitants as the death -knell of a friend or bro- 
 ther. The lines of the parliamentarians had begun to 
 form as early as ten in the morning — the royalists' 
 preparations were complete at five o'clock in the after- 
 noon — it was now within a quarter of seven. Yet 
 there still stood these formidable armies, each awaiting 
 from the other, with a silent and awful suspense, the 
 sional of battle. 
 
 " A stir was seen at last in the dark quarter of 
 Manchester's and Cromwell's Independents, and a 
 part of their infantry moved forwards. Secure from 
 behind the ditch, Rupert's musketeers at once poured 
 out upon the advancing column a heavy and mur- 
 derous fire, and it was in vain the parliamentarians at- 
 tempted to form under the plunging batteries directed 
 against them simultaneously from the rear. At that 
 moment was seen the genius of Cromwell. With a 
 passionate exclamation to his Ironsides, he ordered 
 them to sweep round the ditch to their right, clear 
 the broken ground, and fall in with himself upon the 
 cavalry of the dissolute Goring. The movement occu- 
 pied some time, and a fearful slaughter was meanwhile 
 suffered by Manchester's infantry ; but, having once 
 emerged, these inveterate republicans stood, for an
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 285 
 
 instant to receive, like a rock, the onset of Goring's 
 horse, and then " like a rock tumbled from its basis 
 by an earthquake," rolled back upon them. Nothing 
 could withstand the astonishing charge. The cavaliers 
 who survived, offered no further resistance, but wheeled 
 off to join the horse of Rupert. Cromwell and his men 
 next struck the guns and sabred the artillerymen be- 
 side them, and then, with as much leisurely order as at 
 parade, rode towards the drain. Every place was de- 
 serted as they advanced. One spot of ground only 
 still held upon it, for an instant, the Marquess of New- 
 castle's unflinching regiment of old tenants and re- 
 tainers, and was covered the instant after with an 
 " unbroken line" of honourable dead. Their victory 
 was complete, and the right wing of the royalists irre- 
 vocably broken. 
 
 " Rupert and his cavalry had meanwhile obtained as 
 great a victory on the left. The encumbered ground 
 on which Fairfax stood was most unfavourable to an 
 advancing movement. Rupert accordingly stood keenly 
 by till he saw the parliamentary forces stagger under 
 the heavy charges poured upon them as they emerged 
 in narrow columns through ditches and lanes, and 
 then, with his characteristic impetuosity, charged, over- 
 threw, routed and dispersed both foot and cavalry, with 
 tremendous slaughter. 
 
 " The after meeting of the two victors decided the 
 day. While the centres were unsteadily engaged, 
 Cromwell, who had held his triumphant Ironsides 
 steadily in hand, and checked their pursuit, in the 
 very nick of time ordered them suddenly to face
 
 286 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 round and wheel upon their centre to the left. Rupert 
 had given a similar order to his conquering cavalry 
 to wheel round on their centre to the right; and now 
 with a shock more terrihle than any of this terrible 
 day, these desperate leaders, each supposing himself 
 the victor, dashed each in front of a victorious foe ! 
 Cromwell received a wound in the neck, and the 
 alarm for his safety gave a slight appearance of mo- 
 mentary unsteadiness even to his gallant Ironsides, 
 but they rallied with redoubled fury, and, in con- 
 junction with Lesley, an accomplished Scotch officer, 
 who led up at the moment a brilliant attack, fairly 
 swept Rupert off the field. 
 
 " It was now ten o'clock, and by the melancholy 
 dusk which enveloped the moor, might be seen a 
 fearful sight. Five thousand dead bodies of English- 
 men lay heaped upon that fatal ground. The dis- 
 tinctions which separated in life these sons of a com- 
 mon country seemed trifling now ! The plumed hel- 
 met embraced the strong steel cap as they rolled on 
 the heath together, and the loose love-lock of the 
 careless cavalier lay drenched in the dark blood of the 
 enthusiastic republican. 
 
 " But it is not with such thoughts the victors trouble 
 themselves now. They have achieved the greatest 
 conquest of the war, and the whole of the northern 
 counties are open to the parliament's sway. The 
 headstrong Rupeit has received a memorable lesson, 
 and retreats in calanuty and disgrace towards Chester. 
 The Marquess of Newcastle, weary of a strife never 
 suited to his taste, but hateful to him now, crosses the
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1644 — MARSTON MOOR. 287 
 
 sea an exile. Fifteen hundred prisoners remain with 
 Manchester, Fairfax, Leven, and Cromwell ; the 
 valuable ordnance of the vanquished — artillery, small 
 arms, tents, baggage, and military chest — all have 
 been left in their victorious hands !" 
 
 Nearly a hundred colours are said to have been 
 captured, including the prince's own standard, bearing 
 a red cross, with the arms of the palatinate. Of some 
 others, the quaint devices displayed little taste or hu- 
 manity. Many of them the soldiers tore up, and stuck 
 the fragments for trophies in their caps. Others were 
 recovered, and forwarded to Westminster ; where, at 
 the reception of ambassadors from Holland, a ceremony 
 at which the houses affected unusual pomp, forty-eight 
 of these blood-stained ensigns of defeated royalty were 
 displayed upon the table to regale, perchance to awe, 
 those representatives of the maritime republic. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 FEINTED BY MOYES AND BAKCLAT, CASTLE STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE.
 
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