CHARLES I.
{1647.} The dominion of the parliament was of short duration. No sooner
had they subdued their sovereign, than their own servants rose against
them, and tumbled them from their slippery throne. The sacred boundaries
of the laws being once violated, nothing remained to confine the wild
projects of zeal and ambition: and every successive revolution became a
precedent for that which followed it.
In proportion as the terror of the king's power diminished, the division
between Independent and Presbyterian became every day more apparent;
and the neuters found it at last requisite to seek shelter in one or the
other faction. Many new writs were issued for elections, in the room of
members who had died, or were disqualified by adhering to the king; yet
still the Presbyterians retained the superiority among the commons:
and all the peers, except Lord Say, were esteemed of that party. The
Independents, to whom the inferior sectaries adhered, predominated in
the army; and the troops of the new model were universally infected with
that enthusiastic spirit. To their assistance did the Independent party
among the commons chiefly trust in their projects for acquiring the
ascendant over their antagonists.
Soon after the retreat of the Scots, the Presbyterians, seeing every
thing reduced to obedience, began to talk of diminishing the army; and,
on pretence of easing the public burdens, they levelled a deadly blow at
the opposite faction. They purposed to embark a strong detachment, under
Skippon and Massey, for the service of Ireland; they openly declared
their intention of making a great reduction of the remainder.[*] It was
even imagined that another new model of the army was projected, in
order to regain to the Presbyterians that superiority which they had so
imprudently lost by the former.[**]
* Fourteen thousand men were only intended to be kept up;
six thousand horse, six thousand foot, and two thousand
dragoons. Bates.
** Rush. vol. vii. p. 564.
The army had small inclination to the service of Ireland; a country
barbarous, uncultivated, and laid waste by massacres and civil
commotions: they had less inclination to disband, and to renounce that
pay which, having earned it through fatigues and dangers, they now
purposed to enjoy in ease and tranquillity. And most of the officers,
having risen from the dregs of the people, had no other prospect, if
deprived of their commission, than that of returning to languish in
their native poverty and obscurity.
These motives of interest acquired additional influence, and became more
dangerous to the parliament, from the religious spirit by which the
army was universally actuated. Among the generality of men educated in
regular, civilized societies, the sentiments of shame, duty, honor,
have considerable authority, and serve to counterbalance and direct
the motives derived from private advantage: but, by the predominancy of
enthusiasm among the parliamentary forces, these salutary principles lost
their credit, and were regarded as mere human inventions, yea, moral
institutions, fitter for heathens than for Christians.[*] The saint,
resigned over to superior guidance, was at full liberty to gratify all
his appetites, disguised under the appearance of pious zeal. And
besides the strange corruptions engendered by this spirit, it eluded
and loosened all the ties of morality, and gave entire scope, and even
sanction, to the selfishness and ambition which naturally adhere to the
human mind.
The military confessors were further encouraged in disobedience to
superiors, by that spiritual pride to which a mistaken piety is so
subject. They were not, they said, mere janizaries; mercenary
troops enlisted for hire, and to be disposed of at the will of their
paymasters.[**] Religion and liberty were the motives which had excited
them to arms; and they had a superior right to see those blessings,
which they had purchased with their blood, insured to future
generations. By the same title that the Presbyterians, in
contradistinction to the royalists, had appropriated to themselves the
epithet of godly, or the well affected,[***] the Independents did now,
in contradistinction to the Presbyterians, assume this magnificent
appellation, and arrogate all the ascendant which naturally belongs to
it.
* Rush. vol. vi. p. 134.
** Rush, vol. vii. p. 565.
*** Bush. vol. vii. p 474.
Hearing of parties in the house of commons, and being informed that
the minority were friends to the army, the majority enemies, the troops
naturally interested themselves in that dangerous distinction, and were
eager to give the superiority to their partisans. Whatever hardships
they underwent, though perhaps derived from inevitable necessity, were
ascribed to a settled design of oppressing them, and resented as an
effect of the animosity and malice of their adversaries.
Notwithstanding the great revenue which accrued from taxes, assessments,
sequestrations, and compositions, considerable arrears were due to
the army; and many of the private men, as well as officers, had near
a twelvemonth's pay still owing them. The army suspected that this
deficiency was purposely contrived in order to oblige them to live at
free quarters; and, by rendering them odious to the country, serve as
a pretence for disbanding them. When they saw such members as were
employed in committees and civil offices accumulate fortunes, they
accused them of rapine and public plunder. And as no plan was pointed
out by the commons for the payment of arrears, the soldiers dreaded,
that after they should be disbanded or embarked for Ireland, their
enemies, who predominated in the two houses, would entirely defraud them
of their right, and oppress them with impunity.
On this ground or pretence did the first commotions begin in the army.
A petition, addressed to Fairfax, the general, was handed about, craving
an indemnity, and that ratified by the king, for any illegal actions
of which, during the course of the war, the soldiers might have been
guilty; together with satisfaction in arrears, freedom from pressing,
relief of widows and maimed soldiers, and pay till disbanded.[*] The
commons, aware of what combustible materials the army was composed,
were alarmed at this intelligence. Such a combination, they knew, if
not checked in its first appearance, must be attended with the most
dangerous consequences, and must soon exalt the military above the civil
authority. Besides summoning some officers to answer for this attempt,
they immediately voted, that the petition tended to introduce mutiny,
to put conditions upon the parliament, and to obstruct the relief of
Ireland; and they threatened to proceed against the promoters of it as
enemies to the state, and disturbers of public peace.[**]
* Parl. Hist. vol. xv. p. 342
** Parl. Hist vol. xv. p. 344.
This declaration, which may be deemed violent, especially as the army
had some ground for complaint, produced fatal effects. The soldiers
lamented, that they were deprived of the privileges of Englishmen; that
they were not allowed so much as to represent their grievances; that,
while petitions from Essex and other places were openly encouraged
against the army, their mouths were stopped; and that they, who were
the authors of liberty to the nation, were reduced, by a faction in
parliament, to the most grievous servitude.
In this disposition was the army found by Warwick, Dacres, Massey, and
other commissioners, who were sent to make them proposals for entering
into the service of Ireland.[*] instead of enlisting, the generality
objected to the terms; demanded an indemnity; were clamorous for their
arrears; and, though they expressed no dissatisfaction against Skippon,
who was appointed commander, they discovered much stronger inclination
to serve under Fairfax and Cromwell.[**] Some officers, who were of the
Presbyterian party, having entered into engagements for this service,
could prevail on very few of the soldiers to enlist under them. And,
as these officers lay all under the grievous reproach of deserting the
army, and betraying the interests of their companions, the rest
were further confirmed in that confederacy which they had secretly
formed.[***]
To petition and remonstrate being the most cautious method of conducting
a confederacy, an application to parliament was signed by near two
hundred officers, in which they made their apology with a very imperious
air, asserted their right of petitioning, and complained of that
imputation thrown upon them by the former declaration of the lower
house.[****] The private men, likewise, of some regiments sent a letter
to Skippon, in which, together with insisting on the same topics, they
lament that designs were formed against them and many of the godly party
in the kingdom; and declare that they could not engage for Ireland, till
they were satisfied in their expectations, and had their just desires
granted.[v] The army, in a word, felt their power, and resolved to be
masters.
* Rush. vol. vii, p. 457.
** Rush. vol. vii. p. 458.
*** Rush. vol. vii. p. 461, 556.
**** Rush. vol. vii. p. 468.
v Rush. vol. vii. p. 474.
The parliament, too, resolved, if possible, to preserve their dominion;
but being destitute of power; and not retaining much authority, it was
not easy for them to employ any expedient which could contribute to
their purpose. The expedient which they now made use of was the worst
imaginable. They sent Skippon, Cromwell, Ireton, and Fleetwood, to the
head quarters at Saffron Weldon, in Essex, and empowered them to make
offers to the army, and inquire into the cause of its distempers. These
very generals, at least the three last, were secretly the authors of
all the discontents; and failed not to foment those disorders which they
pretended to appease. By their suggestion, a measure was embraced which
at once brought matters to extremity, and rendered the mutiny incurable.
In opposition to the parliament at Westminster, a military parliament
was formed. Together with a council of the principal officers, which
was appointed after the model of the house of peers, a more free
representative of the army was composed, by the election of two private
men or inferior officers, under the title of agitators, from each troop
or company.[*] By this means, both the general humor of that time was
gratified, intent on plans of imaginary republics; and an easy method
contrived for conducting, underhand, and propagating the sedition of the
army.
This terrible court, when assembled, having first declared that they
found no distempers in the army, but many grievances under which it
labored, immediately voted the offers of the parliament unsatisfactory.
Eight weeks' pay alone, they said, was promised; a small part of
fifty-six weeks, which they claimed as their due: no visible security
was given for the remainder: and having been declared public enemies
by the commons, they might hereafter be prosecuted as such, unless
the declaration were recalled.[**] Before matters came to this height,
Cromwell had posted up to London, on pretence of laying before the
parliament the rising discontents of the army.
The parliament made one vigorous effort more, to try the force of their
authority: they voted, that all the troops which did not engage for
Ireland, should instantly be disbanded in their quarters.[***]
* Rush. vol. vii p. 485. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 43.
** Rusk. vol. vii p. 497, 505. Whitlocke, p. 250.
*** Rush. vol. vii. p. 487.
At the same time, the council of the army ordered a general rendezvous
of all the regiments, in order to provide for their common interests.
And while they thus prepared themselves for opposition to the
parliament, they struck a blow which at once decided the victory in
their favor.
A party of five hundred horse appeared at Holdenby, conducted by one
Joyce, who had once been a tailor by profession, but was now advanced
to the rank of cornet, and was an active agitator in the army. Without
being opposed by the guard, whose affections were all on their side,
Joyce came into the king's presence, armed with pistols, and told him,
that he must immediately go along with him. "Whither?" said the king.
"To the army," replied Joyce. "By what warrant?" asked the king. Joyce
pointed to the soldiers whom he brought along; tall, handsome, and
well accoutred. "Your warrant," said Charles, smiling, "is writ in
fair characters, legible without spelling."[*] The parliamentary
commissioners came into the room: they asked Joyce whether he had any
orders from the parliament? he said, "No;" from the general? "No;" by
what authority he came? he made the same reply as to the king. "They
would write," they said, "to the parliament to know their pleasure."
"You may do so," replied Joyce; "but in the mean time, the king
must immediately go with me." Resistance was vain. The king, after
protracting the time as long as he could, went into his coach and was
safely conducted to the army, who were hastening to their rendezvous at
Triplo Heath, near Cambridge. The parliament, informed of this event by
their commissioners, were thrown into the utmost consternation.[**]
* Whitlocke, p. 254. Warwick, p. 299.
** Rush. vol. vii. p. 614, 515. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 47.
Fairfax himself was no less surprised at the king's arrival. That bold
measure, executed by Joyce, had never been communicated to the general.
The orders were entirely verbal, and nobody avowed them. And while every
one affected astonishment at the enterprise, Cromwell, by whose counsel
it had been directed, arrived from London, and put an end to their
deliberations.
This artful and audacious conspirator had conducted himself in
the parliament with such profound dissimulation, with such refined
hypocrisy, that he had long deceived those who, being themselves
very dexterous practitioners in the same arts, should naturally have
entertained the more suspicion against others. At every intelligence of
disorders in the army, he was moved to the highest pitch of grief and of
anger. He wept bitterly: he lamented the misfortunes of his country: he
advised every violent measure for suppressing the mutiny; and by these
precipitate counsels at once seemed to evince his own sincerity, and
inflamed those discontents of which he intended to make advantage. He
obtested heaven and earth, that his devoted attachment to the parliament
had rendered him so odious in the army, that his life, while among them,
was in the utmost danger; and he had very narrowly escaped a conspiracy
formed to assassinate him. But information being brought that the
most active officers and agitators were entirely his creatures, the
parliamentary leaders secretly resolved, that, next day, when he should
come to the house, an accusation should be entered against him, and he
should be sent to the Tower.[*] Cromwell, who, in the conduct of his
desperate enterprises, frequently approached to the very brink of
destruction, knew how to make the requisite turn with proper dexterity
and boldness. Being informed of this design, he hastened to the camp;
where he was received with acclamations, and was instantly invested with
the supreme command both of general and army.
* Clarendon, vol. v. p. 46.
Fairfax, having neither talents himself for cabal, nor penetration
to discover the cabals of others, had given his entire confidence to
Cromwell; who, by the best colored pretences, and by the appearance
of an open sincerity and a scrupulous conscience, imposed on the easy
nature of this brave and virtuous man. The council of officers and the
agitators were moved altogether by Cromwell's direction, and conveyed
his will to the whole army. By his profound and artful conduct, he
had now attained a situation where he could cover his enterprises from
public view; and seeming either to obey the commands of his superior
officer, or yield to the movements of the soldiers, could secretly pave
the way for his future greatness. While the disorders of the army
were yet in their infancy, he kept at a distance, lest his counterfeit
aversion might throw a damp upon them, or his secret encouragement beget
suspicion in the parliament. As soon as they came to maturity, he openly
joined the troops; and, in the critical moment, struck that important
blow of seizing the king's person, and depriving the parliament of any
resource of an accommodation with him. Though one visor fell off another
still remained to cover his natural countenance.
Where delay was requisite, he could employ the most indefatigable
patience: where celerity was necessary, he flew to a decision. And by
thus uniting in his person the most opposite talents, he was enabled
to combine the most contrary interests in a subserviency to his secret
purposes.
The parliament, though at present defenceless, was possessed of many
resources; and time might easily enable them to resist that violence
with which they were threatened. Without further deliberation,
therefore, Cromwell advanced the army upon them, and arrived in a few
days at St. Albans.
Nothing could be more popular than this hostility which the army
commenced against the parliament. As much as that assembly was once
the idol of the nation, as much was it now become the object of general
hatred and aversion.
The self-denying ordinance had no longer been put in execution, than
till Essex, Manchester, Waller, and the other officers of that party,
had resigned their commission: immediately after, it was laid aside by
tacit consent; and the members, sharing all offices of power and profit
among them, proceeded with impunity in exercising acts of oppression on
the helpless nation. Though the necessity of their situation might serve
as an apology for many of their measures, the people, not accustomed to
such a species of government, were not disposed to make the requisite
allowances.
A small supply of one hundred thousand pounds a year could never be
obtained by former kings from the jealous humor of parliaments; and the
English, of all nations in Europe, were the least accustomed to taxes;
but this parliament, from the commencement of the war, according to some
computations, had levied, in five years, above forty millions;[*] yet
were loaded with debts and incumbrances, which, during that age, were
regarded as prodigious. If these computations should be thought much
exaggerated, as they probably are,[**] the taxes and impositions were
certainly far higher than in any former state of the English government;
and such popular exaggerations are at least a proof of popular
discontents.
* Clement Walker's History of the two Juntos, prefixed to
his History of Independency, p. 8. This is an author of
spirit and ingenuity; and being a zealous parliamentarian,
his authority is very considerable, notwithstanding the air
of satire which prevails in his writings. This computation,
however, seems much too large; especially as the
sequestrations during the time of war could not be so
considerable as afterwards.
* Yet the same sum precisely is assigned in another book,
called Royal Treasury of England, p. 297.
But the disposal of this money was no less the object of general
complaint against the parliament than the levying of it. The sum of
three hundred thousand pounds they openly took, it is affirmed,[*] and
divided among their own members. The committees, to whom the management
of the different branches of revenue was intrusted, never brought in
their accounts, and had unlimited power of secreting whatever sums they
pleased from the public treasure.[**] These branches were needlessly
multiplied, in order to render the revenue more intricate, to share the
advantages among greater numbers, and to conceal the frauds of which
they were universally suspected.[***]
The method of keeping accounts practised in the exchequer, was
confessedly the exactest, the most ancient, the best known, and the
least liable to fraud. The exchequer was for that reason abolished, and
the revenue put under the management of a committee, who were subject to
no control.[****]
The excise was an odious tax, formerly unknown to the nation; and was
now extended over provisions, and the common necessaries of life. Near
one half of the goods and chattels, and at least one half of the lands,
rents, and revenues of the kingdom, had been sequestered. To great
numbers of loyalists, all redress from these sequestrations was
refused: to the rest, the remedy could be obtained only by paying large
compositions, and subscribing the covenant, which they abhorred.
Besides pitying the ruin and desolation of so many ancient and honorable
families, indifferent spectators could not but blame the hardship of
punishing with such severity actions which the law, in its usual and
most undisputed interpretation, strictly required of every subject.
The severities, too, exercised against the Episcopal clergy naturally
affected the royalists, and even all men of candor, in a sensible
manner. By the most moderate computation,[v] it appears, that above one
half of the established clergy had been turned out to beggary and
want, for no other crime than their adhering to the civil and religious
principles in which they had been educated, and for their attachment
to those laws under whose countenance they had at first embraced that
profession.
* Clement Walker's History of Independency, p. 3, 166.
** Clement Walker's History of Independency, p, 8.
*** Clement Walker's History of Independency, p. 8.
**** Clement Walker's History of Independency, p. 8.
v See John Walker's Attempt towards recovering an Account of
the Numbers and Sufferings of the Clergy. The parliament
pretended to leave the sequestered clergy a fifth of their
revenue; but this author makes it sufficiently appear that
this provision, small as it is, was never regularly paid the
ejected clergy.
To renounce Episcopacy and the liturgy, and to subscribe the covenant,
were the only terms which could save them from so rigorous a fate; and
if the least mark of malignancy, as it was called, or affection to the
king, who so entirely loved them, had ever escaped their lips, even this
hard choice was not permitted. The sacred character, which gives the
priesthood such authority over mankind, becoming more venerable from
the sufferings endured for the sake of principle by these distressed
royalists, aggravated the general indignation against their persecutors.
But what excited the most universal complaint was, the unlimited
tyranny and despotic rule of the country committees. During the war,
the discretionary power of these courts was excused, from the plea of
necessity; but the nation was reduced to despair, when it saw neither
end put to their duration, nor bounds to their authority. These could
sequester, fine, imprison, and corporally punish, without law or
remedy. They interposed in questions of private property. Under color of
malignancy, they exercised vengeance against their private enemies.
To the obnoxious, and sometimes to the innocent, they sold their
protection. And instead of one star chamber, which had been abolished,
a great number were anew erected, fortified with better pretences, and
armed with more unlimited authority.[*]
* Clement Walker's History of Independency, p. 5. Hollis
gives the same representation as Walker, of the plundering,
oppressions, and tyranny of the parliament; only, instead of
laying the fault on both parties, as Walker does, he
ascribes it solely to the Independent faction. The
Presbyterians, indeed, being commonly denominated the
moderate party, would probably be more inoffensive. See
Rush. vol. vii. p. 598: and Parl. Hist. vol. xv. p. 230.
Could any thing have increased the indignation against that slavery into
which the nation, from the too eager pursuit of liberty, had fallen, it
must have been the reflection on the pretences by which the people
had so long been deluded. The sanctified hypocrites, who called their
oppressions the spoiling of the Egyptians, and their rigid severity the
dominion of the elect, interlarded all their iniquities with long and
fervent prayers, saved themselves from blushing by their pious grimaces,
and exercised, in the name of the Lord, all their cruelty on men.
An undisguised violence could be forgiven: but such a mockery of the
understanding, such an abuse of religion, were, with men of penetration,
objects of peculiar resentment.
The parliament, conscious of their decay in popularity, seeing a
formidable armed force advance upon them, were reduced to despair, and
found all their resources much inferior to the present necessity. London
still retained a strong attachment to Presbyterianism; and its militia,
which was numerous, and had acquired reputation in the wars, had, by
a late ordinance, been put into hands in whom the parliament could
entirely confide. This militia was now called out, and ordered to guard
the lines which had been drawn round the city, in order to secure it
against the king. A body of horse was ordered to be instantly levied.
Many officers, who had been cashiered by the new model of the army,
offered their service to the parliament. An army of five thousand men
lay in the north under the command of General Pointz, who was of the
Presbyterian faction; but these were too distant to be employed in so
urgent a necessity. The forces destined for Ireland were quartered in
the west; and, though deemed faithful to the parliament, they also lay
at a distance. Many inland garrisons were commanded by officer: of the
same party; but their troops, being so much dispersed, could at present
be of no manner of service. The Scots were faithful friends, and zealous
for Presbytery and the covenant; but a long time was required ere
they could collect their forces and march to the assistance of the
parliament.
In this situation it was thought more prudent to submit, and by
compliance to stop the fury of the enraged army. The declaration
by which the military petitioners had been voted public enemies was
recalled, and erased from the journal book.[*] This was the first
symptom which the parliament gave of submission; and the army, hoping
by terror alone to effect all their purposes, stopped at St. Albans, and
entered into negotiation with their masters.
* Rush. vol. vii. p. 503, 547. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 45.
Here commenced the encroachments of the military upon the civil
authority. The army, in their usurpations on the parliament, copied
exactly the model which the parliament itself had set them in their
recent usurpations on the crown.
Every day they rose in their demands. If one claim was granted, they had
another ready, still more enormous and exorbitant; and were determined
never to be satisfied. At first, they pretended only to petition
for what concerned themselves as soldiers: next, they must have a
vindication of their character: then, it was necessary that their
enemies be punished:[*] at last, they claimed a right of modelling the
whole government, and settling the nation.[**]
They preserved, in words, all deference and respect to the parliament;
but, in reality, insulted them and tyrannized over them. That assembly
they pretended not to accuse: it was only evil counsellors, who seduced
and betrayed it.
They proceeded so far as to name eleven members, whom, in general
terms, they charged with high treason, as enemies to the army and evil
counsellors to the parliament. Their names were Hollis, Sir Philip
Stapleton, Sir William Lewis, Sir John Clotworthy, Sir William Waller,
Sir John Maynard, Massey, Glyn, Long, Harley, and Nichols.[***] These
were the very leaders of the Presbyterian party.
They insisted, that these members should immediately be sequestered from
parliament, and be thrown into prison.[****] The commons replied, that
they could not, upon a general charge, proceed so far.[v] The army
observed to them, that the cases of Strafford and Laud were direct
precedents for that purpose.[v*] At last, the eleven members themselves,
not to give occasion for discord, begged leave to retire from the
house; and the army, for the present, seemed satisfied with this mark of
submission.[v**]
Pretending that the parliament intended to levy war upon them, and to
involve the nation again in blood and confusion, they required that
all new levies should be stopped. The parliament complied with this
demand.[v***]
* Rush. vol. vii. p. 509.
** Rush. vol. vii. p. 567, 633, vol. viii. p. 731.
*** Rush. vol. vii. p. 570.
**** Rush. vol. vii. p. 572.
v Rush. vol. vii. p. 592.
v* Rush. vol vii. p. 594. Whitlocke, p. 259.
v** Rush. vol. vii. p. 593, 594.
v*** Rush. vol. vii. p. 572, 574.
There being no signs of resistance, the army, in order to save
appearances, removed, at the desire of the parliament to a greater
distance from London, and fixed their head quarters at Reading. They
carried the king along with them in all their marches.
That prince now found himself in a better situation than at Holdenby,
and had attained some greater degree of freedom as well as of
consideration with both parties.
All his friends had access to his presence: his correspondence with the
queen was not interrupted: his chaplains were restored to him, and he
was allowed the use of the liturgy. His children were once allowed
to visit him, and they passed a few days at Caversham, where he then
resided.[*] He had not seen the duke of Gloucester, his youngest son,
and the princess Elizabeth, since he left London, at the commencement
of the civil disorders;[**] nor the duke of York, since he went to
the Scottish army before Newark. No private man, unacquainted with the
pleasures of a court and the tumult of a camp, more passionately
loved his family, than did this good prince; and such an instance of
indulgence in the army was extremely grateful to him. Cromwell, who was
witness to the meeting of the royal family, confessed that he never
had been present at so tender a scene; and he extremely applauded the
benignity which displayed itself in the whole disposition and behavior
of Charles.
That artful politician, as well as the leaders of all parties, paid
court to the king; and fortune, notwithstanding all his calamities,
seemed again to smile upon him. The parliament, afraid of his forming
some accommodation with the army, addressed him in a more respectful
style than formerly; and invited him to reside at Richmond, and
contribute his assistance to the settlement of the nation. The chief
officers treated him with regard, and spake on all occasions of
restoring him to his just powers and prerogatives. In the public
declarations of the army, the settlement of his revenue and authority
was insisted on.[***] The royalists every where entertained hopes of the
restoration of monarchy; and the favor which they universally bore to
the army, contributed very much to discourage the parliament, and to
forward their submission.
* Clarendon, vol. i. p. 51, 52, 57.
** When the king applied to have his children, the
parliament always told him, that they could take as much
care at London, both of their bodies and souls, as could be
done at Oxford. Parl. Hist. vol. xiii. p. 127.
*** Rush. vol. vii. p. 590.
The king began to feel of what consequence he was. The more the national
confusions increased, the more was he confident that all parties would
at length have recourse to his lawful authority, as the only remedy for
the public disorders "You cannot be without me," said he, on several
occasions: "you cannot settle the nation but by my assistance." A people
without government and without liberty, a parliament without authority,
an army without a legal master; distractions every where, terrors,
oppressions, convulsions: from this scene of confusion, which could not
long continue, all men, he hoped, would be brought to reflect on that
ancient government under which they and their ancestors had so long
enjoyed happiness and tranquillity.
Though Charles kept his ears open to all proposals, and expected to hold
the balance between the opposite parties, he entertained more hopes of
accommodation with the army. He had experienced the extreme rigor of the
parliament. They pretended totally to annihilate his authority: they
had confined his person. In both these particulars, the army showed more
indulgence.[*] He had a free intercourse with his friends. And, in the
proposals which the council of officers sent for the settlement of the
nation, they insisted neither on the abolition of Episcopacy, nor on the
punishment of the royalists; the two points to which the king had the
most extreme reluctance: and they demanded, that a period should be put
to the present parliament, the event for which he most ardently longed.
* Warwick, p. 303. Parl. Hist. vol. xvi. p. 40. Clarendon,
vol. *v p. 50.
His conjunction, too, seemed more natural with the generals, than with
that usurping assembly who had so long assumed the entire sovereignty
of the state, and who had declared their resolution still to continue
masters. By gratifying a few persons with titles and preferments, he
might draw over, he hoped, the whole military power, and in an instant
reinstate himself in his civil authority. To Ireton he offered the
lieutenancy of Ireland; to Cromwell the garter, the title of earl of
Essex, and the command of the army. Negotiations to this purpose were
secretly conducted. Cromwell pretended to hearken to them and was well
pleased to keep the door open for an accommodation, if the course of
events should at any time render it necessary. And the king, who had no
suspicion that one born a private gentleman could entertain the daring
ambition of seizing a sceptre, transmitted through a long line of
monarchs, indulged hopes that he would at last embrace a measure
which, by all the motives of duty, interest, and safety, seemed to be
recommended to him.
While Cromwell allured the king by these expectations, he still
continued his scheme of reducing the parliament to subjection, and
depriving them of all means of resistance. To gratify the army, the
parliament invested Fairfax with the title of general-in-chief of all
the forces in England and Ireland; and intrusted the whole military
authority to a person who, though well inclined to their service, was no
longer at his own disposal.
They voted, that the troops which, in obedience to them had enlisted for
Ireland, and deserted the rebellious army, should be disbanded, or, in
other words, be punished for their fidelity. The forces in the north,
under Pointz, had already mutinied against their general, and had
entered into an association with that body of the army which was
so successfully employed in exalting the military above the civil
authority.[*]
That no resource might remain to the parliament, it was demanded, that
the militia of London should be changed, the Presbyterian commissioners
displaced, and the command restored to those who, during the course of
the war, had constantly exercised it. The parliament even complied with
so violent a demand, and passed a vote in obedience to the army.[**]
By this unlimited patience, they purposed to temporize under their
present difficulties, and they hoped to find a more favorable
opportunity for recovering their authority and influence: but the
impatience of the city lost them all the advantage of their cautious
measures. A petition against the alteration of the militia was carried
to Westminster, attended by the apprentices and seditious multitude, who
besieged the door of the house of commons; and by their clamor, noise,
and violence, obliged them to reverse that vote which they had passed so
lately. When gratified in this pretension, they immediately dispersed,
and left the parliament at liberty.[***]
* Rush. vol. vii. p. 620.
** Rush. vol. vii. p. 629, 632.
*** Rush. vol. vii. p. 641, 643. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 61.
Whitlocke p. 269. Cl. Walker, p. 38
No sooner was intelligence of this tumult conveyed to Reading, than the
army was put in motion. The two houses being under restraint, they were
resolved, they said, to vindicate, against the seditious citizens, the
invaded privileges of parliament, and restore that assembly to its just
freedom of debate and counsel. In their way to London, they were drawn
up on Hounslow Heath; a formidable body, twenty thousand strong, and
determined, without regard to laws or liberty, to pursue whatever
measures their generals should dictate to them. Here the most favorable
event happened to quicken and encourage their advance. The speakers
of the two houses, Manchester and Lenthal, attended by eight peers and
about sixty commoners, having secretly retired from the city, presented
themselves with their maces, and all the ensigns of their dignity;
and complaining of the violence put upon them, applied to the army for
defence and protection. They were received with shouts and acclamations:
respect was paid to them, as to the parliament of England: and the
army, being provided with so plausible a pretence, which in all
public transactions is of great consequence, advanced to chastise the
rebellious city, and to reinstate the violated parliament.[*]
Neither Lenthal nor Manchester were esteemed Independents; and such a
step in them was unexpected. But they probably foresaw that the army
must in the end prevail; and they were willing to pay court in time to
that authority which began to predominate in the nation.
The parliament, forced from their temporizing measures, and obliged
to resign at once, or combat for their liberty and power, prepared
themselves with vigor for defence, and determined to resist the violence
of the army. The two houses immediately chose new speakers, Lord Hunsdon
and Henry Pelham: they renewed their former orders for enlisting troops:
they appointed Massey to be commander: they ordered the trained bands to
man the lines: and the whole city was in a ferment, and resounded with
military preparations.[**]
When any intelligence arrived, that the army stopped or retreated, the
shout of "One and all." ran with alacrity, from street to street, among
the citizens: when news came of their advancing, the cry of "Treat
and capitulate," was no less loud and vehement.[***] The terror of a
universal pillage, and even massacre, had seized the timid inhabitants.
* Rush. vol. viii. p. 750. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 63.
** Rush vol. vii. p. 646
*** Whitlocke, p. 266.
As the army approached, Rainsborow, being sent by the general over the
river, presented himself before Southwark, and was gladly received by
some soldiers who were quartered there for its defence, and who were
resolved not to separate their interests from those of the army. It
behoved then the parliament to submit. The army marched in triumph
through the city; but preserved the greatest order, decency, and
appearance of humility. They conducted to Westminster the two speakers,
who took their seats as if nothing had happened. The eleven impeached
members, being accused as authors of the tumult, were expelled; and most
of them retired beyond sea: seven peers were impeached; the mayor, one
sheriff, and three aldermen, sent to the Tower, several citizens
and officers of the militia committed to prison; every deed of the
parliament annulled, from the day of the tumult till the return of the
speakers; the lines about the city levelled; the militia restored to
the Independents; regiments quartered in Whitehall and the Mews; and
the parliament being reduced to a regular formed servitude, a day was
appointed of solemn thanksgiving for the restoration of its liberty.[*]
* Rush. vol. viii. p. 797, 798, etc.
The Independent party among the commons exulted in their victory. The
whole authority of the nation, they imagined, was now lodged in their
hands; and they had a near prospect of moulding the government into that
imaginary republic which had long been the object of their wishes. They
had secretly concurred in all encroachments of the military upon the
civil power; and they expected, by the terror of the sword, to impose a
more perfect system of liberty on the reluctant nation. All parties, the
king, the church, the parliament, the Presbyterians, had been guilty
of errors since the commencement of these disorders: but it must be
confessed, that this delusion of the Independents and republicans was,
of all others, the most contrary to common sense and the established
maxims of policy. Yet were the leaders of that party, Vane, Fiennes,
St. John, Martin, the men in England the most celebrated for profound
thought and deep contrivance; and by their well-colored pretences and
professions, they had overreached the whole nation. To deceive such men,
would argue a superlative capacity in Cromwell; were it not that besides
the great difference there is between dark, crooked counsels and true
wisdom, an exorbitant passion for rule and authority will make the most
prudent overlook the dangerous consequences of such measures as seem to
tend, in any degree, to their own advancement.
The leaders of the army, having established their dominion over the
parliament and city, ventured to bring the king to Hampton Court; and
he lived for some time in that palace, with an appearance of dignity and
freedom. Such equability of temper did he possess, that, during all the
variety of fortune which he underwent, no difference was perceived in
his countenance or behavior; and though a prisoner in the hands of his
most inveterate enemies, he supported, towards all who approached him,
the majesty of a monarch; and that neither with less nor greater state
than he had been accustomed to maintain. His manner, which was not
in itself popular nor gracious, now appeared amiable, from its great
meekness and equality.
The parliament renewed their applications to him, and presented him
with the same conditions which they had offered at Newcastle. The
king declined accepting them, and desired the parliament to take the
proposals of the army into consideration, and make them the foundation
of the public sentiment.[*] He still entertained hopes that his
negotiations with the generals would be crowned with success; though
every thing, in that particular, daily bore a worse aspect. Most
historians have thought that Cromwell never was sincere in his
professions; and that having by force rendered himself master of the
king's person, and by fair pretences acquired the countenance of the
royalists, he had employed these advantages to the enslaving of the
parliament; and afterwards thought of nothing but the establishment of
his own unlimited authority, with which he esteemed the restoration, and
even life, of the king altogether incompatible. This opinion, so much
warranted by the boundless ambition and profound dissimulation of his
character, meets with ready belief; though it is more agreeable to the
narrowness of human views, and the darkness of futurity, to suppose that
this daring usurper was guided by events, and did not as yet foresee,
with any assurance, that unparalleled greatness which he afterwards
attained. Many writers of that age have asserted,[**] [17]that he
really intended to make a private bargain with the king; a measure
which carried the most plausible appearance both for his safety and
advancement; but that he found insuperable difficulties in reconciling
to it the wild humors of the army.
* Rush. vol. viii. p. 810.
** See note Q, at the end of the volume.
The horror and antipathy of these fanatics had for many years been
artfully fomented against Charles; and though their principles were,
on all occasions, easily warped and eluded by private interest, yet
was some coloring requisite, and a flat contradiction to all former
professions and tenets could not safely be proposed to them. It is
certain, at least, that Cromwell made use of this reason why he admitted
rarely of visits from the king's friends, and showed less favor than
formerly to the royal cause. The agitators, he said, had rendered him
odious to the army, and had represented him as a traitor, who, for the
sake of private interest, was ready to betray the cause of God to the
great enemy of piety and religion. Desperate projects, too, he asserted
to be secretly formed for the murder of the king; and he pretended much
to dread lest all his authority, and that of the commanding officers,
would not be able to restrain these enthusiasts from their bloody
purposes.[*]
Intelligence being daily brought to the king of menaces thrown out by
the agitators, he began to think of retiring from Hampton Court, and of
putting himself in some place of safety. The guards were doubled upon
him; the promiscuous concourse of people restrained; a more jealous care
exerted in attending his person; all under color of protecting him
from danger, but really with a view of making him uneasy in his present
situation. These artifices soon produced the intended effect. Charles,
who was naturally apt to be swayed by counsel, and who had not then
access to any good counsel, took suddenly a resolution of withdrawing
himself, though without any concerted, at least, any rational scheme for
the future disposal of his person. Attended only by Sir John Berkeley,
Ashburnham, and Leg, he privately left Hampton court; and his escape
was not discovered till near an hour after; when those who entered his
chamber, found on the table some letters directed to the parliament, to
the general, and to the officer who had attended him.[**]
* Clarendon, vol. v. p. 76.
** Rush. vol. viii. p 871.
All night he travelled through the forest, and arrived next day at
Tichfield, a seat of the earl of Southampton's, where the countess
dowager resided, a woman of honor, to whom the king knew he might safely
intrust his person. Before he arrived at this place, he had gone to the
sea-coast; and expressed great anxiety that a ship which he seemed to
look for, had not arrived; and thence, Berkeley and Leg, who were not
in the secret, conjectured that his intention was to transport himself
beyond sea.
The king could not hope to remain long concealed at Tichfield: what
measure should next be embraced, was the question. In the neighborhood
lay the Isle of Wight, of which Hammond was governor. This man was
entirely dependent on Cromwell. At his recommendation, he had married
a daughter of the famous Hambden, who during his lifetime had been an
intimate friend of Cromwell's, and whose memory was ever respected
by him. These circumstances were very unfavorable: yet, because the
governor was nephew to Dr. Hammond, the king's favorite chaplain, and
had acquired a good character in the army, it was thought proper to
have recourse to him in the present exigence, when no other rational
expedient could be thought of. Ashburnham and Berkeley were despatched
to the island. They had orders not to inform Hammond of the place where
the king was concealed, till they had first obtained a promise from him
not to deliver up his majesty, though the parliament and the army should
require him; but to restore him to his liberty, if he could not protect
him. This promise, it is evident, would have been a very slender
security: yet, even without exacting it, Ashburnham imprudently, if not
treacherously, brought Hammond to Tichfield; and the king was obliged to
put himself in his hands, and to attend him to Carisbroke Castle, in
the Isle of Wight where, though received with great demonstrations of
respect and duty, he was in reality a prisoner.
[Illustration: 1-700-carisbrooke.jpg CARISBROKE CASTLE]
Lord Clarendon[*] is positive, that the king, when he fled from Hampton
Court, had no intention of going to this island; and indeed all
the circumstances of that historian's narrative, which we have here
followed, strongly favor this opinion. But there remains a letter of
Charles's to the earl of Laneric, secretary of Scotland, in which he
plainly intimates, that that measure was voluntarily embraced: and even
insinuates, that if he had thought proper, he might have been in Jersey,
or any other place of safety.[**] [18]
* Page 79, 80, etc.
** See note R, at the end of the volume.
Perhaps he still confided in the promises of the generals; and flattered
himself, that if he were removed from the fury of the agitators, by
which his life was immediately threatened, they would execute what they
had so often promised in his favor.
Whatever may be the truth in this matter,--for it is impossible fully
to ascertain the truth,--Charles never took a weaker step, nor one more
agreeable to Cromwell and all his enemies. He was now lodged in a place
removed from his partisans, at the disposal of the army, whence it
would be very difficult to deliver him, either by force or artifice. And
though it was always in the power of Cromwell, whenever he pleased, to
have sent him thither, yet such a measure, without the king's consent,
would have been very invidious, if not attended with some danger. That
the king should voluntarily throw himself into the snare, and thereby
gratify his implacable persecutors, was to them an incident peculiarly
fortunate, and proved in the issue very fatal to him.
Cromwell, being now entirely master of the parliament and free from all
anxiety with regard to the custody of the king's person, applied himself
seriously to quell those disorders in the army, which he himself had
so artfully raised, and so successfully employed, against both king and
parliament. In order to engage the troops into a rebellion against
their masters, he had encouraged an arrogant spirit among the inferior
officers and private men; and the camp, in many respects, carried more
the appearance of civil liberty than of military obedience. The troops
themselves were formed into a kind of republic; and the plans of
imaginary republics, for the settlement of the state, were every day
the topics of conversation among these armed legislators. Royalty it was
agreed to abolish: nobility must be set aside: even all ranks of men be
levelled; and a universal equality of property, as well as of power, be
introduced among the citizens. The saints, they said, were the salt of
the earth: an entire parity had place among the elect; and by the same
rule that the apostles were exalted from the most ignoble professions,
the meanest sentinel, if enlightened by the Spirit, was entitled to
equal regard with the greatest commander. In order to wean the
soldiers from these, licentious maxims, Cromwell had issued orders for
discontinuing the meetings of the agitators; and he pretended to pay
entire obedience to the parliament, whom being now fully reduced to
subjection, he purposed to make for the future, the instruments of his
authority. But the "levellers,"--for so that party in the army was
called,--having experienced the sweets of dominion, would not so
easily be deprived of it. They secretly continued their meetings: they
asserted, that their officers, as much as any part of the church
or state, needed reformation: several regiments joined in seditious
remonstrances and petitions:[*] separate rendezvouses were concerted;
and every thing tended to anarchy and confusion. But this distemper was
soon cured by the rough but dexterous hand of Cromwell. He chose the
opportunity of a review, that he might display the greater boldness,
and spread the terror the wider. He seized the ringleaders before
their companions; held in the field a council of war; shot one mutineer
instantly; and struck such dread into the rest, that they presently
threw down the symbols of sedition, which they had displayed, and
thenceforth returned to their wonted discipline and obedience.[**]
Cromwell had great deference for the counsels of Ireton, a man who,
having grafted the soldier on the lawyer the statesman on the saint,
had adopted such principles as were fitted to introduce the severest
tyranny, while they seemed to encourage the most unbounded license in
human society. Fierce in his nature, though probably sincere in his
intentions, he purposed by arbitrary power to establish liberty, and,
in prosecution of his imagined religious purposes, he thought himself
dispensed from all the ordinary rules of morality, by which inferior
mortals must allow themselves to be governed. From his suggestion,
Cromwell secretly called at Windsor a council of the chief officers,
in order to deliberate concerning the settlement of the nation, and the
future disposal of the king's person.[***]
* Rush. vol. viii. p. 845, 859.
** Rush. vol. viii. p. 875. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 87.
*** Clarendon, vol. v. p. 92.
In this conference, which commenced with devout prayers, poured forth by
Cromwell himself and other inspired persons, (for the officers of this
army received inspiration with their commission,) was first opened the
daring and unheard-of counsel, of bringing the king to justice, and of
punishing, by a judicial sentence, their sovereign, for his pretended
tyranny and maleadministration. While Charles lived, even though
restrained to the closest prison, conspiracies, they knew, and
insurrections would never be wanting in favor of a prince who was so
extremely revered and beloved by his own party, and whom the nation in
general began to regard with great affection and compassion. To murder
him privately was exposed to the imputation of injustice and cruelty,
aggravated by the baseness of such a crime; and every odious epithet
of "traitor" and "assassin" would, by the general voice of mankind, be
indisputably ascribed to the actors in such a villany. Some unexpected
procedure must be attempted, which would astonish the world by its
novelty, would bear the semblance of justice, and would cover its
barbarity by the audaciousness of the enterprise. Striking in with the
fanatical notions of the entire equality of mankind, it would insure the
devoted obedience of the army, and serve as a general engagement against
the royal family, whom, by their open and united deed, they would so
heinously affront and injure.[*]
This measure, therefore, being secretly resolved on, it was requisite,
by degrees, to make the parliament adopt it, and to conduct them from
violence to violence, till this last act of atrocious iniquity should
seem in a manner wholly inevitable. The king, in order to remove those
fears and jealousies, which were perpetually pleaded as reasons for
every invasion of the constitution, had offered, by a message sent from
Carisbroke Castle, to resign, during his own life, the power of the
militia and the nomination to all the great offices; provided that,
after his demise, these prerogatives should revert to the crown.[**] But
the parliament acted entirely as victors and enemies; and, in all their
transactions with him, paid no longer any regard to equity or reason. At
the instigation of the Independents and army, they neglected this offer,
and framed four proposals, which they sent him as preliminaries; and
before they would deign to treat, they demanded his positive assent to
all of them.
* The following was a favorite text among the enthusiasts of
that age: "Let the high praises of God be in the mouths of
his saints, and a twofold sword in their hands, to execute
vengeance upon the heathen and punishment upon the people;
to bind their kings with chains and their nobles with
fetters of iron; to execute upon them the judgments written:
This honor have all his saints." Psalm cxlix, ver. 6, 7, 8,
9. Hugh Peters, the mad chaplain of Cromwell, preached
frequently upon this text.
** Rush. vol. viii. p 880.
By one, he was required to invest the parliament with the military power
for twenty years, together with an authority to levy whatever money
should be necessary for exercising it; and even after the twenty years
should be elapsed, they reserved a right of resuming the same authority,
whenever they should declare the safety of the kingdom to require it.
By the second, he was to recall all his proclamations and declarations
against the parliament, and acknowledge that assembly to have taken arms
in their just and necessary defence. By the third, he was to annul all
the acts, and void all the patents of peerage, which had passed
the great seal since it had been carried from London by Lord Keeper
Littleton; and at the same time, renounce for the future the power of
making peers without consent of parliament. By the fourth, he gave the
two houses power to adjourn as they thought proper; a demand seemingly
of no great importance, but contrived by the Independents, that they
might be able to remove the parliament to places where it should remain
in perpetual subjection to the army.[*]
{1648.} The king regarded the pretension as unusual and exorbitant, that
he should make such concessions, while not secure of any settlement;
and should blindly trust his enemies for the conditions which they were
afterwards to grant him. He required, therefore, a personal treaty with
the parliament, and desired that all the terms on both sides should be
adjusted, before any concession on either side should be insisted on.
The republican party in the house pretended to take fire at this
answer; and openly inveighed, in violent terms, against the person
and government of the king; whose name, hitherto, had commonly, in all
debates, been mentioned with some degree of reverence. Ireton, seeming
to speak the sense of the army, under the appellation of many thousand
godly men, who had ventured their lives in defence of the parliament,
said, that the king, by denying the four bills, had refused safety
and protection to his people; that their obedience to him was but a
reciprocal duty for his protection of them; and that, as he had failed
on his part, they were freed from all obligations to allegiance, and
must settle the nation, without consulting any longer so misguided a
prince.[**]
* Clarendon, vol. v. p. 88
** Cl. Walker, p. 70.
Cromwell, after giving an ample character of the valor, good affections,
and godliness of the army, subjoined, that it was expected the
parliament should guide and defend the kingdom by their own power and
resolutions, and not accustom the people any longer to expect safety
and government from an obstinate man, whose heart God had hardened;
that those who, at the expense of their blood, had hitherto defended the
parliament from so many dangers, would still continue, with fidelity
and courage, to protect them against all opposition in this vigorous
measure. "Teach them not," added he, "by your neglecting your own safety
and that of the kingdom, (in which theirs too is involved,) to imagine
themselves betrayed, and their interests abandoned to the rage and
malice of an irreconcilable enemy, whom, for your sake, they have dared
to provoke. Beware," and at these words he laid his hand on his sword,
"beware, lest despair cause them to seek safety by some other means than
by adhering to you, who know not how to consult your own safety."[*]
Such arguments prevailed; though ninety-one members had still the
courage to oppose. It was voted, that no more addresses be made to the
king, nor any letters or messages be received from him; and that it
be treason for any one, without leave of the two houses, to have any
intercourse with him. The lords concurred in the same ordinance.[**]
By this vote of non-addresses,--so it was called,--the king was in
reality dethroned, and the whole constitution formally overthrown. So
violent a measure was supported by a declaration of the commons no less
violent. The blackest calumnies were there thrown upon the king; such
as, even in their famous remonstrance, they thought proper to omit, as
incredible and extravagant: the poisoning of his father, the betraying
of Rochelle, the contriving of the Irish massacre.[***] By blasting his
fame, had that injury been in their power, they formed a very proper
prelude to the executing of violence on his person.
No sooner had the king refused his assent to the four bills, than
Hammond, by orders from the army, removed all his servants, cut off his
correspondence with his friends, and shut him up in close confinement.
The king afterwards showed to Sir Philip Warwick a decrepit old man,
who, he said, was employed to kindle his fire, and was the best
company he enjoyed during several months that this rigorous confinement
lasted.[****]
* Cl. Walker, p. 70.
** Rush. vol. viii. p. 965, 967.
*** Rush. vol. viii. p. 998. Clarendon, vol. v. p. 93.
**** Warwick, p. 329.
No amusement was allowed him, nor society, which might relieve his
anxious thoughts: to be speedily poisoned or assassinated was the only
prospect which he had every moment before his eyes; for he entertained
no apprehension of a judicial sentence and execution; an event of which
no history hitherto furnished an example. Meanwhile, the parliament
was very industrious in publishing, from time to time, the intelligence
which they received from Hammond; how cheerful the king was, how
pleased with every one that approached him, how satisfied in his present
condition:[*] as if the view of such benignity and constancy had not
been more proper to inflame than allay the general compassion of the
people.
* Rush, vol. viii. p. 989.
The great source whence the king derived consolation amidst all his
calamities, was undoubtedly religion; a principle which, in him, seems
to have contained nothing fierce or gloomy, nothing which enraged him
against his adversaries, or terrified him with the dismal prospect of
futurity. While every thing around him bore a hostile aspect; while
friends, family, relations, whom he passionately loved, were placed at a
distance, and unable to serve him, he reposed himself with confidence in
the arms of that Being who penetrates and sustains all nature, and whose
severities, if received with piety and resignation, he regarded as the
surest pledges of unexhausted favor.
The parliament and army, meanwhile, enjoyed not in tranquillity that
power which they had obtained with so much violence and injustice.
Combinations and conspiracies, they were sensible, were every where
forming around them; and Scotland, whence the king's cause had
received the first fatal disaster, seemed now to promise it support and
assistance.
Before the surrender of the king's person at Newcastle, and much more
since that event, the subjects of discontent had been daily multiplying
between the two kingdoms. The Independents, who began to prevail, took
all occasions of mortifying the Scots, whom the Presbyterians looked
on with the greatest affection and veneration. When the Scottish
commissioners, who, joined to a committee of English lords and commons,
had managed the war, were ready to depart, it was proposed in parliament
to give them thanks for their civilities and good offices. The
Independents insisted, that the words "good offices" should be struck
out; and thus the whole brotherly friendship and intimate alliance
with the Scots resolved itself into an acknowledgment of their being
well-bred gentlemen.
The advance of the army to London, the subjection of the parliament, the
seizing of the king at Holdenby, his confinement in Carisbroke Castle,
were so many blows sensibly felt by that nation, as threatening the
final overthrow of Presbytery, to which they were so passionately
devoted. The covenant was profanely called, in the house of commons
an almanac out of date;[*] and that impiety, though complained of, had
passed uncensured. Instead of being able to determine and establish
orthodoxy by the sword and by penal statutes, they saw the sectarian
army, who were absolute masters, claim an unbounded liberty of
conscience, which the Presbyterians regarded with the utmost abhorrence.
All the violences put on the king, they loudly blamed, as repugnant to
the covenant by which they stood engaged to defend his royal person.
And those very actions of which they themselves had been guilty, they
denominated treason and rebellion, when executed by an opposite party.
The earls of Loudon, Lauderdale, and Laneric, who were sent to London,
protested against the four bills, as containing too great a diminution
of the king's civil power, and providing no security for religion. They
complained that, notwithstanding this protestation, the bills were still
insisted on, contrary to the solemn league, and to the treaty between
the two nations. And when they accompanied the English commissioners
to the Isle of Wight, they secretly formed a treaty with the king for
arming Scotland in his favor.[**]
* Cl. Walker, p. 80.
** Clarendon, vol. v. p. 101.
Three parties at that time prevailed in Scotland: the "royalists,"
who insisted upon the restoration of the king's authority, without any
regard to religion sects or tenets: of these, Montrose, though absent,
was regarded as the head. The "rigid Presbyterians," who hated the king
even more than they abhorred toleration; and who determined to give
him no assistance, till he should subscribe the covenant: these were
governed by Argyle. The "moderate Presbyterians," who endeavored to
reconcile the interests of religion and of the crown; and hoped, by
supporting the Presbyterian party in England, to suppress the sectarian
army, and to reinstate the parliament, as well as the king, in their
just freedom and authority: the two brothers, Hamilton and Laneric, were
leaders of this party.