The object of the peace negotiations, which after

much delay were at last agreed on, was not only a

reconciliation with the King, but also the establishment

of an ecclesiastical and political system complete at all

points. The chief author of the articles produced was the

man who long before had given the most consistency to the

revolutionary movement in Scotland, Johnston of Warriston:

he sketched them out in April 1644, carried them in the

Committee, and then went with them to Scotland, where the

Parliament made some few additions, especially the names

of those who were not to be pardoned without the assent

of Parliament. Through his influence the articles with

these additions were accepted, first by the Committee

unanimously, and then by the two Houses. In November they

were laid before the King.

The introduction of Presbyterianism, by the acceptance of

the Covenant itself, was insisted on in them more strictly

than ever; they also retained the parliamentary control

of the militia, and demanded a renewal of the war against

the Irish[402]. What was thought of these proposals in the

outer world is indicated by the observation of the French

ambassador, that Charles I, if he accepted them, might as

well discard the title of King; for under these conditions

he would be scarcely more than the first man in a republic.

Charles I’s motive for entering into negotiations, and even

suggesting them through his own ambassadors, was mainly in

order to allow no further ground for the rumour that he

hated peace[403]. He hoped that by the discussion of the

articles their inadmissibility would be made manifest.

In the conduct of the negotiations he played a very

subordinate part: Parliament took care to keep the matter

entirely in its own hands. It fixed the place of meeting

at the small town of Uxbridge, which afforded none of the [A.D. 1645.]

comforts of life: it limited the time to twenty days,

in reckoning which, it was thought necessary expressly

to provide that the intervening Sundays were not to be

counted: it instructed its representatives (among whom

we find, besides some Lords, and the peacefully-inclined

Hollis and Whitelocke, Vane and St. John, the leaders of

the dominant party) in what order the questions were to be

taken, and ordered them not to depart in any material point

from the contents of the original propositions.

The plenipotentiaries of both parties met at Uxbridge

towards the end of January. The Parliamentarians occupied

one part, the Royalists the other, of the little town,

and divided the two inns between them: each party had its

separate entrance to the old-fashioned building in which

the meetings were held, and separate chambers to which they

might retire.

At times however they met by the fireside, and the visits

which they paid to one another now and then passed the

limits of mere formality. One of the Parliamentary Lords,

the Earl of Pembroke, admitted one day to Edward Hyde,

Chancellor of the Exchequer, that the Lords regretted

having gone so far; he besought the King to have pity on

them, and to free them from the wicked men who now governed

everything: if the King would only accept the conditions

proposed to him, as soon as peace was concluded they would

give him back all that he now surrendered, and make him

once more a powerful King.

Counsels of this kind had formerly produced an impression

on Charles I, but this was no longer the case. Concessions

made in the hope of thereby gaining a party had been the

occasion of his losing so much: he had long been convinced

that nothing which had once passed into the hands of the

Parliament was ever to be recovered from them[404].

Some offers of compromise were made by the royal

plenipotentiaries. They would admit the limitation of the

bishops’ power by a council of the lower clergy, and even

by laymen, to be elected by this council, in each diocese:

Parliament should regulate the spiritual jurisdiction in

relation for instance to marriage: even a rent-charge on [A.D. 1645.]

ecclesiastical revenues for ‘the maintenance of peace’

was suggested. Even this seemed to the King almost too

much, and he declined to go a hair’s-breadth further, as

he considered himself bound by his coronation oath to

maintain the Church establishment. Once more appeared the

political argument, that it was necessary for the power of

the crown to retain the dependence upon it of the spiritual

power. The right of the sword also, without which the crown

would be a mere shadow, seemed to be a good ground for

a King to fight on. Charles I agreed to the appointment

of a commission for nominating the commanders, say for

three years, but only on condition that half of it should

be named by himself, and that the military power should

hereafter return into his hands. This by no means satisfied

the Parliamentary plenipotentiaries: they asked for the

exclusive nomination of the commission by the two Houses

of Parliament, and for a period of seven years; what was

to be done in the future must be decided at the expiration

of the time by parliamentary proceedings, and in no other

fashion[405]. They added by way of explanation that the

power of the sword, of peace and war, must always be

exercised through the King and the two Houses of Parliament.

Two opposite systems were as it were brought into contact.

Parliament desired to subject Church and State to its

authority permanently: the King hoped by momentary

concessions to gain the possibility of restoring in the

future the ancient power of the crown: no agreement was

possible. The affairs of Ireland were also discussed at

Uxbridge[406]: but whereas the Parliament demanded the

termination of the existing truce and a renewal of the war,

the King sought to establish permanent peace there.

On the twentieth day of the negotiations (February 22) the

meeting broke up. The Royal plenipotentiaries hastened

to reach Oxford that evening, since their safe conducts

expired with that day.

_Dissensions in Parliament. The Self-denying Ordinance._ [A.D. 1645.]

Nothing would have been more desirable for the two parties

who had been treating together, the Scottish Presbyterians

and the Royalists, than to arrive at an accommodation.

At the time it was often asserted, even by statesmen like

Mazarin, that the Presbyterian principles involved the

destruction of the monarchy, and the introduction into

England as well as Scotland of the republican institutions

of the Netherlands[407]. This may however be contradicted

with certainty. The Presbyterians wished to reduce the

crown to an extremely small amount of power, but they had

no wish to abolish it; neither their theory nor their

necessities led to this. The Scots desired to see a King of

Scottish extraction on the English throne, and they wished

also that a system of spiritual and temporal government,

such as they had extorted from the King, should be supreme

in England also, if only to prevent the possibility of a

reaction from thence influencing Scotland. They adhered

to hereditary monarchy as a fundamental point: long and

bitterly as they had contended against Charles I, they

would not let him be overthrown.

The opinion has often been expressed, that if it was a

crime to have taken up arms against Parliament, no one was

guilty of it in a higher degree than the King himself,

and that he had thus disqualified himself for the throne:

and his two sons were liable to the same charge. The

idea was started of offering the crown to the Elector

Palatine, who in that case would more easily recover his

own territories, for England would enter into a league

with Spain to counterbalance the French, who were on the

side of the King: or again of raising to the throne the

third son of Charles I, Henry Duke of Gloucester, who was

in the hands of the Parliament, and of bringing him up [A.D. 1645.]

under the domination of a perpetual Parliament[408].

We find that Henry Vane, whose ideas went beyond

Presbyterianism, betook himself to the Scottish camp, in

order to arrange for one or other of these plans; but all

his efforts were in vain.

No doubt this unbending attitude of the Scots strengthened

the antipathy felt against them on other grounds. It

was thought unendurable that a foreign nation should

intrude into the counsels of England and seek to decide

its fate. Their attempt to introduce in England the

Presbyterian system of church government aroused still

greater hostility. The Congregationalists, defeated in the

Westminster Assembly, had no small following among the

common people, and a very extensive one in the army: they

most strenuously rejected the hierarchy which would result

from the union of the Presbyterian clergy with the lay

elders, and which would form an ecclesiastical tyranny as

bad as that of the bishops. If things were allowed to run

their course, it must be expected that these tendencies

would invade the Lower House, and perhaps carry it away.

Thus it would have been of inestimable value to the Scots

to come to terms with the King, whereby their opponents

would have been at once checkmated: it is strange that they

did not make more effort.

The French ambassador more than once spoke on the subject

with the Scottish commissioners Maitland and Loudon, and

urged them to abate the hardness of the terms offered by

them to the King. They required unconditionally only one

concession, his acceptance of the Presbyterian system:

there are necessities in politics which no negotiation can

master. Since the union with England had been formed for

the express purpose of thoroughly destroying Episcopacy in

that country, the Scottish commissioners could not recede

on that point. They sought to induce the ambassador to use

his influence to get it admitted: they assured him that

in that case they would moderate every other demand, that

the King should recover his previous authority, and be

granted a larger income, and that as great honour as ever [A.D. 1645.]

should be paid to the Queen. Sabran reminded them that

this depended not so much on their good will as on the

English Parliament. They replied that the resistance of

the Lower House to reasonable things would be advantageous

to the King, and hinted that he would then have the Scots

on his side. Unless the King gave way in the matter of

religion, no peace, no result to any negotiations was to

be expected, but if he would concede this a third party

would at once be formed[409]. They reckoned not only on the

friends of peace in the Lower House, but also, and with

good reason, chiefly on the nobility of England, who, as we

have seen, felt themselves threatened and endangered by the

line of conduct which seemed to find favour in the Lower

House.

It was also very greatly to the King’s interest to keep

down a party which sought to overthrow him, and openly

uttered republican sentiments. On other points he would

have been able to yield, but on this one he could not. His

own convictions were the other way, and moreover he would

have alienated the greater part of his friends. It was as

much a matter of absolute necessity for the King to refuse,

as for the Scots to urge, the concession.

This division contributed further to strengthen the

opposite party, which day by day grew more powerful. At

its head was the man of the age, Oliver Cromwell. He

made no secret of his opinion that the future of England

depended neither on the crown nor on the Lords, that a time

would come when there would be neither king nor peers in

England. He charged the Scots with having come to impose

their hierarchical system on the English; but he would

himself, he was heard to say, draw the sword against

them, and extort the conditions which were indispensable

for his co-religionists. He would on no account suffer

the combination of aristocrats and Presbyterians, which [A.D. 1645.]

was being formed, to establish itself in power: the mode

in which he set to work is characteristic of his deep,

subtle, calculating, and determined nature, biding its

time, but always advancing towards its object.

He first attacked the English nobles: he accused of

treason his former commander, Lord Manchester, who in

these complications had exercised decisive influence. For

a long time they had acted together, like the Independents

and Presbyterians in general, Manchester being one of the

leaders of the latter, Cromwell the acknowledged chief of

the former; but now they separated from each other. As the

nobles were of opinion that the King must be allowed to

exist, it was attributed to their want of zeal that Charles

I had not been altogether annihilated in the war. Cromwell

accused Manchester of having occasioned the smallness of

the results from the battle of Newbury, by neglecting

advantages and throwing away excellent opportunities;

saying that there was reason to think that Manchester had

purposely spared the King and had not wished to turn the

engagement into a complete victory[410]. We have no means

of discovering how far Cromwell was right: Manchester

rejoined by a charge of insubordination. It is obvious that

Cromwell’s accusations fell upon others besides Manchester:

the same charge had long ago been made against Essex and

other generals; he only expressed the universal conviction.

The drift of this quarrel did not escape the Scots. They

saw in Cromwell’s proceedings the intention to seize for

himself the chief command of the army, to dissolve the

union of the two kingdoms, and to destroy the House of

Lords. Well might they desire the prayers of the faithful

in their behalf, for the scheme seemed to involve danger to

their religion also.

To rid themselves of this dangerous rival, they once

seriously adopted the idea of impeaching Cromwell.

One of the chief charges which had been urged against

Strafford, that namely of destroying the peace between

the two kingdoms, might, it was believed, be brought

against Cromwell: he was an incendiary, that is, a man who [A.D. 1645.]

kindled strife between the two countries[411]. The nobles

of the Upper House and the Scots seem to have had an

understanding on this matter. One day the Earl of Essex

invited to his house two lawyers, members of the Lower

House, Whitelocke and Maynard, who belonged to the moderate

party; they found there, besides some Parliamentary

friends of Essex, such as Hollis and Stapleton, Loudon,

the Chancellor of Scotland, who formally propounded the

question whether an impeachment on this ground might not be

laid against Cromwell. Whitelocke and Maynard remarked that

the case must be well prepared beforehand, and striking

proofs offered, the more so as Cromwell had the greater

part of the Lower House on his side, and friends in the

Upper House also. Hollis was confident of being able to

carry the matter through. The Scots, who at the same time

were obliged to consider their national position, stood

aloof from the attempt.

Meanwhile Cromwell was preparing another and most

unexpected blow at his powerful enemies. He referred to

the universal dissatisfaction at the conduct of the war

hitherto, which in spite of their undoubted superiority had

led to nothing decisive: what was gained one day had been

lost again on another; the victories of the summer served

as subjects for evening talk in winter: this was their

only advantage, all this blood had been shed, treasure

spent, and land devastated in vain. All the world cried

out against the dissensions and untrustworthiness of the

generals, and complained of the arbitrary conduct of

members of Parliament, even in civil offices.

Relying on this, Cromwell and his friends proposed, at

first as usual through a man of minor importance, that

henceforth no member of Parliament should hold a public

office either in the conduct of the war or in the civil

government. The proposal was recommended by the fact that

it wore a religious aspect; it implied an abnegation of

all the advantages which were usually connected with these

posts: it appeared a point of conscience to assent. That

some thorough change was necessary was the universal [A.D. 1645.]

opinion, because otherwise it was thought that the friends

of peace in the country would agree to the proposals made

by the King. The matter was so well prepared beforehand,

that the proposition was accepted at the same sitting.

The Scots did not know what to think: they saw that now the

contest between Manchester and Cromwell would be brought

to an end once for all. Some admired the act as a proof of

heroism, others saw in it audacity and danger. It is like

a dream, exclaims Baillie; we cannot yet see the bottom of

the affair.

It was at once plain that the Earl of Essex could no longer

retain the command of the army. He had long had to contend

against secret or avowed hostility in the Common Council

and in the Lower House: he ascribed his last disasters

in Cornwall to the hostile influence of his enemies in

the Committee, but as yet he had held his ground. Even

now he was not without friends in the Lower House, who

proposed that an exception should be made in favour of the

General-in-chief, with whom Parliament had once sworn to

live and die; but they were in the minority. What could not

be done by open attack, Cromwell attained, says Whitelocke,

by a flank movement. Essex was included in a general

ordinance, which every one had to obey.

Still the Upper House refused to accept the bill, on the

ground that it had always been the right of the Lords to

shed their blood for the lawful liberties of the country,

and that by the terms of the protest and their assent to

the Covenant they were more than ever pledged to this: if

there were objections against individuals, let them be

stated, and judged in the proper parliamentary fashion; but

to exclude all by a resolution of Parliament was to punish

individuals. Three times in succession they rejected the

bill, but they had long ago begun to let the majority of

the Commons lead them along a road which they did not fully

approve; they had not strength for continued resistance.

There was in truth much to be said for the bill. A

difficulty which had elsewhere been found in the conduct

of war by a republic, encountered Parliament as soon as

it gained independent power. The spirit of subordination, [A.D. 1645.]

which is necessary to military discipline, did not come

naturally to generals and officers who, being members

of Parliament, shared in the possession and exercise of

this power. Personal interests and the opposition of

parliamentary factions had far too much influence on the

position and behaviour of them all[412].

When the Lords gave way, they still hoped, in the course

of the further discussions on the reconstruction of the

army, to prevent its falling entirely into the hands of

the Independents. They added to the proposals of the

Commons a proviso that the officers and soldiers of the

new model should promise to accept the Covenant and the

Presbyterian system of church government. The Lower House

however was not of the same opinion: it was objected, not

without reason, that the church government was not yet

fully established, not yet possessed of legal validity.

In respect to the Covenant the Commons would only agree

to a pledge for the officers, not for the privates, on

the ground that this requirement would hinder recruiting.

If however this condition was not passed, it was obvious

that the separatist element in the army must become

very powerful; for who from among the non-presbyterian

population would take up arms against the King, except

Independents and other separatists! The Lords had wished to

make the nomination of officers depend on the choice of the

two Houses, but this also they failed to carry: for nothing

would so much conduce to the authority of the general

to whom the command should be entrusted as the right of

selecting his own officers.

Unquestionably military considerations contributed very

materially to these resolutions. The soldiers were

discontented with their leaders; even under Waller there

had been one mutiny; now and then they talked of choosing

their officers themselves. Moreover their pay had not

been regularly distributed. Thorough and comprehensive

arrangements were now made for this: contributions for

this express purpose were exacted from the counties. If [A.D. 1645.]

the troops were regularly paid, and kept under strict

military discipline, a better result might be expected from

the next campaign.

The Parliament selected as general Thomas Fairfax, who then

had won a great reputation by the victory of Selby and his

share in the battle of Marston Moor, a man whose stately

appearance would impress the troops, pliant in council,

but of unbending courage in battle. The transformation

of the army was so thorough that the troops which were

transferred out of the old army were distributed among the

new companies and regiments: the traditions of the old

associations were not to pass over into the new army.

It was still always held that the main question was as

to the acceptance or rejection of the Uxbridge articles;

but while the Royalist and Parliamentary parties were

preparing to fight about it, elements in the latter grew

into importance, which at once broke through their previous

arrangements in military matters. Essex and Manchester, who

hitherto had played the chief parts, now retired. Fairfax

and Cromwell, the one with Presbyterian opinions already

growing faint, the other of decidedly separatist and

anti-Scottish views, appeared in the foreground.

FOOTNOTES:

[393] ‘To advise consult order and direct concerning the

carrying on and managing of the war for the best advantage

of the three kingdoms.’

[394] Journals of Lords 1643/4. Febr. 12/17.

[395] Order Book relative to delinquent estates, July 1644

to May 1649, two thick volumes. Some of its contents are in

the Lords’ Journals, e.g. July 26 and 29, 1644.

[396] Instructions § 4. Old Parl. Hist. xii. 341.

[397] Sabran, Aug. 8/18: ‘Les grands d’ici sont si étonnés,

qu’ils espèrent plus de succès en leurs propres affaires

par l’antipathie qui sera enfin entre les deux parlemens

ou leurs deputés, qu’en la conduite de celui-ci, duquel

la chambre basse s’attire toute l’autorité et à quoi les

autres (les Ecossais) résisteront mieux qu’eux mêmes.’

[398] Collier’s Ecclesiastical History ii. 824.

[399] His epitaph runs: ‘Secuii percussus immortalitatem

adiit die x Januarii, 1644.’ Kushworth (v. 380) intended

to have treated his trial at as great length as that of

Strafford. As this was not done, we have to depend mainly

on Laud’s own detailed narrative of his examination.

[400] Baillie’s Letters, which here give generally

authentic information.

[401] Baillie: ‘One party purposing by the preface to turn

the directorie a strait liturgie, the other to make it so

loose and free that it should serve for little use--God

helped us to get both rocks eschewed.’ (ii. 242.)

[402] Baillie ii. 172, 187, 221: Balfour iii. 197.

[403] Sanderson: ‘Although he offered fair propositions,

yet they were mixed with such conditions as might not

easily be admitted, and so the King’s offer did but amaze

the people into a milder opinion of his proceedings.’

[404] ‘That there never was such a pack of knaves and

villains as they who now govern in the parliament.’

Clarendon bk. viii. (iv. 595).

[405] ‘The Royal power concerning the militia and to make

peace and war, we cannot admit, that it is otherwise

exercised than by authority from His Majesty and both

houses of Parliament.’

[406] The whole proceeding of the Treaty of Uxbridge. Paper

cxxx. cxxxvi. in Rushworth v. 839, 841.

[407] Instructions to Sabran. ‘Les Puritains, soit Anglais,

Ecossais ou Irlandais, haissants la royauté et toute juste

domination, n’essayeront pas seulement d’abattre celle de

leur roi, mais de se lier avec les républiques voisins.’

[408] Sabran: ‘Innocent des troubles et des contraventions

aux lois de l’état, qu’ils prétendent avoir été commises

par LL.MM. Britanniques, par le prince de Galles et par

tout le parti du roi, qu’ils déclarent criminel de l’état.’

[409] Sabran, Feb. 9, 1645. ‘Que le roi y consentant,

toutes sortes de propositions seroient bientot accommodées

au gré de S. M., sa dignité entière, ses revenus

augmentées--que l’opposition aux choses raisonnables seroit

avantageuse au roi de Gr. Br.:--qu’il n’y aura pas sans

cela succès au traité ni suite de paix, et qu’avec celle

elle se peut faire raisonnable.’

[410] General heads (St. P. O.): ‘That there is good reason

to conceive that this backwardness and neglect in H. L.

to take advantage against the King was out of a design or

desire not to prosecute the war to a full victory.’

[411] Whitelocke’s Memorials 113.

[412] ‘That the members of Parliament who are officers,

being of equal power in Parliament, will not be so obedient

to your commands as others who have smaller interests.’

Speech of Whitelocke.

CHAPTER V.

THE CAMPAIGN OF 1645.

The King’s whole soul was weary of these painful and

fruitless negotiations: yet even in the parliamentary

assembly which he had once more gathered round him at

Oxford, a resumption of them was urged, and proposals

suggested, which seemed to the King base and seditious. He

breathed more freely when this assembly also was dismissed,

and he expressed himself contemptuously about it: he saw

with pleasure Wilmot and Percy, who at that time were

labouring for peace, quit his neighbourhood, and go to

France to the Queen’s court[413].

He himself in the course of the discussions had not only

strengthened himself in his own opinion, but came to lean

more than ever in the other direction. He once told his

wife, with whom he kept up continual deliberation as to the

best course, that he was now determined, if he ever again

obtained full possession of power, to repeal all penal laws

against the Catholics, that if peace came it would be seen

that he was the true friend of her friends, especially

of the bishops, and that then he would take care, as

she repeatedly urged, to get rid of this everlasting

Parliament. It is clear that he meant to be thoroughly

master.

Without being a born soldier or much of a general,

Charles I had developed a taste for the camp. Military

successes were the only ones which he had enjoyed for

a long time: his victory over Essex filled him with a

certain self-satisfaction. Always inclined to look on the [A.D. 1645.]

favourable side of things, he reckoned in the impending

campaign on a new series of successes, worthy of the good

cause for which he was fighting. The mysterious ground

of his hopes is worth remarking. He fully believed that

hitherto the unjust execution of the Earl of Strafford

had been visited on him, and not only on him but also on

his opponents, who were equally guilty, but that now the

innocent blood shed by them only in the execution of Laud,

for which they were solely responsible, would bring down

the wrath of God upon them[414],--notions which accurately

mark the character of the religious beliefs which then

dominated men’s minds; as though the secrets of divine

things could be brought into such direct connexion with

the complications of human affairs! Charles I lived in the

conviction that he had committed a fault for which he was

punished, but that he was the champion of a holy cause, to

which God’s help could never be wanting: if this did but

abide with him half as effectually as in former years, he

would have a successful campaign.

He expected that his Queen would supply him with money

and even with military aid. The state of European affairs

was then such that it seemed possible to gain for the

cause of the English crown the assistance of Charles IV,

Duke of Lorraine, who was ready to move in any direction,

and who had gained military experience at the head of an

army gathered by the sound of his name, but free from

all territorial connexions, in France, Germany, and the

Netherlands. The Queen took great trouble to induce him to

assent, and, what was still more difficult, to supply him

with the means. The King hoped to see him arrive in one

of the ports which he still commanded, if not direct from

France, from the Netherlands by the help of the Prince of

Orange[415].

Finally the King had resolved to make offers of peace to

the Catholic League, with the security of some temporary

concessions; he reckoned on their acceptance, and also on

help from Ireland.

In Scotland a powerful reaction was already in progress. [A.D. 1645.]

Montrose, who had returned secretly and remained in

concealment for a time, had suddenly raised the King’s

banner, as his representative, on the Grampian Hills. Irish

troops, raised in Antrim, came to join him under Alexander

Macdonald, called Colkitto, a man who made a great

impression by his gigantic stature and desperate courage.

Montrose formed his own army chiefly of Highlanders, whom

he could not perhaps discipline, but knew how to manage

according to their nature. He conducted the war not on

strategical principles, but by sudden and weighty blows:

the onset of his troops was compared to the rush of a

suddenly swollen mountain stream, so unexpected, stormy,

and irresistible was it: wherever he encountered the

Covenanters, he gained the advantage. At the beginning of

April 1645 he took Dundee: he then informed the King[416]

that if he were supported by only 500 cavalry, he would in

the course of the summer bring 20,000 foot-soldiers into

England. At the very least the King might expect that the

Scots would be too busy at home to be very dangerous to

him in England. At the time he thought he had not much

to fear from the Parliamentary army. It was the almost

universal expectation that, deprived of its tried officers

by the new model, it would stand trial even less than under

Essex. And in fact its first undertakings had no special

result[417]. Though the royal troops had been compelled to

raise the siege of Taunton, yet it had been immediately

renewed. It was assumed that the Parliament would seek

at any cost to save a place so important for the western

counties; which had all the more consequence, because the

association uniting Cornwall and Devonshire was extended

over Somerset and Dorset: the four counties undertook to

put a considerable force in the field. At their request

the King let the Prince of Wales, attended by some members

of the Privy Council, take his place among them, while [A.D. 1645.]

he left his second son, the Duke of York, in Oxford, under

the military tutelage of a trustworthy officer, William

Legge, to defend the capital of Royalist England against

eventual attack. According to ancient ideas the presence of

the royal princes was a pledge of redoubled devotion. The

King himself wished to remain free to take up a position in

the midland counties, and advance thence either northwards

or eastwards. He did not expect to conquer the powerful

foe, but hoped to occupy him everywhere, and to succeed

in bearing the royal banner victorious in England as in

Scotland, and after a prosperous campaign to enjoy a good

winter.

It cannot be denied that he had some grounds for this

hope. He relied mainly on the Celtic elements in the

British kingdom, not only in Scotland and Ireland, but in

England also, where they had operated powerfully, at any

rate in Cornwall. Leaning on this support, he called to

his banner the elements of the English commonwealth which

were allied to the monarchy and were threatened along with

it. He was their champion against the tendencies hostile

to him and them alike, which had arisen more powerfully

in the British isles than ever in any other part of the

Teutonic world. His hope was to achieve a settlement, in

which the old prerogative of the crown, not without some

limitation of the exclusive domination of Protestantism,

should be combined with parliamentary privileges. Was this

unattainable?

I do not know whether he had thought out the question

fully. Hitherto the initiative in government had proceeded

from the Crown, which had enjoyed the preponderance. But

through the revolution of 1640 the dominant power had been

transferred to the Parliament, which in most parts of the

kingdom was now recognised: and the Parliament wished to

retain this. The question was, who should henceforth enjoy

the supreme power: and the sword must decide.

The decision came unexpectedly to all parties, suddenly and

irrevocably. The King had saved Chester from an assault

by the Parliamentary troops: without letting himself be

delayed over the trifling enterprises which were suggested

to him, he broke up his camp in May, 1645, his brave

nephew Rupert by his side, to execute the plan before [A.D. 1645.]

mentioned. Already at the end of the month they had an

unexpected success: the strong town of Leicester fell into

their hands. A battery planted by the Prince on the right

spot made a breach; but the assault was checked by defences

erected behind it, till the walls were scaled at two weaker

points. All resistance was then in vain, and the town had

to expiate by a terrible sack its Parliamentary leanings.

Scarcely ever has a success been so ruinous to the

victorious troops as this conquest to the King and his

army. At once all the energies of his opponents were

directed against him. In London an attack on the eastern

counties was feared, on the possession of which the general

security depended. When at the same time there were rumours

of threatened movements in Kent and of an attack on Dover;

the feeling gained ground that they were on the eve of a

catastrophe. The two Houses vied with each other in taking

the necessary precautions. New levies were ordered in the

city and the counties, proclamation of martial law in Kent,

increase of the powers of the generals. The Common Council,

not yet satisfied, requested that orders might be given to

the army to advance immediately, in order to fight with the

King, and especially to recover Leicester before he had

fortified it.

Fairfax had not, as was expected, let himself be entangled

with the Parliamentary army in the western counties, but

had advanced towards Oxford, where he obtained, it is true,

no successes[418] sufficient to cause any serious danger,

but prevailed so far that the King was most urgently

requested to come to the aid of his most important city,

where the court still was, and especially of the ladies

thus endangered, and above all of his son. He set his

army in motion in this direction: but severe losses had

been sustained in the storming of Leicester, and he was

obliged, in the face of a refractory population, to leave a

considerable garrison there: when the army appeared in the [A.D. 1645.]

field it was seen to be too weak to cope with Fairfax.

Charles begged the besieged not to trouble him, for that

he would not let them fall into the enemy’s hands, but he

durst not stake all on the game like a madman. For the

present he contented himself with sending them provisions

and a portion of his troops. He himself stayed at Daventry,

to await the return of this detachment, and the arrival of

reinforcements from Devonshire and Wales.

The immediate staff of the King were divided in opinion

as to the plan of the campaign. Prince Rupert would have

liked to carry out the original scheme, and that by moving

towards the northern counties. A considerable portion of

the army consisted of horsemen who came from that quarter,

chiefly Cavaliers, who desired nothing so much as to turn

homewards. Rupert was convinced that Fairfax would not look

on quietly, but would follow them, and so Oxford would be

freed. On the other hand Lord Digby had directed his gaze

towards Oxford, and held it to be necessary to go to the

aid of the besieged in full strength.[419] Undoubtedly

Rupert’s opinion was more correct, and more suitable

to the circumstances, especially because it could be

executed immediately. While the King was inclining towards

Digby’s view (for was he not naturally above all things

anxious for the liberation of his son?), and waiting for

the reinforcements (as usual with serene temper, with no

apprehensions for the future, and not without devoting

himself in leisure hours to the pleasures of the chase), he

gave his enemies time to come up against him with all their

forces.

The troops before Oxford shared the feelings prevalent in

London, and would not linger over a siege while the King

was victorious in the field: and the Parliament readily

granted their request. On June 11 we find Fairfax with his

army near Northampton.

Another prayer which could only be granted by Parliament

was preferred by the army. Cromwell, in spite of the

Self-denying Ordinance, had been allowed by a Parliamentary

resolution of May 10 to continue temporarily his military [A.D. 1645.]

functions; the officers now requested that this man, in

whom they had full confidence both political and military,

might be appointed as their general of cavalry. Naturally

the Lords, who had been excluded from the army by the

Act, hesitated about conferring so important a post, in

contravention of it, on their great opponent and rival.

But their refusal was for the moment of no consequence:

Cromwell’s temporary commission was to last for forty days,

and it was during this time that on June 13 he entered

Fairfax’s head-quarters, accompanied by some newly-raised

squadrons of cavalry. The council of war was at once held,

and Cromwell infused new fire into its resolutions: the

trumpets were immediately blown, and all the soldiers

assembled rejoicing around their leaders.[420]

On the same day, at the news that the superior army of the

Parliament was near, the King quitted Daventry--where the

division that had been detached to Oxford had now joined

him, but no other aid--to advance towards the north. But

at the first halt, at Harborough, it was ascertained that

the enemy was following close on the heels of the army,

and was now encamped in their immediate neighbourhood. To

encounter him was now absolutely necessary, for how could

they possibly have allowed him to attack their rear while

they advanced? In the council of war the only question was

whether to await attack where they stood, or go in search

of the enemy. Rupert was for awaiting attack, but the King

decided the other way.[421]

It is a popular tradition that the shade of Strafford rose

that night before the King, and warned him against his

purpose.

The danger of Charles I lay not in either one course or the

other, but in the whole situation. He was now compelled to

do what a few days before he had declined to do, fight a

superior enemy with a weaker force, and under still more

unfavourable conditions. The future of England was staked

on this one cast: the decision of great and vital questions

rested on the issue of an essentially unequal contest.

On June 14 the Royal army formed in order of battle a mile [A.D. 1645.]

from Harborough. Lord Astley’s infantry formed the centre,

Prince Rupert with about 2000 horsemen the right wing, and

Marmaduke Langdale with the Cavaliers of the north, who

however were not altogether on good terms with him, the

left wing. The King placed in reserve his own bodyguard of

horse and a regiment of foot.

Meanwhile the Parliamentary army was drawn up in rank and

file on a similar rising ground near Naseby, but on the

opposite slope, so that it could not be overlooked from

a distance. Cromwell took charge of the right wing: the

left he intrusted to his son-in-law Ireton: Fairfax and

Skippon commanded the battalions of the centre. A reserve,

considerable in proportion, was drawn up in the rear.

Without knowing the position and strength of the enemy,

but aware of his propinquity, the Royal army was seized by

its old thirst for battle, and began its march. Generals

and soldiers were unanimous: any objection, however well

founded, would have seemed a proof of cowardice[422].

Without being checked by slight obstacles, it reached the

opposite hill and was climbing it, when the Parliamentary

army appeared at the top in full order of battle. When the

two forces looked one another in the face at this close

proximity, they halted a moment, as if to take thought,

before engaging. The infantry discharged their pieces

once, and then met hand to hand with the sword and clubbed

muskets. It was now shown that the newly-formed troops

were not equal to more experienced ones; the Parliamentary

infantry this time were decidedly worsted; their colours

were seen to fall, some regiments dispersed and fled to

Northampton[423]. So also the onset of Rupert’s horsemen

once more displayed irresistible strength: in spite of

a skilful and not inefficient ambush of some of the

enemy’s dragoons behind neighbouring hedges, he overthrew [A.D. 1645.]

Ireton’s regiments, the commander of which was himself

wounded and wellnigh captured. Still the success of the

right wing and centre on this day was not decisive. The

Parliamentary reserve could not be overcome by Rupert,

but enabled the defeated horse and foot to rally at least

partially, and the onset of the left wing of the Royal army

was completely repulsed by the Parliamentary right under

Cromwell. There was a moment during the battle when loss

and gain were about equal on each side. Cromwell himself,

it is related, was engaged in single combat with a Royalist

general, exchanged blows and shots with him, and actually

lost his helmet: then taking another, which was offered

him, and putting it on the wrong way, defended himself with

bravery and success against his adversary.

It was a battle of the old style, in which fire-arms had

scarcely any effect: they measured their strength man to

man, on horseback as well as on foot. The superiority of

the Royalists extended to the infantry, since they had no

longer the old city regiments before them: but the cavalry,

formed from the freeholders of the associated counties,

opposed them with unusual vigour.

When forces are tolerably equal, and not numerous

altogether, a reinforcement to one side, trifling in

itself, will usually produce decisive effect. A splendid

regiment of horse that Colonel Rossiter brought up at the

right moment[424], joined the wing commanded by Cromwell,

who was opposed to the least well-compacted corps of the

Royalists, and had already gained the advantage: when

after a short halt he renewed the attack on Langdale’s

division, which he now could assail on the flank also,

he soon mastered it, and drove it before him in headlong

flight. Thereupon Rupert, who had been shamefully repulsed

by the reserve, hastened back, to prevent the King from

being endangered by the change of fortune. At the same

moment Ireton was set free, and could again appear on the

battle-field with a portion of his troops. The defeated

Parliamentary infantry that had rallied again, united with [A.D. 1645.]

a portion of the cavalry for an attack on the hitherto

victorious Royal battalions. These defended themselves,

like the Spanish infantry at Rocroy about the same time,

according to the expression of a hostile report, ‘with

incredible valour and most steadfastly.’ But being deprived

of the usual protection from their cavalry, and attacked on

all sides, both by horse and foot, these troops saw at last

that further resistance would be their destruction: they

could no longer be brought to face the enemy, but laid down

their arms under the condition, which was very unwillingly

granted, that no plundering of individuals should be

allowed[425].

The King, who had with difficulty been prevented from

plunging into the mêlée, had to abandon the field to the

rebels. He re-entered Leicester in retreat that resembled

flight, after immense loss. He had sustained a most ruinous

defeat, his main army was annihilated, the terror of his

arms lost: the Parliamentary army had gained an unequalled

victory.

Charles I however was still very far from giving up his

cause as lost. He moved into the counties in which from the

first he had found most support, and which still seemed

willing to stand by him. ‘A better reception,’ he writes

from Hereford, ‘I could not have found, if I had arrived

after gaining a victory: I hope soon to replace my losses

with interest’ He believed that a considerable army might

still be raised in Wales, from whence Gerrard met him with

a couple of thousand men: the gentry of South Wales, who

assembled at Abergavenny around him, gave him the best

assurances on this head. New preparations began, and the

Marquis of Worcester gave him as hospitable and splendid

a reception in Raglan Castle, as though he were reigning

in full authority and peace. Moreover there was a force in

the associated western counties, which were in full tide

of resistance. General Goring had 5000 foot and 4000 horse

under his command: every day he hoped to become master of

Taunton, where a Parliamentary garrison still held out.

But the superiority of the Parliamentary army was soon to

be exhibited in these regions also. Victory had completed [A.D. 1645.]

their organisation: it gave them self-reliance and

confidence in their leaders[426]. After taking Leicester

with its military magazines--a conquest which the

inhabitants regarded as a deliverance--they moved towards

the united western counties. At the passage of Langport,

Goring placed himself in their way: but the Parliamentary

army developed such complete superiority by the bravery of

its cavalry and the skilful use of artillery, that Goring,

after one repulse, no longer ventured to encounter it

even with superior numbers. The fortresses which had been

deemed impregnable fell one after the other before the

assaults of Cromwell. By the middle of August the strong

places captured or relieved, Lyme, Sherborne, Langport,

Taunton, Bridgewater, formed a line which virtually cut off

Devonshire and Cornwall from the rest of England. Colonel

Poyntz pressed into South Wales and instantly stopped the

attempts to form a new army there.

The dimensions to which the Royalist forces were reduced

were already very small, and their chance of success very

slight, when a misunderstanding took place within the party

which utterly disintegrated it.

It must be reckoned an important event in the King’s life

that at Naseby a part of his papers fell into the hands

of the victors. Fairfax sent them to the Lower House,

which communicated them to the Lords and to the Common

Council, and ordered a selection of them to be printed

forthwith[427]. These were the original drafts of the

letters of Charles I to his wife, and her answers, and

instructions for Uxbridge and Ireland: some papers seized

elsewhere were added to these, together with a preface

and an appendix which declared their authenticity and

commented on their contents. Nothing could have happened

more opportunely for the anti-royalist tendencies. The

King’s determination to give way on neither of the main

questions, and his last-formed purpose of drawing nearer

to the Catholics, were brought into the full light of

day. He could now be reproached with offering toleration [A.D. 1645.]

to the idolatry of the Papists, and indemnity to the

blood-stained Irish; of invoking the aid of foreign powers

and princes for the destruction of English liberties and of

Protestantism. The publication of course produced a great

impression even on the King’s own friends. They saw now

that the King, in opposition to his own Oxford Parliament,

had preferred war to the continuance of the negotiations.

At the very moment when arms offered no further hope this

double disagreement broke out. The conviction everywhere

gained ground that the King must submit further and more

irrevocably than he seemed inclined to do. A negotiation

was entered into between the members of the Privy

Council in attendance on the Prince of Wales and the

peacefully-inclined members of Parliament, arising out of

the wish of both to help one another to a compromise. In

the same direction went the views of the leading men in the

united western counties, which were at the time of great

weight from the independent character of the movement there.

This was exactly the constitutional standpoint which the

Clubmen, who just then suddenly appeared in various places,

sought to attain. They were the inhabitants of the counties

who declined any longer to allow themselves to be violently

treated and plundered, first by one party and then by the

other. Assembling at their own will, with any weapons that

came to hand, even clubs, from which they got their name,

with the intention merely of resisting at every point where

defence was possible the violence of the soldiery, they at

once proceeded to a general manifesto: they most urgently

demanded a truce between the King and the Parliament, and

a renewal of the peace negotiations, for which purpose

they would send delegates to both sides. They opposed the

Royalist soldiery as well as the Parliamentarians, but

on the whole were of moderate Royalist opinions. Fairfax

treated them as enemies, but Prince Rupert entered into

alliance with them: for the Prince was now himself inclined

to a compromise. From Bristol, where he had taken the

command, he sent word to the King that for the rescue of

his crown, his posterity, and the nobility of the country,

there was nothing left but to make a treaty: he urged that

it would be better to save part than to lose the whole.

King Charles I was at this moment as fully aware as any one [A.D. 1645.]

else of the desperate state of his circumstances: at the

beginning of August he arranged that, if danger pressed,

his son should fly to France, for it was now necessary

to prepare for the worst. For himself he adhered to his

resolution not to give way a foot’s breadth. His was a

nature which is not bent but steeled by adversity. At this

time he wrote to his secretary in calm but strong language,

that with God’s help he would never either abandon the

Church to another form of government, or rob the crown

of the authority which his ancestors had transmitted to

him, or forsake his friends[428]. To Prince Rupert he

replied that, as for his advice, as soldier and statesman

he might perhaps approve it, as Christian he must reject

it; whatever afflictions God might ever visit him with,

he durst not abandon a cause which was that of God. He

believes that in the end it will triumph, but for himself

he has no such hope: all that is left him is to die with

honour and a good conscience. In fact, he dares not reckon

on success, but only on this, that God will hereafter

avenge his cause. To those who will stand by him he must

say that they have nothing to expect except death for the

good cause, or a life made miserable by the oppression of

the rebels[429]. His words imply the consciousness of a

duty independent of accidental circumstances, transcending

the complications of the moment, of great importance for

the future of England, and highminded in themselves, if

a prince can be called highminded, who, conscious of

impending ruin, shows himself determined not to yield

a hair’s-breadth. But they were not calculated to hold

together or to strengthen his party: they died away without

effect. To offer men ruin and endless troubles as the [A.D. 1645.]

reward of their devotion is not the way to win them. Who

would join the King’s cause with any pleasure when he

himself treated it as lost? Men saw in his expressions only

one proof more of his invincible obstinacy.

When Prince Rupert came to England to fight for his uncle,

he had also the idea of gaining a princely establishment

for himself: to expose himself to ruin for the English

Church was not at all in his mind. He had already been put

out of humour by the King’s rejection of his proposal, when

he received from the Parliamentary army that was besieging

him in Bristol, after he had made one or two fruitless

sorties, a summons which in form was well calculated to

make an impression upon him. It was at the same time a

warning, reminding him that the Parliamentary party against

which he was in arms, was the very one which had always

sought to help the Palatine family, and had expended blood

and money for it; that he need not think the crown was at

stake, for that would remain where it must be, but that

the contest now was merely between the Parliament, the

King’s great council, and his actual evil advisers; that

the party which he was now defending was the one which had

always opposed the interests of his family. They referred

to Digby, who had quarrelled with the Prince at Naseby,

and had since kindled the flame of contention all the more

eagerly because he thus kept away the King, who cherished

the design of going with the Prince to Bristol, from fear

of there losing all his influence. If Rupert now gave ear

to the summons, there were military reasons to justify him,

for one of the protecting forts had fallen already into the

enemy’s hands: but still there is no doubt that political

motives co-operated. It had been thought that he would

fight to the death: he had promised to hold Bristol three

months: that he should surrender in the third week, before

any extreme necessity arose, excited general astonishment,

and caused the most painful emotion in the King, who was

just preparing to attempt a relief with a small flying

force which he had assembled and some help which he

expected from Goring. He thought he perceived that Rupert

was guided by counsellors of corrupt heart. If his own [A.D. 1645.]

relations treated him thus, what was he to expect from

strangers? Of all the calamities with which he had been

visited, none, he said, had grieved him more deeply.

Under the influence of Digby, who seized the favourable

moment for ruining his rival entirely--for even after

the loss of power jealousy is wont to linger in princely

courts--Prince Rupert was declared to be deprived of the

high military authority he enjoyed, and of all his offices:

his passports were also sent him with the insulting

explanation that henceforth he might seek his subsistence

on the Continent. The Prince received his dismissal under

the counter-signature of Lord Digby, whom he regarded

as the author of his disgrace and his mortal enemy. At

the same time his best friend and political and military

associate, William Legge, was removed from his government

at Oxford. The fall of Bristol was the moment at which the

party of the statesmen about the King obtained the upper

hand of the military men. The soldiers were not minded to

submit: professional feeling was aroused, and most of them

made the Prince’s cause their own.

But apart from this, just as the capture of Bristol had

once been a decisive advantage, so now the loss of that

place with all its stores was an indescribable misfortune.

Even in the most devoted provinces, for instance in Wales,

the opponents of the King at once appeared in strength.

Charles I was a prey to the most painful hesitation:

his purposes vacillated between opposite possibilities.

At one time it seemed to him advisable to retire to

Anglesey, which could be defended during the winter, or,

if necessary, still further to the Isle of Man, finally

to Ireland: only it seemed to him dishonourable for a

king to make his escape in this wise. Then the events

in Scotland, where Montrose had won a great victory,

invited him thither. Montrose, on his march towards the

English frontier, found himself threatened at once by the

Parliamentary army which was following him, and by the

neighbouring lords who raised their districts against

him. Without much hesitation he threw himself on the

army, though perhaps a third stronger than his force,

and supported mainly by the brave old Lord Airly (who

was more than eighty years old when he took part in the [A.D. 1645.]

battle), and by another Ogilvy who had learned war under

Gustavus Adolphus, he completely routed them (at Kilsyth,

August 15). Thereupon Glasgow fell into his hands;

Edinburgh begged for mercy: he appeared as master in that

country. Under the influence of these tidings, and being

pressed on all sides, the King determined[430] to cut his

way through to the army which bore his standard victorious

in the field. He wished to try the way to Scotland past

Chester through Lancashire and Cumberland. He arrived

at Chester at the right time to prevent the capture of

the place; but in the open field his troops could not be

induced to face the enemy: from the ramparts he witnessed

their defeat. Not without a hope of opening himself a way

through Yorkshire, he betook himself to Newark, the least

endangered of the places he still held. Meanwhile Montrose

had been defeated: he in his turn could not withstand the

regular troops which David Lesley brought against him

from England, and at Philiphaugh, near the border, he was

surprised and beaten. The King knew this well, but at the

rumour that Montrose had again gained an advantage, he once

more resolved to make the attempt. After some days’ march

he ascertained that the news was false, and that Montrose

had fled to the Highlands. Digby could not be dissuaded

from proceeding with part of the troops, less in the hope

of achieving anything (for his friends had already been

dispersed), than to avoid returning to Newark. The King

returned there alone with the rest of his forces.

He had terrible scenes to endure there among his own

immediate following. Digby had departed because he would

not meet Prince Rupert[431], who, though he did not refuse

to quit England, wished first to clear his military honour

and justify himself in the King’s eyes. He asked to be

brought before a court-martial, which acquitted him of

all the slanderous charges brought against him on account

of his conduct at Bristol. In the same degree in which [A.D. 1645.]

the soldiers by profession showed their sympathy with the

Prince, they exhibited also their indignation against

Digby, by whose attacks they felt their military honour

injured. The fact that at this very time Willis, the

Governor of Newark, one of the Prince’s warmest supporters,

was removed from his post, seemed to them to prove that

the King would always be governed by Digby’s advice: and

their displeasure was fanned into flame. Rupert, Willis,

and Gerrard so completely lost sight of their respect for

the prince for whose authority they had hitherto fought,

that they forced their way into his presence to make, we

cannot say representations, but accusations against him.

With his arms akimbo, displeasure in every feature, Rupert

strode close up to the King, who was sitting at his supper.

The King rose and retired into a window with the three

generals to ascertain their business. Willis complained of

the dishonour done him by publishing his dismissal, and

demanded public satisfaction. Rupert observed that Willis

was unjustly treated for being his friend. Gerrard attacked

Digby, by whom he had been removed from his command in

Wales: both he and the two others pointed to Digby as the

author of all disorders: they declared that it was not

the King who governed, but Digby through him. The King

asked whether a rebel could say anything worse; and in

fact it was the severest accusation that had been brought

against him for five years. Nephew, said the King, this is

a matter of serious import. Rupert referred to the events

at Bristol, in consequence of which he had been subjected

to false accusations. Nephew, said the King: he would have

said more, but the words died on his lips. The Prince

gave no sign of respect: with his arms akimbo, as he had

entered, so he quitted the King’s presence[432].

All the sources of help on which the King had reckoned [A.D. 1645.]

in the spring now failed him. A treaty with the Irish

Catholics was concluded through an emissary, originally

instructed to refer to the Viceroy, but subsequently

intrusted with full powers, upon conditions which could not

be openly avowed--one of the stratagems of Charles I, which

drove to despair his ministers who knew nothing about it,

and were ruinous to himself[433]. The document fell into

the hands of the London Committee: instead of benefiting

the King, the treaty served thoroughly to prejudice the

English nation against him.

The French were so fully occupied with the war in Germany,

the Duke of Lorraine with the attempt to recover his

hereditary dominions, that they could give the King no

help. If Charles had thought of cutting his way into

Scotland, it was merely because he saw no safety in

England. At this moment too, the quarrels which had long

disturbed his court broke out violently: the authority

exercised by a minister who was no longer with him, was

made a personal charge against himself: the boldest

champions of his cause abandoned it. He was fortunate in

being able to return with a small company to Oxford, where

for the moment he gathered a kind of court about him.

Meanwhile the Parliamentary army had thoroughly mastered

the Clubmen. In every province a decree of Parliament was

published, which declared it treason for an armed body of

men to assemble anywhere without permission.

There was no longer anything to oppose the army, which

was everywhere victorious, except the armed force of

Devonshire and Cornwall. But quarrels similar to that

between Digby and Rupert had broken out between the

Privy Council which surrounded the Prince of Wales,

and the military commanders. General Goring, who loved

to relieve his military duties with drinking bouts and

play, wanted to be virtually independent in the conduct

of the war, and especially to take no orders from the

Prince’s counsellors. He had already obtained from the

King instructions to the Privy Council to let him, as the

general, take part in their deliberations: when this was [A.D. 1645.]

not done, Goring imputed every disaster that happened to

the members of the council. In view of the growing strength

of the enemy, he desired to be subordinate to the Prince

only, and sought to confine within narrow limits the

influence of civil officers over the army; no officer’s

commission should be signed without his knowledge, no

movement of the army ordered without the officers’

concurrence. This not being granted he formed the rash

resolve--for steadiness and perseverance were, not the

qualities for which he was distinguished--of abandoning the

cause he served and retiring to France. The same spirit was

displayed also in the militia. No one among the natives

was so active and conspicuous as Richard Grenville, High

Sheriff of Devon, who levied troops on his own account, and

imposed contributions which he expended for their support.

In consequence of his independent action he also quarrelled

with the government; at times the troops raised by him

refused to obey the generals appointed in the King’s name.

How was an energetic and orderly conduct of the war to be

thought of? It came at last to this, that Grenville was

imprisoned by the Privy Council.

If the most general reason for the King’s disasters be

sought, it will be found in this hostility between the

holders of civil and military power. He himself could not

master it, far less could the Prince of Wales be expected

to do so: whereas on the side of the Parliament the

military tendencies were entirely supreme, and carried away

with them all energies of another kind; no other will could

oppose them.

There was still a general of reputation and talent, Lord

Hopton, who undertook the control of the army in concert

with the Privy Councillors who formed the Prince’s

government: but, as he said, he did it only from a sense of

duty, for no honour was to be gained. On his banner were

inscribed the words ‘I will strive my King to serve’: he

would obey, he said, even at the risk of his good name.

Under his command the forces of the western counties once

more measured their strength with the Parliamentarians, at

the well-fortified pass of Torrington, and here offered

some resistance; but the superiority of the Parliamentary

foot over the Royalists was so decisive that the latter [A.D. 1645.]

did not hold their ground very courageously. At the end of

February Fairfax advanced into Cornwall. On March 2 the

Prince, no longer safe in Pendennis, where he had been

staying, embarked with his counsellors in a vessel which

took them to the Scilly Islands. A considerable body of

horsemen was still united under Hopton. But already every

man was possessed by a conviction that all they did was

in vain. The service was very carelessly performed. In a

council of war the officers declared to the general that

their men could no longer be brought to face the enemy:

they told him frankly that unless he began negotiations

they should proceed to do so without him. The troops

themselves actually began: at the first encounter of

the advanced guards in the neighbourhood of Probus, the

Royalists cried out ‘Truce, truce!’ they entered upon it

before it was concluded[434]. After brief conferences a

capitulation was arranged (March 14) in accordance with

which Hopton’s brigades,--there were nine of them,--were

disbanded one after the other. The King’s cavalry had to

surrender their arms at the very place where formerly

Essex’s foot had done the same[435]. Most of the troops

declared themselves ready to go to Ireland and fight

there for the Parliament, without paying any attention to

the counter-orders of the King. The superiority of the

Parliamentary army was combined with a sort of voluntary

disbanding of the Royalist forces. The forts and castles

which were still in their hands went over one by one.

At the beginning of April even Exeter capitulated: the

Parliamentary army advanced towards Oxford, where there

seemed nothing left for the King but to surrender. The war

was virtually over. The attempt of Charles I to wrest back

by force of arms from the Parliament the power which it had

acquired had broken down.

This conclusion was exactly contrary to the results of

the analogous undertaking of Henry IV in France. Henry IV

had conquered the capital and the country, set aside the [A.D. 1645.]

Estates, and laid the foundations for that royal power on

which it was possible to raise the proudest monarchy of

modern times. In England the forces which the King and his

adherents could command were defeated in the country and

crushed; the supreme authority was in the hands of the

Parliament, with which the capital had hitherto been always

in perfect accord.

FOOTNOTES:

[413] To the Queen, 13 March. King’s cabinet opened, No.

13: ‘I being now freed from the place of base and mutinous

motions, that is to say, our mongrel Parliament here.’

[414] King’s cabinet opened, No. 20. Cp. his letters of May

12 and 31 in Mrs. Green, of May 14 in Halliwell ii. 380.

[415] Bossuet mentions the affair in his funeral oration on

Henrietta Maria. The details of the transaction are still

unknown.

[416] King’s cabinet opened, No. 11.

[417] The testimony of Sabran (20 April), ‘Les forces du

parlement ont beaucoup plus reçu que donné de l’échec,’

may be set against the pamphlets of the Independents

exaggerating their successes in the first movements of the

campaign.

[418] Sabian 12/22 June. ‘Les sièges d’Oxford et de

Borstall House ont peu duré et mal réussi: il en est revenu

en une seule fois dimanche dernier 37 charettes de soldats

blessés, et autres depuis.’

[419] In a letter to Lord Jermyn, Digby mentions his

‘advice to the King to have gone to Oxford from Daintry.’

Warburton iii. 135.

[420] Sprigge’s England’s Recovery 32. In Ludlow (Memoirs

151) things are related not without some confusion.

[421] Walker, Historical Discourses 129.

[422] Digby to Legge. ‘So did your fate lead, as scarcely

one of us did think of a queer objection, which after

the ill success every child could light on.’ This

correspondence (Warburton iii. 127) gives the best insight.

I combine the narrative of both parties.

[423] Sprigge: ‘The colonels and officers endeavouring to

keep their men from disorder, and finding their attempt

fruitless therein.’

[424] Wogan: ‘Rossiter’s horse that came to us at that

present.’

[425] Wogan: ‘Seeing all their horse beaten out of the

field, and surrounded with our horse and foot, they laid

down their arms with condition not to be plundered.’

[426] Clarendon iv. 48 (edition of 1849) himself remarks on

this battle that the capacity to rally after being beaten

disclosed the better discipline which had been introduced

by Fairfax and Cromwell.

[427] Journals of Commons, 23 June-7 July.

[428] To Nicholas, 25 Aug. 1645. ‘Let my condition be never

so low, I resolve by the grace of God never to yield up

this church to the government of papists, Presbyterians, or

independents, nor to injure my successors by lessening the

crown of that ecclesiastical and military power which my

predecessors left me, nor to forsake my friends.’

[429] ‘Who took the occasion to write the ensuing letter

to the prince with his own hand, which was so lively an

expression of his own soul.’ Clarendon, Hist. iv. 679.

[430] Walker’s Historical Discourses 139: ‘In order to

attempt to get to Montrose, whom we then believed master of

Scotland.’

[431] ‘The king and I had long before concluded it most for

his service that I should absent myself for some time.’

Letter to Hyde, Harley MS. T. V. 566.

[432] Symonds’s Diary 268. The best passage in the little

book, had it not been subsequently mutilated and never

completed. Walker is here also the most trustworthy

witness. What the English journals contain is derived from

exaggerated hearsay. The notice in Disraeli v, derived from

Bellasis’ Memoirs, cannot be reconciled with the facts

known from other sources, for instance about the passports.

[433] Lingard, who here follows special information, x.

Note B; Macgregor, History of the British Empire ii. note b.

[434] Sprigge 213. Instead of asking they acted a cessation.

[435] From a report of Montereuil, March 19, it appears

that Fairfax remarked on this ‘avec peu d’obligeance pour

le comte d’Essex.’ Clarendon Papers ii. 218.

BOOK X.

INDEPENDENTS AND PRESBYTERIANS. FATE OF THE KING.

If the war between the King and Parliament could be

regarded as at an end, the controversy between them was

by no means concluded. The King in spite of his defeat

maintained the position which he had taken up on quitting

London; he was as firm in it as ever. So far as the

pacification of the country depended on an understanding

of the King with Parliament, not a step had been gained;

the questions had rather grown more complicated through

the course of events. The people, crying for peace, would

undoubtedly have been contented with the restoration

of a Parliamentary régime without the abasement of the

royal power. But in the tumult of violence and faction

how could moderate wishes have had any chance even of

full expression, to say nothing of being carried out? The

men who gave the tone to the Lower House required of the

crown a sort of renunciation of the military authority,

which was opposed to the ancient notions of the monarchy.

They deemed themselves compelled for their own sakes to

persist. But it was not the strength of Parliament alone

which had prevailed over the King. The great change to his

disadvantage had been wrought by the Scots, the last blow

in the field and his ruin by the Independents: and these

victorious allies had their own objects and sought to gain

them. The Scots desired the uprooting of the episcopal

system; their last alliance with England was founded on

the assent to this demand. The Independents meditated new

forms in both Church and State. They vehemently opposed the

Scottish system, and sought to alienate Parliament from it,

and bring it over to their own ideas.

How the cause of the King and his fate should be decided

was an element in the intestine strife between the parties:

it depended mainly on whether the Presbyterians or the

Independents gained the upper hand.

CHAPTER I.

FLIGHT OF THE KING TO THE SCOTS.

In the realm of those ideas, which constitute the western

world by their connexion and shake it by their strife, the

Independents exhibit views in relation to both religious

and political government which, if not entirely new, yet

acquired general influence first through them. Religion by

its nature aims at a world-embracing community of doctrine

and life--an idea on which all great hierarchies are

founded, including the Papacy. As the Reformation movement

arose chiefly from the oppression which the carrying

out of religious unity in a stringent form exerted over

single kingdoms and states, it led directly to national

unions,--national churches, which no doubt were founded

on a creed that claimed universal acceptation, but whose

authority could never extend beyond mere provincial limits.

Among the formations of this kind the two most strongly

organised are doubtless those which were established in

Great Britain. We know to what far-reaching contests their

opposition led, shaking not merely men’s minds, but the

very government of the two countries.

The Independents appeared on the frontiers of the Anglican

and Scottish Presbyterian Churches just at the outbreak of

their quarrel. The faithful, who when oppressed by Laud

at first fled before him to the Continent or emigrated to

America, now held together in congregations, which through

the closer spiritual union of their members satisfied their

need of common religious feeling. Something similar took

place in Ireland, in the colonies planted there by the

Scots, when Stafford tried to subject them to the yoke of

Canterbury. But the Congregationalists who then returned [A.D. 1645.]

to Scotland did not again join the national Presbyterian

Church. They assisted gladly and efficiently in defeating

the power of the bishops--first in Scotland and then in

England, where they united with all the other separatists

who had been held down by Laud, but never crushed: but at

all times they persisted in trying to carry out their own

views. They not only opposed on principle the influence of

the State over the Church, but rejected the national as

well as the universal, hierarchy, the General Assembly of

the Scots as well as the English Convocation. They admitted

only a brotherly influence of the churches over each

other, consistent with co-ordinate authority: the right

to decide for the community they would acknowledge only

in the assembled congregation itself. In their system the

difference between clergy and laity vanished entirely, for

they had no objection to laymen preaching.

As they had taken part in the great war against the bishops

on the assumption that after victory they would be free

from all religious oppression, and had contributed perhaps

the most powerfully of all to the decision by their

influence over the city populations, they regarded it as

a hateful injustice that the Presbyterians refused them

toleration. The last act of union was in a certain sense

a declaration of war against the Independents, who in

consequence took no share in the Assembly of Divines.

With these ecclesiastical efforts were connected tendencies

both intellectual and political, allied to them by internal

analogy. The most important and most complete expression

of them we find in Milton. Without having himself had any

direct share in the religious changes, Milton advocated the

rights of the human spirit in its individual character.

He attacked the censorship of the press, which the

Presbyterians most strictly exercised, in a pamphlet[436]

which must be ranked as high in the literature of pamphlets

as any of Luther’s popular writings, or the Provincial

Letters of Pascal. It must be reckoned as the most eloquent

and powerful of all pleas for the liberty of the press: the [A.D. 1645.]

natural claim of the truth-seeking spirit to unchecked

utterance is fully recognised in it. Milton is all the

more urgent on the subject because he sees his own people

inspired with an energy which presses forwards in all

directions and is striking out new paths. She sees the

light, says he; waking up from sleep she shakes her locks

filled with the strength of Samson. And this is the moment

at which men would oppress her with old restrictions, and

invoke against her the power of the State: as though it

were possible in great convulsions to escape a confused

variety of new opinions--as though it were not the worst

of all opinions to refuse to hear anything but what is

pleasing. And they dare to denounce as heretics men who for

their lives and faith, for their learning and pure intents,

merit the very highest esteem.

In similar contrast, and in fact on the basis of the

principle already adopted, appeared also political views of

the widest scope. It was declared a crying inconsistency

that the Scots, after denouncing their King from the pulpit

and taking up arms against him, should still acknowledge

him and seek to restore his power. Milton would not hear

of the combination of national sovereignty with divine

right, which formed the basis of the Scottish system, and

which floated also before the eyes of the Presbyterians in

England. If the crown were of divine right, no treaty with

it would be possible, for in that case the entire power

of the State would belong to the King. But men are born

free, they are the image of God: authority is conferred on

one for the sake of order, but the prince is not only not

the lord of the rest, he is their deputy: the magistrate

is above the people, but the law is above the magistrate.

Milton did not hesitate to maintain that the victory won

over the King in the struggle necessarily led to his fall,

to a change of government and of the laws.

With these views coincided the theories expressed by Henry

Vane, who was then perhaps the most conspicuous leader in

parliamentary affairs. He admitted that the supreme power

was of divine right, and obedience to it an indispensable

duty; but it depended on the people whether or not they [A.D. 1645.]

would commit it to an individual, and on what conditions[437].

Since now the King had transgressed the conditions imposed

on him, and had been conquered in the war which broke out

in consequence, the people was in no way bound to revert to

the old form of government, but entered on the possession

of its original freedom: for the same end for which the

old government had been established they might now abolish

it, according to the idea of justice which was originally

implanted in man, and is interwoven with his being. The

republic was not yet directly pointed out as the ideal form

of government, but the right was claimed of resorting to it

at pleasure.

Never did these ideas find ground better prepared to

receive them, or more ready acceptance, than in the army,

which from the first had been formed on corresponding

principles. In the time of Manchester, who allowed it from

forbearance, the separatists who desired to take military

service gathered by preference round Cromwell, whose object

it was to lead into the field men of decided opinions[438].

His soldiers should be as incapable of looking behind them

as himself,--he actually made it an accusation against

the Lords that they were too prudent. These views were

now confirmed by success. The Independents and other

separatists had done the best work in the open field, as

in the city disturbances. They laughed at the Scots and

their moderation, which they held to be mere hypocrisy, a

mask from behind which to bring England under their sway.

For if it was allowable to make war against the King, it

was lawful to overthrow him, to imprison and put him to

death. How astonished were the Presbyterian preachers who [A.D. 1645.]

followed Cromwell’s camp at the anti-royalist and

destructive spirit which prevailed in it[439]. Charles

I was regarded merely as the successor of William the

Conqueror, who had made his generals into lords, and his

captains into knights, the ancestors of the nobility and

gentry still subsisting: but all this had been founded on

the right of the sword, and might again be reversed by the

same right. They felt like successors of the Anglo-Saxon

population, again after long oppression regaining the

upper hand. Theoretically and historically they considered

themselves justified in overturning the existing State and

founding a new one.

We may observe the stages of the intentions which in

this contest were successively exhibited. At first it

was only intended to restore the full efficiency of the

Parliamentary régime: the elections in the autumn of

1640 were held with this in view. But the Parliament

when it assembled raised claims which would have given

it unconditional preponderance, a kind of political and

military omnipotence. The Scots and the Parliamentary

leaders in concert with them added the demand for the

subjection of the King to a Presbyterian system. As a

fourth step, the Independents rejected this form also, and

entirely disowned obedience to the King.

Nor were these in any sense empty theories: the

Independents had actually gained a power which was only

limited by the power of their opponents, who were the

King’s enemies also. It is asserted that on the publication

of the King’s letters captured at Naseby, which were read

everywhere throughout the country, they intended to induce

the people to demand his deposition, and upon this, it was

further planned to declare Charles I unfit to reign, and to

make the Earl of Northumberland, whom they hoped to carry

with them, Protector of the realm: in this way they would

have given a new form to the kingdom[440].

They could not however reckon on the assent of the

English people. In the counties Episcopalian sympathies

prevailed: in the capital Presbyterian opinions, in direct [A.D. 1646.]

opposition to the Independents, were generally accepted.

For while the extravagances into which the sects fell,

appearing in various forms one after the other, necessarily

offended those who did not belong to them, the Presbyterian

preachers, after it came to an open breach in the Assembly,

distinctly attacked the Independents from the pulpit;

and they were still by far the more powerful. The common

people, sure of their faith, desired the Presbyterian

forms, stringent church discipline, even excommunication,

and rejected toleration. The elections to the Common

Council had hitherto been conducted on an understanding

between the Presbyterians and the separatists, but at the

end of the year 1645 Presbyterianism was dominant and the

sectarians were excluded. In January 1646 a fast day was

held in the city, at which the Covenant was renewed with

signature and oath. The next day the Mayor, Aldermen, and

Common Council presented a petition to Parliament for the

carrying out of church government in the Scottish fashion,

conformably to the Covenant.

In Parliament these views were not predominant, as may be

inferred from the fact that Henry Martin (who had been the

first to express decidedly anti-royalist sentiments--he

had said that it was better for one family to perish than

many--and had in consequence been driven from Parliament)

in January 1646 ventured to return thither. But there

was still a considerable Presbyterian party in the Lower

House, which had been not a little strengthened by the

result of the supplementary elections held in the autumn

of 1645[441]. In the Upper House the Lords, who saw

themselves slighted by the transformation of the army,

were inclined the same way: both foresaw their own ruin

if the Independents became entirely masters. Still they

calculated on being able to withstand them: they had on

their side the words of the treaties, and the interests of

the Scots, against whom the Independents were specially

hostile. The Scots greeted the manifestation in the city

with indescribable satisfaction: the Scottish Parliament

entered into direct communication with it; for the English

Parliament, it was said, notoriously can do nothing without [A.D. 1646.]

the capital. One of the Scottish clergy exclaimed, that

after God he relied most on the capital of England.

But while a numerous party in Parliament, the city, and

the Scots were united against the Independents, who on

their side were equally well represented in Parliament, and

controlled the army, men’s eyes turned back to the King

in a new fashion. Although without any practical power,

the King could still, through the authority of his name,

which operated as a seal of legality, throw into the scale

a considerable weight in favour of the party which he

supported.

But how, it will be asked, could he possibly think of

drawing nearer to the Independent party, which was as

anti-royalist as it could be? A letter sent from Oxford to

Henry Vane in March 1646, with the King’s knowledge, to a

certain extent explains this[442]. It sought to convince

him that he would gain nothing by totally overthrowing

the King: the sole result would be the ruin of England at

home and abroad. The King wished at that time to come to

London, in order to deal in person with the Parliament.

After his appeal to arms had failed, he thought that he

should be able to return to much the same relations as had

subsisted before he quitted Whitehall in the beginning of

1642. The most difficult point of the negotiations to be

expected obviously lay in the Covenanting demands of the

Presbyterians in league with Scotland; and in order to

have any support against them, the King needed the aid of

the Independents. He appears to have believed that their

chief object was to obtain religious independence for their

congregations; and this should be for ever assured through

his authority; in alliance with them he would establish

freedom of conscience for them and for himself[443]. And

though they had once formed a league with the Presbyterians [A.D. 1646.]

against the Episcopalian system, they now seemed not averse

to enter into a similar one with the King against the

Presbyterians. There were Independent influences at work

about the King and even about the Queen. With the latter

they were furthered chiefly by Percy, brother of the Earl

of Northumberland. The Scots and Presbyterians were so

much alarmed that they claimed the influence of the French

government with the Queen on their behalf.

We return to the dealings of the French government with

English affairs. The troubles in England had been of

indescribable advantage to France, by allowing her free

scope on the Continent: during this period the French in

alliance with Sweden had done serious mischief to the

strength of the house of Austria in Germany, and through

the risings in Portugal and Catalonia, to the Spanish

monarchy also: their power at this moment girdled the

world. After long hesitation, and as a last resource

against utter destruction, Charles I and his consort

offered to the French court an offensive and defensive

alliance; and Mazarin, who now governed the Regent

in relation to foreign affairs as completely as ever

Richelieu had done, was inclined to assent: but he would

not take part with Charles I in his domestic affairs;

he had recalled one of the plenipotentiaries sent to

England, Grecy, because he had connected himself too

closely with the King, and awakened mistrust of France

in Parliament. When he sent over Sabran, with whom we

are acquainted, in the spring of 1644, he instructed him

before making any further league with the King to bring

about a reconciliation between him and the Parliament, on

the supposition that the equilibrium between the two, on

which the due observance of the laws depended, would thus

be maintained. He was to support the just claims of Charles

I, but was not to help to make him monarch and lord of

England[444].

Charles I had never any sympathy with Spain: the house [A.D. 1645.]

of Braganza, under which Portugal was separated from the

Spanish monarchy, found support from him, and sought,

like the house of Orange, to obtain through him a

dynastic alliance: the Portuguese ambassador managed his

correspondence with his wife. Still it appeared to the

French that in the struggle between France and Spain he

leant rather to the Spanish side: they mistrusted the

presence in his council of Bristol and Digby, who had long

been known as representatives of the Spanish interest.

All the less were they disposed to contribute to the full

restoration of his power, so as to enable him possibly in

the future to be troublesome to them.

It is obvious that Sabran, who acted according to these

instructions, could effect but little. Apart from the

practical difficulties--for a full recognition of

Parliament must have preceded any negotiation--he could not

win the confidence of either party. Charles I observed with

astonishment that the ambassador, from whom he expected

the most active support to his cause, and an unequivocal

declaration in his favour, assumed the attitude of a

neutral[445]: he requested the Queen to apply in France

for his recall. On the other side, Parliament thought

that Sabran encouraged the King in his resistance, which

was actually true at least in relation to the religious

question. Sabran was commissioned also to deal with the

Scots; he was to warn them against too close a connexion

with England, since they would in that way gradually become

a province of the neighbouring country, and endanger their

old alliance with France. The Scots replied that their

view rather was to strengthen that alliance, and by means

of their union with England to bring that kingdom also to

join it: if an understanding between the King and the two

Parliaments could be achieved, he would himself announce

this alliance. They suggested the prospect that they

themselves, on the strength of their old treaties, and the

English with them, in agreement with France, would take

part in the war in Germany, primarily for the recovery of

the Palatinate--an undertaking which could not fail to gain [A.D. 1645.]

them a great body of allies in Germany[446]. It is plain

that this implied no opposition to the French schemes, but

is rather a development of them. The Scots assumed that

they would retain the upper hand in England. The connexion

between France and Scotland seemed to both parties equally

desirable.

The rise of the Independents contributed to the same

result. The French government was horrified at the idea

of their obtaining the superiority and changing England

into a republic. Such a state would be mightier than the

strongest kingdom: for as in republics all contribute to

the common resolutions, so every one strives his utmost to

carry them out. And if then the English republic should

unite with that of the Netherlands, they would form a power

quite irresistible, especially at sea[447]. Moreover so

successful a rebellion would afford a bad example to other

countries, and might easily lead them to imitate it. They

durst not let them attain their end.

In the summer of 1645 we find Montereuil in London,

resuming all the connexions which Bellièvre had formed,

and he himself had extended: he renewed the closest

intercourse with Lord Holland. Holland remarked that the

King had entered into a kind of correspondence with the

Independents, as believing that their views could never be

carried out, and that friendly relations with them would

be useful against the Presbyterians; but how much better

would it have been for him to come to an agreement with

the latter. For the views of the Independents pointed to

complete equality in both Church and State: it was their

purpose to destroy the very name of King of England: while

it was the wish of the Scots, and of the better part of

the English, to save the royal authority, only under

limitations which were certainly hard, but were based on

the old laws. He thought that it could not go against

the King’s conscience to acknowledge the Presbyterian

form of church, which approached far more nearly than did

that of the Independents to the episcopal form, inasmuch [A.D. 1646.]

as it made some church control and subordination possible.

He requested that the influence of France might be used to

bring the King round to an understanding with the Scots and

Presbyterians: moreover he himself hoped thereby to regain

the favour of the King and Queen. Montereuil said that he

had instructions to assure him that his leading would be

followed in this respect, and that by bringing about such

an understanding he would earn immortal fame, and in the

future be the first man in England[448].

It was actually to Holland that the idea first occurred

that the King should retire to the Scottish army: so long

as the King in any way kept the field, he had thought of

other expedients; but when Bristol surrendered, and that

defeat had been sustained near Chester, he saw no other

means of resisting the Independents save by throwing the

King into the arms of the Scots[449]. There he would

find support enough to compel the Independents to accept

endurable terms.

It is obvious that this fully suited the French policy.

It seemed the best means of bringing about that connexion

between the English Presbyterians, the Scots, and the King,

by which not only the supremacy of the Independents might

be hindered, but also grand prospects might be opened for

the domination of France in Europe. A negotiation was

begun, which by the manner in which it succeeded, and yet

at the same time did not succeed, exercised an important

influence over subsequent events.

The French above all things desired to get security from

the Scots that they would grant the King endurable terms

if he acceded to the proposal. They informed Loudon and

Balmerino, the commissioners then in London, that otherwise

it might be more advantageous for the King to deal with the

Independents than with them and the Presbyterians. They

tried to show that the future independence of Scotland

depended on this combination. Loudon said that he could not

undertake to make any alteration in the articles agreed [A.D. 1646.]

on between the two Parliaments, but gave them to understand

that concessions would be made to the King’s wishes on

points not irrevocably settled; thus in military affairs

they would accept the proposals made by him at Uxbridge;

in relation to Ireland they would allow new deliberations

in regular parliamentary course; they would spare Digby,

whom they would even seek to gain, and other enemies of

Parliament in the King’s suite: he made himself answerable

for carrying these things in Scotland. He was asked whether

and how he expected to bring the Independents to accept

these conditions: he answered that he would demand it by

reason of the treaties subsisting between the two kingdoms,

and should they refuse, he would compel them by force[450].

There were schemes on foot not merely for saving the

King, but for the formation of a widespread combination

for the repression of the Independents, when Montereuil,

by instruction of his court, and in concert with the

Presbyterians, went to Oxford to induce the King to take

refuge in the Scottish camp. It was just at the moment

when the last Royalist corps in Cornwall surrendered

and was dispersed. Montereuil represented to the King

that especially after the last demonstrations of the

city of London he could retain no hope of preventing the

introduction of the Presbyterian system: it was virtually

established, and was an evil that the King must put up

with, since some good might be derived from it. It is

certain that the King had given up the hope of achieving

anything permanent: he even promised to give full

satisfaction on this point, the only one on which it had to

be given, provided they would require of him nothing that

went against his conscience[451]. He had always thought

of coming himself to London for the negotiations: that

being shown to be impracticable, he now promised to betake [A.D. 1646.]

himself to the Scottish camp, it being assumed that there

his conscience and his honour would be respected, and his

attendants safe. It was not his own idea, but he accepted

it, as seeming to offer him an endurable solution. He

declared that he was ready to let himself be instructed

in the Presbyterian system, and in general to satisfy the

Scots in that matter, so far as a corresponding promise was

made to him by them. The question is, did they give him

such a promise, did they promise him liberty of conscience,

royal honour, and security for his followers, in the sense

in which he asked it?

A declaration of the governing committee in Scotland, which

Colonel Murray, who was to manage the mediation of the

French crown with the King, laid before Cardinal Mazarin

in Paris, certainly says that the King, if he comes into

the Scottish camp, shall be received there with honour, and

stay there in all security: but there is bound up with it

the demand that he shall first assent to the introduction

of Presbyterianism, accept the conditions proposed at

Uxbridge, and make himself responsible for carrying these

things forward with the advice of the two Parliaments.

In this case they promised him not only security, but

restoration to his dignity, greatness, and authority. It

appears that the committee hoped at this moment to carry

its point, and make Presbyterianism, with the King at the

head, dominant in England as well as in Scotland: it would

not be content with any conditional concession.

There is however no doubt that their plenipotentiary

in France went a step further. According to Mazarin’s

assertion in an official document (Bellièvre’s

instructions), Murray, who worked in the profoundest

secrecy, since nothing must be known in London, expressly

and directly promised, in the name of the Scots, that the

King should not be forced in his conscience[452]. Murray

afterwards made some other promises in favour of his

adherents, which the Scottish plenipotentiaries in London

confirmed, at least by word of mouth.

Depending on this, and no doubt also on the influence [A.D. 1646.]

which it could always exert to procure the fulfilment

of these promises, the French government empowered its

emissary, Montereuil, to promise all this to King Charles

in the name of the Queen-Regent and King of France:

honourable treatment suitable to his dignity, liberty of

conscience, a good reception for all who should accompany

him, reconciliation with his adherents, defence of his

rights[453].

Very far from finding the acceptance of these conditions

degrading, Charles I saw in them the foundation for a

junction between the forces still left to him and the

Scottish army. He informed Montrose that when the Scots

should have openly declared themselves to this effect,

and guaranteed a complete amnesty to him, the Earl, and

his adherents, he might then unite his troops with those

of the Parliament. When he informed his wife, who had

wished for the connexion with the Scots, of his assent,

he requested her to contrive that France should procure

him an honourable peace, or if such were not attainable,

then should support him with arms, in alliance with the

States-General and the Prince of Orange[454]. Always

sanguine, and full of the highest hopes, he thought he was

forming an alliance which should yet gain him the victory.

The Scots in the army however did not understand the matter

thus. The Chancellor had a meeting with the committee at

Royston, the result of which, to Montereuil’s astonishment,

was quite different from what had been promised him in

London. They would have no open meeting with the King, as

this might involve them in difficulties with the English

Parliament. The King must declare that he was on his way

to Scotland, only under this pretext would they be able

to receive him: but he must not bring with him a single [A.D. 1646.]

company of his troops. The stipulations in favour of

his adherents were rejected or limited; an immediate

recognition of Presbyterianism was pointed out as highly

desirable. Montereuil did not know whether or not to

advise the King, under these limitations, to carry out the

concerted plan.

While Charles was preparing with Prince Rupert, who in

his growing embarrassments had returned to his side and

formed a guard for him, to break through the hostile troops

that were continually approaching nearer, and so to push

for Scotland, he received these tidings. He was intensely

disgusted, seeing in it a return of the Scots ‘to their old

detestable treachery’: for a moment all was in confusion.

In this grievous perplexity the King once more turned to

the Parliamentary troops of the Independent faction, and

offered the Commissary-General to come into the midst of

them, if he would promise to honour and maintain his royal

dignity. The same proposal was also made to some officers

of the troops that were besieging Woodstock: they agreed,

if their superiors approved, to send safe conducts for the

King’s plenipotentiaries, with a view to closer conference:

they were expected at Oxford with the most painful anxiety,

but they never arrived. The Independent generals were not

yet inclined to enter blindly into relations with the King.