Charles I had warned his partisans north_A history of England principally in the seventeenth century, Volume 2 (of 6)

assemble round the royal standard, which he should set up

at Nottingham on August 22: for it was thought desirable

to fix the seat of war in the county from which that

declaration of entire devotion had proceeded. This was the

signal, in England as well as in France, which in old times

summoned the feudal vassals to personal service: it was

raised chiefly when great dangers threatened the country,

sometimes against the Welsh, sometimes against the Scots.

And as in the civil wars of France a short time before, by

far the larger part of the nobility had gathered to the [A.D. 1642.]

banner of the legitimate King, so Charles I expected

to assemble round his standard all those who thought

the dignity of the crown endangered by the hostility of

Parliament. As inscription it bore the words ‘Render to

Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,’ and this exactly

symbolised the military authority of the King, the validity

of which was now called in question. The King hastened back

from Coventry in order to be present on the day: on the

afternoon of August 22 the standard was brought with great

ceremony out of the castle of Nottingham into the open

field. When the King and the lords and gentry of his suite

had taken their places--there were several squadrons of

horse and two or three hundred men on foot--a proclamation

was read, in which all faithful subjects were required

to lend aid to the King against the rebellion of the

Earl of Essex. The King had at the very last moment made

alterations in the language of the proclamation, so that

the herald had difficulty in reading it. The standard was

brought back into the castle in the evening: next day the

ceremony was repeated in the presence of the King[350], and

twice more without him. No great and immediate result could

be expected on the spot.

The Parliamentary army gathered in threatening proximity.

The Earl of Essex appeared in the field on September 9, and

advanced to Northampton, with an army of twenty regiments

of infantry and seventy-five squadrons of cavalry, which

were not all of the full complement, but still numbered

from 12,000 to 14,000 men. The formation of this army and

its advance secured the Parliamentary interest in all the

neighbouring counties. The King, who had only 500 horse

and a couple of weak regiments of foot with him, could

not possibly await its approach: he gave up entirely his

first plan of holding Nottingham, as well as of conquering

Coventry and Hull. Some time before he had been urged

to take up his quarters in the north-western provinces.

Warrington in Lancashire had once been suggested as a place [A.D. 1642.]

where his adherents might easily assemble from all sides:

the Stanleys[351] thought it was mere jealousy of their

superior power, which had prevented this being agreed

to. Now however a similar project was adopted. Royalist

opinions were especially prevalent in Worcester, Hereford

and Shropshire. The King, retiring before Essex, went

direct to Shrewsbury, whither the old Lord Mayor after some

hesitation invited him.

Here once more his cause found unexpected sympathy. It was

shown that the feelings of personal devotion and loyalty,

which had bound the vassals to their princes in earlier

centuries, was not yet extinct in England. The elevation

of the royal standard cannot be regarded as barren of

results when, even among those who had hitherto sided

with the Parliament, men were found who could not bear to

stay at home when the royal standard was displayed in the

field[352]. Some joined the King because they had always

heard from their ancestors that they must ever hold to the

crown: others thought it unfair to abandon in his distress

the prince whose bread they had eaten. Some too appeared

in the field who did not unconditionally share the King’s

sentiments; but the attitude of Parliament was still more

offensive to them, and as it would have been counted as

cowardice not to take part in the war when all the world

was rushing to arms, they joined the King. To the majority

his cause appeared by far the better, now that he had

conceded so much and all to no purpose. Many a young lawyer

threw away his long robe in order to fight for the good

cause. Some regarded it as holy, and thought that whoever

lost his life in defending it might be deemed a martyr.

Through the influence of these sentiments an army

assembled in Shropshire around the King, which according

to the notion of that age was worthy of the name--2000

cavalry, 1500 dragoons, and 6000 foot soldiers: and new

reinforcements were expected daily. A great assistance was [A.D. 1642.]

promised by the munitions of war collected at Chester,

which had originally been destined for Ireland, but now

fell into the King’s hands. More money came in than was

expected, and the soldiery were well paid. Some commanders

of great military merit joined the King, such as Jacob

Astley, reputed one of the best major-generals in Europe;

and Ruthven of Ettrick, who had learned the art of war in

Germany, and had won new renown by his defence of Edinburgh

against the Scots,--a man of fire and devotion, and a

thorough soldier. Prince Rupert of the Palatinate, true to

his word, had already made his appearance at Nottingham by

his uncle’s side, as soon as the war broke out, for which

he had offered his aid: he had come over with the Queen’s

assistance, together with his brother Edward. He brought

with him several specimens of military apparatus, in order

to introduce into England, where they were as yet unknown,

the improvements in war material which had been made in

Germany. Especially he trained the cavalry in the tactics

then adopted in Germany. He made many a daring raid through

the country in order to encourage the royalists, harry the

rebels, seize their stores and divert them to the King’s

service. His troopers learned the art of war by practising

it.

The first successful feat of arms fell to Rupert’s lot.

He had occupied Worcester, but abandoned it again as

untenable. His horsemen and officers were bivouacking near

the place, and many had dismounted and were taking their

ease on the grass, when the van of the hostile army was

seen approaching. In a moment they had resumed their arms

and mounted their horses; and with a sudden impetuous

onset the squadrons of Rupert, who was himself surrounded

by the boldest officers, charged the Parliamentary horse

and instantly broke them[353]--a success of no trifling

importance, as it gave the King’s troops confidence in

themselves and in their leaders.

The King, who thus enjoyed the scarcely expected pleasure

of seeing his enemies prisoners before him, now felt that [A.D. 1642.]

he might venture to advance towards the capital. It is

scarcely credible that they should have confidently

expected to be in London within a short time. We even catch

the voices of some who believed it without wishing it: they

were again afraid of the unrestrained domination of the

men who had now most influence with the King. The latter

expected to be obliged to fight on the way, but did not

doubt that he should win the victory, and find it all the

easier to conquer London, where his partisans would rise in

his favour.

Essex in fact could not let the King advance on London,

where continued preparations were going on, but where

things were not yet in a condition to withstand an attack:

the King too could not venture, while Essex followed

him, to advance so far as to place himself between two

hostile armies. When he reached Edgcot on the borders of

Warwickshire, he adopted the advice of the Prince, who now

commanded the rear, on which most depended, that he should

take up a strong position opposite the Parliamentary army,

and attack it before it grew too strong.

On Sunday October 23, the King for the first time saw from

the height of Edgehill his enemies drawn up before him in

full order of battle. It was not till the afternoon that

the two armies came within range. How the people assembled

for worship in the neighbouring parishes must have trembled

when they heard the thunder of cannon from those heights!

In English warfare the different arms were not yet so

well combined in action as in Germany. First the cavalry

measured their strength. The Parliamentarians fired their

carbines and pistols at a badly judged distance, and at

this moment were charged by the Royalists, who put them

to flight at the first shock. It was not a fight, says

one report, but a massacre, and then a headlong pursuit

in which the victors could not be controlled by their

officers: among other booty,--for they were above all

things eager for booty and intent on it,--the carriage of

the Earl of Essex fell into their hands.

But while the Royal cavalry were thus engaged, the

Parliamentary infantry had gained the upper hand. The

regiments raised in London under Essex and Hollis fought [A.D. 1642.]

splendidly: they consisted mainly of young men who had

taken part in the tumults in the city, and had since been

drilled by German corporals and had learned to shoot[354].

These troops, with the horsemen, of whom several troops had

stood their ground, now endangered the King himself: the

forces around him gave way or suffered very severe loss.

Lord Lindsay, who held the rank of Commander-in-chief, but

through the influence of Prince Rupert had been deprived

of his proper command, led his regiment forward, pike in

hand, and was mortally wounded. In the struggle the great

standard fell once into the enemy’s hand, but was rescued

again: the bullets rained in the immediate neighbourhood of

the King. Charles I did not give way to fear: in the midst

of the firing he was heard to call out the watchword of the

day, ‘For God and the King’: his position however was one

of great danger, when at last the cavalry returned from the

pursuit, and restored the balance of arms[355].

Next day both armies remained a mile apart without

engaging. The victory remained undecided, but this gave

the Royalists, who were the weaker, great confidence.

Prince Rupert is said to have proposed to press on with his

cavalry to Westminster and disperse the Parliament. The

rejection of the scheme is ascribed to Lord Bristol. Essex

retreated to Northampton and thence to London. The King

occupied Banbury, and then moved to Oxford, where he was

received with triumph.

Soon afterwards we find him again in the field, to make the

attempt on London once before decided on. On November 4

he was at Reading, on the 10th at Colebrook: he contented

himself with disarming the inhabitants who were hostile

to him, without doing them any other injury, so far as it

depended on him: for he held that he was their lawful King

and they his subjects. On the other side also this feeling

had again spread: even among the troops doubts had been [A.D. 1642.]

raised whether they could rightfully fight against the

King. This opinion was however neither widely enough

spread to take much effect, nor strong enough to make way

against other contrary influences. We are informed that the

attack made by Rupert on Brentford, at a time when it was

thought that a cessation of hostilities might be looked

for, did serious injury to his cause. The London regiments

lay there, and were fearfully handled by the Welsh in the

royal army, who had their failure at Edgehill to atone

for[356], and this rekindled the popular hatred against

the Cavaliers. Fabulous tales were told of the cruelty of

Prince Rupert and his followers, which filled men’s minds

with horror. Parliament declared the attack to be one of

those acts of treachery which were to be expected of the

King. Thus it was decided to offer the most strenuous

resistance to him. The Parliamentary army, reinforced by

the militia, assembled on Turnham Green in battle array:

Essex went from regiment to regiment, and was greeted with

military familiarity as ‘Old Robin’: the short addresses of

Skippon to his men made an equally good impression. Their

superiority was so decided that the King, with the handful

of troops left to him, might think himself lucky to get

back to Oxford without disaster.

The Parliamentary government by its demands for aid had at

this time certainly aroused considerable opposition in the

capital. We are assured that at one time seventy merchants

were in prison for refusing to contribute their means for

arms to be used against the King. In great assemblies of

the citizens Royalist principles were eloquently expressed,

and received with approbation. This could not however have

any practical effect, so long as in the Common Council the

opinions before adopted maintained the preponderance. There

John Pym well knew how to stop all opposition by his usual

persuasive eloquence; and the assembly swore afresh to live

and die with Parliament.

The Parliament however could not prevent every sort of [A.D. 1643.]

negotiation: in February 1643 it again made proposals

to the King. These not only repeat the contents of the

nineteen propositions in respect to the militia; but also

in relation to religion, in conformity with a resolution

passed in the interval, demand in express terms that the

King should sanction the abolition of the old church

organisation from archbishops down to sacristans, and

assent to the bill for a new church government to be agreed

on between the two Houses and an assembly of divines.

When these proposals were laid before the King at Oxford

in the garden of Christ Church, he remarked that those

who made them were not in earnest in seeking peace. There

is a tradition widely spread and often repeated, that in

the personal negotiations which ensued the King professed

himself ready to give way on one material point, but that

next day, under the influence of his immediate attendants,

he made a contrary declaration[357]. We can scarcely

believe however that this decided the question. Between

the views of Parliament and the King’s claims there was a

contradiction so thorough, that no effectual approximation

from which an end to the quarrel might be expected could be

imagined. More was now asked of the King than before the

war: through it he had attained a far better position, and

had no reason for yielding: he might hope in a new campaign

to win a still more favourable position.

The Queen was already come back to England to take

part in the war. The results of the events in England

had necessarily been felt in the Netherlands also. A

commissioner from the Parliament went over, and complained

bitterly of the support which Charles I found in the

Netherlands: and his representations were by no means

slighted by the Estates of Holland, the strongest of the

United Provinces. That Province declared that it desired

no breach with the Parliament, but the maintenance of

neutrality, a necessary condition of which was the

supplying neither of the contending parties with munitions

of war. The States-General also listened to the complaints.

The commissioner recalled the great interests of religion [A.D. 1643.]

and liberty common to the two countries, and the

support which the republic had formerly received from

England. The Queen’s friends replied that the republic

of the Netherlands owed its independence not to the

English Parliament but rather to the English Crown, to

Queen Elizabeth and King James I, the predecessors of

her husband, adding the remark that it might some day

be dangerous for them if a Parliament alone ruled in

England[358]. No one in the States-General ventured to

dispute the principles on which the English Parliament

and the republic of Holland alike rested, but it was not

deemed advisable to be very earnest in their cause. Vessels

laden with arms, which had been detained, were again set

free: English soldiers who wished to go to the King were

allowed to depart, not indeed in companies, but singly. As

at the first moment, so now again, the Queen found it in

her power to strengthen the forces of her husband. She had

not been deceived in the Prince of Orange, who assisted her

at least underhand, for he saw his own advantage in the

maintenance of the Stuart dynasty. How her heart swelled

when events had taken such a turn that she might hope, as

she said, in spite of traitors to return to England and

rejoin her husband. That she had contributed somewhat to

this result satisfied her self-love: it was her pride and

good fortune, especially as her husband recognised it. She

reminded him incessantly in her letters of his promise to

conclude no treaty without having taken her advice upon it.

If he gave up the control of the militia to Parliament only

for a single year, as she heard that he was inclined to

do, he would render both himself and her miserable, there

would be nothing left to her but to retire into a convent.

If only she instead of her son had been with Hotham on

the walls of Hull, she would have seized the traitor and

thrown him over the walls, or he should have done the like

to her. The tidings of a treaty containing concessions, [A.D. 1643.]

which was under negotiation, so excited her that she

burned the letter in which the news was conveyed: she

should like, she said, a reconciliation, but only an

honourable one. Towards the end of the year she had

again collected a supply of military stores, which she

now resolved to convey in person to the King. After many

hindrances, and being more than once driven back by

wind and weather, she landed at last on February 22 at

Burlington, in the East Riding of Yorkshire. But what a

welcome did she receive in England! A couple of English

ships arrived immediately after her, and their crews did

not hesitate to fire on the house in which their Queen had

taken up her abode. The balls broke the windows of her

bedchamber, and flew about her bed. Amidst the whistling of

the shot she quitted the house and the village, and fled

to shelter in the open field with the ladies of her suite:

the men stayed behind to take charge of the vessel in which

were the military stores; had it been necessary she would

have placed herself at their head. It did not however come

to this, as the ebbing tide compelled the ships to quit

the bay. Attended by a long train of cannon, mortars, and

powder waggons, the chivalrous Queen entered York, where

she was received in triumph.

That she had escaped so many dangers by land and sea gave

her infinite confidence in herself and her cause: had

it not been tempting God, she would have gone up to a

cannon’s mouth. In the very first letter after her landing

she urged her husband to come to no resolution until he

had heard further news from her. Writing from York in

March, she declared that if he made peace and disbanded

his army, without having made an end of the everlasting

Parliament, she should be obliged again to quit England,

for she would never fall into the hands of those men. Some

had expected that she would come with the olive branch and

attempt to mediate between the King and Parliament: on the

contrary, she exerted all her influence to urge the King to

unyielding adherence to his prerogative. Her arrival made a

more active plan of operations possible.

The original idea of Charles I had been to open the

campaign by a new advance on London. On the other hand the

Earl of Essex, at the head of the Parliamentary army, [A.D. 1643.]

formed the plan of attacking the King at Oxford. The

first contest must therefore be for Reading, which was

as important for one scheme as for the other. Here Essex

obtained the advantage; on the twelfth day of the siege he

took Reading[359] and fixed his head-quarters there: but

when he advanced nearer to Oxford, Prince Rupert proved to

be stronger.

In one of the skirmishes of that period, on Chalgrove

field, John Hampden was seen to ride to the rear wounded,

for the first time in any such encounter, for he was as

resolute in the field as in parliamentary and political

warfare: a few days later he died, with a presentiment, as

it appears, of the dangers impending over the country. The

royal troops obtained a decisive advantage over William

Waller, who had penetrated into the West, and thence moved

towards Oxford: he was surprised by the unexpected approach

of the royal cavalry, and when he turned to face them at

Roundway Down, was completely defeated. The horsemen of

Waller and Haslerig, who looked like moving fortresses,

gave way before the lighter horse of the Royalists. In

the midland counties also the King’s party had attained

a certain strength: the family of Hastings had gained

the upper hand in Leicestershire, the Cavendishes in

Lincolnshire. The inroads of Prince Rupert kept Essex

employed. Under these circumstances there was no longer

any difficulty in the Queen’s rejoining her husband. She

met him on the field of Edgehill (13 July, 1643), bringing

three thousand infantry, thirty squadrons of cavalry,

some artillery, and ammunition in plenty in a long train

of waggons. She was received in Oxford with endless

rejoicings, the more so as the news of Waller’s defeat

arrived at the same time. With the Queen all good luck and

success seemed to return.

In the same month (July 26) Bristol was taken. At an

earlier period Royalist tendencies had shown themselves

among the magistrates, but had been repressed: now, [A.D. 1643.]

when the outworks were taken, the garrison despaired of

maintaining its ground, and surrendered the place. It was

the second city in the country for wealth and population,

and full of arms which had been intended for the Irish

war. Most of the ships, lying in King’s Road, declared for

the King; and this gave scope for the idea of forming a

fleet for him, which should command the coasts of Wales and

England, and open a communication with Ireland. The hope

now was to take Gloucester, and thus become master of the

Severn, and so of the inland traffic.

This change of fortune produced various favourable

consequences. Hotham, who had been almost the first to

rebel openly, now proposed to surrender to the King the

fortress, which he had twice defended against other

Royalist attacks: he said that he had hardly slept a

night without his sword by his side. Lord Digby, who had

fallen into his power on his return from Holland, seems

to have converted him; and differences which he had with

Fairfax and Cromwell strengthened his resolve. In the

town however Parliamentarian opinions had through his own

influence obtained undisputed predominance; and on the

first suspicion an attempt was made to secure his person.

He was seized while trying to escape, and his son, already

a renowned captain, who had a share in all his affairs, was

taken in the town.

More fortunate was Hugh Cholmely, a distinguished member

of Parliament, at that time Governor of Scarborough. He

took over to the Royalists a body of three hundred men.

The fortress remained for the time in the hands of a

Parliamentary captain, but he also soon went over, and

surrendered the place to the King[360].

In London itself traces were discovered, or at least there

was a talk, of a plot to bring royal troops into the city

and cause a rising of the King’s adherents: a commission

of array had been introduced with great secrecy into

the city, and inquiries had been made privately in the

different parishes, to find out who and how many could be

reckoned on. The intention then was, it seems, to bring [A.D. 1643.]

about a coalition of the Royalists and the friends of

peace[361]. Edmund Waller, a member of the Lower House,

who gave the name to this conspiracy, and in fact had a

great share in it, escaped, on making a full confession,

with fine and imprisonment. Tomkyns his brother-in-law, and

Challoner, who seem to have been more deeply implicated,

forfeited their lives. Their guilt however was not so clear

but that the people regarded their execution as a violent

act of party justice[362].

The Parliament, finding that there were so many in the city

who were calculated on for a conspiracy in favour of the

King, adopted new precautions. We must, said Pym, unite

the good more closely, and have a means of separating them

from the bad. He proposed an oath, in which the cause of

religion was again identified with that of Parliament, and

the King’s army was directly stigmatised as Popish. Every

man was to declare that he was convinced in his conscience

that the forces raised by Parliament were engaged in the

defence of a just cause, of the true Protestant religion,

and of the liberty of the subject, and to promise that he

would support and defend all others who had sworn the oath,

in everything they might do with this object[363]. The two

Houses agreed that this oath should be administered in

the army and among the people. While the King was rising

in strength and his party growing powerful, it seemed

necessary to consolidate afresh the Parliamentary faction.

But what a prospect was this for the nation: how long was

it to fight and ruin itself?

A very singular idea occurred to the Earl of Essex, General

of the Parliamentary army, who felt a sympathy with the

people greater than corresponded to his party position. The [A.D. 1643.]

King, he thought, might go away for a while, then the two

armies might advance to meet one another at a place to

be agreed on beforehand; and they might once more try to

conclude peace, and if that proved impossible, decide the

controversy with the sword. For the quarrel was altogether

within the nation, the two sides having different ideas of

the English constitution: and a battle would be like the

judgment of God between them[364].

In August 1643 it is plain that even in Parliament the

two parties were very nearly equal in strength. The

Lords accepted a scheme by which the armies were to be

disbanded, the two great questions of religion and the

militia settled in parliamentary fashion, and the members

who had been excluded from either House for their Royalist

sentiments or for desertion were to be restored. This last

point warranted a hope that the great disputed questions

themselves might still be settled in a way not altogether

hostile to the crown. Even the King’s suite saw in it a

step towards a return to grounds of recognised legality.

The Lords invited the concurrence of the Commons: on August

5, a Saturday, the question was debated whether these

proposals should be taken into consideration; and even here

the desire for peace was so keen, that it was decided in

the affirmative by a considerable majority; and by a very

narrow majority in a thinner house it was further agreed

that it should be done immediately. One article of the

scheme was at once agreed to, and then further deliberation

was adjourned till the Monday. Had the counsels of

Parliament been guided entirely by the free votes of its

members, it is probable that those who were called the

violent party would have suffered a defeat[365].

But their confederates were still entirely masters

of the city. The idea had before been suggested of

collecting a second army in opposition to Essex, and

placing William Waller at its head, to carry on the war

more energetically than hitherto. The Lords’ proposals [A.D. 1643.]

redoubled the agitation in men’s minds. A petition

was signed to the effect that they were destructive to

religion, law, and freedom, and only calculated to cool

the ardour of those who would otherwise have been ready

to aid with their persons and their substance. On Sunday

the old zeal was rekindled by fiery sermons. On Monday,

as often in decisive moments, crowded masses of people

appeared before Parliament to declare their wish for

war. The unpopular names were greeted with threatening

outcry. Amid this tumult the resolution passed on Saturday

was again discussed. The question whether to take into

consideration the proposals of the Lords was put afresh;

the first division gave a majority of two votes for so

doing: but meanwhile other members had come in, a new

division was taken, and the motion was now rejected by a

majority of seven. The concurrence of the Commons, for

which the Lords had asked, was not merely refused, but the

Lords were invited to join with the Commons in measures of

defence[366].

The Lords felt mortified and injured. They declared the

assemblage of mobs in the vicinity of the two Houses to be

a breach of the privileges of Parliament. Northumberland

and Holland, who now themselves desired a compromise and

peace, repaired to head-quarters in order to induce Essex

to move his troops nearer to the capital, to keep the mob

in check, and re-establish the freedom of parliamentary

debate. Essex inclined rather to the side of the Lords,

having been offended by the resolutions in the city in

favour of Waller: but this circumstance furnished the other

party with the means of winning him back. When Pym and some

other leading members paid him a visit, to assure him that

Waller should remain dependent on him, Essex once again, as

hitherto, chose to give way to the majority: Pym and his

friends maintained the superiority, but, as one sees, with

great difficulty.

Meanwhile Charles I had directed his arms against

Gloucester. The great importance of this town for the

pacification, in a Royalist sense, of the entire west of

England, may be inferred from the King’s having determined [A.D. 1643.]

to besiege it on hearing that Massey the governor, who had

served under one of the Royalist generals, was inclined

to change sides, in defiance of the advice of most of his

counsellors, and especially of the Queen, who would best

have liked a direct attack on London. The King must soon

have become conscious that he had deceived himself: in

reply to his summons he received the correct answer from

the Parliamentary point of view, that he would be obeyed

when his commands were conveyed through the two Houses of

Parliament. The two delegates who brought this message

spoke in a rude and curt tone, and when they left, within

a few paces of the King put on their caps, which bore

orange cockades, the colours of Essex[367]. Bad as the

fortifications of Gloucester were, the citizens made a

good stand behind them. The Londoners had never taken so

much interest in the fate of any other city: some closed

their shops until the news of its relief should arrive.

The troops which Essex led forth on this errand were far

too numerous and too full of warlike zeal for the King to

resist: they repelled partial attacks without difficulty,

and on September 8 Essex entered Gloucester.

It was generally assumed at the time that if the King,

instead of staying before Gloucester, had marched directly

on his divided capital, he would have made himself master

of it. I do not think however that this is at all certain:

London had been fortified on all sides; the ruling party

in Parliament, the magistrates, the Common Council, were

most closely leagued together. At least the King must

first have come to an understanding with Essex, or else

the expectations of the Royalists would probably have been

disappointed in London also.

By Rupert’s advice the King threw himself in the way of

the returning army at Newbury, in order to prevent a

junction between it and the forces which had meanwhile

been collected by Waller. The Prince’s cavalry gave fresh

proof of their surpassing courage in repeated and at length

successful attacks on the enemy’s horse, who however on [A.D. 1643.]

this occasion fought better than before: but their onset

was completely broken on the rampart of pikes of the

Parliamentary infantry; and this time Essex and Skippon

had placed their artillery with great skill at the points

where it would be most effective. The battle consisted of

a series of assaults upon an enemy arrested on his march,

who had taken up a strong position and was prepared to

defend it. The next day Essex expected to be obliged to

cut his way through the Royalist army, but it had retired

during the night: he was able to advance unopposed over

the battle-field[368], and continued his march to London.

The day cost the King some of his best men, such as Lord

Falkland, probably the only one of his contemporaries in

whose praise both parties concurred.

Essex had relieved a town and defeated an attack on his

army, but he had not yet established the superiority of

the Parliamentary party. Exulting in having refuted every

slander which ignorant persons had uttered against him,

and probably hoping that this was done once for all (a

hope which is never fulfilled), Essex, in spite of the

advantages which had been gained, declared in the Common

Council that, in his opinion, peace was necessary.

The war had now lasted in England for a year and a

half. The capital still held firmly to the principles

of parliamentary right which it had once adopted, but,

as the General observed, the war could not be continued

without the possession of a river of gold. It found its

best support in an association formed in Essex, Norfolk,

Suffolk, and Cambridgeshire for common defence, under such

leaders as Parliament should appoint: but even here the

entire and anxious care of the Parliamentary party was

devoted to preventing the gentry from taking part with the

King. Meanwhile a counter association in the North, which

in fact was the earliest of all, between the counties of [A.D. 1643.]

Northumberland, Cumberland, and Westmoreland, had been

formed under the Earl of Newcastle in favour of the King: a

similar one was even then being arranged between Cornwall

and Devonshire, which rejected all commands issued without

the personal participation of the King. In the former

region, the important city of York, where the Royalist

resistance had originated, had been confirmed in its

attitude by Newcastle’s victories: in the latter, Prince

Maurice of the Palatinate had just taken the strong town

of Exeter. In Dorset the Parliament had only a couple of

fishing villages left; in Somerset and Wilts not a foot

of land; in Hampshire all the people were on the King’s

side. In the midland counties, Nottingham and Lincoln, from

which the King had been obliged to retire a year earlier,

his superiority was indisputable: in Northampton his party

was at least equal in strength to that of the Parliament;

Bedford was occupied by Prince Rupert in October. There was

a plan for a rising of the King’s adherents in Kent, where

they had hitherto been with difficulty kept down; and this

it was hoped would have an effect on London.

In addition to these advantages peace had been restored

in Ireland. In May 1642 a synod assembled at Kilkenny had

given the country an independent organisation: a council

of twenty-four members, in which the four archbishops

sat, was appointed to direct public affairs. This council

entered into communication with Pope Urban VIII, who was

greatly pleased that the land of saints should be purged

of heretics. Through the dissensions that had broken out

between the King and the Parliament, the English forces

could achieve nothing in Ireland; it was expected that in

a short time all the surviving Protestants would be at the

mercy, or the unmercifulness, of the Irish rebels. Moreover

the principles of the Parliament at Westminster were by no

means entirely dominant among the Protestants in Ireland:

on the contrary the King had still power enough to remove

from their offices men who professed such opinions, and

to replace them with his own adherents. A moderate middle

party was formed, in which the Earl of Ormond was the chief

personage. Between these however and the united Catholics

there was no irreconcileable breach, as the Catholics [A.D. 1643.]

continued to treat the King as their sovereign lord,

whose prerogative they were ready to defend against all

the world. Thus it became possible in September 1643 for

a truce to be agreed on between the two parties. The

Catholics granted the King a subsidy of £30,000.

A great prospect was opened besides by the death of

Cardinal Richelieu, and soon afterwards of Louis XIII. The

Cardinal towards the end of his life had again begun to

exhibit some sympathy for Queen Henrietta; but she might

expect much more now that her old friend, Queen Anne, was

Regent of France. The party which immediately rose to

power was the one to which the Queen herself had belonged.

Moreover Charles I expected arms, money, and even men from

the King of Denmark[369].

It was in fact doubtful whether Parliament would not be

obliged to yield to a combination of so many hostile

forces: it had already, feeling this, renewed its dealings

with the Scottish Covenanters.

FOOTNOTES:

[346] Letter of Montague from the Hague: ‘Elle n’a jamais

temoigné apprehension dans les preparatifs de la mort, que

pour les affaires de Dieu et de son mari.’

[347] Zuanne Zon, segretario Veneto de Haya, 16 Giugno.

‘La regina vedendo la piega di quelli affari favorevoli

alquanto al re marito, non sollicita la mossa di quei

ministri.’

[348] The state of the whole kingdom 1642. According to

this the King declared that he had as much right to Hull as

any lord of a manor to his country house.

[349] The desires and propositions proposed to Sir John

Hotham, with Sir John Hotham’s answers. Letter of Mills,

July 1642.

[350] Giustiniani mentions, under date of August 22,

that the standard had been set up the week before. This

is not actually false, as it was at first displayed from

the castle, which the King did not approve. The error of

Clarendon, who gives August 25, may arise from the various

repetitions. The 22nd is beyond a doubt the true date. Cp.

‘True and exact Relation’ in Somers Tracts iv.

[351] ‘Memoirs containing a genealogical and historical

account of the house of Stanley’ (Manchester, 1767) contain

an abstract of the memoranda of James Lord Stanley, which

enlarge on these matters, not without some self-sufficiency.

[352] Letter of Bevill Grenville, in Nugent ii. 195.

[353] Giustiniani: ‘Ambiduc li palatini (Maurice also was

present) Roberto in particulare hanno con spavento degli

inimici dato nuove prove di valore, et acquistatosi col

grido universale gli applausi di tutti quelli che bramano

favorevoli successi all’ arme reali.’

[354] Sanderson’s Life of Charles I, 585. ‘They stood

the brunt of the battle; most of their men being London

prentices, fresh and good firers, did bold service.’

[355] Relation of Edgehill fight, in Carte’s Letters i.

9. Another Royalist account in Spalding ii. 200. Account

of the battle as published by order of the Parliament.

Rushworth v. 35.

[356] Giustiniani: ‘Professandosi del sangue e delle

fortune di Vasalli suoi, ancorchè contumaci, estremamente

avaro, clemenza che fratante virtu è la piu predicata di S.

M.’

[357] Whitelocke’s Memorials 65.

[358] Dispaccio di Zuanne Zon segretario all’ Haya. October

29, 1642. (Arch. Veneto, Olanda) ‘che s’avessero questi

Signori confinanti l’Inghilterra dominata dal parlamento,

come havean havuto il re, potria avvenire che in breve

spatio se ne chiamasse L’Hollanda pentita. Queste ultime

voci commossero grandemente e accrebbero qualche scintilla

di generosita gia penetrata nell’ animi del governo.’

[359] Whether Fielding, who surrendered the town, was

guilty of treachery or not, I cannot pretend to determine.

The Venetian secretary deems him guilty, Clarendon acquits

him.

[360] May’s History of the Long Parliament 305.

[361] Challoner’s words just before his execution leave no

doubt of this purpose: ‘That if we could make a moderate

party here in London, to stand betwixt and in the gap to

unite the King and the Parliament, it would be a very

acceptable work.’ Waller says: ‘For the propositions of

letting in part of the King’s army, or offering violence

to the members of this house, I ever disallowed or utterly

rejected them.’ Parl. Hist. xii. 322.

[362] Agostino, 24 Giul.: ‘Non havea prodotto buon effetto

la morte dei primi nel universal del popolo.’

[363] Journal of Commons, June 6, 1643.

[364] ‘Both armies may be drawn near the one to the other,

that if peace is not concluded, it may be ended with the

sword.’ Brixhill, July 9, 1643, in Rushworth vi.

[365] ‘On the first division the Yeas were 94, the Noes 68;

on the second the Yeas were 70, the Noes 68.’ Journals iii.

167.

[366] D’Ewes, in Sanford 576.

[367] Journal of the Siege of Gloucester, in Warburton ii.

281.

[368] Detailed narrative from the Parliamentary side, in

May’s Hist. of the Long Parliament 347: the report in

Rushworth v. 293 is based on this: Clarendon’s account

agrees with it on the whole very well. Agostini: ‘Fra

le dispute resta inviluppata la vittoria che è stata

solennizata con fuochi in Oxford, e con ringraziamento

nelle chiese qui.’

[369] Instructions to Colonel Cochran. Harleian Misc. vii.

532.

CHAPTER III.

FRESH INTERFERENCE OF THE SCOTS. CAMPAIGN OF 1644.

We must again turn our attention to the affairs of

Scotland, and the internal struggles there. In the autumn

of 1641 the King had made his comprehensive concessions

to the Scots, in order to obtain their neutrality in his

contest with the English Parliament. He thought he had

personally made sure of the leading Covenanters, whom his

concessions chiefly benefited. They had promised to live

and die for him, in matters of temporal authority, and

not to interfere in ecclesiastical disputes, in spite of

their sympathies in favour of uniformity, except when he

himself desired it[370]. For as he attributed his previous

misfortunes to the alliance of the Scots and the English,

he calculated on being strong enough, by satisfying the

former, to resist the latter. Hence came his unyielding

demeanour at the end of the year 1641, his departure from

the capital, whereby he thought to secure a retreat into

Scotland in case of necessity, and even the resolution to

take up arms. Hamilton, who had been restored to favour,

and for a long time had occupied his seat in the English

Upper House, was one of the lords who assembled round the [A.D. 1643.]

King at York, and strengthened him in his unconciliatory

attitude. He then hastened into Scotland to exert his

newly recovered influence there for the maintenance of a

good understanding with the King. He was never weary of

reminding men like Argyle and Loudon that they themselves

and the Scots in general were pledged to the King, that

he had fallen into all his difficulties through them,

and that it would redound to their everlasting honour

if they rescued him from them. It appears that their

representations were not altogether fruitless. The two

other leaders at least assented to his wish that the Queen

should come to Scotland. The Privy Council, which conducted

the government there, had been for a long time more

favourable to the King than to the Parliament.

Had the Scottish aristocracy, like the English, sided

_en masse_ with the King, the monarchy would have been

established throughout Great Britain on the old basis.

But the religious difficulty had made this impossible: for

the difference between the English and Scottish nobility

lay in the fact that the latter had abolished Episcopacy,

while the former wished to maintain it, at least in

England. Some Scots, for instance the Hamiltons, would

have agreed to this, but by no means all. The Presbyterian

clergy, on the contrary, were of the opinion, and expressed

it with public authority in the General Assembly, that

Episcopacy must be rooted out in England also, if the work

of God was to be finished. Moreover the ruling grandees

were afraid that the King would revoke all his concessions,

as soon as he again obtained power[371]; they feared in

that case to see their enemies exalted, for the old schism

of the nobility was still in full operation. Argyle’s party

could not go on long with the Hamiltons, when these drew

together again.

It is intelligible that in this condition of the public

mind every event in England should react on Scotland.

The first encounter of the two parties took place at a

sitting of the Privy Council in December 1642. The question [A.D. 1643.]

was, whether of two opposing declarations made by the King

and the English Parliament, which had been communicated

together at the sitting, only the first, that of the King,

or both alike should be printed. Hamilton and Lanerick

observed that they owed duty to the King, but none to

Parliament, and that the question was whether they would

obey him or not. Argyle and Balmerino would not hear

of commands and obedience in this tone, which would be

reverting to the state of things in the old episcopal

times. At this moment the Hamilton party was still the

stronger: eleven members against nine determined that the

King’s declaration should be printed, and not that of the

Parliament[372].

In the state of parties this resolution of course created

a great sensation. It implied a leaning towards the King’s

cause on the part of the Scottish government, which was

highly offensive to the earnest Covenanters. It was a

trumpet-blast, says Baillie, which awoke us all.

The gentry of Fife, the most zealously Presbyterian

association among the laity, flocked up to urge a repeal of

the resolution; and similar petitions poured in from other

counties, which were supported by many of the presbyteries.

In pursuance of an act of Parliament, a new committee,

called conservators of the peace, had just then been called

into existence, and most of its members were Covenanters:

in concert with them and the church commission, the Privy

Council was obliged to declare that its publication of the

King’s declaration implied no agreement with it: and the

Parliamentary declaration had now to be printed also.

The matter was not ended yet: the fear gained ground that

this resolution was only the first step to a greater

scheme; that it would be proposed to arm for the King; that

all the violent Royalists, the old Bonders, would be called

upon to destroy the good patriots, their opponents[373].

The zealous Presbyterians spoke in a tone from which the [A.D. 1643.]

King’s friends gathered that they would probably side

with the Parliament against the King. To counteract this

the Hamiltons put in circulation a petition in which they

expressed their strong desire for ecclesiastical uniformity

with England, but with the double limitation, first that

they had no right to force on a neighbouring kingdom any

forms of worship, on which only the legal authority could

decide, and next that the league with England did not set

the Scots free from the duty which bound them to their

hereditary king[374]. Instead of quieting opposition,

this petition only made it more vehement. For the Church

valued the advancement of religion far more highly than any

political interest, and thought itself justified by treaty

in establishing ecclesiastical uniformity at any price, and

even imposing it on the King. The petition was denounced in

sermons, and signing it declared to be a crime: the church

commission caused a counter declaration containing very

violent language to be read from the pulpits.

There was a feeling throughout the country as though

the outbreak of a new war was at hand: in February 1643

the noise of drums was believed to have been heard, and

contending armies seen, in the air[375]. ‘Our neighbours’

houses are on fire,’ says Baillie, ‘and we already perceive

in our own the smell of the burning.’

Immediately afterwards, through the influence of Argyle’s

adherents and the Church, a deputation waited on the King,

to urge him immediately to summon a Scottish Parliament,

and to make an attempt at mediation between him and the

English Parliament.

The King rejected both suggestions, saying that he would

abide by the arrangement already made for triennial

parliaments, and that he would not allow his subjects

in one kingdom to interfere in his differences with the

other. Still he aimed at quieting the agitation of the

Scots by his representations and by convincing them of his

good intentions. He told them that, so far from attacking

parliamentary rights and the Protestant religion, he was

defending both, the former against a faction which had [A.D. 1643.]

expelled most of the members of both Houses, and the latter

against Anabaptist sectaries. The Hamiltons were still

confident that, if only all the King’s adherents who were

now with him came back at the right moment, they would have

a majority in the next Assemblies. Hamilton and Montrose

went to meet the Queen on her arrival in the north of

England. Montrose represented to her that the interference

of the Scots on behalf of the English Parliament was as

good as decided, and that its evil consequences could only

be averted by organising, under royal authority, an attack

on the Covenanters in Scotland itself. Hamilton declared

that Scotland could be held to its allegiance without

bloodshed: was he really persuaded of this, or, as was said

at the time, was he unable to come to an agreement with

Montrose as to the command of a Royalist army?

Meanwhile the three leading commissions,--the conservators

of the peace, the church commissioners, and a third for

taxation,--united, not without the previous sanction of

the Privy Council, for care was taken whenever possible

to maintain legal forms: on being apprised of the King’s

refusal to summon a parliament, they proceeded to take

counsel how this might be met, and formed a determination

which was the completion of their earlier steps tending

towards the independence of the Estates. Relying on some

rather dubious precedents of earlier times, they held that

they had the power to summon an Assembly of the Estates

without the King, which they designated a Convention.

Hamilton declared this to be a breach of their agreement

with the King: the crown advocate, Thomas Hope, contested

the legality of the measure: it was however accepted, and

that before the King’s friends arrived from England, ‘since

the importance of the matter in question so required’: the

writs were at once issued under the Great Seal, which had

already in Scotland been removed from the King’s personal

disposal.

Just at this time the proposal was made at Westminster

to enter into a new alliance with the Scots: messages

relating to an embassy to be despatched for this purpose

were exchanged between the two Houses[376]. Long before [A.D. 1643.]

this, Pym, who always maintained a good understanding with

Argyle, had been heard to assert confidently that the

Scots were ready to come to the help of Parliament. After

all that had passed it might be assumed that there was an

agreement between the leaders of the parties in the two

countries.

Among the deputies who went to Scotland for the purpose

of forming a new alliance, the most active and important

was Henry Vane the younger, not exactly a man of strict

Presbyterian principles: indeed most of the leading men

were not at heart devoted to them, though at this time,

more than at any other, they mounted Presbyterian colours.

On June 12 an assembly of persons spiritual and temporal

was convoked at Westminster, to reorganise the constitution

of the Church and public worship on principles opposed

to those of the bishops, and the Scots were invited to

take part in it. Nothing could have afforded greater

satisfaction to their religious pride, or offered a more

lively incentive to their ecclesiastical ambition[377].

The Convention of the Scottish Estates met on June 22,

at Edinburgh, side by side with the Committees which had

summoned it. The Hamiltons had obtained the subsequent

recognition of the Convention by the King, on condition

that it confined its attention to certain points only,

relating mainly to pecuniary differences between the two

countries. The first question which the Assembly had to

determine was whether or not it would acknowledge this

limitation,--a point of immense constitutional importance,

as it involved the maintenance or abandonment of its

personal dependence on the King. The Hamiltons tried

to show that the Assembly would be null and void if it

overstepped the prescribed limits[378]. On the other side

it was maintained that the authority of the Great Seal

sufficed for subjects. On a division the Assembly by a

large majority declared that it formed a free Convention.

From among the gentry only a single member declared for [A.D. 1643.]

the Hamiltons; but they found more support among the

nobility, eighteen of whom maintained the view that the

Assembly was altogether bound by the King’s writ: even

these however did not venture on a direct protest, but

contented themselves with expressing their disapproval and

staying away from the sittings.

Thus it came to pass that in spite of all concessions there

was again in existence in Scotland an Assembly opposed to

the royal will, having unlimited claims, which it held to

be grounded in right, and formed on purpose to proceed to

the very measure which the King had sought to obviate by

his compliance, a new alliance with England. We need not

assert positively that at the time when these promises were

made to the King there was any intention of violating them:

only they were not so precise as to close every loophole.

Obedience and loyalty were not the feelings which swayed

men’s minds: altered relations had brought other sentiments.

Special considerations were urged in support of the general

intention. The war between the two parties in England,

it was observed, threatened the Scottish frontiers, and

nothing could secure their territorial interests but a new

advance into England: this could not be done in alliance

with the King, because he was too poor, but might well be

done in league with the Parliament: neutrality at any rate

could not be maintained. Moreover the advantages gained

at this moment by the royal army in England were watched

with considerable apprehension, since the King was still

surrounded by the men against whom the Scots had from the

first contended, and if he again became master, he would

be sure to find a pretext for revoking all that he had

granted to the Scots, and avenging himself on those who had

deprived him of the possession of power[379].

Thus all motives alike,--religious, territorial, and even

pecuniary interests, fear of the immediate success of the

royal arms and the effects of this in the future, the

hatred and jealousy of faction,--combined to urge the Scots [A.D. 1643.]

to accept the English proposals. They acted in this, even

from their own point of view, without thorough foresight:

there were other powers in England besides the King

and Parliament by which their political and religious

independence might be endangered. They were not quite blind

to this fact, but as usual only the nearest and most direct

interests came fully within their horizon.

Never perhaps were the plenipotentiaries sent to ask for

assistance expected with greater eagerness by those who

were to grant the help than the English on this occasion

by the Scots: the General Assembly, which had just met,

regarded it as a grievance that they were kept waiting.

At last came the news that they had landed at Leith (Aug.

6), for, as was to be expected, they had made the journey

by sea. They were received with the same forms as the

Scottish commissioners in London: they were to communicate

not directly with the two Assemblies, but with a commission

appointed from these for the purpose. On August 9 they

produced their instructions, which were to the effect that

the two nations should jointly take up arms against a

Popish and prelatical faction, and not lay them down until

the faction was disarmed and subjected to the authority

of Parliament in both nations, the army of the Scots

to be paid out of the revenues of the malignants under

the control of Parliament. It was especially urged that

otherwise the good beginnings of a new church organisation

in England must necessarily be interrupted through the

strength of the enemy: against this danger the English

Parliament desired the prayers of the General Assembly, and

above all their co-operation by effective means.

It was evident from the negotiations that the English

cared most for the political, the Scots for the religious

connexion. The English gave way to most of the demands of

the Scots, seeing clearly that without this nothing would

be attainable; and especially on the following point.

The Scots would not allow what the King had said, as to

his being chiefly opposed by the separatist sects, to be

applied to them, and rejected every allusion to those

sects. One such allusion might originally have been found [A.D. 1643.]

in the words which were approved in the treaty, that the

parties pledged themselves to a reformation of the Church

of England according to the Word of God: for a great deal

might be deduced from these words. The Scots however

anticipated any explanation of this kind, by insisting

on its being expressly added that the reformation should

be made on the model of the best reformed Churches, and

that the Churches in the three kingdoms should be brought

into the closest connexion and uniformity in respect of

doctrine, discipline, and public worship. Nothing in fact

was to be expected but the extension of the Scottish system

to the other two kingdoms. The abolition of the prelacy in

all its branches, and the punishment of all malignants,

were expressly stipulated. Thereupon they promised[380]

to defend the privileges of Parliament and the liberties

of the realms, unanimously and heartily, with body and

goods, in every place, reserving however the rightful

authority of the King. The Scots felt the danger of the

alliance into which they were again entering. Just at this

time arrived the news of the fall of Bristol, which made

a profound impression: it was, says Baillie[381], a great

act of faith, a high courage, unexampled sympathy, that

our people endangered its own peace, and ventured life and

all to save a nation which in every man’s eyes was already

lost. We cannot doubt that religious conviction had much to

do with this. When the moderator in the General Assembly

produced the draft of the Covenant between the two nations,

worthy, wise, and aged men were seen to burst into tears

of religious satisfaction and joy. The draft was again

read, and every one invited to express his opinion upon it.

Though here and there dissentient views were uttered, they

were stated with so much reservation, that the adoption of

the Covenant may be regarded as unanimous. The religious

zealots saw with delight that the great neighbouring kingdom

would accept their church system, and greeted as a good omen [A.D. 1643.]

the coincidence that the abolition of Episcopacy in

England was now decided on the same day of the month on

which, four years before, the same thing had been done

in Scotland. It was a momentous step, to advance from

a system of defence to one of proselytising, and if it

failed, would bring on their heads all the vicissitudes

of the war: but the Scots took it boldly. The Convention,

like the Assembly, adopted the New Covenant, and before

it separated published a proclamation by which every man

between the ages of sixteen and sixty was required to hold

himself ready to appear in the field fully armed, within

twenty-four hours after the summons thereto should be

issued.

After the English Parliament, which in this matter

was guided by the Assembly of Divines at Westminster,

had accepted the Covenant with few and insignificant

alterations, the oath to maintain it was solemnly taken in

the church at Edinburgh by the committee of the General

Assembly and the Convention, and by the English deputies.

This was on a Friday: the next Sunday the Covenant was

recommended to the people from the pulpits, and signed and

sworn to by all. Similar scenes took place in London. On

September 25 the Covenant was read from the pulpit of St.

Margaret’s, Westminster, the numerous congregation raising

their hands in token of assent. Then the parchment roll on

which it was inscribed was signed first by the members of

the Assembly of Divines and the Scottish Commissioners, and

then, after blessing had been pronounced, by the members

of the two Houses of Parliament: this was repeated in the

churches of the capital and of the counties in the power

of the Parliament[382]. It was the first act in which the

union of the two kingdoms took effect. What the King and

his bishops had failed to accomplish was thus achieved by

John Pym and the Presbyterian preachers.

The alliance of the two countries was the work above all

of John Pym. With him had originated, or at any rate had

found conscious expression, the idea of giving life to the

opposition in England by means of an understanding with [A.D. 1643.]

the Scots. He above all men had contrived the coincidence,

which at the outset decided everything, between the first

Scottish invasion and the election of a thorough opposition

Parliament. It may be true, as has been said, that he took

no such keen interest as others in uprooting the bishops on

grounds of doctrine: but this was the object which united

Scottish and English Puritans, and these again with the

daily increasing Independents. He adopted it as a great

political necessity, and held to it firmly, although the

English revolution was thus led far beyond its original

aim. His views were directed not to the restoration of

equilibrium between the Crown and Parliament, but to

the establishment of the completed preponderance of the

Parliamentary power, and this implied the subjection of

the spiritual element also. The alliance of the Puritan

and Parliamentary ideas both answered this purpose and

supplied the means for carrying it out. Parliament was

connected with the disaffection of the city through

religious ideas. John Pym was the originator of the tactics

which called upon the masses at the decisive moments of

parliamentary contests; he knew how to back the aspirations

of the faction which he led by the regular recurrence of

tumultuous popular demonstrations in the great capital. On

his connexion with London he based his audacious resolve to

deprive royalty, in which the power of the conqueror was

perpetuated, of the arms which constituted its splendour

and greatness. In order to obtain power to bring into

the field for this purpose a popular army, without being

dependent on the voluntary assent of every single man, he

adopted the decisive means of taxing the necessaries of

life: for he was a financier by profession, and was the

first to introduce excise into England. In other political

measures he derived encouragement and example from the

Scots, with whose chief leaders he always maintained close

relations. This was indispensable for both parties, not

only as against the King and his declared adherents, but

also against the moderate party which desired a peaceful

solution. When Pym and his friends again had to fear the

superior power of the King they did not hesitate once more [A.D. 1643.]

to call in the Scots, though some objection was felt to

them on account of their exclusive Presbyterianism; and

Argyle, who could not endure friendly relations between

the King and the country, because this would raise his own

immediate rivals to importance, came forward to meet him,

in order by this means to overcome them. Argyle and Pym

joined hands across a wide expanse. While everything was

being prepared for carrying out the New Covenant, John Pym

died (Dec. 6, 1643), worn out by the fearful efforts of the

war, by the exciting alternations of danger and success,

of defeat and victory. He possessed talents created for

times of revolution, capable at once of shaking and

destroying existing institutions and of establishing new

ones, as resolute in passing great measures as in devising

small means: audacious in his projects, but practical in

executing them, at once active and unyielding, bold and

prudent, systematic and pliant, full of thought for his

friends, devoid of all consideration for those against

whose rights he was battling. In Pym there is something

both of Sieyès and of Mirabeau: he is one of the greatest

revolutionary leaders known to history. Characters like

his stand midway between the present, which they shatter

for ever, and the future, which however generally develops

itself on principles different from those which they have

laid down. The parliamentary and religious system of John

Pym failed to establish itself, but its influence is

nevertheless immeasurable: it consists in the opposition

offered to the combination in royalty of spiritual and

political tendencies, in the crown being brought back

into the track of parliamentary government, in the

preparation made for the fusion of the English and Scottish

nationalities. Pym before his death had prepared everything

for a new advance in the great contest. By his activity

a considerable payment had been made to the Scots on

account of the original cost of arming and of the subsidies

(£31,000 monthly) which had been promised to them, so that

the levies there were progressing satisfactorily. The Scots

had promised to take the field with 18,000 foot soldiers

and 3000 cavalry, and were now ready in spite of the hard

winter to cross the border. Meanwhile two new armies had

been raised in England besides that of Essex, one under

Waller, for which new levies in Sussex and Kent were [A.D. 1643.]

appointed, and the other under Kimbolton (Mandeville),

who now since the death of his father appears as Lord

Manchester, in the associated eastern counties.

The King had but one possible resource in the world to

oppose to these accessions of strength to his enemies. He

might have done what he was always given credit for wishing

to do, namely, make a league with the Irish rebels, who

fully recognised his prerogative in respect to England and

were willing to maintain it. But this was impossible after

the Irish massacre: the King would have raised against him

the entire Anglo-Saxon and Protestant element, on which

after all his crown as it was depended. At least he could

never venture publicly to concede to the supreme council

of the Irish full religious liberty, although personally

he would have been inclined to do so. A few regiments came

to his assistance from Ireland, but they were Protestants,

no longer required there after the truce that had been

agreed on. They were distributed among the different

royal corps, and proved very useful: among other things

they were present when Prince Rupert raised the siege of

Newark, a step absolutely necessary for the maintenance of

communications between Oxford and York: but this was very

little in comparison with the aid afforded to the other

side by the Scots.

The King was not without some sources of assistance in

Scotland itself. He had long hesitated between Hamilton

and Montrose, but was also induced by the course of events

to give the preference to the latter. Hamilton, whom

the court accused of treason, when he came to Oxford to

defend himself, was arrested and imprisoned: the King

assented, though unwillingly, and without being convinced

of his guilt; for some of his firmest adherents openly

threatened that otherwise they would quit him[383]. While

Hamilton was expiating his dubious politics in a castle in

Cornwall, Montrose, who had also come to Oxford, was made

Lieutenant-General of the King’s forces which had been, or

hereafter should be, levied in Scotland. There was still,

as we know, a Royalist party in Scotland, not only in the [A.D. 1644.]

north, where here and there men deemed it an honour to

be classed among the malignants, but also in the central

counties. Montrose was fully determined to unite these

round his standard.

It is astonishing that the King, in spite of all

the hostility exhibited toward him by the English

Parliament--of which he regarded the renewed alliance with

the Scots as one of the greatest proofs--did not even now

take the step of declaring it dissolved. His reason was

that this would have been to retract a concession solemnly

made, and so to give occasion for doubt as to the validity

of all the other statutes passed by this Parliament,

many of which his own adherents would not surrender. As

always, when between opposing and irreconcilable views,

Charles I adopted a middle course. He declared that, in

consequence of the tumults that had taken place in the

previous July, the Parliament at Westminster was no longer

a free Parliament, and summoned to Oxford all who had been

expelled or who had fled from Westminster, in order to

form out of them an assembly which should represent a free

Parliament. There were 83 of the Lords, 175 of the Commons,

a far greater number than remained at Westminster. On

January 22, 1643/4, the King opened the sittings at Oxford.

Declaration was at once made here, in a form corresponding

to ancient custom, that the proceedings of the Scots were

to be treated as a declaration of war, and their invasion

of English territory as an actual commencement of war and a

breach of the treaty, and consequently that all Englishmen

who should favour or assist their expedition were traitors

and enemies of the country[384]. The Parliament at

Westminster itself was in this case. After the Chancellor

of the Exchequer had produced his budget, votes were

taken for the necessary subsidies and for new taxes: and

here, as in Edinburgh and London, recourse was had to the

excise. The declaration was repeated with special emphasis

that the King had taken up arms only in defence, for the

maintenance of the Protestant religion, the laws of the

land and the privileges of Parliament. If Charles I meant [A.D. 1644.]

nothing more than to assert the nullity of the Parliament

at Westminster, without pronouncing its dissolution and

rescinding the acts by virtue of which it had sat so long,

he had attained his end, but he could expect to produce no

further result. The question which of the two Parliaments

was to be deemed the rightful one, must be decided by the

sword.

The King could only reckon on his old adherents and the

forces already raised, when in the spring of 1644 this

double storm began to break over him.

We will direct our attention first to the King’s campaign

against the Parliamentary army under Essex and Waller, and

then to the events consequent on the Scottish invasion.

The first began with gloomy forebodings--so much so that

the Queen, then near her confinement, hastened to quit

Oxford and resort to Exeter, as a place where she would be

safer--and at great disadvantage.

The King was only able to bring into the field 10,000 men

to encounter the two armies which were set in motion under

Essex and Waller at the beginning of May, each of which

was about 10,000 strong. Prince Rupert had recommended

that the infantry should be distributed in the fortified

places in front--Reading, Abingdon, Wallingford, Oxford,

Banbury; and that the cavalry should join the troops in the

western counties, so that while one of the Parliamentary

armies was occupied with the siege of those places, they

might be a match for the other in the open field[385].

The council of war however which surrounded the King, and

in which some members of the Privy Council, Digby and

Colepepper, took part, could not resolve on this course,

preferring to abandon some of the fortresses and unite

their garrisons with the field force, in the hope that the

latter would succeed in compelling the two Parliamentary

armies, whose commanders it was well known did not agree,

to fight separately from each other. The Royal troops

abandoned first Reading and then Abingdon, and moved

on Oxford to wait for their opportunity. The immediate

consequences however were not what was expected. Both the [A.D. 1644.]

Parliamentary generals advanced towards Oxford, and

though they were not altogether on good terms, co-operated

effectually with one another. While Waller forced the

passage of the Isis, Essex could not be kept beyond the

Cherwell: both marched on the city, which was all the

less ready for resistance because it was not provisioned

for receiving so large a garrison. The report was spread

abroad that the King was already a prisoner: the Parliament

issued a decree relating to this possibility--we learn that

even in the King’s own neighbourhood it was regarded as

unavoidable. He was urged to treat in time with Essex, for

otherwise he would become his prisoner. The King replied

that it was possible this might happen, but at least he

would not survive it[386]. He was determined, whatever

might be the consequences, to try the fortune of war once

Charles I had warned his partisans north of the Trent to