CIVIL WAR.
[Sidenote: Increasing demands of the Commons.]
The way in which the king came at last to a final rupture with
Parliament was this. The victory which the Commons gained in the case
of Strafford had greatly increased their confidence and their power,
and the king found, for some months afterward, that instead of being
satisfied with the concessions he had made, they were continually
demanding more. The more he yielded, the more they encroached. They
grew, in a word, bolder and bolder, in proportion to their success.
They considered themselves doing the state a great and good service by
disarming tyranny of its power. The king, on the other hand, considered
them as undermining all the foundations of good government, and as
depriving him of personal rights, the most sacred and solemn that could
vest in any human being.
[Sidenote: The king gradually loses his power.]
It will be recollected that on former occasions, when the king had got
into contention with a Parliament, he had dissolved it, and either
attempted to govern without one, or else had called for a new election,
hoping that the new members would be more compliant. But he could not
dissolve the Parliament now. They had provided against this danger. At
the time of the trial of Strafford, they brought in a bill into the
Commons providing that thenceforth the Houses could not be prorogued
or dissolved without their own consent. The Commons, of course, passed
the bill very readily. The Peers were more reluctant, but they did not
dare to reject it. The king was extremely unwilling to sign the bill;
but, amid the terrible excitements and dangers of that trial, he was
overborne by the influences of danger and intimidation which surrounded
him. He signed the bill. Of course the Commons were, thereafter, their
own masters. However dangerous or destructive the king might consider
their course of conduct to be, he could now no longer arrest it, as
heretofore, by a dissolution.
He went on, therefore, till the close of 1641, yielding slowly and
reluctantly, and with many struggles, but still all the time yielding,
to the resistless current which bore him along. At last he resolved
to yield no longer. After retreating so long, he determined suddenly
and desperately to face about and attack his enemies. The whole world
looked on with astonishment at such a sudden change of his policy.
[Sidenote: The king determines to change his policy.]
The measure which he resorted to was this. He determined to select a
number of the most efficient and prominent men in Parliament, who had
been leaders in the proceedings against him, and demand their arrest,
imprisonment, and trial, on a charge of high treason. The king was
influenced to do this partly by the advice of the queen, and of the
ladies of the court, and other persons who did not understand how deep
and strong the torrent was which they thus urged him to attempt to
stem. They thought that if he would show a little courage and energy
in facing these men, they would yield in their turn, and that their
boldness and success was owing, in a great measure, to the king's want
of spirit in resisting them. "Strike boldly at them," said they; "seize
the leaders; have them tried, and condemned, and executed. Threaten the
rest with the same fate; and follow up these measures with energetic
and decisive action, and you will soon make a change in the aspect of
affairs."
[Sidenote: 1642.]
[Sidenote: The king sends his officers to the House.]
The king adopted this policy, and he did make a change in the aspect
of affairs, but not such a change as his advisers had anticipated.
The Commons were thrown suddenly into a state of astonishment one day
by the appearance of a king's officer in the House, who rose and read
articles of a charge of treason against five of the most influential
and popular members. The officer asked that a committee should be
appointed to hear the evidence against them which the king was
preparing. The Commons, on hearing this, immediately voted, that if any
person should attempt even to seize the papers of the persons accused,
it should be lawful for them to resist such an attempt by every means
in their power.
The next day another officer appeared at the bar of the House of
Commons, and spoke as follows. "I am commanded by the king's majesty,
my master, upon my allegiance, that I should come to the House of
Commons, and require of Mr. Speaker five gentlemen, members of the
House of Commons; and those gentlemen being delivered, I am commanded
to arrest them in his majesty's name, on a charge of high treason." The
Commons, on hearing this demand, voted that they would take it into
consideration!
[Sidenote: The king goes to the House himself.]
[Sidenote: The king's speech in the House.]
The king's friends and advisers urged him to follow the matter up
vigorously. Every thing depended, they said, on firmness and decision.
The next day, accordingly, the king determined to go himself to the
House, and make the demand in person. A lady of the court, who was made
acquainted with this plan, sent notice of it to the House. In going,
the king took his guard with him, and several personal attendants. The
number of soldiers was said to be five hundred. He left this great
retinue at the door, and he himself entered the House. The Commons,
when they heard that he was coming, had ordered the five members who
were accused to withdraw. They went out just before the king came in.
The king advanced to the speaker's chair, took his seat, and made the
following address.
"Gentlemen,--I am sorry for this occasion of coming unto you.
Yesterday I sent a Sergeant-at-Arms upon a very important occasion
to apprehend some that by my Command were accused of High Treason;
whereunto I did expect Obedience and not a message. And I must declare
unto you here, that albeit no king that ever was in England shall be
more careful of your Privileges, to maintain them to the uttermost
of his Power, than I shall be; yet you must know that in cases of
Treason no Person hath a Privilege; and therefore I am come to know if
any of those Persons that were accused are here. For I must tell you,
Gentlemen, that so long as these Persons that I have accused (for no
slight Crime, but for Treason) are here, I can not expect that this
House will be in the right way that I do heartily wish it. Therefore I
am come to tell you that I must have them wherever I find them."
After looking around, and finding that the members in question were not
in the hall, he continued:
"Well! since I see the Birds are flown, I do expect from you that you
shall send them unto me as soon as they return hither. But I assure
you, on the Word of a King, I never did intend any Force, but shall
proceed against them in a legal and fair way, for I never meant any
other.
"I will trouble you no more, but tell you I do expect, as soon as they
come to the House, you will send them to me, otherwise I must take my
own course to find them."
[Sidenote: Great excitement in the House.]
[Sidenote: The speaker's reply.]
The king's coming thus into the House of Commons, and demanding in
person that they should act according to his instructions, was a very
extraordinary circumstance--perhaps unparalleled in English history. It
produced the greatest excitement. When he had finished his address, he
turned to the speaker and asked him where those men were. He had his
guard ready at the door to seize them. It is difficult for us, in this
country, to understand fully to how severe a test this sudden question
put the presence of mind and courage of the speaker; for we can not
realize the profound and awful deference which was felt in those days
for the command of a king. The speaker gained great applause for the
manner in which he stood the trial. He fell upon his knees before the
great potentate who had addressed him, and said, "I have, sir, neither
eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, in this place, but as the House is
pleased to direct me, whose servant I am. And I humbly ask pardon that
I can not give any other answer to what your majesty is pleased to
demand of me."
[Sidenote: Results of the king's rashness.]
The House was immediately in a state of great excitement and confusion.
They called out "_Privilege! privilege!_" meaning that their
privileges were violated. They immediately adjourned. News of the
affair spread every where with the greatest rapidity, and produced
universal and intense excitement. The king's friends were astonished at
such an act of rashness and folly, which, it is said, only _one_ of the
king's advisers knew any thing about, and he immediately fled. The five
members accused went that night into the city of London, and called on
the government and people of London to protect them. The people armed
themselves. In a word, the king found at night that he had raised a
very threatening and terrible storm.
[Sidenote: Committee of the Commons.]
The Commons met the next morning, but did not attempt to transact
business. They simply voted that it was useless for them to proceed
with their deliberations, while exposed to such violations of their
rights. They appointed a committee of twenty-four to inquire into
and report the circumstances of the king's intrusion into their
councils, and to consider how this breach of their privileges could be
repaired. They ordered this committee to sit in the city of London,
where they might hope to be safe from such interruptions, and then the
House adjourned for a week, to await the result of the committee's
deliberations.
The committee went to London. In the mean time, news went all over the
kingdom that the House of Commons had been compelled to suspend its
sittings on account of an illegal and unwarrantable interference with
their proceedings on the part of the king. The king was alarmed; but
those who had advised him to adopt this measure told him that he must
not falter now. He must persevere and carry his point, or all would be
lost.
[Sidenote: The king goes to London.]
[Sidenote: Cries of the people.]
He accordingly did persevere. He brought troops and arms to his palace
at Whitehall, to be ready to defend it in case of attack. He sent in to
London, and ordered the lord mayor to assemble the city authorities at
the Guildhall, which is the great city hall of London; and then, with
a retinue of noblemen, he went in to meet them. The people shouted,
"_Privileges of Parliament! privileges of Parliament!_" as he passed
along. Some called out, "_To your tents, O Israel!_" which was the
ancient Hebrew cry of rebellion. The king, however, persevered. When he
reached the Guildhall, he addressed the city authorities thus:
"Gentlemen,--I am come to demand such Persons as I have already accused
of High Treason, and do believe are shrouded in the City. I hope
no good Man will keep them from Me. Their Offenses are Treason and
Misdemeanors of a high Nature. I desire your Assistance, that they may
be brought to a legal Trial." Three days after this the king issued
a proclamation, addressed to all magistrates and officers of justice
every where, to arrest the accused members and carry them to the Tower.
[Sidenote: Preparations to escort the committee to Westminster.]
In the mean time, the committee of twenty-four continued their session
in London, examining witnesses and preparing their report. When the
time arrived for the House of Commons to meet again, which was on the
11th of January, the city made preparations to have the committee
escorted in an imposing manner from the Guildhall to Westminster. A
vast amount of the intercommunication and traffic between different
portions of the city then, as now, took place upon the river, though
in those days it was managed by watermen, who rowed small wherries to
and fro. Innumerable steamboats take the place of the wherries at the
present day, and stokers and engineers have superseded the watermen.
The watermen were then, however, a large and formidable body, banded
together, like the other trades of London, in one great organization.
This great company turned out on this occasion, and attended the
committee in barges on the river, while the military companies of the
city marched along the streets upon the land. The committee themselves
went in barges on the water, and all London flocked to see the
spectacle. The king, hearing of these arrangements, was alarmed for
his personal safety, and left his palace at Whitehall to go to Hampton
Court, which was a little way out of town.
[Sidenote: Report of the committee.]
The committee, after entering the House, reported that the transactions
which they had been considering constituted a high breach of the
privileges of the House, and was a seditious act, tending to a
subversion of the peace of the kingdom; and that the privileges
of Parliament, so violated and broken, could not be sufficiently
vindicated, unless his majesty would be pleased to inform them who
advised him to do such a deed.
[Sidenote: Alarm of the king.]
[Sidenote: The king yields.]
The king was more and more seriously alarmed. He found that the storm
of public odium and indignation was too great for him to withstand.
He began to fear for his own safety more than ever. He removed from
Hampton Court to Windsor Castle, a stronger place, and more remote
from London than Hampton Court; and he now determined to give up the
contest. He sent a message, therefore, to the House, saying that,
on further reflection, since so many persons had doubts whether
his proceedings against the five members were consistent with the
privileges of Parliament, he would waive them, and the whole subject
might rest until the minds of men were more composed, and then, if
he proceeded against the accused members at all, he would do so in a
manner to which no exception could be taken. He said, also, he would
henceforth be as careful of their privileges as he should be of his own
life or crown.
[Sidenote: Increasing excitement.]
Thus he acknowledged himself vanquished in the struggle, but the
acknowledgment came too late to save him. The excitement increased,
and spread in every direction. The party of the king and that of
the Parliament disputed for a few months about these occurrences,
and others growing out of them, and then each began to maneuver and
struggle to get possession of the military power of the kingdom. The
king, finding himself not safe in the vicinity of London, retreated to
York, and began to assemble and organize his followers. Parliament sent
him a declaration that if he did not disband the forces which he was
assembling, they should be compelled to provide measures for securing
the peace of the kingdom. The king replied by proclamations calling
upon his subjects to join his standard. In a word, before midsummer,
the country was plunged in the horrors of civil war.
[Sidenote: Civil war.]
[Sidenote: Its nature.]
A civil war, that is, a war between two parties in the same country,
is generally far more savage and sanguinary than any other. The hatred
and the animosities which it creates, ramify throughout the country,
and produce universal conflict and misery. If there were a war between
France and England, there might be one, or perhaps two invading armies
of Frenchmen attempting to penetrate into the interior. All England
would be united against them. Husbands and wives, parents and children,
neighbors and friends, would be drawn together more closely than ever;
while the awful scenes of war and bloodshed, the excitement, the
passion, the terror, would be confined to a few detached spots, or to a
few lines of march which the invading armies had occupied.
[Sidenote: Cruelties and miseries of civil war.]
In a civil war, however, it is very different. Every distinct portion
of the country, every village and hamlet, and sometimes almost every
family, is divided against itself. The hostility and hatred, too,
between the combatants, is always far more intense and bitter than that
which is felt against a foreign foe. We might at first be surprised
at this. We might imagine that where men are contending with their
neighbors and fellow-townsmen, the recollection of past friendships
and good-will, and various lingering ties of regard, would moderate
the fierceness of their anger, and make them more considerate and
forbearing. But this is not found to be the case. Each party considers
the other as not only enemies, but traitors, and accordingly they hate
and abhor each other with a double intensity. If an Englishman has a
_Frenchman_ to combat, he meets him with a murderous impetuosity, it
is true, but without any special bitterness of animosity. He _expects_
the Frenchman to be his enemy. He even thinks he has a sort of natural
right to be so. He will kill him if he can; but then, if he takes him
prisoner, there is nothing in his feelings toward him to prevent his
treating him with generosity, and even with kindness. He hates him,
but there is a sort of good-nature in his hatred, after all. On the
other hand, when he fights against his countrymen in a civil war, he
abhors and hates with unmingled bitterness the traitorous ingratitude
which he thinks his neighbors and friends evince in turning enemies to
their country. He can see no honesty, no truth, no courage in any thing
they do. They are infinitely worse, in his estimation, than the most
ferocious of foreign foes. Civil war is, consequently, always the means
of far wider and more terrible mischief than any other human calamity.
[Sidenote: Taking sides between the king and Parliament.]
In the contention between Charles and the Parliament, the various
elements of the social state adhered to one side or the other,
according to their natural predilections. The Episcopalians generally
joined the king, the Presbyterians the Parliament. The gentry and the
nobility favored the king; the mechanics, artisans, merchants, and
common people the Parliament. The rural districts of country, which
were under the control of the great landlords, the king; the cities and
towns, the Parliament. The gay, and fashionable, and worldly, the king;
the serious-minded and austere, the Parliament. Thus every thing was
divided. The quarrel ramified to every hamlet and to every fireside,
and the peace and happiness of the realm were effectually destroyed.
[Sidenote: Preparations for war.]
[Sidenote: Fruitless negotiations.]
Both sides began to raise armies and to prepare for war. Before
commencing hostilities, however, the king was persuaded by his
counselors to send a messenger to London and propose some terms of
accommodation. He accordingly sent the Earl of Southampton to the
House of Peers, and two other persons to the House of Commons. He
had no expectation, probably, of making peace, but he wanted to gain
time to get his army together, and also to strengthen his cause among
the people by showing a disposition to do all in his power to avoid
open war. The messengers of the king went to London, and made their
appearance in the two houses of Parliament.
The House of Lords ordered the Earl of Southampton to withdraw, and to
send his communication in in writing, and in the mean time to retire
out of London, and wait for their answer. The House of Commons, in the
same spirit of hostility and defiance, ordered the messengers which
had been sent to them to come to the bar, like humble petitioners or
criminals, and make their communication there.
The propositions of the king to the houses of Parliament were, that
they should appoint a certain number of commissioners, and he also the
same number, to meet and confer together, in hope of agreeing upon
some conditions of peace. The houses passed a vote in reply, declaring
that they had been doing all in their power to preserve the peace of
the kingdom, while the king had been interrupting and disturbing it
by his military gatherings, and by proclamations, in which they were
called traitors; and that they could enter into no treaty with him
until he disbanded the armies which he had collected, and recalled his
proclamations.
[Sidenote: Messages between the king and Parliament.]
To this the king replied that he had never intended to call them
traitors; and that when they would recall their declarations and votes
stigmatizing those who adhered to him as traitors, he would recall
his proclamations. Thus messages passed back and forth two or three
times, each party criminating the other, and neither willing to make
the concessions which the other required. At last all hope of an
accommodation was abandoned, and both sides prepared for war.
[Sidenote: 1643.]
[Sidenote: Ravages of the war.]
The nobility and gentry flocked to the king's standard. They brought
their plate, their jewels, and their money to provide funds. Some of
them brought their servants. There were two companies in the king's
guard, one of which consisted of gentlemen, and the other of their
servants. These two companies were always kept together. There was the
greatest zeal and enthusiasm among the upper classes to serve the king,
and equal zeal and enthusiasm among the common people to serve the
Parliament. The war continued for four years. During all this time the
armies marched and countermarched all over the kingdom, carrying ruin
and destruction wherever they went, and plunging the whole country in
misery.
[Illustration: THE KING'S ADHERENTS ENTERING YORK.]
[Sidenote: Death of Hampden.]
At one of the battles which was fought, the celebrated John Hampden,
the man who would not pay his ship money, was slain. He had been a very
energetic and efficient officer on the Parliamentary side, and was
much dreaded by the forces of the king. At one of the battles between
Prince Rupert, Charles's nephew, and the army of the Parliament, the
prince brought to the king's camp a large number of prisoners which
he had taken. One of the prisoners said he was confident that Hampden
was hurt, for he saw him riding off the field before the battle was
over, with his head hanging down, and his hands clasping the neck of
his horse. They heard the next day that he had been wounded in
the shoulder. Inflammation and fever ensued, and he died a few days
afterward in great agony.
[Sidenote: Prince Rupert. His knowledge and ingenuity.]
This Prince Rupert was a very famous character in all these wars.
He was young and ardent, and full of courage and enthusiasm. He was
always foremost and ready to embark in the most daring undertakings.
He was the son of the king's sister Elizabeth, who married the Elector
Palatine, as narrated in a preceding chapter. He was famous not only
for his military skill and attainments, but for his knowledge of
science, and for his ingenuity in many philosophical arts. There is
a mode of engraving called mezzotinto, which is somewhat easier of
execution than the common mode, and produces a peculiar effect. Prince
Rupert is said to have been the inventor of it, though, as is the case
with almost all other inventions, there is a dispute about it. He
discovered a mode of dropping melted glass into water so as to form
little pear-shaped globules, with a long slender tail. These globules
have this remarkable property, that if the tip of the tail is broken
off ever so gently, the whole flies into atoms with an explosion.
These drops of glass are often exhibited at the present day, and
are called Prince Rupert's drops. The prince also discovered a very
tenacious composition of metals for casting cannon. As artillery is
necessarily very heavy, and very difficult to be transported on marches
and upon the field of battle, it becomes very important to discover
such metallic compounds as have the greatest strength and tenacity in
resisting the force of an explosion. Prince Rupert invented such a
compound, which is called by his name.
[Sidenote: Progress of the war.]
[Sidenote: Difficulty of making peace.]
[Sidenote: The women clamor for peace.]
There were not only a great many battles and fierce encounters between
the two great parties in this civil war, but there were also, at
times, temporary cessations of the hostilities, and negotiations for
peace. But it is very hard to make peace between two powers engaged
in civil war. Each considers the other as acting the part of rebels
and traitors, and there is a difficulty, almost insuperable, in the
way of even opening negotiations between them. Still the people became
tired of the war. At one time, when the king had made some propositions
which the Parliament would not accept, an immense assemblage of women
collected together, with white ribbons in their hats, to go to the
House of Commons with a petition for peace. When they reached the door
of the hall their number was five thousand. They called out, "Peace!
peace! Give us those traitors that are against peace, that we may tear
them to pieces." The guards who were stationed at the door were ordered
to fire at this crowd, loading their guns, however, only with powder.
This, it was thought, would frighten them away; but the women only
laughed at the volley, and returned it with stones and brickbats, and
drove the guards away. Other troops were then sent for, who charged
upon the women with their swords, and cut them in their faces and
hands, and thus at length dispersed them.
[Sidenote: Queen Henrietta's arrival in England.]
During the progress of the war, the queen returned from the Continent
and joined the king. She had some difficulty, however, and encountered
some personal danger, in her efforts to return to her husband. The
vice-admiral, who had command of the English ships off the coast,
received orders to intercept her. He watched for her. She contrived,
however, to elude his vigilance, though there were four ships in her
convoy. She landed at a town called Burlington, or Bridlington, in
Yorkshire. This town stands in a very picturesque situation, a little
south of a famous promontory called Flamborough Head, of which there is
a beautiful view from the pier of the town.
[Sidenote: The vice-admiral cannonades the queen.]
The queen succeeded in landing here. On her arrival at the town, she
found herself worn down with the anxiety and fatigue of the voyage,
and she wanted to stop a few days to rest. She took up her residence
in a house which was on the quay, and, of course, near the water. The
quay, as it is called, in these towns, is a street on the margin of
the water, with a wall, but no houses next the sea. The vice-admiral
arrived at the town the second night after the queen had landed. He was
vexed that his expected prize had escaped him. He brought his ships up
near to the town, and began to fire toward the house in which the queen
was lodging.
[Illustration: THE LANDING OF THE QUEEN.]
This was at five o'clock in the morning. The queen and her attendants
were in their beds, asleep. The reports of the cannon from the ships,
the terrific whistling of the balls through the air, and the crash of
the houses which the balls struck, aroused the whole village from their
slumbers, and threw them into consternation. The people soon came to
the house where the queen was lodging, and begged her to fly. They
said that the neighboring houses were blown to pieces, and that her own
would soon be destroyed, and she herself would be killed. They may,
however, have been influenced more by a regard to their own safety than
to hers in these injunctions, as it must have been a great object with
the villagers to effect the immediate removal of a visitor who was the
means of bringing upon them so terrible a danger.
[Sidenote: The queen's danger.]
These urgent entreaties of the villagers were soon enforced by two
cannon-balls, which fell, one after another, upon the roof of the
house, and, crashing their way through the roof and the floors, went
down, without seeming to regard the resistance, from the top to the
bottom. The queen hastily put on her clothes, and went forth with her
attendants on foot, the balls from the ships whistling after them all
the way.
[Sidenote: She seeks shelter in a trench.]
One of her servants was killed. The rest of the fugitives, finding
their exposure so great, stopped at a sort of trench which they came
to, at the end of a field, such as is dug commonly, in England, on one
side of the hedge, to make the barrier more impassable to the animals
which it is intended to confine. This trench, with the embankment
formed by the earth thrown out of it, on which the hedge is usually
planted, afforded them protection. They sought shelter in it, and
remained there for two hours, like besiegers in the approaches to a
town, the balls passing over their heads harmlessly, though sometimes
covering them with the earth which they threw up as they bounded by.
At length the tide began to ebb, and the vice-admiral was in danger
of being left aground. He weighed his anchors and withdrew, and the
queen and her party were relieved. Such a cannonading of a helpless and
defenseless woman is a barbarity which could hardly take place except
in a civil war.
[Sidenote: The queen joins her husband.]
[Sidenote: Her influence.]
The queen rejoined her husband, and she rendered him essential service
in many ways. She had personal influence enough to raise both money and
men for his armies, and so contributed very essentially to the strength
of his party. At last she returned to the Continent again, and went to
Paris, where she was still actively employed in promoting his cause. At
one of the battles in which the king was defeated, the Parliamentary
army seized his baggage, and found among his papers his correspondence
with the queen. They very ungenerously ordered it to be published, as
the letters seemed to show a vigorous determination on the part of the
king not to yield in the contest without obtaining from the Parliament
and their adherents full and ample concessions to his claims.
[Sidenote: 1646.]
[Sidenote: The royal cause declines.]
[Sidenote: The Prince of Wales.]
As time rolled on, the strength of the royal party gradually wasted
away, while that of Parliament seemed to increase, until it became
evident that the latter would, in the end, obtain the victory. The king
retreated from place to place, followed by his foes, and growing weaker
and more discouraged after every conflict. His son, the Prince of
Wales, was then about fifteen years of age. He sent him to the western
part of the island, with directions that, if affairs should still go
against him, the boy should be taken in time out of the country, and
join his mother in Paris. The danger grew more and more imminent, and
they who had charge of the young prince sent him first to Scilly, and
then to Jersey--islands in the Channel--whence he made his escape to
Paris, and joined his mother. Fifteen years afterward he returned to
London with great pomp and parade, and was placed upon the throne by
universal acclamation.
[Sidenote: Hopeless condition of the king.]
At last the king himself, after being driven from one place of
refuge to another, retreated to Oxford and intrenched himself there.
Here he spent the winter of 1646 in extreme depression and distress.
His friends deserted him; his resources were expended; his hopes
were extinguished. He sent proposals of peace to the Parliament,
and offered, himself, to come to London, if they would grant him a
safe-conduct. In reply, they _forbade_ him to come. They would listen
to no propositions, and would make no terms. The case, they saw, was in
their own hands, and they determined on unconditional submission. They
hemmed the king in on all sides at his retreat in Oxford, and reduced
him to despair.
[Sidenote: Invasion by the Scots.]
[Sidenote: The king surrenders to the Scots.]
[Sidenote: End of the civil war.]
In the mean time, the Scots, a year or two before this, had raised an
army and crossed the northern frontier, and entered England. They were
against monarchy and Episcopacy, but they were, in some respects, a
separate enemy from those against whom the king had been contending so
long; and he began to think that he had perhaps better fall into their
hands than into those of his English foes, if he must submit to one or
to the other. He hesitated for some time what course to take; but at
last, after receiving representations of the favorable feeling which
prevailed in regard to him in the Scottish army, he concluded to make
his escape from Oxford and surrender himself to them. He accordingly did
so, and the civil war was ended.