,!>iiv»MWMTinfwwt(rfitiwiiitifliflitiiii£^iiai r ''imm0 UC-NRLF MflRLe xrt. HRST % ■^HIWWHW icaKrg.' >jiM iii HJWHL. tHr^ uuiniu ii ii i 'inHm i i i M w i .4 *i THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA EDUC- PSYCH. LIBRARY GIFT OF Mrs. Harold Bruce cnarcti 1, ji6cc Charge of Cromwell's Horsemen. EDUC- PSYCH. LIBRARY RTFT J)Pr3r(. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. His Childhood and Youth PAQH 7 ^t CHAPTER II. The Expedition into Spain . . 25 f^^\^ ' CHAPTER III. Accession to the Throne . 45 CHAPTER IV. Buckingham . 65 CHAPTER V. The King and his Prerogative . . 89 CHAPTER VI. Archbishop Laud .... . Ill CHAPTER VII. The Earl of Strafford . . 132 CHAPTER VIII. Downfall of Strafford and Laud . 151 CHAPTER IX. Civil War . 171 CHAPTER X. The Captivity 195 CHAPTER XL Trial and Death .... . 215 w 053 Charles I. vi Charles I. passing through the streets of Loadon, ILLUSTRATIONS. Charge of Cromwell's Horsemen, Frontispiece, Charles I. Passing through London page vi Tailpiece . viii King Charles I. of England . I X Headpiece, Chapter I. . i 7 Coronation of King James I. of England, facing ' 8 Rejoicings at Windsor Castle a i ;6 Windsor Castle .... , ' 24 Headpiece, Chapter II. . ' 25 Explaining the Plan to King James, facing ' ' 30 Prince Charles Surprising the Infanta, i( i 40 Headpiece, Chapter III. , . ' 45 The Palace of the Escurial . facing ' 50 Landing of Henrietta Maria at Dover a i 62 Headpiece, Chapter IV. , , ' 65 Assassination of Buckingham facing ' 86 Buckingham Execrated by the Populace, . ' 88 Headpiece, Chapter V. , ' 89 Charles I. Leaving Parliament , . ' 110 Headpiece, Chapter VI. , . ' 111 Dr. Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, facing ' 114 Charles I. and his Council . ' 131 Headpiece, Chapter VII. . < 132 Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, facing * 134 Headpiece, Chapter VIII. . (vii) 151 VIU ILLUSTRATIONS. TheEarl of Strafford Going to his Trial facing page 156 The Tower of London . " 165 The Earl of Strafford Led to Execution, facing " 168 Taking the Oath . " 170 Headpiece, Chapter IX. " 171 King Charles I. and the Commons, facing "176 A Battle of the Civil War . . " " 186 An Incident in the Civil War facing " 192 Headpiece, Chapter X. . " 195 Oliver Cromwell .... facing " 202 Arrest of King Charles I. u u 204 Headpiece, Chapter XL . " 215 Painting the Children of Charles I., facing " 228 Execution of King Charles I. " " 232 Funeral of Charles I. . . " 235 INTRODUCTORY. Charles the First, of England, ascended the throne with very high ideas of the heredi- tary rights of his family, and the chief point of interest in the history of his reign is the contest in which he engaged with the English people to maintain them. For twenty-four years the struggle was maintained, and then came the day when the king stepped through a window of his banqueting hall in Whitehall Palace to a scaffold especially erected outside. When the head of the " Tyrant, traitor and murderer, Charles Stuart" was held up to general view amid a death-like stillness, men said kingship had been killed, and the people were to rule. But the great landlord power had to be grap- pled with, and that proved so strong that to establish a dictatorship under the Common- wealth's great general, Oliver Cromwell, seemed the only way to cope with it. A dictatorship could not endure, however, and with Cromwell's death it fell, and the old conditions of privilege were again set up. . ■>■/ Charles and Buckingham Explaining the Plan. THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 31 only plan which could bring the marriage treaty to a close. Besides, he said, if he and the prince were there, they could act far more effectually than any ambassadors in securing the restoration of the Palatinate to Frederic. James could not withstand these entreaties and arguments, and he finally gave a reluctant con- sent to the plan. He repented, however^ as soon as the con- sent was given, and when Charles and Buck- ingham came next to see him, he said it must be given up. One great source of his anxiety was a fear that his son might be taken and kept a prisoner, either in France or Spain, and detained a long time in captivity. Such a cap- tive was always, in those days, a very tempt- ing prize to a rival power. Personages of very high rank may be detained as captives, while all the time those who detain them may pre- tend not to confine them at all, the guards and sentinels being only marks of regal state, and indications of the desire of the power into whose hands they have fallen to treat them in a manner comporting with their rank. Then there were always, in those days, questions and disputes pending between the rival courts of England, France, and Spain, out of which it was easy to get a pretext for detaining any strolling prince who might cross the frontier, as security for the fulfilment of some stipula- 32 KING CHARLES T. tion, or for doing some act of justice claimed. James, knowing well how much faith and honor were to be expected of kings and courts, was afraid to trust his son in French or Span- ish dominions. He said he certainly could not consent to his going, without first sending to France, at least, for a safe-conduct — that is, a paper from the government, pledging the honor of tlu king not to molest or interrupt him in his journey through his dominions. Buckingham, instead of attempting to reas- sure the king by fresh arguments and persua- sions, broke out into a passion, accused him of violating his promise not to reveal their plan to any one, as he knew, he said, that this new opposition had been put into his head by some of his counselors to whom he had made known the design. The king denied this, and was terrified, agitated, and distressed by Bucking- fiam's violence. He wept like a child. His opposition at length gave way a second time, and he said they might go. They named two attendants whom they wanted to go with them. One was an officer of the king's liouse- hold, named Collington, who was then in the anteroom. They asked the king to call him in to see if he would go. When Collington came in, the king accosted him with, *^ Here's Steeny and Baby Charley that want to go to Spain and fetch the Infanta. What think you THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 33 of it ? " Collington did not think well of it at all. There followed a new relapse on the part of the king from his consent, a new storm of anger from Buckingliam, more sullen obsti- nacy on tlie part of Charles, with profane criminations and recriminations one against another. The whole scene was what, if it had occurred anywliere else tlian in a palace, would have beenj3alled a brawl. It ended, as brawls usually do, in the tri- umph of the most unreasonable and violent. James threw himself upon a bed wiiich was in the room, weeping bitterly, and saying that they would go, and he should lose his Baby Charley. Considering that Charles was now the monarch's only child remaining at home, and that, as heir to the crown, his life was of great consequence to the realm, it is not sur- prising that his father was distressed at the idea of his exposing himself to danger on such an expedition ; but one not accustomed to what is behind the scenes in royal life would expect a little more dignity and propriety in the mode of expressing paternal solicitude from a king. Charles and Buckingham set off secretly from London ; their two attendants were to join them in different places — the last at Do- ver, where tliey were to embark. They laid aside all marks of distinction in dress, such as persons Qt high ^ '' used tQ wear in those 34 KING CHARLES I. days, and took the garb of the common people. They put on wigs, also, the hair being very long, so as to shade the face and alter the ex- pression of their countenances. These exter- nal disguises, however, were all that they could command. They could not assume the modest and quiet air and manner of persons in the or- dinary walks of life, but made such displays, and were so liberal in the use of their money, and carried such an air and manner in all that they did and said, that all who had any inter- course with them perceived that they were in disguise. They were supposed to be wild blades, out on some frolic or other, but still they were allowed to pass along without any molestation. They were, however, stopped at Dover, where .in some way they attracted the atten- tion of the mayor of the town. Dover is on the Channel, opposite to Calais, at the narrow- est point. It was, of course, especially in those days, the point where the principal intercourse between the two nations centered. The mag- istrates of the two towns were obliged, conse- quently, to be on the alert, to prevent the es- cape of fugitives and criminals, as well as to guard against the efforts of smugglers, or the entrance of spies or other secret enemies. The Mayor of Dover arrested our heroes. They told him that their names were Toni Smith THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 35 and Jack Smith ; these, in fact, were the names with wliich they had traveled through England thus far. They said that they were traveling for amusement. The mayor did not believe tliem. He thought they were going across to the French coast to fight a duel. This was often done in those days. They then told him that they were indeed persons of rank in dis- guise, and that they were going to inspect the English fleet. He finally allowed them to em- bark. On landing at Calais, they traveled post to Paris, strictly preserving their incognito, but assuming such an air and bearing as to create the impression that they were not what they pretended. When they reached Paris, Buck- ingham could not resist the temptation of showing Charles a little of life, and he con- trived to get admitted to a party at court, where Charles saw, among other ladies who attracted his attention, the Princess Henrietta. He was much struck with her beauty and arace, but he little thought that it was this princess, and not the Infanta whom he was going in pursuit of, who was really to become his wife, and the future Queen of Eng- land. The young travelers thought it not prudent to remain long in Paris, and they accordingly left that city, and pressed forward as rapidly B6 KIKG CHARLES t. as possible toward the Spanish frontier. They managed, however, to conduct always in such a way as to attract attention. Although they were probably sincerely desirous of not having their true rank and character known, still they could not resist the temptation to assume such an air and bearing as to make people wonder who they were, and thus increase the spirit and adventure of their journey. At Bordeaux they received invitations from some grandees to be present at some great gala, but they de- clined, saying that they were only poor gentle- men traveling to inform their minds, and were not fit to appear in such gay assemblies. At last they approached Madrid. They had, besides Collington, another attendant who spoke the Spanish language, and served them as an interpreter. They separated from these two the day before they entered Madrid, so as to attract the less atttention. Their attend- ants were to be left behind for a day, and afterward were to follow them into the city. The name of the British ambassador at Madrid was the Earl of Bristol. He had had charge of all the negotiations in respect to the mar- riage, and to tlie restoration of the Palatinate, and believed that he had brought them almost to a successful termination. He lived in a palace in Madrid, and, as is customary with the ambassadors of great powers at the courts THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 37 of great powers, in a style of the highest pomp and splendor. Buckingham took the prince directly to Bristol's house. Bristol was utterly con- founded at seeing them. Nothing could be worse, he said, in respect to the completion of the treaty, than the prince's presence in Madrid. The introduction of so new and ex- traordinary an element into the affair would undo all that had been done, and lead the King of Spain to begin anew, and go over all the ground again. In speaking of this ocur- rence to another, he said that just as he was on the point of coming to a satisfactory con- clusion of his long negotiations and toils, a demon in the shape of Prince Charles came suddenly upon the stage to thwart and defeat them all. The Spanish court was famous in those days — in fact, it has always been famous — for its punctilious attention to etiquette and parade ; and as soon as the prince's arrival was known to the king, he immediately began to make preparations to welcome him with all possible pomp and ceremony. A great procession was made through the Prado, which is a street iu Madrid famous for promenades, processions, and public displays of all kinds. In moving through the city on tliis occasion, the king and Prince Charles walked together, the monarch 38 KING CHARLES I. thus treating the prince as his equal. There was a great canopy of state borne over their heads as they moved along. This canopy was supported by a large number of persons oi' the highest rank. The streets, and the windows and balconies of the houses on each side, were thronged with spectators, dressed in the gay and splendid court dresses of those times. When they reached the end of the route, and were about to enter the gate of the palace, there was a delay to decide which should enter first, the king and the prince each insisting on giving the precedence to the other. At last it was settled by their both going in together. If the prince thus, on the one hand, derived some benefit in the gratification of his pride by the Spanish etiquette and parade, he suf- fered some inconvenience and disappointment from it, on the other hand, by its excluding him from all intercourse or acquaintance with the Infanta. It was not proper for the young man to see or to speak to the young lady, in such a case as this, until the arrangements had been more fully matured. The formalities of the engagement must have proceeded beyond the point which they had yet reached, before the bridegroom could be admitted to a per- sonal interview with the bride. It is true, he could see her in public, where she was in a crowd, with other ladies of the court, and. THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 39 where he could have no communication with her ; but this was all. They arranged it, how- ever, to give Charles as many opportunities of this kind as possible. They got up shows in which the prince could see the Infanta among the spectators ; and they arranged tiltings and ridings at the ring, and other athletic sports, such a^. Charles excelled in, and let him per- form ills exploits in her presence. His rivals in these contests did not have the incivility to conquer him, and his performances excited ex- pressions, at least, of universal admiration. But the prince and Buckingham did not very willingly submit to the stiffness and for- mality of the Spanish court. As soon as they came to feel a little at home, they began to act with great fi'eedom. At one time the prince learned that the Infanta was going, early in the morning, to take a walk in some private pleas- ure grounds, at a country house in the neigh- borhood of Madrid, and he conceived the de- sign of gaining an interview with her there by stealth. He accordingly repaired to the place, got admitted in some way within the precincts of the palace, and contrived to clamber over a high wall which separated him from the grounds in which the Infanta w^s walking, and so let himself down into her presence. The accounts do not state whetlier she herself was pleased or alarmed, but the officer who had her in charge. 40 KING CHARLES I. an old nobleman, was very niucli alarmed, and begged the prince to retire, as he himself would be subject to a very severe punishment if it were known that he had allowed such an inter- view. Finally they opened the door, and the prince went out. Many people were pleased with this and similar adventures of the prince and of Buckingham, but the leading persons about the court were displeased with them. Their precise and formal notions of propriety were very much shocked by such freedoms. Besides, it was soon found that the charac- ters of these high-born visitors, especially that of Buckingham, were corrupt, and their lives very irregular. Buckingham was accustomed to treat King James in a very bold, familiar, and imperious manner, and he fell insensibly into the same habits of intercourse with those about him in Spain. The little reserve and caution which he manifested at first sooii wore otf, and he began to be very generally disliked. In the mean time, the negotiation was, as Bris- tol had expected, very much put back by the prince's arrival. The King of Spain formed new plans, and thought of new conditions to impose. The Catholics, too, thought that Charles's coming thus into a Catholic country, indicated some leaning, on his part, toward the Catholic faith. The Pope actually wrote him a long letter, the object of which was to Charleii J./uce p. MJ VviuQ^ Ciiarles burprieing the Infanta. THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 4l draw him off from the ranks of Protestantism. Charles wrote a civil, but rather an evasive reply. In the mean time* King James wrote childish letters from time to time to his two dear boys, as he called them, and he sent them a great many presents of jewelry and splendid dresses, some for them to wear themselves, and some for the prince to offer as gifts to the Infanta. Among these, he describes in one of his letters, a little mirror, set in a case which was to be worn hung at the girdle. He wrote to Charles that when he gave this mirror to the Infanta, he must tell her that it was a picture which he had had imbued with magical virtue by means of incantations and charms, so that whenever she looked into it, she would see a portrait of the most beautiful princess in England, France, or Spain. At last the great obstacle in the way of the conclusion of the treaty of marriage, which consisted in the delays and difficulties in getting the Pope's dispensation, was removed. The dispensation came. But then the King of Spain wanted some new guarantees in respect to the privileges of Catholics in England, under pretense of securing more perfectly the rights of the Infanta and of her attendants when they should have arrived in that country. The truth was, he probably wanted to avail himself 4— Cbarlen I. 42 KING CHARLES I. of tlie occasion to gain some foothold for the Catliolic faith in England, which country had become almost entirely Protestant. At length, however, all obstacles seemgd to be removed, and the treaty was signed. The news of it was received with great joy in England, as it seemed to secure a permanent alliance between the two powerful countries of England and Spain. Great celebrations took place in Lon- don, to do honor to the occasion. A chapel was built for the Infanta, to be ready for her on her arrival ; and a fleet was fitted out to convey her and her attendants to her new home. In the riean time^ however, although the king had signed the treaty, there was a strong party formed against the marriage in Spain. Buckingham was hated and despised. Charles, they saw, was almost entirely under his influ- ence. They said they would rather see the Infanta in her grave than in the hands of such men. Buckingham became irritated by the hostility he had awakened, and he determined to break off the match entirely. He wrote home to James that he had no idea that the Spanish court had any intention of carrying the arrangement really into effect ; that they were procrastinating the affair on every possi- ble pretext, and that he was really afraid that, if the prince wer^ to attempt to lej^ve the qovlu- THE EXPEDITION INTO SPAIN. 43 try, they would interpose and detain him as a prisoner. King James was very much ahirmed. lie wrote in the greatest trepidation, urging *^ the hids " to come away immediately, leaving a proxy behind them, if necessary, for the solemnization of the marriage. Tliis was what Buckingham wanted, and lie and the prince began to make preparations for their de- parture. The King of Spain, far from interposing any obstacles in the way, only treated them with greater and higher marks of respect as the time of their separation from his court drew nigh. lie arranged great and pompous cere- monies to honor their departure, lie accom- panied them, with all the grandees of the court, HA far as to the Escurial, wliicli is a famous royal palace not far from Madrid, built and furnished in the most sumptuous style of mag- nificence and sjilendor. Here they had part- ing feasts and celebrations. Here the prince took Ids leave of the Infanta, Bristol serving as interpreter, to translate his parting speeches into Spanish, so that she could understand thom. From the Escurial the prince and Buck- ingham, witli a great many English noblemen who had followed them to Madrid, and a groat train of attendants, traveled toward the sea- coast, where a fleet of vessels were ready to receive them. 44 KING CHARLES I. They embarked at a port called St. Andrew. They came very near being lost in a storm of mist and rain which came upon them while going out to the ships, which were at a dis- tance from the shore, in small boats provided to convey them. Having escaped this danger they arrived safely at Portsmouth, the gre^:? landing point of the British navy on the south- ern shores of England, and thence proceeded to London. They sent back orders that 6he proxy should not be used, and the match wa' finally abandoned, each party accusing thtr other of duplicity and bad faith. King James was, however, very glad to get his son safe back again, and the people made as mary bonfires and illuminations to celebrate the breaking up of this Catholic match, as they had done before to do honor to its supposed completion. As all hope of recovering the Palatinate by negotiation was now past, the king began to prepare for the attempt to re- conquer it by force of arms. ^•|;t;|i;|f;:i.;<«rep^ CHAPTER III. ACCESSION^ TO THE THRONE. King James made slow progress in his mill tary preparations. He could not raise the funds without the action of Parliament, and the houses were not in very good humor. The expenses of the prince's visit to Spain had been enormous, and other charges, arising out of the pomp and splendor with which the ar- rangements of the court were maintained, gave tliem a little feeling of discontent. They had other grievances of which they were disposed to complain, and they began to look upon this war, notwithstanding its Protestant character, as one in which the king was only striving to recover his son-in-law's dominions, and, con- sequently, as one which pertained more to his personal interests tlian to the public welfare of the realm. While things were in this state the king fell sick. The mother of the Duke of Bucking- ham undertook to prescribe for him. It was understood that Buckingham himself, who 45 46 KING CHARLES 1. had, ill the course of the Spanish enterprise, and since his return, acquired an entire ascend- ency over Charles, was not unwilling that his old master should leave the stage, and the younger one reign in his stead ; and that his mother shared in this feeling. At any rate, her prescriptions made the king much worse. He had the sacrament administered to him in his sick chamber, and said that lie derived great comfort from it. One morning, very early, he sent for the prince to come and see him. Charles rose, dressed himself, and came. His father had something to say to him, and tried to speak. He could not. His strength was too far gone. He fell back upon his pil- low, and died. Cliarles was, of course, now king. The theory in the English monarchy is, that the king never dies. So soon as the person in whom the royal sovereignty resides ceases to breathe, the principle of supremacy vests im- mediately in his successor, by a law of trans- mission entirely independent of the will of man. The son becomes king by a divine right. His being proclaimed and crowned, as he usu- ally is, at some convenient time early in his reign, are not ceremonies wliich make him king. They only acknowledge him to be so. He does not, in any sense, derive his powers and prerogatives from tliese acts. He only re- ACCESSION TO TJIE THltONE. 47 ceives from liis people, by meuns of them, a recognition of his right to the high office to which he has already been inducted by the fiat of Heaven. It will be observed, thus, that the ideas which prevailed in respect to the nature and province of government, were very different in England at that time from those which are entertained in America at the present day. With us, the administration of government is merely a business, transacted for the benefit of the people by their agents — men who are put in power for this purpose, and who, like otiier agents, are responsible to their principals for the manner in which they fulfil their trusts. But government in England was, in the days of the Stuarts — and it is so to a great extent at the present day — a right which one family possessed, and which entitled that family to certain immunities, powers, and prerogatives, which they held entirely independent of any desire, on the part of the people, that they should exercise them, or even their consent i\\ixi they should do so. The right to govern the realm of Great Britain was a sort of estate which descended to Charles from his ancestors, and with the possession and enjoyment of which the community Iiad no right to inter- fere. This seems, at first view, very absurd to us, 48 KING CHARLES I. but it is not particularly absurd, Charles's lawyers would say to any plain proprietor of a piece of land, who might call in question his right to govern the country, the king holds his crown by precisely the same tenure tliat ycu hold your farm. Why should you be the ex- clusive possessor of that land, while so many poor beggars are starving ? Because it has de- scended to you from your ancestors, and noth- ing has descended to them. And it is precisely so that the right to manage the fleets and armies, and to administer the laws of the realm, has descended, under tlie name of sovereignty, to him, and no such political power has de- scended to you. True, the farmer would reply ; but in mat- ters of government we are to consider what will promote the general good. The great ob- ject to be attained is the welfare and happiness of the community. Now, if this general wel- fare comes into competition with tlie supposed rights of individuals, arising from such a prin- ciple as hereditary succession, the latter ought certainly to yield. But why, might the lawyer reply, should rights founded on hereditary succession yield any more readily in the case of governmeiti than in the case of property f The distribution of property influences the general welfare q n i te as much as the management of power. Sup- ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 49 pose it were proved that the general welfare of your parish would be promoted by the divisiou of your land among the destitute there. You have nothing to oppose to such a proposition but vour hereditary right. And the king has that to oppose to any plan of a division of his prerogatives and powers among the people who would like to share them. Whatever may be thought of this reasoning on this side of the Atlantic, and at the present day, it was considered very satisfactory in England two or three centuries ago. The true and proper jurisdiction of an English monarch, as it had existed from ancient times, was con- sidered as an absolute right, vesting in each successive inheritor of the crown, and which the community could not justly interfere with or disturb for any reasons less imperious than such as would authorize an interference with the right of succession to private property. Indeed, it is probable that, with most men at that time, an inherited right to govern was re- garded as the most sacred of the two. The fact seems to be, that the right of a son to come into the place of his father, whether in respect to property, power, or social rank, is not a natural, inherent, and indefeasible right, but a privilege which society accords, as a mat- ter of convenience and expediency. In Eng- land, expediency is, on the whole, considered 50 KING CHARLES I. to require that all three of these things, viz., pro^Derty, rank, and power, in certain cases, should descend from father to son. In this country, on the other hand, we confine the he- reditament to property, abrogating it in the case of rank and power. In neither case is there probably any absolute natural right, but a conventional right is allowed to take its place in one, or another, or all of these particulars, according to the opinion of the community in respect to what its true interests and the gen- eral welfare, on the whole, require. The kings themselves of this Stuart race — which race includes Mary Queen of Scots, the mother of the line, and James I., Charles I., Charles II., and James II. — entertained very high ideas of these hereditary rights of theirs to govern the realm of England. They felt a determination to maintain these rights and powers at all hazards. Charles ascended the throne with these feelings, and the chief point of interest in the history of his reign is the contest in which he engaged with the English people in his attempts to maintain them. The body with which the king came most immediately into conflict in this long struggle were the two houses of Parliament. And here American readers are very liable to fall into a mistake by considering the houses of Parlia- ineiit as analogous to the houses of legislatioii ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 51 in the various governments of this country. In our governments the chief magistrate has only to execute definite and written laws and ordinances, passed by the Legislature, and which the Legislature may pass with or with- out his consent ; and when enacted, he must be governed by them. Thus the president or the governor is, in a certain sense, the agent and officer of the legislative power of the state, to carry into effect its decisions, and this legislative power has really the control. By the ancient Constitution of England, however, the Parliament was merely a body of counselors, as it were, summoned by the king to give him their advice, to frame for him such laws as he wanted to have framed, and to aid him in raising funds by taxing the peo- ple. The king might call this council or not, as he pleased. There was no necessity for call- ing it unless he needed more funds than he could raise by his own resources. When called, they felt that they had come, in a great meas- ure, to aid the king in doing his will. AVhen they framed a law, they sent it to him, and if he was satisfied with it, he made it law. It was the king who really enacted it. If he did not approve the law, he wrote upon the parchment which contained it, '* The king will think of it," and that was the end. The king would call upon them to assess a tax and collect the 52 KING CHARLES I. money, and would talk to them about his plans, and his government, and the aid which he wanted from them to enable him to accomplish what he had himself undertaken. In fact, the king was the government, and the houses of Parliament his instruments to aid him in giving effect to his decrees. The nobles, that is, the heads of the great families, and also the bishops, who were the heads of the various dioceses of the Church, formed one branch of this great council. This was called the House of Lords. Certain repre- sentatives of the counties and of thf towns formed another branch, called the House of Commons. These delegates came to the coun- cil, not from any right which the counties and towns were supposed to possess to a share in the government, but simply because they were summoned by the king to come and give him their aid. They were to serve without pay, as a matter of duty which they owed to the sov- ereign. Those that came from counties were called knights, and those from the towns bur- gesses. These last were held in very little es- timation. The towns, in those days, were considered as mere collections of shopkeepers and tradesmen, who were looked down upon with much disdain by the haughty nobles. \Yhen the king called his Parliament together, and went in to address them^ he entered the ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 53 chamber of the House of Peers, and tlie com- mons were called in, to stand where they could, witli their heads uncovered, to hear what he had to say. They were, in a thousand other ways, treated as an inferior class ; but still their counsels might, in some cases, be of serv- ice, and so they were summoned to attend, though they were to meet always, and deliber- ate, in a separate chamber. As the king could call the Parliament to- gether at any time and place he pleased, so he could suspend or terminatD their sittings at any time. He could intermit the action of a Par- liament for a time, sending the members to their homes until he should summon tht^m again. This was called npi'orogafion. Or he could dissolve the body entirely at any time, and then require new elections for a new Par- liament whenever he wanted to avail himself of the wisdom or aid of such a body again. Thus everything went on the supposition that the real responsibility for the government was with the king. lie was the monarch, and the real sovereignty vested in him. lie called his nobles, and a delegation from the mass of the people, together, whenever he wanted their help, and not otherwise. Tie was responsible, not to them nor to the peoi)le at large, but to God only, for the r.cts of his administration. The duty cf rarlianient was limited to that of 54 KING CHARLES I. aiding him in carrying out' his plans of gov- ernment, and the people had nothing to do but to be obedient, submissive, and loyal. These were, at any rate, the ideas of the kings, and all the forms of the English Constitution, and the ancient phraseology in which the transac- tions are expressed, correspond with them. AVe cannot give a better proof and illustra- tion of what has been said than by transcrib- ing the substance of one of King James's mes- sages to his Parliament, delivered about the close of his life, and, of course, at the period of which we are writing. It was as follows : ** My Lords spiritual and temporal, and you the Commons : In my last Parliament I made long dis- courses, especially to them of the Lower House. I did open the true thought of my heart. But I may say with our Saviour, ' I have piped to you and ye have not danced ; I have mourned to you and you have not lamented ; ' so all my sayings turned to me again without any success. And now, to tell the reasons of your calling and of this meeting, apply it to yourselves, and spend not the time in long speeches. Consider that the Parliament is a thing composed of a head and a body ; the monarch and the two estates. It was, first, a monarchy ; then after, a Parliament. There are no Parliaments but in monarchical governments ; for in Venice, the Netherlands, and other free governments there are none. The head is to call the body together ; and for the clergy the bishops are chief, for shires their knights, for towns and cities their burgesses and ACCESSION TO THE THIIONE. bb citizens. These are to treat of difficult matters, and counsel their king with their best advice to make laws* for the commonweal; and tl)e Lower House is also to petition the king and acquaint him with their grievances, and not to meddle with the king's prerogative. They are to offer supply for his neces- sity, and he to distribute, in recompense thereof, justice and mercy. As in all Parliaments it is the king's office to make good laws, whose fundamenta-1 cause is tlie people's ill manners, so at this time. " For a supply to my necessities, I have reigned- eighteen years, in which I liave had peace, and I liave received far less supply than hath been given to any king since the Conquest. The last queen had, one year with another, above a hundred thousand pounds })er annum in subsidies; and in all my time 1 have had but four subsidies! and six fif- teens, f It is ten years since I had a subsidy, in all which time I have been sparing to trouble you. I have turned myself as nearly to save expenses as I may. 1 have abated much in my household ex- })enses, in my navies, and the charge of my mu- nition.'' Aftor speaking about tlie affairs of the Pa- latinate, and calling upon tlie Parliament to furnish him with money to recover it for his son-in-law, he adds : •* Consider the trade for the making thereof better, * Meaning advice to him how he shall make laws i is evident from what is said below, f Species of taxes granted by Parliament. 66 KING CHAKLES I. and show me the reason why my mint, these eight or nine years, hath not gone. I confess I have been liberal in my grants ; but if I be informed, I will amend all hurtful grievances. But whoever shall hasten after grievances, and desire to make himself popular, he hath the spirit of Satan. I was, in my first Parliament, a novice ; and in my last, there was a kind of beasts, called vndertakers, a dozen of whom undertook to govern the last Parliament, and they led me. I shall thank you for your good office, and desire that the wcvld may say well of our agree- ment." This kind of harangue from the king to his Parliament seems not to have been considered, at tlie time, at all extraordinary ; though, if such a message were to be sent at the present day, by a President of the United States to the houses of Congress, we think it would make a sensation. Still, notwithstanding what we have said,, the Parliament did contrive gradually to at- tain to the possession of some privileges and powers of its own. The English people liave a great deal of independence and spirit, thougli Americans traveling there, with ideas carried from this country, are generally surprised at finding so little instead of so much. Tlie knights and burgesses of the House of Com- mons, though they submitted patiently to the forms of degradation which the lords and kings imposed upon tliem, gradually got pos- ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 57 session of certain powers wliich they claimed as their own, and wliich they showed a strong disposition to defend. They claimed the ex- elusive right to lay taxes of every kind. This had been the usage so long, that they luid tlie same right to it that the king had to his crown, They had a riglit, too, to petition tlie king for a redress of any grievances wliicl: they supposed -tho people were suffering under his reign. These, and certain other powers and immunities wliich they had possessed, were called their 2^rivileffes. Tlie king's rights were, on the other hand, called his j)rero(/atioes. The Parliament were always endeavoring to extend, define, and establish their privileges. The king was equally bent on maintaining his ancient prerogatives. King Charles's reign derives its chief interest from the long and insane contest which he waged with his Par- liament on this question. The contest com- menced at the king's accession to the throne, and lasted a quarter of a century : it ended with his losing all his prerogatives and his head. This circumstance, that the main interest in King Charles's reign is derived from his contest with his Parliament, has made it necessary to explain somewhat fully, as we have done, the nature of that body. We have described it as it was in the days of the 58 KING CHARLES I. Stuarts ; but, in order not to leave any wrong impression on the mind of the reader in re- gard to its present condition, we must add, that though all its external forms remain the same, the powers and functions of the body have greatly changed. The despised and con- temned knights and burgesses, that were not worthy to have seats provided for them when the king was delivering them his speech, now rule the world ; or, at least, come nearer to the possession of that dominion than any other power has ever done, in ancient or modern times. They decide Avho shall administer the government, and in what way. They make the laws, settle questions of trade and com- merce, decide really on peace and war, and, in a word, hold the whole control, while the nominal sovereign takes rides in the royal parks, or holds drawing-rooms in the palaces, in empty and powerless parade. There is no question that the British House of Commons has exerted a far wider influence on the desti- nies of the human race than any other govern- mental power that has ever exisited. It has gone steadily on for five, and perhaps for ten centuries, in the same direction and toward the same ends ; and whatever revolutions may threaten other elements of European power, the British House of Commons, in some form or other, is as sure as anything human can be of ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 59 existence and power for five or ten centuries to come. ' And yet it is one of the most remarkable of the strange plienomena of social life, that this body, standing at the head, as it really does, of all human power, submits patiently still to all the marks and tokens of inferiority and degradation wliich accompanied its origin. It comestogetlier when the sovereign sends writs, ordering the several constituencies to choose their representatives, and the representatives to assemble. It comes humbly into the House of Peers to listen to the instructions of the sovereign at the opening of the session, the members in a standing position, and with heads uncovered.* It debates these suggestions with forms and in a phraseology which im- ply that it is only considering what cotinsel to give the king. It enacts nothing — it only recommends ; and it holds its existence solely at the discretion of the great imaginary power which called it into being. These forms may, very probably, soon be changed for others more true to the facts ; and the principle of election may be changed, so as to make the *Even in the case of a committee of conference between tlie two houses, the lords have seats in the committee-room, and wear their hats. The mem- bers from the commons must stand, and be uncov- ered during the deliberations. 60 KING CHARLES t. body represent more fully the general popula- tion of the empire ; but the body itself will doubtless continue its action for a very long period to come. According to the view of the subject which we have presented, it would of course follow, as the real sovereignty was mainly in the king's hands, that at the death of one monarch and the accession of another, the functions of all officers holding their places under the authority of the former would ex- pire. This was actually the case. And it shows how entirely the Parliament was considered as the instrument and creation of the king, that on the death of a king, the Parliament immediately expired. The new monarch must make a new Parliament if he wished one to help him carry out his own plans. In the same manner almost all other offices expired. As it would be ex- tremly inconvenient or impossible to appoint anew all the officers of such a realm on a sud- den emergency, it is usual for the king to issue a decree renewing the appointments of the ex- isting incumbents of these offices. Thus King Charles, two days after his father's death, made it his first act to renew the appointments of the members of his father's privy council, of the foreign ambassadors, and of the judges of the courts, in order that the affairs of the em- ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 61 pire might go on witliout interruption. He also issued summonses for calling a Parlia- ment, and then made arrangements for the solemnization of his father's funeral. The scene of these transactions was what was, in those days, called Westminster. Min- ster means cathedral. A cathedral church had been built, and an abbey founded, at a short distance west from London, near the mouth of the Thames. The church was called the West minster, and the abbey, Westminster Abbey. The town afterward took the same name. The street leading to the city of London from West- minster was called the Strand ; it lay along the shore of the river. The gate by which the city of London was entered on this side was called Temple Bar, on account of a building just within the walls, at that point, which was called the Temple. In process of time, London ex- panded beyond its bounds and spread westward. The Strand became a magnificent street of shops and stores, AVestminster was filled with palaces and houses of tlie nobility, the whole region being entirely covered with streets and edifices of the greatest magnificence and splen- dor. Westminster is now called the West End of London, though the jurisdiction of the city still ends at Temple Bar. Parliament held its sessions in a building near the shore, called St. Stephen's, The king's 62 KING CHARLES I. palace, called St. James's Palace, was near. The old church became a place of sepulture foi the English kings, where a long line of them now repose. The palace of King James's wife, Anne of Denmark, was on the bank of the river, some distance down the Strand. She called it, during her life, Denmark House, in honor of her native land. Its name is now Somerset House. King James's funeral was attended with great pomp. The body was conveyed from Somerset House to its place of repose in the Abbey, and attended by a great procession. King Charles walked as chief mourner. Two earls attended him, one on each side, and the train of his robes was borne by twelve peers of the realm. The expenses of this funeral amounted to a sum equal to two hundred thou- sand dollars. One thing more is to be stated before we can consider Charles as fairly entered upon his career, and that is the circumstance of his mar- riage. His father, James, so soon as he found the negotiations with Spain must be finally abandoned, opened a new negotiation with the King of France for his daughter Henrietta Maria. After some delay, this arrangement was concluded upon. The treaty of marriage was made, and soon after the old king's death, Charles began to think of bringing home hi? bride. LiiuUing (ji llenric'tta Maria at Dover. ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 63 He accordingly made out a commission for a nobleman, appointed for the purpose, to act in his name, in the performance of the ceremony at Paris. The Pope's dispensation was obtained, Henrietta Maria, as well as the Infanta, being a . Catholic. The ceremony was performed, as such ceremonies usually were in Paris, in the famous church of Xotre Dame, where Charles's grandmother, Mary Queen of Scots, had been married to a prince of France about seventy years before. There was a great theater, or platform, erected in front of the altar in the church, which was thronged by the concourse of spec- tators Avho rushed to witness the ceremony. The beautiful princess was married by proxy to a man in another kingdom, whom she had never seen, or, at least, never known. It is not probable that she observed him at the time when he was, for one evening, in hsr presence, on his journey through Paris. The Duke of Buckingham had been sent over by Charles to conduct home his bride. Ships were waiting at Boulogne, a port nearly opposite to Dover, to take her and her attendants on board. She bade farewell to the palaces of Paris, and set out on her journey. The king, in the mean time, had gone to Dover, where he awaited her arrival. She .landed at Dover on the day 3fter sailing from 64 HING CHARLES I. Boulogne, sea-sick and sad. The king received his bride, and with their attendants they went by carriages to Canterbury, and on the follow- ing day they entered London. Great prepara- tions had been made for receiving the king and his consort in a suitable manner ; but London was, at this time, in a state of great distress and fear on account of the plague which had broken out there. The disease had increased during the king's absence, and the alarm and anxiety were so great, that the rejoicings on account of the arrival of the queen were omit- ted. She journeyed quietly, therefore, to Westminster, and took up her abode at Somer- set House, which had been the residence of her predecessor. They had fitted it up for hor reception, providing for it, among other con- veniences, a Eoman Catholic chapel, where she could enjoy the services of religion ir. thelirms to which she had been accustomed. CHAPTER IV. BUCKINGHAM. Charles commenced his reign in 1625. Tie continued to reign about twenty-four years, Jt will assist the reader to receive and retain in mind a clear idea of the course of events during his reign, if we regard it as divided into tliree periods. During the first, which con- tinued about four years, Charles and the Par- liament were both upon the stage, contending with each other, but not at open war. Each party managed, and maneuvered, and struggled to gain its own ends, the disagreement widen- ing and deepening continually, till it ended in an open rupture, when Charles abandoned the plan of having Parliaments at all, and at- tempted to govern alone. This attempt to manage the empire without a legislature lasted for ten years, and is the second period. After this a parliament was called, and it soon made itself independent of the king, and became hostile to him, tlie two powers being at open war, which constitutes tlie third period. Thus 60 66 KING CHARLES I. we have four years spent in getting into the quarrel between the king and Parliament, ten years in an attempt by the king to govern alono, and, finally, ten years of war, more or less open, the king on one side, and the Parlia- ment on the other. The first four years — that is, the time spent in getting really into the quarrel with Parlia- ment, was Buckingham's work, for during that time Buckingham's influence • with the king was paramount and supreme ; and whatever was done that was important or extraordinary, though done in the king's name, really origi- nated in him. The whole country knew this, and were indignant that such a man, so un- principled, so low in character, so reckless, and so completely under the sway of his im- pulses and passions, should have such an influ- ence over the king, and, through him, such power to interfere with and endanger the mighty interests of so vast a realm. It must not be supposed, however, in conse- quence of what has been said about the extent of the regal power in England, that the daily care and responsibility of the affairs of govern- ment, in its ordinary administration, rested directly upon the king. It is not possible that any one mind can even comprehend, far less direct, such an enormous complication of inter- ests and of action as is involved in the carrying BUCKINGHAM. 67 ing on, from day to day, the government of an empire. Offices, authorities, and departments of administration spring up gradually, and all tlie ordinary routine of the affairs of the empire are managed by them. Thus the navy was all completely organized, with its gradations of rank, its rules of action, its records, its account books, its offices and arrangements for provi- sionment and supply, the whole forming a vast system which moved on of itself, whether tlie king were present or absent, sick or well, living or dead. It was so with the army ; it was so with the courts ; it was so with the general administration of the government at London. The immense mass of business which consti- tuted the work of government was all system- atized and arranged, and it moved on regu- larly, in the hands of more or less prudent and careful men, who governed, themselves, by ancient rules and usages, and in most cases managed wisely. Everything, however, was done in the king's name. The ships were his majesty's ships, the admirals were his majesty's servants, the war was his majesty's war, the court was the King's Bench. The idea was, that all these thousands of officers, of all ranks and grades, were only an enormous multiplication of his majesty ; that they might do his will and carry on his administration as he would himself carry 68 KING CHARLES I. it on were he personally capable of attending to such a vast detail ; subject, of course, to cer- tain limits and restrictions which the laws and customs of the realm, and the promises and contracts of his predecessors had imposed. But although all this action was theoretically the king's action, it came to be, in fact, almost wholly independent of him. It went on of it- self, in a regular and systematic way, pursuing its own accustomed course, except so far as the king directly interposed to modify its action. It might be supposed that the king would certainly take the general direction of affairs into his own hands, and that this charge, at least, would necessarily come upon him, as king, day by day. Some monarchs have at- tempted to do this, but it is obvious that there must be some provision for having this general charge, as well as all the subordinate functions of government, attended to independently of the king, as his being always in a condition to fulfill this duty is not to be relied upon. Sometimes the king is young and inexperienced ; sometimes he is sick or absent ; and some- times he is too feeble in mind, or too indolent, or too devoted to his pleasures to exercise any governmental care. There has gradually grown up, therefore, in all monarchies, the custom of having a central board of officers of state, whom the king appoints, and who takes BUCKINGHAM. 69 the general direction of affairs off his mind, except so far as he chooses to interfere. This board, in England, is called the Privy Council. The Privy Council in England is a body of great importance. Its nature and its functions are, of course, entirely different from those of the two houses of Parliament. They repre- sent, or are intended to represent, the nation. The Parliament is, in theory, the nation, as- sembled at the king's command, to give him their advice. The Privy Council, on the other hand, represents the king. It is tho king's Privy Council. They act in his name. They follow his directions when he ciioopes to give any. Whatever they decide npon and decree, the king signs — often, indeed; without any idea of what it is ; but he 3t^ll "jigns it, and all such decrees go forth t^ the world as the king's orders in council. The Privy Council, of course, would h«\Te its meetings, its officers, its records,, its Ttiles of proceeding, and its various nsagcR, ^nd these grew, in time, to be laws and t\\r\\i'^ \ but still it was, in theory, only a sort of t'xpansion of the king, as if to make a kind Tvf artificial being, with one soul, but many heads and hands, because no natural human being could possibly have capacities and powers extensive and multifarious enough for the exi- gencies of reigning. Charles thus had a coun- cil who went on with everything, except so far t>— Obarle» I. 70 KING CHARLES I. as he chose to interpose. The members were generally able and experienced men. And yet Buckingham was among them. He had been made Lord High Admiral of England, which gave him supreme command of the navy, and admitted him to the Privy Council. The^e were very high honors. This Privy Council now took the direction of public affairs, attended to everything, provided for all emergencies, and kept all the compli- cated machinery of government in motion, without the necessity of the king's having any personal agency in the matter. The king might interpose, more or less, as he was in- clined ; and, when he did interpose, he some- times found obstacles in the way of imme- diately accomplishing his plans, in the forms or usages which had gradually grown into laws. For instance, when the king began his reign, he was very eager to have the war for the re- covery of the Palatinate go on at once ; and he was, besides, very much embarrassed for want of money. He wished, therefore, in order to save time, that the old Parliament which King James had called should continue to act under his reign. But his Privy Council told him that that could not be. That was James's Parlia- ment. If he wanted one for his reign, he must call upon the people to elect a new Parliament for him. BtJCKINGHAM. ; 71 The new Parliament was called, and Charles Bent them a very civil message, explaining the emergency which had induced him to call them, and the reason why he was so much in want of money. His father had loi't the government a great deal in debt. There had been heavy ex- penses connected with the death of the former king, and with his own accession and marriage. Then there was the war. It had been engaged in by his father, with the approbation of the former Parliament ; and engagements had been made with allies, which now they could not honorably retract. He urged them, therefore, to grant, without delay, the necessary sup- plies. The Parliament met in July, but the plague was increasing in London, and they had to ad- journ, early in August, to Oxford. This city is situated upon the Thames, and was then, as it is now, the seat of a great many colleges. These colleges were independent of each other in their internal management, though united together in one general system. The name of one of them, which is still very distinguished, was Christ Church College. They had, among the buildings of that college, a magnificent hall, more than one hundred feet long, and very lofty, built in a very imposing style. It is fitill a great object of interest to all who visit Oxford, This hall was fitted up for the use of 72 KING CHARLES I. Parliament, and the king met the two houses tliere, and made a new speech himself, and had others made by liis ministers, explaining tlio state of public affairs, and gently urging the houses to act with pi'omptness and decision. The houses then separated, and each com- menced its own deliberations. But, instead of promptly complying with the king's proposals, they sent him a petition for redress of a long list of what they called grievances. These grievances were, almost all of them, complaints of the toleration and encouragement of the Catholics, through the influence of the king's Catholic bride. She had stipulated to have 3^ Catholic chapel, and Catholic attendants, and, after her arrival in England, she and Bucking- ham had so much influence over the king that, they were producing quite a change at court, and gradually through all ranks of society, in favor of the Catholics. The Commons com> plained of a great many things, nearly all, how- ever, originating in this cause. The king answered these complaints, clause by clause, promising redress more or less distinctly. There is not room to give this petition and the answers in full, but as all the subsequent troubles between Charles and the people of England arose out of this difficulty of his young wife's bringing in so strong a Catholic influoace with her to the realm, it may be well BUCKINGHAM. 78 to^'ve an abstract of some of the principal petitions, with the king's answers. The Commons said That they had understood that popish priests, and other Catholics, were gradually f^reeping in as teachers of the youth of the realm, in the various seminaries of learning, and they wanted to , have decided measures taken to examine all candidates for such sta- tions, with a view to the careful exclusion of nil who were not true Protestants. Kinf/. — Allowed. And I will send to the archbishops and all the authorities to see that Uiis is done. Commons. — That more efficient arrangements •liould be made for appointing able and faithful men in the Church — men that will really devote themselves to preaching the Gospel to the peo- ple, instead of conferring these places and salaries on favorites ; sometimes, as has been the case, several to the same man. The king made some explanations in regard to this subject, and promised hereafter to com- ply with this requisition. Commo7is. — That the laws against sending children out of the country to foreign countries to be educated in Catholic seminaries should bo strictly enforced, and the practise be eu« tirely broken up. 74 KING CHARLES I. King, — Agreed ; and he would send to the lord admiral, and to all the naval officers on the coast, to watch very carefully and stop all children attempting to go abroad for such a purpose ; and he would issue a proclamation commanding all the noblemen's children now on the Continent to return by a given day. Commons. — That no Catholic (or, as they called him, popish recusant, that is, a person refusing to subscribe to the Protestant faith, recusant meaning person refusmg') be admit- ted into the king's service at court ; and that no English Catholic be admitted into the Queen's service. They could not refuse to al- low her to employ her own French attendants, but to appoint English Catholics to the honor- able and lucrative offices at her disposal was doing a great injury to the Protestant cause in the realm. The king agreed to this, with some conditions and evasions. Commons. — That all Jesuits and Catholic priests, owing allegiance to the See of Eome, 'should be sent away from the country, accord- ing to laws already existing, after fair notice given ; and if they would not go, that they 'should be imprisoned in such a manner as to be kept from all communication with other per- BUCKINGHAM, 75 sons, so as not to disseminate their false re- ligion. King, — The laws on this subject shall be enforced. • The above are sufficient for a specimen of these complaints and of the king's answers. There were many more of them, but they have all the same character and end, namely, to stop the strong current of Catholic influence and ascendancy which was setting in to the court, and through the court into the realm, through the influence of the young queen and the per- sons connected with her. At the present day, and in this country, the Commons will be thought to be in the wrong, inasmuch as the thing which they were contending against was, in the main, merely the toleration of the Cath- olic religion. But then the king was in the wrong too, for, since the laws against this tol- eration stood enacted by the consent and con- currence of his predecessors, he should not have allowed them to be infracted and virtually annulled through the influence of a foreign bride and an unworthy favorite. Perhaps he felt that he waa wrong, or per- haps his answers were all framed for him by his Privy Council. At all events, they were entirely favorable to the demands of the Com- mons. He promised everything. In many 76 KING CHARLES I. tilings he went even beyond their demands. It is admitted, however, on all hands, that, so far as he himself had any agency in making these replies, he was not really sincere. He himself, and Buckingham, were vei^ eager to get sup- plies. Buckingham was admiral of the fleet,, and had a great desire to enlarge the force at his command, with a view to the performing of some great exploit in the war. It is under- stood, therefore, that the king intended his replies as promises merely. At any rate, the promises were made. The Commons were called into the great hall again, at Christ Cliurch, where the Peerj assembled, and tlie king's answers were read to them. Bucking- bam joined in this policy of attempting to con- ciliate the Commons. He went into their as- sem])ly and made a long speech, explaining and justifying his conduct, and apologizing, in some sense, for what might seem to be wrong. The Commons returned to their place of de- liberation, but they were not satisfied. Thoy wanted something besides promises. Some were in favor of granting suj^plies -^in grati- tude to his majesty for his gracious answer.'' Others thought differently. They did not see the necessity for raising money for this foreign war. They had greater enemies at home (meaning Buckingham and popery) than they kad abroad. Besides, if tlie king would stop BUCKINGHAM. 77 his waste and oxtravagance in bestowing hon- ors and rewards, there would be money enough for all necessary uses. In a word, there was much debate, but nothing done. The king, after a short time, sent a message to them urging them to come to a decision. They sent him back a declaration which showed that they did not intend to yield. Their language, how- ever, was of the most humble character. They called him ** their dread sovereign," and them- selves **his poor commons." The king was displeased with them, and dissolved the Parlia- ment. They, of course, immediately became private citizens, and dispersed to their homes. After trying gome ineffectual attempts to raise money by his own royal prerogatives and powers, the king called a new Parliament, tak- ing some curious precautions to keep out of it such persons as he thought would oppose his plans. The Earl of Bristol, whom Buckingham had been so jealous of, considering him as his rival, was an influential membor ci the House of Peers. Charles and Buokirighan? agreed to omit him in sending out the royal writs to summon the peers. lie petiMoned Parliament, claiming a right to his scat. Charles then sent him his v/rit but; gave him a command, as his sovereign, not to attend the session. He also relected four of the prominent men in the House of Commons, men ivhom he consi'le^-ad 78 KING CHARLES I. most influential in opposition to him and to Buckingham, and appointed them to offices which would call them away from London ; and as it was the understanding in those days that the sovereign had a right to command the services of his subjects, they were obliged to go. The king hoped, by these and similar means, to diminish the influence against him in Parliament, and to get a majority in his favor. But his plans did not succeed. Such measures only irritated the House and the country. After another struggle, this Parlia- ment was dissolved too. Things went on so for four or five years, the breach between the king and the people grow- ing wider and wider. Within this time there were four Parliaments called, and, after various contentions with them, they were, one after another, dissolved. The original subject of disagreement, viz., the growing influence of the Catholics, was not the only one. Other points came up, growing out of the king's use of his prerogative, and his irregular and, as they thought, illegal attempts to interfere with their freedom of action. The king, or, rather, Buckingham, using the king's name, resorted to all sorts of contrivances to accomplish this object. For instance, it had long been the custom, in case any member of the House of peers was absent, for him to give authority to BUCKINGHAM. 79 any friend of his, who was also a member, to vote for him. This authority was called a l^roxy. This word is supposed to be derived from procuracy, which means action in the place of, and in behalf of, another. Bucking- ham induced a great number of the peers to give him their proxies. He did this by re- wards, honors, and various other influences, and he found so many willing to yield to these inducements, that ^t one time he had thirty or forty proxies in his hands. Thus, on a ques- tion arising in the House of Lords, he could give a very large majority of votes. The House, after murmuring for some time, and expressing much discontent and vexation at this state of things, finally made a law that no member of the House should ever have power to use more than two proxies. One of the Parliaments which King Charles assembled at length brought articles of im- peachment against Buckingham, and a long contest arose on this subject. An impeach- ment is a trial of a high officer of state for maladministration of his office. All sorts of charges were brought against Buckingham, most of which were true. The king considered their interfering to call one of his ministers to account as wholly intolerable. He sent them orders to dismiss that subject from their de- liberations, and to proceed immediately with 80 KING CHARLES I, til oil' work of Uiying taxes to raise money, or he would dissolve the Parliament as lie had done before. He reminded them that the Parliaments were entirely *Mn his power for their calling, sitting, and dissolution, and as he found their fruits were for good or evil, so they were to continue, or not to be."' If they would mend their errors and do their duty, henceforward he would forgive the past; otherwise they were to expect his irrecon- cilable hostility. This language irritated instead of alarming them. The Commons persisted in their plan of impeachment. The king arres't-ed the men whom they appointed as managers of the im- peachment, and imprisoned them. The Com- mons remonstrated, and insisted that Buck- ingham should be dismissed from the king's service. The king, instead of dismissing him, took measures cr> have him appointed, in addi- tion to all his •other offices. Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, a very exalted sta- tion. Parliament remonstrated. The king, in retaliation, dissolved the Parliament. Thus things went on from bad to worse, and from worse to worse again ; the chief cause of che difficulties, in almost all cases, being trace- able to Buckingham's reckless and arbitrary <3onduct. He was continually doing something m the pursuit of his own ends, by the rash and BUCKINGHAM. 81 heedless exercMsc of the vast powers eommitted to him, to make extensive and irreparable mis- chief. At one time he ordered a part of the fleet over to tlie coast of France, to enter tlie French service, the sailors expecting that they were to be employed against the Spaniards. 'J'liey found, however, that, instead of going against the Spaniards, they were to be sent to Rochelle. Rochelle was a tow^n in France in possession of the Protestants, and the King of France wanted to subdue them. The sailors sent a remonstrance to their commander, bej:- ging not to be forced to fight against ineir brother Protestants. This remonstrance was- in form, what is called a Round liohin. In a Round Robin a circle is drawn, the pe- tition or remonstrance is written within it, and the names are written all around it, to prevent any one's having to take the responsibility of being the first signer. When the commander of the fleet received the Round Robin, instead of being offended, he inquired into the facts, and finding that the case was really as the Round Robin represented it, he broke ar/ay from the French command and returned to England. He said he would rather be hanged in England for disobeying orders than to fight against the Protestants of France. Buckingham might have known that such a spirit as this in Englishmen ^as not +o be tri- 82 KING CHARLES I. fled with. But ho knew notliing, and thought of nothing, except that he wanted to please and gratify the French government. When the fleet, therefore, arrived in England, he peremp- torily ordered it back, and he resorted to all sorts of pretexts and misrepresentations of tlie facts to persuade the officers and men that they were not to be employed against the Protes- tants. The fleet accordingly went back, and when they arrived, they found that Bucking- ham had deceived them. They were ordered to Kochelle. One of the ships broke away and returned to England. The officers and men deserted from the other ships and got home. The whole armament was disorganized, and the English people, who took sides with the sailors, were extremely exasperated against Bucking- ham for his blind and blundering recklessness, and against the king for giving such a man the power to do his mischief on such an extensive scale. At another time the duke and the king con- trived to fit out a fleet of eighty sail to make a descent upon the coast of Spain. It caused them great trouble to get the funds for this ex- pedition, as they had to collect them, in a great measure, by various methods depending on the king's prerogative, and not by authority of Par- liament. Thus the whole country were dis- satisfied and discontented in respect to the fleet BUCKINGHAM. 83 before it was ready to sail. Then, as if this was not enough, Ikickingham overlooked all the olficers in the navy in selecting a commander, and put an officer of the army in charge of it ; a man whose whole experience had been ac- quired in wars on the land. The country thought that Buckingham ought to have taken the command himself, as lord high admiral ; and if not, that he ought to have selected his commiinder from the ranks of the service em- ployed. Thus the fleet set off on the expedi- tion, all on board burning with indignation against the arbitrary and absurd management of the favorite. The result of the expedition was also extremely disastrous. They had an excellent opportunity to attack a number of ships, which would have made a very rich prize ; but the soldier-commander either did not knoAv, or did not dare to do, his duty. lie finally, liowever, effected a landing, and took a castle, but the sailors found a great store of wine there, and went to drinking and carousing, breaking through all discipline. The com- mander had to get them on board again imme- diately, and come away. Then he conceived the plan of going to intercept what were called the Spanish galleons, which were ships em- ployed to bring home silver from the mines in America, which the Spaniards then possessed. dn further thoughts he concluded to give up 84 KING CHAKLES I. this idea, on account of the plague, which, it- he said, broke out in his ships. So he came back to England with his fleet disorganized, demoralized, and crippled, and covered with military disgrace. The people of England charged all this to Buckingham. Still the king persisted in retaining him. It was his prerogative to do so. After a while Buckingham got into a per- sonal quarrel with Eichelieu, who was the lead- ing manager of the French government, and he resolved that England should make war upon France. To alter the whole political position of such an empire as that of Great Britain, in respect to peace and war, and to change such a nation as France from a friend to an enemy, would seem to be quite an under- taking for a single man to attempt, and that, too, without having any reason whatever to assign, except a personal quarrel with a minis- ter about a love affair. But so it was. Buck- ingham undertook it. It was the king's pre- rogative to make peace or war, and Bucking- ham ruled the king. He contrived various ways of fomenting ill will. One was, to alienate the mind of the king from the queen. He represented, to him tliat the queen's French servants were getting to be very disrespectful and insolent in their treatment of him, and finally persuaded him BUCKINGHAM. 85 to send them all home. So the king went one day to Somerset House, which was the queen's residence — for it is often the custom in high life in Europe for tlie husband and wife to have separate establishments — and requested her to summon her French servants into his presence, and when they were assembled, he told them that he had concluded to send them all home to France. Some of them, he said, had acted properly enough, but others had been rude and forward, and that he had concluded it best to send them all home. The French king, on hearing of this, seized a hundred and twenty English ships lying in his harbors in re- taliation of this act, which he said was a pal- pable violation of the marriage contract, as it certainly was. Upon this the king declared war against France. He did not ask Parliament to act in this case at all. There was no Parlia- ment. Parliament had been dissolved in a fit of displeasure. The whole affair was an exer- cise of the royal prerogative. He did not dare to call a Parliament to provide means for car- rying on the war, but set his Privy Council to devise modes of doing it, through this same prerogative. The attempts to raise money in these ways made great trouble. The people resisted, and interposed all possible difficulties. However, some funds were raised, and a fleet of a hun- 7— C)i»rl«i I. »b KING CHATlLES I. dred sail, and an army of seven thousand men, were got together. Buckingham undertook the command of this expedition himself, as there had been so mucli dissatisfaction with his appointment of a commander to the other. It resulted just as was to be expected in the case of seven thousand men, and a hundred ships, afloat on the swelling surges of the English Channel, under the command of vanity, reck- lessness, and folly. The duke came back to England in three months, bringing home one- third of his force. The rest had been lost, without accomplishing anything. The measure of j)ublic indignation against Buckingham was now full. Buckingham himself walked as loftily and proudly as ever. He got up another fleet, and was preparing to set sail in it himself, as com- mander again. He went to Portsmouth, ac- cordingly, for this purpose, Portsmouth being the great naval station then, as now, on the southern coast of England. Here a man named Eelton, who had been an officer under the duke in the former expedition, and who had been ex- tremely exasperated against him on account of some of his management there, and who had since found how universal was the detestation of him in England, resolved to rid the country of such a curse at once. He accordingly took bis station in the passage-way of the house CharUt I. face j).8C ^ AssaBsination of the Duke of Buckingham, BUCKINGHAM. 87 where Buckingham was, armed with a knife. Buckingham came out, talking with some Frenchmen in an angry manner, having had some dispute with them, and Felton thrust the knife into his side as he passed, and, leaving it in the wound, walked away, no one having noticed who did the deed. Buckingham pulled out the knife, fell down, and died. The by- standers were going to seize one of the French- men, when Felton advanced and said, *'I am the man who did the deed ; let no man suffer that is innocent." He was taken. They found a paper in his hat, saying that he was going to destroy the duke, and that he could not sacri- fice his life in a nobler cause than by delivering his country from so great an enemy. King Charles was four miles off at this time. They carried him the news. He did not ap- pear at all concerned or troubled, but only di- rected that the murderer — he ought to have said, perhaps, the executioner — should be secured, and that the fleet should proceed to sail. He also ordered the treasurer to make arrangements for a splendid funeral. The treasurer said, in reply, that a funeral would only be a temporary show, and that he could hereafter erect a monument at half tlie cost, which would be a much more lasting me- morial. Charles acceded. Afterward, when Charles spoke to him about the monument, the 88 KING CHARLES T. treasurer replied, What would the world say if your majesty were to build a monument to the Buckingham Execrated by the Populace. duke before you erect one for your father ? So the plan was abandoned, and Buckingham had no other monument than the universal detesta- tion of his countrymeu. CHAPTER V. THE KIXG AND HIS PREROGATIVE. The great difficulty in governing without a Parliament was how to raise funds. By the old customs and laws of the realm, a tax upon the people could only be levied by the action of the House of Commons ; and the great ob- ject of tlie king and council during Bucking- ham's life, in summoning Parliaments from time to time was to get their aid in this point. But as Charles found that one Parliament after another withheld the grants, and spent their time in complaining of his government, ho would dissolve them, successively, after ex- hausting all possible means of bringing them to a compliance with his will. He would then be thrown upon his own resources. Tlie king had soine resources of his own. These were certain estates, and lands, and other property, in various parts of the country, which belonged to the crown, the income of which the king could appropriate. But the umount which could bo derived from this 89 90 KING CHARLES I. source was very small. Then there were certain other modes of raising money, which had been resorted to by former monarchs, in emergen- cies, at distant intervals, but still in instances so numerous that the king considered prece- dents enough had been established to make the power to resort to these modes a part of the prerogative of the crown. The people, how- ever, considered these acts of former monarchs as irregularities or usurpations. They denied the king's right to resort to these methods, and they threw so many difficulties in the way of the execution of his plans, that finally he would call another Parliament, and make new efforts to lead them to conform to his will. The more the experiment was tried, however, the worse it succeeded ; and at last the king determined to give up the idea of Parliaments altogether, and to compel the people to submit to his plans of raising money without them. The final dissolution of Parliament, by which Charles entered upon his new plan of govern- ment, was attended with some resistance, and the affair made great difficulty. It seems that one of the members, a certain Mr. Rolls, had had some of his goods seized for payment of some of the king's irregular taxes, which he had refused to pay willingly. ISTow it had al- ways been considered the law of the land in England, that the person and the property of a THE KING AND HIS PREROGATIVE. 91 member of Parliament were sacred during the session, on the ground that while he was giving liis attendance at a council meeting called by his sovereign, he ought to be protected from molestation on the part either of his fellow-sub- jects or his sovereign, in his person and in his property. The House of Commons considered, therefore, the seizure of the goods of one of the members of the body as a breach of their priv- ilege, and took up the subject with a view to punish the officers who acted. The king sent a message immediately to the House, wlrile tliey were debating the subject, saying that the otticer acted, in seizing the goods, in obedience to his own direct command. This produced great excitement and long debates. The king, by taking the responsibility of the seizure upon himself, seemed to bid the House defiance. They brought up this question : " AVhether the seizing of Mr. Rolls's goods was not a breach ot privilege ? " When the time came for a de- cision, the speaker, that is, the presiding officer, refused to put the question to vote. He said lie Iiad been commanded hj the king not to do it ! The House were indignant, and immedi- ately adjourned for two days, probably for the purpose of considering, and perhaps consulting their constituents on what they were to do in so extraordinary an emergency as the king's coming into their own body and interfering 92 KING CHARLES I. with the functions of one of their own proper officers. They met on the day to which they had ad- journed, prepared to insist on the speaker's putting the question. But he, immediately on the House coming to order, said that he had received the king's command to adjourn the House for a week, and to put no question what- ever. He then was going to leave the chair, but two of the members advanced to him and held him in his place, while they read some resolutions which had been prepared. There was great confusion and clamor. Some insisted that the House was adjourned, some were de- termined to pass the resolutions. The resolu- tions were very decided. They declared that whoever should counsel or advise the laying of taxes not granted by Parliament, or be an actor or instrument in collecting them, should be ac- counted an innovator, and a capital enemy to the kingdom and Commonwealth. And also, that if any person whatever should voluntarily pay such taxes, he should be counted a capital enemy also. These resolutions were read in the midst of great uproar. The king was in- formed of the facts, and sent for the sergeant of the House — one of the highest officers — but the members locked the door, and would not let the sergeant go. Then the king sent one of his owu oflScers to the House with a roes* THE KING AND HIS PREROGATIVE. 93 sage. The members kept the door locked, and would not let him in until they had disposed of the resolutions. Then the House adjourned for a week. The next day, several of the leading mem- bers who were supposed to have been active in these proceedings were summoned to appear before the council. They refused to answer out of Parliament for what was said and done by them in Parliament. The council sent them to prison in the Tower. The week passed away, and the time for the reassembling of the Houses arrived. It had been known, during the week, that the king had determined on dissolving Parliament. It is usual, in dissolving a Parliament, for the sovereign not to appear in person, but to send his message of dissolution by some person commissioned to deliver it. This is called dis- solving the House by commission. The disso- lution is always declared in tlie House of Lords, the Commons being summoned to attend. In this case, however, the king attended in person. He was dressed magnificently in his royal robes, and wore his crown. He would not deign, however, to send for the Commons. He entered the House of Peers, and took his seat upon the throne. Several of the Commons, however, came in of their own accord, and stood below the bar, at the usual place assigned 94 KING CHARLES I. them. The king then rose and read the fol- lowing speech. The antiquity of the language gives it an air of quaintness now which it did not possess then. *' My Lords, — I never came here upon so un- pleasant an occasion, it being the Dissolution of a Parliament. Therefore Men may have some cause to wonder why I should not rather chuse to do this by Commission, it being a general Maxim of Kings to leave harsh Com- mands to their Ministers, Themselves only exe- cuting pleasing things. Yet considering that Justice as well consists in Eeward and Praise of Virtue as Punishing of Vice, I thought it nec- essary to come here to-day, and to declare to you and all the World, that it was merely the undutiful and seditious Carriage in the Lower House that hath made the Dissolution of this Parliament. And you, my Lords, are so far from being any Causers of it, that I take as much comfort in your dutiful Demeanour, as I am justly distasted with their Proceedings. Yet, to avoid their Mistakings, let me tell you, that it is so far from me to adjudge all the House alike guilty, that I know there are many there as dutiful subjects as any in the World ; it being but some few Vipers among them that did cast this Mist of Undutifulness over most of tbeir !Eyes. Yet to say Truth, there was a THE KING AND HIS PREROGATIVE. 95 good Number there that could not be infected with this Contagion. "To conclude, As those Vipers must look for their Reward of Punishment, so you, my Lords, may justly expect from me that Favor and Protection tliat a good King oweth to his loving and faithful Nobility. And now, my Lord Keeper, do what I have commanded you." Then the lord keeper pronounced the Par- liament dissolved. The lord keeper was the keeper of the great seal, one of the highest officers of the crown. Of course this affair produced a fever of ex- citement against the king throughout the whole realm. This excitement was kept up and in- creased by the trials of the members of Parlia- ment who had been imprisoned. The courts decided against them, and they were sentenced to long imprisonment and to heavy fines. The king now determined to do without Parliaments entirely ; and, of course, he had to raise money by his royal prerogative altogether, as he had done, in fact, before, a great deal, during the intervals between the successive Parliaments. It will not be very entertaining, but it will be very useful to the reader to peruse carefully some account of the principal methods resorted to by the king. In order, however, to diminish the necessity for money as much as possijble. 96 KING CHARLES 1. the king prepared to make peace with France and Spain ; and as they, as well as England, were exhausted with the wars, this was readily effected. One of the resorts adopted by the king was to a system of Joans, as they were called, though these loans differed from those made by governments at the present day, in being appor- tioned upon the whole community according to their liability to taxation, and in being made, in some respects, compulsory. The loan was not to be absolutely collected by force, but all were expected to lend, and if any refused, they were to be required to make oath that they would not tell anybody else that they had re- fused, in order that the influence of their ex- ample might not operate upon others. Those who did refuse were to be reported to the gov- ernment. The officers appointed to collect these loans were charged not to make unneces- sary difficulty, but to do all in their power to induce the people to contribute freely and will- ingly. This plan had been before adopted, in the time of Buckingham, but it met with little success. Another plan which was resorted to was the granting of what was called monopolies : that is, the government would select some impor- tant and necessary articles in general use, and give the exclusive right of manufacturing THE KING AND HIS PREROGATIVE. 97 them to certain persons, on tlieir paying a part of tlie profits to the government. Soap was one of tlie articles thus chosen. The ex- clusive right to manufacture it Avas given to a company, on their paying for it. So with leather, salt, and various other things. These persons, when they once possessed the ex- clusive right to manufacture an article which the people must use, would ahuse their power hy deteriorating the article, or charging enormous prices. Xothing i)revented their doing this, as they had no competition. The effect was, that the people were injured much more than tlie government was benefited. The plan of granting such monopolies by govern- ments is now universally odious. Another method of taxation was what was called tonnage and 2)oundayQrc Jiuineuyering and managing in every STPwAFFORD AND LAUD's END 163 possible way to secure the final vote. But, notwithstanding this, Strafford's defense was so able, and the failure to make out the charge of treason against him was so clear, that it was doubtful what the result would be. Accord- ingly,without waiting for the decision of the Peers on the impeachment, a bill of attainder against the earl was brought forward in the House of Commons. This bill of attainder was passed by a large majority — yeas 204, nays 59. It was tlien sent to the House of Lords. The Lords were very unwilling to pass it. Wliile they were debating it, the king sent a message to them to say that in his opinion tlie earl liad not been guilty of treason, or of any attempt to subvert the laws ; and that several tilings which had been alleged in the trial, and on which the bill of attainder chiefly rested, were not true. He was willing, how- over, if it would satisfy the enemies of the earl, to have him convicted of a misdemeanor, and made incapable of holding any public office from that time ; but he protested against his being punished by a bill of attainder on a charge of treason. This interposition of the king in Strafford's favor awakened loud expressions of displeas- ure. Tliey called it an interference with the action of one of tlie liouses of Parliament. The enemies of Strafford created a great excitement 164 KING CHARLES I. against him out of doors. They raised clamor- ous calls for his execution among the populace. The people made black lists of the names of persons who were in the earl's favor, and post- ed them up in public places, calling such per- sons Straffordians, and threatening them with public vengeance. The Lords, who would have been willing to have saved Strafford's life if they had dared, began to find that they could not do so without endangering their own. When at last the vote came to be taken in the House of Lords, out of eighty members who had been present at the trial, only forty-six were present to vote, and the bill was passed by a vote of thirty-five to eleven. The thirty- four who were absent were probably all against the bill, but were afraid to appear. The responsibility now devolved upon the king. An act of Parliament must be signed by the king. He really enacts it. The action of the two houses is, in theory, only a recom- mendation of the measure to him. The king was determined on no account to give his con- sent to Strafford's condemnation. He, how- ever, laid the subject before his Privy Council. They, after deliberating upon it, recommended that he should sign the bill. Nothing else, they said, could allay the terrible storm which was raging, and the king ought to prefer the peace and safety of the realm to the life of STRAFFORD AND LAUD S END. 165 any one man, however innocent he might be. The populace, in the mean time, crowded around the king's palace at Whitehall, calling out ^* Justice ! Justice I '^ and filling the air with threats and imprecations ; and preachers in their pulpits urged the necessity of punish- ing offenders, and descanted on the iniquity 1 1 ^^^P ^^^^^ ■■■q ■ ^ '^=3^^^ ^k i' ^^^ ^^■| 1 1 ^R The Tower of London. s which those magistrates committed who al- lowed great transgressors to escape the penalty due for their crimes. The queen, too, was alarmed. She begged the king, with tears, not any longer to attempt to withstand the torrent which threatened to sweep them all away in its fury. While things were in this state, Charles received a letter from Strafford in the Tower, expressing his con- sent, and even his request, that the king should yield and sign the bill. Strafford said, in his letter to the king. 166 KING CHARLES I. ^' To set your Majesty's conscience at Lib- erty, I do most humbly beseech your Majesty for Prevention of Evils, which may happen by your Eefusal, to pass this Bill. Sir, My Con- sent shall more acquit you herein to God, than all the World can do besides ; To a willing Man there is no Injury done ; and as by God's Grace, I forgive all the World, with a calmness and Meekness of infinite Contentment to my dis- lodging Soul, so. Sir, to you I can give the Life of this World with all the cheerfulness imag- inable, in the just Acknowledgment of your ex- ceeding Favors ; and only beg that in your Goodness you would vouchsafe to cast your gracious Eegard upon my poor Son and his tliree sisters, less or more, and no otlierwise than as their unfortunate Father may here- after appear more or less guilty of this Death. God long preserve your Majesty."' On receiving this letter the king caused the bill to be signed. He would not do it with his own hands, but commissioned two of his coun- cil to do it in his name. He then sent a mes- senger to Strafford to announce the decision, and to inform him that he must prepare to die. The messenger observed that the earl seemed surprised ; and after hearing that the king had signed the bill, he quoted, in a tone of despair, the words of Scripture, ^^Put not your trust in STRAFFORD AND LAUD's END. 167 princes, nor in tlie sons of men, for in tluni is no salvation." Historians have thought it strange that Stratford shouhl liave expressed til is disappointment when he had himself re- quested the king to resist the popular will no longer ; and they infer from it that he was not sinc(ire in the request, but supposed tliat the king would regard it as an act of nobleness and generosity on his part, that would render him more unwilling than ever to consent to his destruction, and that he was accordingly sur- prised and disappointed when he found that the king had taken him at his word. It is said, liowever, by some historians, that this letter was a forgery, and that it was written by some of Strafford's enemies to lead the king to resist no longer. The reader, by perusing the let- ter again, can perhaps form some judgment wliether such a document was more likely to have been fabricated by enemies, or really writ- ten by the unhappy prisoner himself. The king did not entirely give up the hope of saving his friend, even after the bill of at- tainder was signed. He addressed the follow- ing message to the House of Lords : '^ My Lords, — I did yesterday satisfy the Justice of this Kingdom by passing the Bill of Attainder against the Earl of Strafford : but Mercy being as inherent and inseparable 168 KING CHARLES I. to a King as Justice, I desire at tins time in some measure to shew that likewise, by suffer- ing that unfortunate Man to fulfil the natural course of his Life in a close Imprisonment : yet so, if ever he make the least Offer to escape, or offer directly or indirectly to meddle in any sort of public Business, especially with Me either by Message or Letter, it shall cost him liis Life without farther Process. This, if it may be done without the Discontentment of my People, will be an unspeakable Content- ment to me. *'I will not say that your complying with me in this my intended Mercy, shall make me more willing, but certainly 'twill make me more cheerful in granting your Just Grievances : But if no less than his Life can satisfie my People, I must say Let justice be done. Thus again recommending the consideration of my Intention to you, I rest, " Your Unalterable and Affectionate Friend, " Charles R." The Lords were inexorable. Three days from the time of signing the bill, arrangements were made for conducting the prisoner to the scaffold. Laud, who had been his friend and fellow-laborer in the king's service, was con- fined also in the Tower, awaiting his turn to come to trial. They were not allowed to visit r •-■■ 'i| ^1 aJUBB^^^B^^K^Ky^iy^ ^£- I'va «jt t ^Hi '^ '.'■ " : ll^li PI! ^'^^" ■ " \^B ---^ '"- ■ '^^fi^^ St^n ' ' ' ^ ^^^3i ^^^^^BEii=^:r;:=^.=:J3E±t=^iaS^| C'/bur(ca i. yace ^. Jba The Earl oi Strafford led to executioo. STRAFFORD AND LAUd's END. 169 each otlier, but Strafford sent word to Laud requesting him to be at his window at the time when he was to pass, to bid him farewell and to give him his blessing. Laud accordingly aj^peared at the window, and Strafford, as he passed, asked for the prelate's prayers and for liis blessing. The old man, for Laud was now nearly seventy years of age, attempted to speak, but he could not command himself suf- ficiently to express what he wished to say, and he fell back into the arms of his attendants. *' God protect you," said Strafford, and walked calmly on. lie Avent to the place of execution with the composure and courage of a hero. He spoke freely to those around him, asserted his inno- cence, sent messages to his absent friends, and said he waS ready and willing to die. The scaffold, in such executions as this, is a plat- form slightly raised, with a block and chairs upon it, all covered with black cloth. A part of the dress has to be removed just before the execution, in order that the neck of the suf- ferer may be fully exposed to the impending blow. Strafford made these preparations him- self, and said, as he did so, that lie was in no wise afraid of death, but that he should lay his head upon that block as cheerfully as he ever did upon his pillow. 170 KING CKARLES T. Charles found his position in no respect im- proved by the execution of Strafford. Tlie Commons, finding their influence and power increasing, grew more and more bold, and were from this time so absorbed in the events con- nected with the progress of their quarrel with the king, that they left Laud to pine in his prison for about four years. They then found time to act over again the solemn and awful scene of a trial for treason before the House of Peers, the passing of a bill of attainder, and an execution on Tower Hill. Laud was over seventy years of age when the ax fell upon him. He submitted to his fate with a calmness and heroism in keeping with his age and his char- acter. He said, in fact, that none of his ene- mies could be more desirous to send him out of life than he was to go. CHAPTER IX. CIVIL WAR. The way in which the king came at last to a final rupture with Parliament was this. The victory which the Commons gained in the case of Strafford had greatly increased their con- fidence and their power, and the king found, for some months afterward, that instead of be- ing satisfied witli tlie concessions he had made, they were continually demanding more. The more he yielded, the more they encroached. They grew, in a word, bolder and bolder, in proportion to their success. They considered themselves doing the state a great and good service by disarming tyranny of its power. The king, on tlie other hand, considered them as undermining all the foundations of good government, and as depriving him of personal rights, the most sacred and solemn that could vest in any human being. It will be recollected that on former occa- sions, when tlie king had got into contention with a Parliament, he had dissolved it, and either attempted to govern without one, or else i.;. Churl*. I 171 17^ KING CHAKLES I. had called for a new election, hoping that the new members would be more compliant. But he could not dissolve the Parliament now. They had provided against this danger. At the time of the trial of Strafford, they brought in a bill into the Commons providing that thenceforth the Houses could not be prorogued or dissolved without their own consent. The Commons, of course, passed the bill very read- ily. The Peers were more reluctant, but they did not dare to reject it. The king was ex- tremely unwilling to sign the bill ; but, amid the terrible excitements and dangers of that trial, he was overborne by the influences of danger and intimidation which surrounded him. He signed the bill. Of course the Com- mons were, thereafter, their own masters. However dangerous or destructive the king might consider their course of conduct to be, he could now no longer arrest it, as heretofore, by a dissolution. He went on, therefore, till the close of 1641, yielding slowly and reluctantly, and with many struggles, but still all the time yielding, to the resistless current which bore him along. At last he resolved to yield no longer. After re- treating so long, he determined suddenly and desperately to face about and attack his ene- mies. The whole world looked on with aston- ishment at such a sudden change of hie policy. \ ; CIVIL WAK. 173 The measure wliicli he resorted to Avas this. lie determined to select a number of the most efficient and prominent men in Parliament, who liad been leaders in the proceedings against him, and demand their arrest, imprisonment, and trial, on a charge of high treason. The king was influenced to do this partly by the ad- vice of the queen, and of the ladies of the court, and other persons who did not understand how deep and strong the torrent was which they tlms urged him to attempt to stem. They tlioughtthat if he would show a little courage nnd energy in facing these men, they would yield in their turn, and that their boldness and success was owing, in a great measure, to the king's want of spirit in resisting them. *' Strike boldly at them," said they; *' seize the leaders ; have them tried, and condemned, and executed. Threaten the rest with the same fate ; and follow up these measures with energetic and decisive action, and you will soon make a change in the aspect of affairs." The king adopted this policy, and he did make a change in the aspect of affairs, but not such a change as his advisers had anticipated. The Commons were thrown suddenly into a state of astonishment one day by the appear- ance of a king's officer in the House, who rose and read articles of a charge of treason against five of the most influential and popular mem- 174 KING CHARLES I. bers. Tlie officer asked that a committee should be appointed to hear the evidence against them which the king was preparing. The Commons, on hearing this, immediately voted, that if any person should attempt even to seize the papers of the persons accused, it should be lawful for them to resist such an attempt by every means in their power. Tlie next day another officer appeared at the bar of the House of Commons, and spoke as follows : ^^ I am commanded by the king's majesty, my master, upon my allegiance, that I should come to the House of Commons, and require of Mr. Speaker five gentlemen, mem- bers of the House of Commons ; and those gentlemen being delivered, I am commanded to arrest them in his majesty's name, on a charge of high treason." The Commons, on hearing this demand, voted that they would take it into consideration ! The king's friends and advisers urged him to follow the matter up vigorously. Every- thing depended, they said, on firmness and de- cision. The next da3^ accordingly, the king determined to go himself to the House, and make the demand in person. A lady of the court, who was made acquainted with this plan, sent notice of it to the House. In going, the king took his guard with him, and several personal attendants. The number of soldiers CIVIL WAR. 175 was said to be five hundred. He left this great retinue at the door, and he himself en- tered the House. The Commons, when they heard tliat he was coming, had ordered the five members who were accused to withdraw. They went out just before the king came in. The king advanced to the speaker's chair, took his seat, and made the following address. " Grentlemen, — I am sorry for this occasion of coming unto you. Yesterday I sent a Ser- geant at Arms upon a very important occasion to apprehend some that by my Command were accused of High Treason ; whereunto I did ex. pect Obedience and not a message. And I must declare unto you here, that albeit no king that ever was in England shall be more careful of your Privileges, to maintain them to the ut- termost of his Power, than I shall be ; yet you must know that in cases of Treason no Person hath a Privilege ; and tlierefore I am come to know if any of those Persons that were accused are here. For I must tell you, Gentlemen, that so long as these Persons that I have ac- cused (for no slight Crime, but for Treason) are here, I cannot expect that this House will be in the right way that I do heartily wish it. Therefore I am come to tell you that I must have them wherever I find them." After looking around, and finding that the 1T6 i:i:40 chakles i. members in question were not in the hall, hs continued : ''Weill since I see the Birds are flown, I do expect from you that you sliall send them unto me as soon as they return hither. But I assure you, on the Word of a King, I never did intend any Force, hut shall proceed against til em in a legal and fair way, for I never meant any otlier. *' I will trouble you no more, but tell you I do expect, as soon as they come to the House, you will send tliem to me, otherwise I must take my own course to find them." The king's coming thus into the House of Commons, and denuuidiiig in person that they should act according to his instructions, was a very extraordinary circumstance — perhaps un- paralleled in Engiisli history. It produced the greatest excitement. When he had finished liis address, lie turned to the speaker and asked liim where those men were. He had his guard ready at the door to seize them. It is difficult for us, in this country, to understand fully to h(v,Y severe a test this sudden question put the presence of miiid and courage of the speaker ; for we cannot realize the profound and awful deference which was felt in those days for the command of a king. The speaker gained great Chart f J. J King Charles I. and t-he Commone. CIVIL WAR. 177 applause for tlie manner in whieli he stood the trial. He fell upon his knees before the great potentate who had addressed him, and said, '• I have, sir, neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, in this place, but as the House is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am. And I luimbly ask pardon that I cannot give any other answer to what your majesty is pleased to demand of me." The House was immediately in a state of great excitement and confusion. They called out '^Privilege! privilege!" meaning that their privileges were violated. They immedi- ately adjourned. News of the affair spread everywhere with the greatest rapidity, and ])roduced universal and intense excitement. The king's friends were astonished at such an act of rashness and folly, which, it is said, only 0)ie of the king's advisers knew anything about, and he immediately fled. The five members accused went that night into the city of Lon- don, and called on the government and people of London to protect them. The people armed themselves. In a word, the king found at night that he had raised a very threatening and terrible storm. The Commons met the next morning, but did not attempt to transact business. They simply voted that it was useless for them to proceed with their deliberations, while exposed 178 KING CHARLES I. to such violations of their rights. They ap- pointed a committee of twenty-four to inquire into and report the circumstances of the king's intrusion into their councils, and to consider how this breach of their privileges could be re- paired. They ordered this committee to sit in the city of London, where they might hope to be safe from such interruptions, and then the House adjourned for a week, to await the re- sult of the committee's deliberations. The committee went to London. In the mean time news went all over the kingdom that the House of Commons had been com- pelled to suspend its sittings on account of an illegal and unwarrantable interference with their proceedings on the part of the king. The king was alarmed ; but those who had advised him to adopt this measure told him that he must not falter now. He must persevere and carry his point, or all would be lost. He accordingly did persevere. He brought troops and arms to his palace at Whitehall, to be ready to defend it in case of attack. He sent in to London, and ordered the lord mayor to assemble the city- authorities at the Guild- hall, which is the great city hall of London ; and then, with a retinue of noblemen, he went in to meet them. The people shouted, ** Privileges of Parliament ! privileges of Par- liamenf!" as he passed along. Some called CIVIL WAR. 179 out, " To your tents, Israel! ^' which was the ancient Hebrew cry of rebellion. The king, however, persevered. Wlien he reached the Guildhall, he addressed the city authorities thus : ^' Gentlemen, — I am come to demand such Persons as I have already accused of High Treason, and do believe are shrouded in the City. I hope no good Man will keep them from Me. Their Offenses are Treason and Misdemeanors of a high Nature. I desire your Assistance, that they may be brought to a legal Trial. '^ Three days after this the king issued a proclamation, addressed to all magis- trates and officers of justice everywhere, to arrest the accused members and carry them to the Tower. In the mean time the committee of twenty- four continued their session in London, exam- ining witnesses and preparing their report. When the time arrived for the House of Com- mons to meet again, which was on the 11th of January, the city made preparations to have the committee escorted in an imposing manner from the Guildhall to Westminster. A vast amount of the intercommunication and traffic between different portions of the city then, as now, took place upon the river, though in those days it was managed by watermen, who rowed email wherries to and fro.. Innumerable steam- 180 KING CHARLES I. boats take the place of the wherries at the present day, and stokers and engineers have superseded the watermen. The watermen were then, however,, a large and formidable body, banded together, like the other trades of London, in one great organization. This great company turned out on this occasion, and attended the committee in barges on the river, while the military companies of the city marched along the streets upon the land. The committee themselves went in barges on the water, and all London flocked to see the spec- tacle. The king, hearing of these arrange- ments, was alarmed for his personal safety, and left his palace at Whitehall to go to Hampton Court, which was a little way out of town. The committee, after entering the House, reported that the transactions which they had been considering constituted a high breach of the privileges of the House, and was a seditious act, tending to a subversion of the peace of the kingdom ; and that the privileges of Parlia- ment, so violated and broken, could not be sufficiently vindicated, unless his majesty would be pleased to inform them who advised him to do such a deed. The king was more and more seriously alarmed. He found that the storm of public odium and indignation was too great for him CIVIL WAR. 181 to withstand. He began to fear for his own safety more than ever. He removed from Hampton Court to Windsor Castle, a stronger place, and more remote from London than Ilampton Court ; and he now determined to give up the contest. He sent a message, there- fore, to the House, saying that, on further re- tlection, since so many persons had doubts whether Iiis proceedings against the five mem- bers were consistent with the privileges of Parliament, he would waive them, and the whole subject might rest until the minds of men were more composed, and then, if he pro- ceeded against tlie accused members at all, he would do so in a manner to which no exception could be taken. He said, also, he would hence- forth be as careful of their privileges as he sliould be of his own life or crown. Thus he acknowledged himself vanquished in tlie struggle, but the acknowledgment came too late to save him. The excitement increased, and spread in every direction. The party of the king and that of the Parliament disputed for a few months about these occurrences, and others growing out of them, and then each began to maneuver and struggle to get posses- sion of the military power of the kingdom. The king, finding himself not safe in the vicinity of London, retreated to York, an(| began to assemble and organize his followers. 182 KING CHARLES I. Parliament sent him a declaration that if he did not disband the forces which he was assem- bling, they should be compelled to provide measures for securing the peace of the king- dom. The king replied by proclamations call- ing upon his subjects to join his standard. In a word, before midsummer, the country was plunged in the horrors of civil war. A civil war, that is, a war between two parties in the same country, is generally far more savage and sanguinary than any other. Tlie hatred and the animosities which it cre- ates, ramify throughout the country, and pro- duce universal conflict and misery. If there were a war between France and England, tliere might be one, or perhaps two invading armies of Frenchmen attempting to penetrate into the interior. All England would be united against them. Husbands and wives, parents and children, neighbors and friends, would be drawn together more closely than ever ; while tlie awful scenes of war and bloodshed, the excitement, the passion, the terror, would be confined to a few detached spots, or to a few lines of march which the invading armies had occupied. In a civil war, however, it is very different. Every distinct portion of the country, every village and hamlet, and sometimes almost eve-ry family, is divided against itself. The hostility CIVIL WAR. 183 fliul hatred, too, between the combatants, is alw.'iys far more intense and bitter than that which is felt against a foreign foe. AVe might at first be surprised at this. We might imagine that where men are contending witli their neighbors and fellow-townsmen, the recollec- tion of past friendships and good-will, and various lingering ties of regard, would moder- ate the fierceness of their anger, and make tliem more considerate and forbearing. But this is not found to be the case. Each party considers the other as not only enemies, but traitors, and accordingly they hate and abhor L'ach other with a double intensity. If an Englishman has a Frencliman to combat, he meets him with a murderous impetuosity, it is true, but without any special bitterness of animosity. lie expects the Frencliman to be his enemy. He even thinks he has a sort of natural right to be so. He will kill him if he can ; but then, if he takes him prisoner, there is nothing in his feelings toward him to pre- vent his treating him with generosity, and even with kindness. He hates him, but there is a sort of good-nature in his hatred, after nil. On the other hand, when he fights against his countrymen in a civil war, he abhors and hates witli unmingled bitterness the traitorous ingrati- tude which he thinks his neighbors and friends evince in turning enemies to their country. 184 KING CHARLES I. He can see no honesty, no truth, no courage in anything they do. They are infinitely Worse, in his estimation, than the most ferocious of foreign foes. Civil war is, consequently, al- ways the means of far wider and more ter- rible mischief than any other human calamity. In the contention between Charles and the Parliament, the various elements of the social state adhered to one side or the other, according to their natural predilections. The Episco- palians generally joined the king, the Presby- terians the Parliament. The gentry and the nobility favored the king ; the mechanics, artisans, merchants, and common people the Parliament. The rural districts of country, which were under the control of the great landlords, the king ; the cities and towns, the Parliament. The gay, and fashionable, and worldly, the king; the serious-minded and austere, the Parliament. Thus everything was divided. The quarrel ramified to every hamlet and to every fireside, and the peace and happiness of the realm were effectually des- troyed. Both sides began to raise armies and to pre- pare for war. Before commencing hostilities, however, the king was persuaded by his coun- selors to send a messenger to London and pro- pose some terms of accommodation. He ac- cordingly sent the Earl of Southampton to the CITIL WAR. 185 House of Peers, and two other persons to th»^ House of Commons. He had no expectation, probably, of making peace, but he wanted to gain time to get his army together, and also to strengthen his cause among the people by showing a disposition to do all in his power to avoid open war. The messengers of the king went to London, and made their appearance in the two houses of Parliament. The House of Lords ordered the Earl of Southampton to withdraw, and to send hi» communication in in writing, and in the mean time to retire out of London, and wait for their answer. The House of Commons, in the same spirit of hostility and defiance, ordered the messengers which had been sent to them to come to the bar, like humble petitioners or criminals, and make their communication there. The propositions of the king to the houses of Parliament were, that they should appoint a certain number of commissioners, and he also the same number, to meet and confer together, in hope of agreeing upon some conditions of peace. The houses passed a vote in reply, de- claring that they had been doing ail in their power to preserve the peace of the kingdom, while the king had been interrupting and dis- turbing it by his military gatherings, and by proclamations, in which they were called trai- 14— Charles I. 186 KING CHARLES I. tors : and that they could enter into no treaty with him until he disbanded the armies which he had collected, and recalled his proclamations. To this the king replied that he had never intended to call them traitors ; and that when they would recall their declarations and votes stigmatizing those who adhered to him as trai- tors, he would recall his proclamations. Thus messages passed back and forth two or three times, each party criminating the other, and neither willing to make the concessions which the other required. At last all hope of an ac- commodation w^as abandoned, and both sides prepared for war. The nobility and gentry flocked to the king's standard. They brought their plate, their jew- els, and their money to provide funds. Some of them brought their servants. There were two companies in the king's guard, one of which consisted of gentlemen, and the other of their servants. These two companies were always kept together. There was the greatest zeal and enthusiasm among the upper classes to serve the king, and equal zeal and enthusiasm among the common people to serve the Parlia- ment. The w^ar continued for four years. During all this time the armies marched and countermarched all over the kingdom, carrying ruin and destruction wherever they went, and plunging the wdiole country in misery. CIVIL WAR. 187 At one of tlio battles which was fought, the celebrated John Hampden, the man who would not pay his ship money, was slain. He had been a very energetic and efficient officer on tlie Tarliamentary side, and was much dreaded by the forces of the king. At one of the battles between Prince Rupert, Charles's nephew, and the army of the Parliament, the prince brought to the king's camp a large number of prisoners which he had t-iken. One pi the prisoners said he was confider.t that Hampden was hurt, for he saw him riding off the field before the battle was over, with his head hanging down, and his hands clasping the neck of his horse. They heard the next day that he had been wounded in the shoulder. Inflammation and fever en- sued, and he died a few days afterward in great agony. This Prince Rupert was a very famous char- Acter in all these wars. He was young and ar-t dent, and full of courage and enthusiasm. H* was always foremost and ready to embark in the most daring undertakings. He was tho son of the king's sister Elizabeth, who married the Elector Palatine, as narrated in a preceding chapter. He was famous not only for his mil- itary skill and attainments, but for his knowl- edge of science, and for his ingenuity in man} philosophical arts. There is a mode of engrav% ing called mezzotinto, which is somewhat easier 188 KING CHARLES I. of execution than the common mode, and pro- duces a peculiar effect. Prince Eupert is said to have been the inventor of it, though, as is the case with almost all other inventions, there is a dispute about it. He discovered a mode of dropping melted glass into water so as to form little pear-shaped globules, with a long slender tail. These globules have this remark- able property, that if the tip of the tail is bro- ken off ever so 'gently, the whole flies into atoms with an explosion. These drops of glass are often exhibited at the present day, and are called Prince Eupert's drops. The prince also discovered a very tenacious composition of met- als for casting cannon. As artillery is neces- sarily very heavy, and very difficult to be trans- ported on marches and upon the field of battle, it becomes very important to discover such me- tallic compounds as have the greatest strength and tenacity in resisting the force of an explo- sion. Prince Eupert invented such a com- pound, which is called by his name. There were not only a great many battles and fierce encounters between the two great parties in this civil war, but there were also, at times, temporary cessations of the hostilities, and negotiations for peace. But it is very hard to make peace between two powers en- gaged in civil war. Each considers the other as acting the part of rebels and traitors, an4 CIVIL WAR. 189 there is a difficulty, almost insuperable, in the way of even opening negotiations between them. Still the people became tired of the war. At one time, when the king had made some propositions which the Parliament would not accept, an immense assemblage of women col- lected together, with white ribbons in their hats, to go to the House of Commons with a petition for peace. When they reached the door of the hall their number was five thou- sand. They called out, *' Peace ! peace !' Give us those traitors that are against peace, that we may tear them to pieces." The guards who were stationed at the door were ordered to fire at this crowd, loading their guns, however, only with powder. This, it was thought, would frighten them away; but the women only laughed at the volley, and returned it with si^^ones and brick-bats, and drove the guards away. Other troops were then sent for, who charged upon the women with their swords, and cut them in their faces and hands, and thus at length dispersed them. During the progress of the war, the queen returned from the Continent and joined the king. She had some difficulty, hoAvever, and encountered some personal danger, in her efforts to return to her husband. The vice- admiral, who had command of the English ships off the coast, received orders to intercept 190 KING CHARLES t. her. He watched for her. She contrived, however, to elude his vigilance, though there were four ships in her convoy. She landed at a town called Burlington, or Bridlington, in Yorkshire. This town stands in a very pic- turesque situation, a little south of the famous promontory called Flamborough Head, of which there is a beautiful view from the pier of the town. The queen succeeded in landing here. On her arrival at the town, she found herself worn down with the anxiety and fatigue of the voy- age, and she wanted to stop a few days to rest. She took up her residence in a house which was on the quay, and, of course, near the water. The quay, as it is called, in these towns, is a street on the margin of the water, with a wall, but no houses next the sea. The vice-admiral arrived at the town the second night after the queen had landed. He was vexed that his expected prize had escaped him. He brought his ships up near to the town, and began to fire toward the house in which the queen was lodging. This was at five o'clock in the morning. The queen and her attendants were in their beds, asleep. The reports of the cannon from the ships, the terrific whistling of the balls through the air, and the crash of the houses which the balls struck, aroused the whole vil- CIVIL WAR. 191 lage from their slumbers, and threw them into consternation. The people soon came to the house where the queen was lodging, and begged her to fly. They said that the neighboring houses were blown to pieces, and that her own would soon be destroyed, and she herself would be killed. They may, however, have been in- fluenced more by a regard to their own safety than to hers in these injunctions, as it must have been a great object with the villagers to effect the immediate removal of a visitor who was the means of bringing upon them so terri- ble a danger. These urgent entreaties of the villagers were soon enforced by two cannon-balls, which fell, one after another, upon the roof of the house, and, crashing their way through the roof and the floors, went down, without seeming to re- gard the resistance, from the top to the bottom. The queen hastily put on her clothes, and went forth with her attendants on foot, the balls from the ships whistling after them all the way. One of her servants was killed. The rest of the fugitives, finding their exposure so great, stopped at a sort of trench which they came to, at the end of a field, such as is dug com- monly, in England, on one side of the hedge, to make the barrier more impassable to the animals which it is intended to confine. This 192 KING CHARLES I. trench, with the embankment formed by the (iiivth thrown out of it, on which the hedge is usually planted, afforded them protection. They sought shelter in it, and remained there for two hours, like besiegers in the approaches to a town, the balls passing over their heads harmlessly, though sometimes covering them with the earth which they threw up as they bounded by. At length the tide began to ebb, and the vice-admiral was in danger oi being left aground. He weighed his anchors and withdrew, and the queen and her part;y were relieved. Such a cannonading of a help- less and defenseless woman is a barbarity whicli could hardly take place except in a civil war. The queen rejoined her husband, and sh( rendered him essential service in many ways. She had personal influence enough to raise botl money and men for his armies, and so con» tributed very essentially to the strength of hu party. At last she returned to the Continent again, and went to Paris, where she was still actively employed in promoting his cause. At one of the battles in which the king was de- feated, the Parliamentary army seized his baggage, and found among his papers his cor- respondence with the queen. They very ungen- erously ordered it to be published, as the letters seemed to show a ^^igorous determination on the part of the knig not to yield in the contest An Incident in the Civil War, CIVIL WAR. 193 witlioufc obtaining from the Parliament and its adherents full and ample concessions to his claims. As time rolled on, the strength of the royal party gradually wasted away, while that of Parliament seemed to increase, until it became evident that the latter would, in the end, ob- tain the victory. The king retreated from place to place, followed by his foes, and grow- ing weaker and more discouraged after every conflict. His son, the Prince of Wales, was then about fifteen years of age. He sent him to the western part of the island, Avith direc- tions that, if affairs should still go against him, the boy should be taken in time out of the country, and join his mother in Paris. The danger grew more and more imminent, and they who had charge of the young prince sent him first to Scilly, and then to Jersey — islands in the Channel — whence he made his escape to Paris, and joined his mother. Fifteen years afterward he returned to London with great pomp and parade, and was placed upon the throne by universal acclamation. At last the king himself, after being driven from one place of refuge to another, retreated to Oxford and intrenched himself there. Hero he spent the winter of 1646 in extreme depres- sion and distress. His friends deserted him ; his resources were expended ; his hopes were 194 KING CHARLES T. extinguished. He sent proposals of peace to the Parliament, and offered, himself, to come to London, if they would grant him a safe-con- duct. In reply, they forbade him to come. They would listen to no propositions, and would make no terms. The case, they saw, was in their own hands, and they determined on uncondi- tional submission. They hemmed the king in on all sides at his retreat in Oxford, and re- duced him to despair. In the meantime, the Scots, a year or two before this, had raised an army and crossed the northern frontier, and entered England. They were against monarchy and Episcopacy, but they were, in some respects, a separate enemy from those against whom the king had been contending so long ; and he began to think that he had perhaps better fall into their hands than into those of his English foes, if he must sub- mit to one or to the other. He hesitated for some time what course to take ; but at last, after receiving representations of the favorable feeling which prevailed in regard to him in the Scottish army, he concluded to make his escape from Oxford and surrender himself to them. He accordingly did so, and the civil war was ended. CHAPTER X. THE CAPTIVITY. The circumstances of King Charles's sur- render to^ the Scots were these. He knew that he was surrounded by his enemies in Oxford, and that they woukl not allow him to escape if they could prevent it. He and his friends, therefore, formed the following plan to elude them. Tliey sent word to the commanders of each of the several gates of the city, on a certain day, that during the ensuing night three men would have to pass out on business of the king's, and that when the men should appear and give a certain signal, they were to be allowed to pass. The officer at each gate received this command without knowing that a similar one had been sent to the others. Accordingly, about midnight, the parties of men were despatched, and they went out at the several gates. The king himself was in one of these parties. There were two other persons with him. One of these persons was a certain 195 196 KING CHARLES I. Mr. Ashburnham, and the king was disguised as his servant. They were all on horseback, and the king had a valise upon the horse be- hind him, so as to complete his disguise. Thia was on the 27th of April. The next day, or very soon after, it was known at Oxford that his majesty was gone, but no one could tell in what direction, for there was no means even of deciding by which of the gates he had left the city. The Scotch were, at this time, encamped be- fore the town of Newark, which is on the Trent, in the heart of England, and about one hun- dred and twenty miles north of London* There was a magnificent castle at Newark in those days, which made the place very strong. The town held out for the king ; for, though they had been investing it for some time, they had not yet succeeded in compelling the governor to surrender. The king concluded to proceed to Newark and enter the Scottish camp. He considered it, or, rather, tried to have it con- sidered, that he was coming to join them as their monarch. They were going to consider it surrendering to them as their prisoner. The king himself must have known how it would be, but it made his sense of humiliation a little less poignant to carry this illusion with him as long as it was possible to maintain it. As soon as the Parliament found that the THET CAPTIVITY. 197 king had made his escape from Oxford, they were alarmed, and on the 4th of May they is- sued an order to tliis effect, '^ That what per- son soever should harbor and conceal, or should know of the harboring or concealing of the king's person, and should not immediately re- veal it to the speakers of both houses, should be proceeded against as a traitor to the Common- wealth, and die without mercy." The proc- lamation of this opder, however, did not result ill arresting the flight of the king. On the day after it was issued, he arrived safely art Newark. The Scottish general, whose name was Les- ley, immediately represented to the king that for his own safety it was necessary that they should retire toward the northern frontier ; but they could not so retire, he said, unless New- ark should first surrender. They accordingly induced the king to send in orders to the gov- ernor of the castle to give up the place. TJie Scots took possession of it, and, after having garrisoned it, moved with their army toward tlie north, the king and General Lesley being hi the van. They treated the king with great distinction, but guarded him very closely, and sent word to the Parliament that he was in their possession. Tliere ensued long negotiations and much de- bate. The question Avas, at first, whether the Knglish or Scotch should have the disposal of 198 KING CHARLES I. the king's person. The English said that they^ and not the Scots, were the party making war upon him ; that they had conquered his armies, and hemmed him in, and reduced him to the necessity of submission ; and that he had been taken captive on English soil, and ought, con- sequently, to be delivered into the hands of the English Parliament. The Scots replied that though he had been taken in England, he ' was their king as well as the king of England, and had made himself their enemy ; and that, as he had fallen, into their hands, he ought to remain at their disposal. To this the English rejoined, that the Scots, in taking him, had not acted on their own account, but as the allies, and, as it were, the agents of the English, and that they ought to consider the king as a captive taken for them, and hold him subject to their dis- posal. / They could not settle the question. In the meantime the Scottish army drew back toward the frontier, taking the king with them. About this time a negotiation sprung up between the Parliament and the Scots for the payment of the expenses which the Scottish army liad in- curred in their campaign. The Scots sent in an account amounting to two millions of pounds. The English objected to a great many of the charges, and offered them two hundred thousand pounds. Finally it was set- THE CAPTIVITY. 199 tied that four hundred thousand pounds should be paid. This arrangement was made early in September. In January the Scots agreed to give up the king into the hands of the English Parliament. The world accused the Scots of selling their king to his enemies for four hundred thousand pounds. The Scots denied that there was any connection between the two transactions above referred to. They received the money on ac- count of their just claims ; and they afterward agreed to deliver up the king, because they tliought it right and proper so to do. The friends of the king, however, were never satis- fied that there was not a secret understanding between the parties, that the money paid was not the price of the king's delivery ; and as this delivery resulted in his death, they called it the price of blood. Charles was at Newcastle when they came to this decision. His mind had been more at ease since his surrender to the Scots, and he was accustomed to amuse himself and while away the time of his captivity by various games. He was playing chess when the intelligence was brought to him that he was to be delivered up to tlie English Parliament. It was com- municated to him in a letter. He read it, and then went on with his game, and none of those around him could perceive by his air and man- 200 KING CHARLES I. ner that the intelligence which the letter con- tained was anything extraordinary. Perhaps he was not aware of the magnitude of the change in his condition and prospects which the communication announced. There was at this time, at a town called Holmby or Holdenby, in Northamptonshire, a beautiful palace which was known by the name of Holmby House. King Charles's mother had purchased this palace for him when he was the Duke of York, in the early part of his life, while his father, King James, was on the throne, and his older brother was the heir ap- parent. It was a very stately and beautiful edifice. The house was fitted up in a very handsome manner, and all suitable accommo- • dations provided for the king's reception. He had many attendants, and every desirable con- venience and luxury of living ; but, though the war was over, there was still kept up between the king and his enemies a petty contest about forms and punctilios, which resulted from the spirit of intolerance which characterized the age. The king wanted his own Episcopal chap- lains. The Parliament would not consent to this, but sent him two Presbyterian chaplains. . The king would not allow them to say grace at the table, but performed this duty himself; and on the Sabbath, when they preacljed in his chapel, he never would attend. THE CAPTIVITY. 201 One singular instance of this sort of bigotry, and of the king's presence of mind under the action of it, took place while the king was at Newcastle. They took liim one day to the chapel in the castle to he^ir a Scotch Presby- terian who was preaching to the garrison. The Scotcliman preached a long discourse pointed expressly at tlie king. Tliose preachers prided themselves on the fearlessness with which, on such occasions, they discharged what they called their duty. To cap the climax of his faithfulness, tlie preacher gave out, at the close of the sermon, the hymn, thus: "We will sing the fifty-first Psalm : *' * Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, Tliy wioked works to praise ? ' " As the congregation were about to com- mence the singing, the king cast his eye along the page, and found in the fifty-sixth hymn one which he tliought would be more appro- priate, lie rose, and said, in a very audible manner, " We will sing the Mty-sixth Psalm : *' * Have mercy, Lord, on me I pray, For men would me devour.' " The congregation, moved by a sudden im- pulse of religious generosity extremely unusual in those days, immediately sang the psalm which the king had chosen. 202 KING CHARLES T. While he was at ITolmby the king used sometimes to go, escorted by a guard, to cer- tain neighboring villages where there were bowling-greens. One day, while he was going on one of these excursions, a man, in the dress of a laborer, appeared standing on a bridge as he passed, and handed him a packet. The commissioners who had charge of Charles — for some of them always attended him on these excursions — seized the man. The packet was from the queen. The king told the commis- sioners that the letter was only to ask him some question about the disposal of his son, the young prince, Tfho was then with her in Paris. They seemed satisfied, but they sent the disguised messenger to London, and the Parliament committed him to prison, and sent down word to dismiss all Charles's own attend- ants, and to keep him thenceforth in more strict confinement. In the mean time, the Parliament, having finished the war, were ready to disband the army. But the army did not want to be dis- banded. They would not be disbanded. The officers knew very well th^at if their troops were dismissed, and they were to return to their homes as private citizens, all their importance would be gone. There followed long debates and negotiations between the army and the Parliament, which ended, at last, in an open f'karle* I./ac«p. 302 Oliver Cromwell. THE CAPTIVITY. 203 rupture. It is almost always so at the end of a revolution. The military power is found to have become too strong for the civil institu- tions of the country to control it. Oliver Cromwell, who afterward became so distinguished in the days of the Common- wealth, was at this time becoming the most influ- ential leader of the army. He was not the com- mander-in-chief in form, but he was the great planner and manager in fact. He was a man of great sternness and energy of character, and was always ready for the most prompt and dar- ing action. He conceived the design of seizing the king's person at Holmby, so as to take him away from the control of the Parliament, and transfer him to that of the army. This plan was executed on the 4th of June, about two months after the king had been taken to Holmby House. The abduction was effected in the following manner. Cromwell detached a strong party of choice troops, under the command of an officer by the name of Joyce, to carry the plan into effect. These troops were all horsemen, so that their movements could be made with the greatest celerity. They arrived at Holmby House at midnight. The cornet, for that w^as the mili- tary title by which Joyce w^as designated, drew up his horsemen about the palace, and de- manded entrance Before his coftipany ar* 204 KING CHARLES I. rived, however, there had been an alarm thai they were coming, and the guards liad been doubled. The officers in command asked the cornet what was his name and business. He replied that he was Cornet Joyce, and that hi^ business was to speak to the king. They asked him by whom he was sent, and he replied thai he was sent by himself, and that he must and would see the king. They then commanded their soldiers to stand by their arms, and be ready to fire when the word should be given. They, however, perceived that Joyce and hia force were a detachment from the army to which they themselves belonged, and conclud- ing to receive them as brothers, they opened the gates and let them in. The cornet stationed sentinels at the doora of those apartments of the castle which were occupied by the Scotch commissioners who had the king in charge, and then went himself directly to the king's chamber. He had a pistol loaded and cocked in liis hand. He knocked at the door. There were four grooms in waiting : they rebuked him for making such a disturbance at that time of tlie night, and told him that he should wait until the morn- ing if he had any communication to make to the king. The cornet would not accede to this proposi- tion, but knocked violently at the door, tlie Arrest of King Charles 1. THE CAPTIVITY. 205 servants being deterred from interfering by dread of the loaded pistol, and by the air and manner of their visitor, which told them very plainly that he was not to be trifled with. The king finally heard the disturbance, and, on learning the cause, sent out word that Joyce must go away and wait till morning, for ho would not get up to see him at that hour. The cornet, as one of the historians of the time expresses it, *' huffed and retired." The next morning he had an interview with the king. AVhen he was introduced to the king's apart- ment in the morning, the king said that he wished to have the Scotch commissioners pres- ent at the interview. Joyce replied that the commissioners had notliing to do now but to return to tlie Parliament at London. The king then said that he wished to see his in- structions. The cornet replied that he would show them to him, and he sent out to order his horsemen to parade in the inner court of the palace, where the king could see them from his windows ; and then, pointing them out to the king, he said, "These, sir, are my instruc- tions." The king, who in all the trials and troubles of his life of excitement and danger, took everything quietly and calmly, looked at tlie men attentively. They were fine troops, well mounted and armed. He then turned to the cornet, and said, with a smile, that "his 206 KING CHARLES t. instructions were in fair characters, and could be read without spelling." The cornet then said that his orders were to take the king away with him. The king declined going, unless the commissioners went too. The cornet made no objection, saying that the commis- sioners might do as they pleased about accom- panying him, but that he himself must go. The party set off from Holmby and traveled two days, stopping at night at the houses of friends to their cause. They reached Cam- bridge, where the leading officers of the army received the king, rendering him every possible mark of deference and respect. From Cam- bridge he was conducted by the leadcts of the army from town to town, remaining sometimes several days at a place. He was attended by a strong guard, and was treated everywhere with the utmost consideration and honor. He was allowed some little liberty, in riding out and in amusements, but every precaution was taken to prevent the possibility of an escape. The people collected everywhere into the places through which he had to pass, and his presence-chamber was constantly thronged. This was not altogether on account of their re- spect and veneration for him as king, but it arose partly from a very singular cause. There is a certain disease called the scrofula, which in former times had the name of the King's THE CAPTIVITY. 20T Evil. It is a very unmanageable and obstinate disorder, resisting all ordinary modes of treat- ment ; but in the days of King Charles, it was universally believed by the common people of England, that if a king touched a patient afflicted with this disease, he would recover. This was the reason why it was called the king's evil. It was the evil that kings only could cure. Now, as kings seldom traveled much about their dominions, whenever one did make such a journey, the people embraced the oppor- tunity to bring all the cases which could pos- sibly be considered as scrofula to the line of his route, in order that he might touch the per- sons afflicted and heal them. In the course of the summer the king was conducted to Hampton Court, a beautiful pal- ace on the Thames, a short distance above Lon- don. Here he remained for some time. He had an interview here with two of his children. The oldest son was still in France. The two whom he saw here were the Duke of Glouces- ter and the Princess Elizabeth. He found that they were under the care of a nobleman of high rank, and that they were treated with great consideration. Charles was extremely gratified and pleased with seeing these mem- bers of his family again, after so long a separa- tion. His feelings of domestic affection were very strong. 208 KING CHARLES I. The king remained at Hampton Court two or three months. During this time, London, and all the region about it, was kept in a con- tinual state of excitement by the contentions of the army and Parliament, and the endless negotiations which they attempted with each other and with the king. During all this time the king was in a sort of elegant and honorable imprisonment in his palace at Hampton Court ; but he found the restraints to which he was subjected, and the harassing cares which the contest between these two great powers brought upon him, so great, that he determined to make his escape from the thraldom which bound him. He yery probably thought that he could again raise his standard, and collect an army to fight in his cause. Or perhaps he thought of making his escape from the country alto- gether. It is not improbable that he was not decided himself which of these plans to pursue, but left the question to be determined by the circumstances in which he should find himself when he had regained his freedom. At any rate, he made his escape. One even- ing, about ten o'clock, attendants came into his room at Hampton Court, and found that he had gone. There were some letters upon the table which he had left, directed to the Parlia- ment, to the general of the army, and to the officer who had guarded him at Hanipton Co*^'n, THE CAPTIVITY. 209 The king had left the palace an hour or two before. He passed out at the private door, which admitted him to a park connected with the palace. lie went through the park by a walk which led down to the water, where there was a boat ready for him. He crossed the river in the boat, and on the opposite shore he found several officers and some horses ready to receive him. He mounted one of the horses, and the party rode rapidly away. They traveled all night, and arrived, toward morning, at the residence of a countess on whose attachment to him and fidelity he placed great reliance. The countess concealed him in her house, though it was understood by all concerned that this was only a temporary place of refuge. He could not long be concealed here, and her residence was not provided with any means of defense ; so that, immediately on their arrival at the countesses, the king and the few friends who were with him began to concert plans for a more secure retreat. The house of the countess was on the south- ern coast of England, near the Isle of Wight. There was a famous castle in those days upon this island, near the center of it, called Caris- brooke Castle. The ruins of it, which are very extensive, still remain. This castle was under the charge of Colonel Hammond, who was at that time governor of the island. Colonel 16-CI)»rlMl. 210 KING CHARLES I. Hammond was a near relative of one of King Charles's chaplains, and the king thought it probable that he would espouse his cause. He accordingly sent two of the gentlemen who had accompanied him to the Isle of Wight to see Colonel Hammond, and inquire of lum whether he would receive and protect the king if he Vfould come to him. But he charged them not to let Hammond know where he was, un- less he would first solemnly promise to protect him, and not to subject him to any restraint. The messengers went, and, to the king's surprise, brought back Hammond with them. Tlie king asked them whether tliey had got his written promise to protect him. They an- swered no, but tliat they could depend upon him as a man of honor. The king was alarmed. **Then you have betrayed me," said he, ^^and I am his prisoner." The messengers were then, in their turn, alarmed at having thus disap- pointed and displeased the king, and they offered to kill Hammond on the spot, and to provide some other means of securing the king's safety. The king, however, would not sane- tion any such proceeding, but put himself un- der Hammond's charge, and was conveyed to Carisbrooke Castle. He was received with every mark of respect, but was very carefully guarded. It was about the middle of Novem- ber that these events took place. THE CAPTIVITY. 211 Hammond notified the Parliament that King Charles was in his hands, and sent for directions from them as to what he should do. Parliament required that he should be care- fully guarded, and they appropriated £5000 for the expenses of his support. The king remained in this confinment more than a year, while the Parliament and the army were strug- gling for the mastery of the kingdom. He spent his time, during this long period, in various pursuits calculated to beguile the weary days, and he sometimes planned schemes for escape. There were also a great many messages and negotiations going between the king and the Parliament, which resulted in nothing but to make the broach between them wider and wider. Sometimes the king was silent and depressed. At other times he seemed in his usual spirits. He read series books a great deal, and wrote. There is a famous book, which was found in manuscript after his death among his papers, in his handwriting, which it is supposed he wrote at this time. Ho was allowed to take walks upon the castle wall, which was very extensive, and he had some other amusements which served to occupy his leisure time. He found his confinement, how- ever, in spite of all these mitigations, weari- some and hard to boar. There were some schemes attempted to en- 212 KING CHARLES I. able him to regain his liberty. There was one very desperate attempt. It seems that Ham- mond, suspecting that the king was plotting an escape, dismissed the king's own servants and put others in their places — persons in whom he supposed he could more implicitly rely. One of these men, whose name was Burley, was exasperated at being thus dis- missed. He went through the town of Caris- brooke, beating a drum, and calling upon the people to rise and rescue their sovereign from his captivity. The governor of the castle, hearing of this, sent out a small body of men, arrested Burley, and hanged and quartered him. The king was made a close prisoner im- mediately after this attempt. Notwithstanding this, another attempt was soon made by the king himself, which came much nearer succeeding. There was a man by the name of Osborne, whom Hammond em- ployed as a personal attendant upon the king. He was what was called gentleman usher. The king succeeded in gaining this person's favor so much by his affability and his general demeanor, that one day he put a little paper into one of the king's gloves, which it was a part of his office to hold on certain occasions, and on this paper he had written that he was at the king's service. At first Charles was afraid that this offer was only a treacherous THE CAPTIVITY. 213 one ; but at length he confided in him. In the meantime there was a certain man by the name of Rolf in the garrison, wlio conceived the design of enticing the king away from tlie castle on the promise of promoting his escape, and then murdering him. Rolf thought that this plan would please the Parliament, and that he himself, and those who should aid him in the enterprise, would be rewarded. He pro- posed this scheme to Osborne, and asked him to join in the execution of it. Osborne made the whole plan known to the king. The king, on reflection, said to Osborne, ** Very well ; continue in communication with Rolf, and help him mature his plan. Let him thus aid in getting me out of the castle, and we will make such arrangements as to pre- vent the assassination." Osborne did so. He also gained over some other soldiers who were employed as sentinels near the place of escape. Osborne and Rolf furnished the king with a, saw and a file, by means of which he sawed off some iron bars which guarded one of his win- dows. They were then, on a certain night, to be ready with a few attendants on the outside to receive the king as he descended, and con- vey him away. In the mean time Rolf and Osborne had each obtained a number of confederates, those of the former supposing that the plan waa to 214 KING CHARLES I. assassinate the king, while those of the latter understood that the plan was to assist him in escaping from captivity. Some expressions which were dropped by one of this latter class alarmed Rolf, and led him to suspect some treachery. He accordingly took the precau- tion to provide a number of armed men, and to have them ready at the window, so that he should be sure to be strong enough to secure the king immediately on his descent from the window. When the time came for the escape, the king, before getting out, looked below, and, seeing so many armed men, knew at once that Rolf had discovered their designs, and refused to descend. He quickly returned to his bed. The next day the bars were found filed in two, and the king was made a closer prisoner than ever. Some months after this, some commissioners from Parliament went to see the king, and they found liim in a most wretched condition. His beard was grown, his dress was neglected, his health was gone, his hair was gray, and, though only forty-eight years of age, he appeared as decrepit and infirm as a man of seventy. In fact, he was in a state of misery and despair. Even the enemies who came to visit him, though usually stern and hard-hearted enough to withstand any impressions, were extrem.ely affected at the sight. iMlf CHAPTER XL TRIAL AND DEATH. As soon as tlie army party, with Oliver Crom- well at their head, had obtained complete ascendency, they took immediate measures for proceeding vigorously against the king. They seized him at Carisbrooke Castle, and took him to Hurst Castle, which was a gloomy fortress in the neighborhood of Carisbrooke. Hurst Castle was in a very extraordinary situation. There is a long point extending from the main land toward the Isle of Wight, opposite to the eastern end of it. Tliis point is very narrow, but is nearly two miles long. The castle was built at the extremity. It consisted of one great round tower, defended by walls and bas- tions. It stood lonely and desolate, surrounded by the sea, except the long and narrow neck which connected it with the distant shore. Of course, though comfortless and solitary, it was a place of much greater security than Carisbrooke. The circumstances of the king's removal to 215 216 KING CHARLES I. this new place of confinement were as follows : In some of his many negotiations with the Par- liament while at Carisbrooke he had bound himself, on certain conditions, not to attempt to escape from that place. His friends, how- ever, when they heard that the army were com- ing again to take him away, concluded that he ought to lose no time in making his escape out of the country. They proposed the plan to the king. He made two objections to it. He thought, in the first place, that the attempt would be very likely to fail ; and that, if it did fail, it would exasperate his enemies, and make his confinement more rigorous, and his proba- ble danger more imminent than ever. He said that, in the second place, he had promised the Parliament that he would not attempt to es- cape, and that he could not break his word. The three friends were silent when they heard the king speak these words. After a pause, the leader of them, Colonel Cook, said, " Suppose I were to tell your majesty that the army have a plan for seizing you immediately, and that they will be upon you very soon unless you escape. Suppose I tell you that we have made all the preparations necessary — that we have horses all ready here, concealed in a pent-house — that we have a vessel at the Cows * * There were two points or headlands, on opposite sides of an inlet from the sea, on the northern side TRIAL AND DEATH. 217 waiting for us — that we are all prepared to jittend you, and eager to engage in the enter- prise — the darkness of the night favoring our plan, and rendering it almost certain of success. Now," added he, "these suppositions express the real state of the case, and the only question is what your majesty will resolve to do." The king paused. He was distressed with perplexity and doubt. At length he said, •* They have promised me, and I have promised them, and I will riot break the promise first." '• Your majesty means by they ancl them, the Parliament, I suppose ? " '' Yes, I do." " But the scene is not changed. The Parliament liave no longer any power to protect you. The danger is imminent, and the circumstances absolve your majesty from all obligation." But the king could not be moved. lie said, come what may, he would not do anything that looked like a breaking of his word, lie would dismiss the subject and go to bed, and enjoy his rest as long as he could. His friends told him that they feared it would not be long. They seemed very much agitated and dis- of the Isle of Wight, whicli in ancient times received the name of Cows. They were called the East Cow and the West Cow. The harbor between them formed a safe and excellent harbor. The name is now spelled Cowes, and the port is, at the present day, of great commercial importance. 218 KING CHARLES t. tressed. The king asked them why they were so much troubled. They said it was to think of the extreme danger in which his majesty was lying, and his unwillingness to do anything to avert it. ^The king replied, that if the danger were tenfold more than it was, he would not break his word to avert it. The fears of the king's friends were soon re- alized. The next morning, at break of day, he was awakened by a loud knocking at his door. ,He sent one of his attendants to inquire what it meant. Jt was a party of soldiers come to take him away. They would give him no in- formation in respect to their plans, but required him to dress himself immediately and go with tlicni. They mounted horses at the gate of the castle. The king was very earnest to have his friends accompany him. They allowed one of them, the Duke of Richmond, to go with him a little way, and then told him he must return. The Duke bade his master a very sad and sor- rowful farewell, and left him to g'o on alone. The escort which were conducting him took him to Hurst Castle. The Parliament passed a vote condemning this proceeding, but it was too late. The army concentrated their forces about London, took possession of the avenues to the house of Parliament, and excluded all those members who were opposed to them. The remnant of the Parliament which was left TRIAL AND DEATH. 219 immediately took measures for bringing the king to trial. The House of Commons did not dare to trust the trial of the king to the Peers, according to the provisions of tlie English Constitution, and so they passed an ordinance for attainting him of higli treason, and for appointing commission' ers, themselves, to try him. Of course, in ap- pointing these commissioners, they would name such men as they were sure wouli be predis posed to condemn him. The Peers rejected tliis ordinance, and adjourned for nearly a fort- night, hoping thus to arrest any further pro- ceedings. The Commons immediately voted hat the action of the Peers was not necessary, and that they would go forwari] tliemselves. They then appointed the commissioners, and ordered the trial to proceed. Everything connected with the trial was conducted with great state and parade. The number of commissioners constituting the court was one hundred and thirty-three, though only a little more than half that number attended the trial. The king had been removed from ITurst Castle to Windsor Castle, and he was now brought into the city, and lodged in a liouse near to Westminster Hall, so as to be at hand. On the appointed day the court assem- bled ; the vast hall and all the avenues to it were thronged. The whole civilized world 220 KING CHARLES I. looked on, in fact, in astonishment at the al' most unprecedented spectacle of a king tried for his life by an assembly of his subjects. The first Inisiness after the opening of the court was to call the roll of the commissioners, that each one might answer to his name. The name of tlie general of the army, Fairfax, who was one of the number, was the second upon the list. When his name was called there was no answer. It was called again. A voice from one of the ga/'eries replied, '* Ile^ias too much wit to be here. ' This produced some disorder, and the officers called out to know who an- swered in that manner, but there was no reply. Afterwards, when the impeachment was read, the phrase occurred, ^^ Of all the people of Eng- land," when the same voice rejoined, "No, not the half of them." The officers then or- dered a soldier to fire into the seat from which these interruptions came. This com.mand was not obeyed, but they found, on investigating the case, that the person who had answered thus was Fairfax's wife, and they immediately removed her from the hall. When the court was fully organized, they commanded the sergeant-at-arms to bring in the prisoner. Tlie king was accordingly brouglit in, and conducted to a chair covered with crim- son velvet, which had been placed for him at the bar. The judges remained in their seats. TRIAL AND DEATH. 221 with their heads covered, while he entered, and the king took his seat, keeping his head cov- ered too. lie took a calm and deliberate survey ut' the scene, looking around upon the judges, and upon the armed guards by which he was fiivironed, with a stern and unchanging coun- tenance. At length silence was proclaimed, and the president rose to introduce the pro- ceedings. He addressed the king. He said that the Commons of England, deeply sensible of the calamities which had been brought upon Eng- land by the civil war, and of the inno nt blood which had been shed, and convinced that he, the king, had been the guilty cause of it, were now determined to make inquisition for this blood, and to bring him to trial and judg- ment ; that they had, for this purpose, organized this court, and that he should now hear the charge brought against him, which they would proceed to try. An officer then arose to read the charge. The king made a gesture for him to be silent. He, however, persisted in his reading, although the king once or twice attempted to interrupt him. The president, too, ordered him to pro- ceed. The charge recited the evils and calam- ities which had resulted from the war, and con- ciuded by saying that *'' the said Charles Stu- art is and has been the occasioner, autlior, and 222- KING CHARLES I. continuer of the said unnatural, cruel, and bloody wars, and is therein guilty of all the treasons, murders, rapines, burnings, spoils, desolations, damages, and mischiefs to this nation acted and committed in the said wars, or occasioned thereby." The president then sharply rebuked the king for his interruptions to the proceedings, and asked him what answer he had to make to the impeachment. The king replied by demand- ing by what authority they pretended to call him to account for his conduct. He told them that he was their king, and they his subjects ; that they were not even the Parliament, and that they had no authority from any true Par- liament to sit as a court to try him ; that he would not betray his own dignity and righto by making any answer at all to any charges they might bring against him, for that would be an acknowledgment of their authority ; but he was convinced that there was not one of them who did not in his heart believe that he was wholly innocent of the charges which they had brought against him. These proceedings occupied the first day. The king was then sent back to his place of confinement, and the court adjourned. The next day, when called upon to plead to the im- peachment, the king only insisted the more strenuously in denying the authority of the TRIAL AND DEATH. 223 court, and in stating his reasons for so denying it. The court were determined not to hear what he had to say on this point, and the pres- ident continually interrupted him ; while he, in his turn, continually interrupted the presi- dent too. It was a struggle and a dispute, not a trial. At last, on the fourth day, something like testimony was produced to prove that the king had been in arms against the forces of the Parliament. On the fifth and sixth days, the judges sat in private to come to their decision ; and on the day following, which was Saturday, January 27th, they called the king again be- fore them, and opened the doors to admit the great assembly of spectators, that the decision might be announced. There followed another scene of mutual in- terruptions and disorder. The king insisted on longer delay. He had not said what he wished to say in his defense. The president told him it was now too late ; that he had con- sumed the time allotted to him in making ob- jections to the jurisdiction of the court, and now it was too late for his defense. The clerk then read the sentence, which ended thus : *' For all which treasons and crimes this court doth adjudge that he, the said Charles Stuart, is a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public enemy, and shall be put to deatli by the sever- ing of his head from his body." When the 224 KING CHAKLES I. clerk had finished the reading, the presi ent rose, and said deliberately and solemnly, ** The sentence now read and published is the act, sentence, judgment, and resolution of the whole court." And the whole court rose to express their assent. The king then said to the president, "Will you hear me a word, sir ? " President. *' Sir, you are not to be heard after the sentence." King. ^' Am I not, sir ? " President. '' No, sir. Guards, withdraw the prisoner ! " King. "■ I may speak after sentence by your favor, sir. Hold — I say, sir — by your favor, sir — If I am not permitted to speak " The other parts of his broken attempts to speak were lost in the tumult, and noise. He was taken out of the hall. One would have supposed that all who wit- nessed these dreadful proceedings, and who now saw one who had been so lately the sover- eign of a mighty empire standing friendless and alone on the brink of destruction, would have relented at last, and would have found their hearts yieiding to emotions of pity. But it seems not to have been so. The animosities engendered by political strife are merciless, ftud the crowd through which the king had to TRIAL AND DHATH. L'l'o pass as he went from the hall scoffed and de- rided liim. They blew the smoke of their tobacco in his face, and threw their pipes at him. Some proceeded to worse indignities than these, but the king bore all with quiet- ness and resignation. The king was sentenced on Saturday. On tlie evening of that day he sent a request that the Bisliop of London might be allowed to as- sist at his devotions, and that his children might be permitted to see him before he was to die. There were two of his children then in England, his youngest son and a daughter. The other two sons had escaped to the Conti- nent. The government granted both these re- quests. By asking for the services of an Epis- copal clergyman, Charles signified his firm de- termination to adhere to the very last hour of Ills life to the religious principles which he had been struggling for so long. It is somewhat surprising tliat the government were willing to conjply with the request. It was, however, complied with, and Charles u as taken from the palace of Whitehall, wliieli is in Westminster, to the palace of St. James, not very far distant. lie was escorted by a guard through the streets. At St. James's til ere was a small chapel where the king at- tended divine service. The Bishop of London preached a sermon on the future judgment, in l7~rh»rUil. 226 KIKG CHARLES I. which he administered comfort to the mind of the unhappy prisoner, so far as the sad case al- lowed of any comfort, by the thought that all human judgments would be reviewed, and all wrong made right at the great day. After the service the king spent the remainder of the day in retirement and private devotion. During the afternoon of the day several of his most trusty friends among the nobility called to see him, but he declined to grant them admission. He said that his time was short and precious, and that he wished to im- prove it to the utmost in preparation for the great change which awaited him. He hoped, therefore, that his friends would not be dis- pleased if he declined seeing any persons be- sides his children. It would do no good for them to be admitted. All that they could do for him now was to pray for him. The next day the children, were brought to him in the room where he was confined. The daughter, who was called the Lady Elizabeth, was the oldest. He directed her to tell her brother James, who was the second son, and now absent with Charles on the Continent, that he must now, from the time of his father's death, no longer look upon Charles as merely his older brother, but as his sov- ereign, and obey him as such ; and he re- quested her to charge them both, from him, ] TRIAL AND DEATH. 227 to lore each other, and to forgive their father's enemies. '* You will not forget this, my dear child, will you ? " added the king. The Lady Eliza- beth was still very young. **No," said she, '*! will never forget it as long as I live." lie then charged her with a message to her mother, the queen, who was also on the Conti- nent. " Tell her," said he '' that I have loved luT faithfully all my life, and that my tender regard for her will not cease till I cease to breathe." Poor Elizabeth was sadly grieved at this parting interview. The king tried to comfort her. *' You must not be so afflicted for me," he said. " It will be a very glorious death that I shall die. I die for the laws and liberties of this land, and for maintaining the Protest^.nt religion. I have forgiven all my enemies, and I hope that God will forgive them." The little son was, by title, the Duke of Gloucester. lie took him on his knees, and said in substance, *^ My dear boy, they are going to cut off your father's head." The child looked up into his father's face very ear- nestly, not comprehending so strange an as- sertion. "They are going to cut off my head," re- peated the king, '*aud perhaps they will want 228 KING CHARLES 1. to make you a king ; but you must not "be king as long as your brothers Charles and James live ; for if you do, very likely they will, some time or other, cut off your head." The child said, with a very determined air, that then they should never make him king as long as he lived. The king then gave his children some other parting messages for several of his nearest relatives and friends, and they were taken away. In cases of capital punishment, in England and America, there must be, after the sentence is pronounced, written authority to the sheriff, or other proper officer, to proceed to the execu- tion of it. This is called the warrant, and is usually to be signed by the chief magistrate of the state. In England the sovereign always signs the warrant of execution ; but in the case of the execution of the sovereign himself, which was a case entirely unprecedented, the authori- tios were at first a little at a loss to know what to do. The commissioners who had judged the king concluded finally to sign it themselves. It was expressed substantially as follows : ** At the High Court of Justice for the try- ing and judging of Charles Stuart, king of England, January 29th, 1648 : ** Whereas Charles Stuart, king of England, ha? been convicted, attainted, and condemned TRIAL AND DEATH. 229 of high treason, and sentence was pronounced igainst him by this court, to be put to death by the severance of his head from his body, of which sentence execution yet remainetli to be done ; these are, therefore, now to will and re- quire you to see the said sentence executed in the open street before Whitehall, upon the morrow, being the thirtieth day of this instant month of January, between the hours of ten in the morning and five in the afternoon of the said day, with full effect ; and for so doing this shall be your sufficient warrant." Fifty-nine of the judges signed this warrant, and then it was sent to the persons appointed to carry the sentence into execution. That night the kii.g slept pretty well for about four hours, though during th evening before he could hear in his p«, tment the noiso of tlie workmen building the pla fori or scaf- fold as it was commonly c lied, n which the execution was to take place. He awoke, how- ever, long before day. He called to an attend- ant who lay by his bedside, and requested him to get up. ** I will rise myself," said he, *' for I have a great work to do to-day." He then requested that they would furnish him with the best dress, and an extra supply of under clotliing, because it was a cold morning. He particularly wished to be well guarded from 230 KING CHARLES I. the cold, lest it should cause him to shiver, and they would suppose that he was trembling from fear. ^^I have no fear," said he. *^ Death is not terrible to me. I bless God that I am prepared." The king had made arrangements for divine service in his room early in the morning, to be conducted by the Bishop of London. The b shop cama in at the time appointed and read the prayers. He albO read, in the course of the service, the t went; -ninth chapter of Matthew, which narrates the closing scenes of our Sav- iour's life. This was, in fact, the regular lesson for the day, according to the Episcopal ritual, which assigns certain portions of Scrip- ture to every day of the year. The king sup- posed that the bishop had purposely selected this passage, and he thanked him for it, as he said it seemed to him very appropriate to the occa- sion. " May it please your majesty," said the bishop, *' it is the proper lesson for the day." The king was much affected at learning this fact, as he considered it a special providence, indicating that he was prepared to die, and that he should be sustained in the final agony. About ten o'clock. Colonel Hacker, who was the first one named in the warrant of execu- tion of the three persons to whom the warrant was addressed, knocked gently at the king's chamber door. No answer was returned. Pres- TRIAL AND DEAtFL 231 ently he knocked again. Tlie king asked his attendant to go to the door. He went, and asked Colonel Hacker why he knocked. He replied thq,t he wished to see the king. ''Let him come in," said the king. The officer entered, hnt with great embar- rassment and trepidation. He felt that he had a most awful duty to perform. He informed the king that it was time to proceed to White- hall, though he could have some time there for rest. *' Very well," said the king ; *' go on ; I will follow." The king then took the bishop's arm, and they went along together. They found, as they issued from the palace of St. James into the park through which their way led to Whitehall, that lines of soldiers had been drawn up. The king, with the bishop on one side, and the attendant before referred to, whose name was Herbert, on the other, both uncovered, walked between these lines of guards. The king walked on very fast, so that the others scarcely kept pace with him. When he arrived at Whitehall he spent some further time in devotion with the bishop, and then, at noon, he ate a little bread and drank some light wine. Soon after this, Colonel Hacker, the officer, came to the door and let them know that the hour had arrived. The bishop and Hacker melted into tears as they bade their master farewell. The king 232 KING CHARLES T. directed the door to be opened, and requested, the officer to go on, saying that he would follow. They went through a large hall, called the banqueting hall, to a window in front, through which a passage had been made for the king to his scaffold, which was built up in the street before the palace. As the king passed out through the window, he perceived that a vast throng of spectators had assembled in the streets to witness the spectacle. He had ex- pected this, and had intended to address them. But he found that this was impossible, as the space all around the scaffold was occupied with troops of horse and bodies of soldiers, so as to keep the populace at so great a distance that they could not hear his voice. He, however, made his speech, addressing it particularly to one or two persons who were near, knowing that they would put the substance of it on record, and thus make it known to all mankind. There was then some further conversation about the preparations for the final blow, the' adjustment of the dress, the hair, etc., in which the king took an active part with great composure. He then kneeled down and laid his head upon the block. The executioner, who wore a mask that he might not be known, began to adjust the hair of the prisoner by putting it up under his cap, when the king, supposing that he was going to CA^rtM I./IK6P. :ui B:^©^!!^©© of King Ch^riea i« TRIAL AND DEATH. 238 strike, hastily told liim to wait for tlie sign. Tlie executioner said that he would. The king spent a few minutes in prayer, and then stretched out his liands, which was the sign which he had arranged to give. The ax de- scended. The dissevered liead, with the blood streaming from it, was held wp by the assistant executioner, for the gratification of tlie vast crowd which was gazing on the sceiie. He said, as he raised it, " Behold the head of a traitor ! '' The body was placed in a coffin covered with black velvet, and taken back through the window into the room from which the monarch luid walked out, in life and health, but a few moments before. A day of two afterward it wa3 taken to Windsor Castle upon a hearse drawn by six horses, and covered with black \tlvet. It was there interred in a vault in the chapel, with an inscription upon lead over the coffin : KIXO CHARLES. 1648. After the death of Charles, a sort of republic was established in England, called tlie Com- monwealth, over which, instead of a king, Oli- ver Cromwell presided, under the title of Pro- tector. The country was, however, in a very anomalous and unsettled state. It became 234 KINO CHARLES I. more distracted still after the death of the Pro- tector, and it was only twelve years after be- heading the father that the people of England, by common consent, called back the son to the throne. It seems as if there could be no stable government in a country where any very large portion of the inhabitants are destitute of prop- erty, without the aid of that mysterious but all-controlling principle of the human breast, a spirit of reverence for the rights, and dread of the power of an hereditary crown. In the United States almost every man is the pos- sessor of property. He has his house, his little farm, his shop and implements of labor, or something which is his own, and which he feels would be jeopardized by revolution and an- archy. He dreads a general scramble, knowing that he would probably get less than he would lose by it. He is willing, therefore, to be gov- erned by abstract law. There is no need of holding up before him a scepter or a crown to induce obedience. He submits without them. He votes with the rest, and then abides by the decision of the ballot-box. In other countries, however, the case is different. If not an actual majority, there is at least a very large propor- tion of the community who possess nothing. They get scanty daily food for hard and long- continued daily labor; and as change, no matter what, is always a blessing to sufferers. 236 KING CHARLES T. or at least is always looked forward to as such, they are ready to welcome, at all times, any- thing that promises commotion. A war, a con- flagration, a riot, or a rebellion, is always wel- come. They do not know but that they shall gain some advantage by it, and in the mean time the excitement of it is some relief to the dead and eternal monotony of toil and suf- fering. It is true that the revolutions by which mon- archies are overturned are not generally ef- fected, in the first instance, by this portion of the community. The throne is usually over- turned at first by a higher class of men ; but the deed being done, the inroad upon the es- tablished course and order of the social state being once made, this lower mass is aroused and excited by it, and soon becomes unman- ageable. When property is so distributed among the population of a state that all have an interest in the preservation of order, then, and not till then, will it be safe to give to all a share in the ^yoiver necessary for preserving it ; and, in the mean time, revolutions produced by insurrections and violence will probably only result in establishing governments un- steady and transient just in proportion to the suddenness of their origin. THE END. ALTEN^US' Young People's Library. Price, 50 Cents Each. THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Ar- ranged for young readers. With 70 illustrations. ALICE^S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. With 42 illustrations. THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS AND WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE. (A companion to Alice in Wonderland.) With 50 illustrations. BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Arranged for young readers. With 46 full-page illustrations. A CHILD'S STORY OF THE BIBLE. With 72 full-page illustrations. A CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST. With 49 illustrations. THE FABLES OF ^ESOP. 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It is a book for <^all sorts and condi- tions" of boys, but will be best appreciated by brainy young Americans who do not relish long- winded advice, but welcome " snappy " paragraphs that appeal to their good sense. POOR BOYS' CHANCES. By John Habberton, author of ''Helen's Babies." Cloth, 136 illustrations, 6o cents. "We tried it on the office boy, who is ambitious and industrious, and will some day be a great newspaper proprietor. When asked what he thought of the book he replied : ' Fine.' The book is a great acquisition to any boy." — Cincinnati Times-Star, SEA KINGS AND NAVAL HEROES. By HartweU Jam.es. Cloth, 137 illustrations, 6o cents. "These stories of famous sea fights of the world, with other naval adventures and enterprises, are important as a branch of education, giving as they do adequate ideas of great events and clear conceptions of renowned per- sonages. ' ' — Inter- Ocean, THE STORY OP THE GOLDEN FLEECE. By And- rew Lang. Pictures by Mills Thompson. Cloth, 50 cents. It happened long ago, this adventure of the Golden Fleece, but the fame of the heroes who sailed away to a distant land to win themselves renown for- ever has lived, having been told many times in story and song. Yet who could tell it like Mr. Lang, with his poet's passion for beauty, his artist's eye for color and detail? THE LITTLE BOY AND THE ELEPHANT. By Gus- tavo Frankenstein. Pictures by Gustavo Verbeek. Cloth, 50 cents. BUMPER AND BABY JOHN. By Anna Chapin Bay. Illustrated. Cloth, 50 cents. A GOURD FIDDLE. By Grace MacGowan Cooke. lUus- trated. Cloth, 50 cents. HENRY ALTEMITS COMPANY»S PUBLICATIONS. 11 TRIF AND TRIXY. By John Habberton. Cloth, 50 cents. A story of a dreadfully delightful little girl and her adoring and tormented parents, relatives and friends. DON'TS FOR GIRLS. A Manual of Mistakes. By Minna Thomas Antrim. Cloth, 50 cents. Ooze calf, gilt top, boxed, $1.00. The book is full of wisdom, but not of the stereotyped kind, and has walked straight into populajity. 12 HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED . Good Time Series, Attractive books by popular authors, each containing qualities which children are quick to perceive and appreciate. They strongly appeal to those who judi- ciously select what children shall read. Handsomely printed, profusely illustrated and attractively bound. Cloth, illuminated covers (5^ x 7| inches), 50 cents each. UNDER THE STARS. By Florence Morse Kingsley. Four beautiful stories from the life of Jesus. "A Watch in the Kight." <' The Child in Jerusalem." <'The Only Son of His Mother." "The Children's Bread." Cloth, 50 cents. THE STORY OF THE ROBINS. By Sarah Trimmer. This story has received nothing but praise from the greatest critics ; and it has been illustrated by the best artists. Its purpose is to teach kindness to animals. Cloth, 60 cents. JACKANAPES. By Juliana H. Ewing. In the story of "Jackanapes," the Captain's child, is the one impor- tant figure. The doting aunt, the faithful Tony, the irascible General, the i^ostman, the boy trumpeter, the silent Major, and the ever-dear Lollo, are there, it is true, but they group around the hero in subordinate positions. Cloth, 50 cents. THE CHRISTMAS STOCKING. By Elizabeth Wether- ell. This story of the Christmas Stocking has helped to make many children happy, for witliout it many fathers and mothers would have never thought of making arrangements for the visit of Santa Claus, Cloth, 50 cents. HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 13 LADDIE. By the Author of " Miss Toosey's Mission." A charming story that has been popular many years, and deservedly so. Cloth, 50 ceut«. MAKING A START. By Tudor Jenks. The story of a bright boy who did not wait for '^something to turn up," but exercised his talent for drawing until lie secured a good position on a great daily newspaper. Cloth, 50 cents. THE STORY OF A DONKEY. By Mme. La Cointesse de SOgur. In this book the donkey tells the story of his life and adventure, because, as he says. ''I want you to treat all of us donkeys kindly, and to remember that Ave are often much more sensible than some human beings." Cloth, 50 cents. MISS TOOSEY'S MISSION. By the Author of '< Laddie." A delightful and wholesome story that has had a wide circulation and sti ll holds its popularity. Cloth, 50 cents. JESSICA'S FIRST PRAYER. By Ilesba Stretton. A beautiful and pathetic story which appeals to all chil- dren, and to older readers as well. Cloth, 50 cents. A BLUE GRASS BEAUTY. By Gabrielle E. Jackson. AVith the story of the '' Blue Grass Beauty " is woven that of some very nice peopl ', and all is set forth in Mrs. Jackson's inimitable manner. It is far too good a book to mislay. Cloth, 50 cents. TIIE STORY OF A SHORT LIFE. By Juliaua H. Ewing. JNIany people admire Leonard's story as much as 'Jackanapes." It is a simple, exquisitely tender little afory. Cloth, 50 cents. THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN. By Rudolph Erich Raspe. These stories are so out- rageous, and INIunchausen asserts so strongly that they are all strictly true, that his name has ]>ecome proverbial as a synonym for extra v dgant boasting. Cloth, 50 centa. HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATEL HOLLY-TREE SERIES. A series of j?ood, clean books for yoim^ people, by author? whose fame for delightful stories is world-wide. They are well i)rinted on fine paper, handsomely illustrated, have colored frontispieces, and are bound in cloth deco- rated in gold and colors, 50 cents. THE HOLLY-TREE. By Charles Dickens. THEN MABCHED THE BRAVE. By Harriet T. Comstock. A MODERN CINDERELLA. By Louisa M. Alcott. THE LITTLE MISSIONARY. By Amanda ]M. Douglas. THE RULE OF THREE. By Susan Coolidge, CHUGGINS. By H. Irving Hancock. WHEN THE BRITISH CAME. By Harriet T. Comstock. LITTLE FOXES. By Rose Terry Cooke. \N UNRECORDED MIRACLE. By Florence Morse Kingsley. THE STORY WITHOUT AN END. By Sarah Austin. CSLOVER'S PRINCESS. By Amanda M. Douglas. THE SWEET STORY OF OLD. By L. HaskelL HENRY ALTEMtrS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. ALTEMUS* ILLUSTRATED Mother Goose Series. a series of entirely new editions of the most popular books for young people. Handsomely printed from large, clear type, on choice paper; each volume containing about Dne hundred illustrations. Half vellum, with illuminated sides (6| x8J inches), price, 50 cents each. ALADDIN; OR, THE WONDERFUL. LAMP. OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. BIRD STORIES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE. CINDERELLA; Oil, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER, THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT. JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK. JACK THE GIANT-KILLER. LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. PUSS IN BOOTS. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. WHO KJLIiED COCK ROBINt te HENRY ALTEMTTS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIOKS. ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED Wee Books for Wee Folks. Filled with charming stories, beautifully illustrated with pictures in colors and black and white. Daintily, yet durably bound. 50 cents each. NURSERY TALES. NURSERY RHYMES. THE STORY OF PETER RABBIT. THE FOOLISH FOX. THREE LITTLE PIGS. THE ROBBER KITTEN. ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED Banbury Cross Series. This is a series of old favorites, printed on plate paper ; each volume containing about forty beautiful illustrations, including a frontispiece in colors. Half vellum, wito illuminated sides. Square 16mo. Price, 50 certs eacir. OLD MOTHER HUBBARD. CHICKEN-LITTLE. BLUE BEARD. TOM THUMB. THE THREE BEARS. THE WHITE CAT. THE FAIRY GIFTS. SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED. ALADDIN, OR THE WONDERFUL LAMP. ALI BAJBA AND THE FORTY THIEVES. ONE MONTH USE PLEASE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED EDUCATION-PSYCHOLOGY LIBRARY This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. 1 -month loans may be renewed by calling 642-4209 Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date. ALL BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO RECALL 7 DAYS AFTER DATE CHECKED OUT. DEC 27 1977 REC. CI8.0EC 11 77 LD 2lA-30m-5,'75 (S5877L) General Library University of California Berkeley . VB 36423 p ^ :% £