THE COMMONWEALTH.
CONTEMPORARY MONARCHS.
EMP of GERM. K. OF FRANCE. K. or SPAIN.
Ferdinand III 1658 Lewis XIII. Philip IV.
{1649.} The confusions which overspread England after the murder
of Charles I., proceeded as well from the spirit of refinement and
innovation which agitated the ruling party, as from the dissolution of
all that authority, both civil and ecclesiastical, by which the nation
had ever been accustomed to be governed. Every man had framed the model
of a republic; and, however new it was, or fantastical, he was eager
in recommending it to his fellow-citizens, or even imposing it by force
upon them. Every man had adjusted a system of religion, which, being
derived from no traditional authority, was peculiar to himself; and
being founded on supposed inspiration, not on any principles of human
reason, had no means, besides cant and low rhetoric, by which it
could recommend itself to others. The levellers insisted on an equal
distribution of power and property, and disclaimed all dependence and
subordination. The Millenarians, or Fifth Monarchy men, required, that
government itself should be abolished, and all human powers be laid in
the dust, in order to pave the way for the dominion of Christ, whose
second coming they suddenly expected. The Antinomians even insisted,
that the obligations of morality and natural law were suspended, and
that the elect, guided by an internal principle more perfect and divine,
were superior to the beggarly elements of justice and humanity. A
considerable party declaimed against tithes and a hireling priesthood,
and were resolved that the magistrate should not support by power
or revenue any ecclesiastical establishment. Another party inveighed
against the law and its professors; and, on pretence of rendering more
simple the distribution of justice, were desirous of abolishing the
whole system of English jurisprudence, which seemed interwoven with
monarchical government. Even those among the republicans who adopted not
such extravagancies, were so intoxicated with their saintly character,
that they supposed themselves possessed of peculiar privileges; and all
professions, oaths, laws, and engagements, had, in a great measure,
lost their influence over them. The bands of society were every
where loosened; and the irregular passions of men were encouraged by
speculative principles, still more unsocial and irregular.
The royalists, consisting of the nobles and more considerable gentry,
being degraded from their authority and plundered of their property,
were inflamed with the highest resentment and indignation against
those ignoble adversaries who had reduced them to subjection. The
Presbyterians, whose credit had first supported the arms of the
parliament, were enraged to find that, by the treachery or superior
cunning of then associates, the fruits of all their successful labors
were ravished from them. The former party, from inclination and
principle, zealously attached themselves to the son of their unfortunate
monarch, whose memory they respected, and whose tragical death they
deplored. The latter cast their eye towards the same object; but they
had still many prejudices to overcome, many fears and jealousies to be
allayed, ere they could cordially entertain thoughts of restoring the
family which they had so grievously offended, and whose principles they
regarded with such violent abhorrence.
The only solid support of the republican independent faction, which,
though it formed so small a part of the nation, had violently usurped
the government of the whole, was a numerous army of near fifty thousand
men. But this army, formidable from its discipline and courage, as well
as its numbers, was actuated by a spirit that rendered it dangerous
to the assembly which had assumed the command over it. Accustomed
to indulge every chimera in politics, every frenzy in religion, the
soldiers knew little of the subordination of citizens, and had only
learned, from apparent necessity, some maxims of military obedience. And
while they still maintained, that all those enormous violations of law
and equity, of which they had been guilty, were justified by the success
with which providence had blessed them; they were ready to break out
into any new disorder, wherever they had the prospect of a like sanction
and authority.
What alone gave some stability to all these unsettled humors was the
great influence, both civil and military, acquired by Oliver Cromwell.
This man, suited to the age in which he lived, and to that alone, was
equally qualified to gain the affection and confidence of men, by what
was mean, vulgar, and ridiculous in his character, as to command their
obedience by what was great, daring, and enterprising. Familiar even
to buffoonery with the meanest sentinel, he never lost his authority:
transported to a degree of madness with religious ecstasies, he never
forgot the political purposes to which they might serve. Hating monarchy
while a subject, despising liberty while a citizen, though he
retained for a time all orders of men under a seeming obedience to the
parliament, he was secretly paving the way, by artifice and courage, to
his own unlimited authority.
The parliament,--for so we must henceforth call a small and
inconsiderable part of the house of commons,--having murdered their
sovereign with so many appearing circumstances of solemnity and justice,
and so much real violence, and even fury, began to assume more the air
of a civil legal power, and to enlarge a little the narrow bottom
upon which they stood. They admitted a few of the excluded and absent
members, such as were liable to least exception; but on condition that
these members should sign an approbation of whatever had been done in
their absence with regard to the king's trial; and some of them were
willing to acquire a share of power on such terms: the greater part
disdained to lend their authority to such apparent usurpations. They
issued some writs for new elections, in places where they hoped to have
interest enough to bring in their own friends and dependents. They named
a council of state, thirty-eight in number, to whom all addresses were
made, who gave orders to all generals and admirals, who executed the
laws, and who digested all business before it was introduced into
parliament.[*] They pretended to employ themselves entirely in adjusting
the laws, forms, and plan of a new representative; and as soon as
they should have settled the nation, they professed their intention of
restoring the power to the people, from whom they acknowledged they had
entirely derived it.
* Their names were, the earls of Denbigh, Mulgrave,
Pembroke, Salisbury, Lords Grey and Fairfax, Lisle, Rolles,
St. John, Wilde, Bradshaw, Cromwell, Skippon, Pickering,
Massam, Haselrig, Harrington, Vane, Jun., Danvers, Armine,
Mildmay, Constable, Pennington, Wilson, Whitlocke, Martin,
Ludlow, Stapleton, Hevingham, Wallop, Hutchinson, Bond,
Popham, Valentine, Walton, Scott, Purefoy, Jones.
The commonwealth found every thing in England composed into a seeming
tranquillity by the terror of their arms. Foreign powers, occupied in
wars among themselves, had no leisure or inclination to interpose in the
domestic dissensions of this island. The young king, poor and neglected,
living sometimes in Holland, sometimes in France, sometimes in Jersey,
comforted himself amidst his present distresses with the hopes of better
fortune. The situation alone of Scotland and Ireland gave any immediate
inquietude to the new republic.
After the successive defeats of Montrose and Hamilton, and the ruin of
their parties, the whole authority in Scotland fell into the hands of
Argyle and the rigid churchmen, that party which was most averse to
the interests of the royal family. Their enmity, however, against
the Independents, who had prevented the settlement of Presbyterian
discipline in England, carried them to embrace opposite maxims in their
political conduct. Though invited by the English parliament to model
their government into a republican form, they resolved still to adhere
to monarchy, which had ever prevailed in their country, and which, by
the express terms of their covenant they had engaged to defend. They
considered, besides, that as the property of the kingdom lay mostly in
the hands of great families, it would be difficult to establish a common
wealth; or without some chief magistrate, invested with royal authority,
to preserve peace or justice in the community. The execution, therefore,
of the king, against which they had always protested, having occasioned
a vacancy of the throne, they immediately proclaimed his son and
successor, Charles II.; but upon condition "of his good behavior, and
strict observance of the covenant, and his entertaining no other persons
about him but such as were godly men, and faithful to that obligation."
These unusual clauses, inserted in the very first acknowledgment of
their prince, sufficiently showed their intention of limiting extremely
his authority. And the English commonwealth, having no pretence to
interpose in the affairs of that kingdom, allowed the Scots, for the
present, to take their own measures in settling their government.
The dominion which England claimed over Ireland, demanded more
immediately their efforts for subduing that country. In order to convey
a just notion of Irish affairs, it will be necessary to look backwards
some years, and to relate briefly those transactions which had passed
during the memorable revolutions in England. When the late king agreed
to that cessation of arms with the Popish rebels,[*] which was become
so requisite, as well for the security of the Irish Protestants as for
promoting his interests in England, the parliament, in order to blacken
his conduct, reproached him with favoring that odious rebellion, and
exclaimed loudly against the terms of the cessation. They even went so
far as to declare it entirely null and invalid, because finished without
their consent; and in this declaration the Scots in Ulster, and the earl
of Inchiquin, a nobleman of great authority in Munster, professed
to adhere. By their means the war was still kept alive; but as the
dangerous distractions in England hindered the parliament from sending
any considerable assistance to their allies in Ireland, the marquis of
Ormond, lord lieutenant, being a native of Ireland, and a person endowed
with great prudence and virtue, formed a scheme for composing the
disorders of his country, and for engaging the rebel Irish to support
the cause of his royal master. There were many circumstances which
strongly invited the natives of Ireland to embrace the king's party. The
maxims of that prince had always led him to give a reasonable indulgence
to the Catholics throughout all his dominions; and one principal ground
of that enmity which the Puritans professed against him, was this tacit
toleration. The parliament, on the contrary, even when unprovoked, had
ever menaced the Papists with the most rigid restraint, if not a
total extirpation; and immediately after the commencement of the Irish
rebellion, they put to sale all the estates of the rebels, and had
engaged the public faith for transferring them to the adventurers, who
had already advanced money upon that security. The success, therefore,
which the arms of the parliament met with at Naseby, struck a just
terror into the Irish; and engaged the council of Kilkenny, composed of
deputies from all the Catholic counties and cities, to conclude a peace
with the marquis of Ormond.[**]
* 1643.
** 1646.
They professed to return to their duty and allegiance, engaged to
furnish ten thousand men for the support of the king's authority in
England, and were content with stipulating, in return, indemnity for
their rebellion, and toleration of their religion. Ormond, not doubting
but a peace, so advantageous and even necessary to the Irish, would be
strictly observed, advanced with a small body of troops to Kilkenny, in
order to concert measures for common defence with his new allies. The
pope had sent over to Ireland a nuncio, Rinuccini, an Italian; and this
man, whose commission empowered him to direct the spiritual concerns of
the Irish, was emboldened, by their ignorance and bigotry, to assume
the chief authority in the civil government. Foreseeing that a general
submission to the lord lieutenant would put an end to his own influence,
he conspired with Owen O'Neal, who commanded the native Irish, in
Ulster, and who bore a great jealousy to Preston, the general chiefly
trusted by the council of Kilkenny. By concert, these two malecontents
secretly drew forces together, and were ready to fall on Ormond, who
remained in security, trusting to the pacification so lately concluded
with the rebels. He received intelligence of their treachery, made
his retreat with celerity and conduct, and sheltered his small army in
Dublin and the other fortified towns, which still remained in the hands
of the Protestants.
The nuncio, full of arrogance, levity, and ambition, was not contented
with this violation of treaty. He summoned an assembly of the clergy at
Waterford, and engaged them to declare against that pacification which
the civil council had concluded with their sovereign. He even thundered
out a sentence of excommunication against all who should adhere to a
peace so prejudicial, as he pretended, to the Catholic religion; and the
deluded Irish, terrified with his spiritual menaces, ranged themselves
every where on his side, and submitted to his authority. Without
scruple, he carried on war against the lord lieutenant, and threatened
with a siege the Protestant garrisons, which were all of them very ill
provided for defence.
Meanwhile, the unfortunate king was necessitated to take shelter in
the Scottish army; and being there reduced to close confinement,
and secluded from all commerce with his friends, despaired that his
authority, or even his liberty, would ever be restored to him. He sent
orders to Ormond, if he could not defend himself, rather to submit
to the English than to the Irish rebels; and accordingly the lord
lieutenant, being reduced to extremities, delivered up Dublin, Tredah,
Dundalk, and other garrisons, to Colonel Michael Jones, who took
possession of them in the name of the English parliament. Ormond himself
went over to England, was admitted into the king's presence, received
a grateful acknowledgment for his past services, and during some time
lived in tranquillity near London. But being banished, with the other
royalists, to a distance from that city, and seeing every event turn out
unfortunately for his royal master, and threaten him with a catastrophe
still more direful, he thought proper to retire into France, where he
joined the queen and the prince of Wales.
In Ireland, during these transactions, the authority of the nuncio
prevailed without control among all the Catholics; and that prelate, by
his indiscretion and insolence, soon made them repent of the power with
which they had intrusted him. Prudent men likewise were sensible of the
total destruction which was hanging over the nation from the English
parliament, and saw no resource or safety but in giving support to the
declining authority of the king. The earl of Clanricarde, a nobleman
of an ancient family, a person too of merit, who had ever preserved his
loyalty, was sensible of the ruin which threatened his countrymen,
and was resolved, if possible, to prevent it. He secretly formed a
combination among the Catholics; he entered into a correspondence
with Inchiquin, who preserved great authority over the Protestants in
Munster; he attacked the nuncio, whom he chased out of the island; and
he sent to Paris a deputation, inviting the lord lieutenant to return
and take possession of his government.
Ormond, on his arrival in Ireland, found the kingdom divided into many
factions, among which either open war or secret enmity prevailed. The
authority of the English parliament was established in Dublin, and the
other towns which he himself had delivered into their hands. O'Neal
maintained his credit in Ulster; and having entered into a secret
correspondence with the parliamentary generals, was more intent on
schemes for his own personal safety, than anxious for the preservation
of his country or religion. The other Irish, divided between their
clergy, who were averse to Ormond, and their nobility, who were attached
to him, were very uncertain in their motions and feeble in their
measures. The Scots in the north, enraged, as well as their other
countrymen, against the usurpations of the sectarian army, professed
their adherence to the king; but were still hindered by many prejudices
from entering into a cordial union with his lieutenant. All these
distracted councils and contrary humors checked the progress of Ormond,
and enabled the parliamentary forces in Ireland to maintain their ground
against him. The republican faction, meanwhile, in England, employed
in subduing the revolted royalists, in reducing the parliament
to subjection, in the trial, condemnation, and execution of their
sovereign, totally neglected the supplying of Ireland, and allowed Jones
and the forces in Dublin to remain in the utmost weakness and necessity.
The lord lieutenant, though surrounded with difficulties, neglected not
the favorable opportunity of promoting the royal cause. Having at
last assembled an army of sixteen thousand men, he advanced upon the
parliamentary garrisons. Dundalk, where Monk commanded, was delivered up
by the troops, who mutinied against their governor. Tredah, Neury, and
other forts, were taken. Dublin was threatened with a siege; and the
affairs of the lieutenant appeared in so prosperous a condition, that
the young king entertained thoughts of coming in person into Ireland.
When the English commonwealth was brought to some tolerable settlement,
men began to cast their eyes towards the neighboring island. During the
contest of the two parties, the government of Ireland had remained a
great object of intrigue; and the Presbyterians endeavored to obtain
the lieutenancy for Waller, the Independents for Lambert. After the
execution of the king, Cromwell himself began to aspire to a command,
where so much glory, he saw, might be won, and so much authority
acquired. In his absence, he took care to have his name proposed to the
council of state; and both friends and enemies concurred immediately
to vote him into that important office: the former suspected, that
the matter had not been proposed merely by chance, without his own
concurrence; the latter desired to remove him to a distance, and hoped,
during his absence, to gain the ascendant over Fairfax, whom he had so
long blinded by his hypocritical professions. Cromwell himself, when
informed of his election, feigned surprise, and pretended at first to
hesitate with regard to the acceptance of the command. And Lambert,
either deceived by his dissimulation, or, in his turn, feigning to
be deceived, still continued, notwithstanding this disappointment his
friendship and connections with Cromwell.
The new lieutenant immediately applied himself with his wonted vigilance
to make preparations for his expedition. Many disorders in England it
behoved him previously to compose. All places were full of danger and
inquietude. Though men, astonished with the successes of the army,
remained in seeming tranquillity, symptoms of the greatest discontent
every where appeared. The English, long accustomed to a mild
administration, and unacquainted with dissimulation, could not conform
their speech and countenance to the present necessity, or pretend
attachment to a form of government which they generally regarded with
such violent abhorrence. It was requisite to change the magistracy of
London, and to degrade, as well as punish, the mayor and some of the
aldermen, before the proclamation for the abolition of monarchy could
be published in the city. An engagement being framed to support the
commonwealth without king or house of peers, the army was with some
difficulty brought to subscribe it; but though it was imposed upon the
rest of the nation under severe penalties, no less than putting all
who refused out of the protection of law, such obstinate reluctance was
observed in the people, that even the imperious parliament was obliged
to desist from it. The spirit of fanaticism, by which that assembly had
at first been strongly supported, was now turned, in a great measure,
against them. The pulpits, being chiefly filled with Presbyterians
or disguised royalists, and having long been the scene of news and
politics, could by no penalties be restrained from declarations
unfavorable to the established government. Numberless were the
extravagancies which broke out among the people. Everard, a disbanded
soldier, having preached that the time was now come when the community
of goods would be renewed among Christians, led out his followers to
take possession of the land; and being carried before the general, he
refused to salute him, because he was but his fellow-creature.[*]
What seemed more dangerous, the army itself was infected with like
humors.[**] [21]
* Whitlocke.
** See note U, at the end of the volume.
Though the levellers had for a time been suppressed by the audacious
spirit of Cromwell, they still continued to propagate their doctrines
among the private men and inferior officers, who pretended a right to
be consulted, as before, in the administration of the commonwealth. They
now practised against their officers the same lesson which they had been
taught against the parliament. They framed a remonstrance, and sent five
agitators to present it to the general and council of war: these were
cashiered with ignominy by sentence of a court martial. One Lockier,
having carried his sedition further, was sentenced to death; but this
punishment was so far from quelling the mutinous spirit, that above a
thousand of his companions showed their adherence to him, by attending
his funeral, and wearing in their hats black and sea-green ribbons
by way of favors. About four thousand assembled at Burford, under the
command of Thomson, a man formerly condemned for sedition by a court
martial, but pardoned by the general. Colonel Reynolds, and afterwards
Fairfax and Cromwell, fell upon them, while unprepared for defence,
and seduced by the appearance of a treaty. Four hundred were taken
prisoners; some of them capitally punished, the rest pardoned. And this
tumultuous spirit, though it still lurked in the army, and broke, out
from time to time, seemed for the present to be suppressed.
Petitions, framed in the same spirit of opposition, were presented
to the parliament by Lieutenant-Colonel Lilburn, the person who,
for dispersing seditious libels, had formerly been treated with such
severity by the star chamber. His liberty was at this time as ill
relished by the parliament; and he was thrown into prison, as a promoter
of sedition and disorder in the commonwealth. The women applied by
petition for his release; but were now desired to mind their household
affairs, and leave the government of the state to the men. From all
quarters the parliament was harassed with petitions of a very free
nature, which strongly spoke the sense of the nation, and proved how
ardently all men longed for the restoration of their laws and liberties.
Even in a feast which the city gave to the parliament and council of
state, it was deemed a requisite precaution, if we may credit Walker
and Dugdale, to swear all the cooks, that they would serve nothing but
wholesome food to them.
The parliament judged it necessary to enlarge the laws of high treason
beyond those narrow bounds within which they had been confined during
the monarchy. They even comprehended verbal offences, nay, intentions,
though they had never appeared in any overt act against the state. To
affirm the present government to be a usurpation, to assert that the
parliament or council of state were tyrannical or illegal, to endeavor
subverting their authority, or stirring up sedition against them: these
offences were declared to be high treason. The power of imprisonment,
of which the petition of right had bereaved the king, it was now found
necessary to restore to the council of state; and all the jails in
England were filled with men whom the jealousies and fears of the ruling
party had represented as dangerous.[*] The taxes continued by the new
government, and which, being unusual, were esteemed heavy, increased the
general ill will under which it labored. Besides the customs and excise,
ninety thousand pounds a month were levied on land for the subsistence
of the army. The sequestrations and compositions of the royalists, the
sale of the crown lands, and of the dean and chapter lands, though they
yielded great sums, were not sufficient to support the vast expenses,
and, as was suspected, the great depredations, of the parliament and of
their creatures.[*]
* History of Independency, part ii.
** Parl. History, vol. xix. p. 136, 176.
Amidst all these difficulties and disturbances, the steady mind of
Cromwell, without confusion or embarrassment, still pursued its purpose.
While he was collecting an army of twelve thousand men in the west
of England, he sent to Ireland, under Reynolds and Venables, a
reënforcement of four thousand horse and foot, in order to strengthen
Jones, and enable him to defend himself against the marquis of Ormond,
who lay at Finglass, and was making preparations for the attack of
Dublin. Inchiquin, who had now made a treaty with the king's lieutenant,
having, with a separate body, taken Tredah and Dundalk, gave a defeat
to Offarrell, who served under O'Neal, and to young Coot, who commanded
some parliamentary forces. After he had joined his troops to the main
army, with whom for some time he remained united, Ormond passed the
River Liffy, and took post at Rathmines, two miles from Dublin, with
a view of commencing the siege of that city. In order to cut off all
further supply from Jones, he had begun the reparation of an old fort
which lay at the gates of Dublin; and being exhausted with continual
fatigue for some days, he had retired to rest, after leaving orders to
keep his forces under arms. He was suddenly awaked with the noise of
firing; and starting from his bed, saw every thing already in tumult and
confusion. Jones, an excellent officer, formerly a lawyer, had sallied
out with the reënforcement newly arrived; and attacking the party
employed in repairing the fort, he totally routed them, pursued the
advantage, and fell in with the army, which had neglected Ormond's
orders. These he soon threw into disorder; put them to flight, in spite
of all the efforts of the lord lieutenant; chased them off the field;
seized all their tents, baggage, ammunition; and returned victorious
to Dublin, after killing a thousand men, and taking above two thousand
prisoners.[*]
* Parl. Hist. vol. xix. p. 165.
This loss, which threw some blemish on the military character of Ormond,
was irreparable to the royal cause. That numerous army, which, with so
much pains and difficulty, the lord lieutenant had been collecting for
more than a year, was dispersed in a moment. Cromwell soon after arrived
in Dublin, where he was welcomed with shouts and rejoicings. He hastened
to Tredah. That town was well fortified: Ormond had thrown into it a
good garrison of three thousand men, under Sir Arthur Aston, an officer
of reputation. He expected that Tredah, lying in the neighborhood of
Dublin, would first be attempted by Cromwell, and he was desirous to
employ the enemy some time in that siege, while he himself should repair
his broken forces. But Cromwell knew the importance of despatch. Having
made a breach, he ordered a general assault. Though twice repulsed with
loss, he renewed the attack, and himself, along with Ireton, led on his
men. All opposition was overborne by the furious valor of the troops.
The town was taken sword in hand; and orders being issued to give no
quarter, a cruel slaughter was made of the garrison. Even a few, who
were saved by the soldiers, satiated with blood, were next day miserably
butchered by orders from the general. One person alone of the garrison
escaped to be a messenger of this universal havoc and destruction.
Cromwell pretended to retaliate by this severe execution the cruelty of
the Irish massacre: but he well knew, that almost the whole garrison
was English; and his justice was only a barbarous policy, in order to
terrify all other garrisons from resistance. His policy, however, had
the desired effect. Having led the army without delay to Wexford, he
began to batter the town. The garrison, after a slight defence, offered
to capitulate; but before they obtained a cessation, they imprudently
neglected their guards; and the English army rushed in upon them. The
same severity was exercised as at Tredah.
Every town before which Cromwell presented himself, now opened its gates
without resistance. Ross, though strongly garrisoned, was surrendered
by Lord Taffe. Having taken Estionage, Cromwell threw a bridge over the
Barrow, and made himself master of Passage and Carrie. The English had
no further difficulties to encounter than what arose from fatigue and
the advanced season. Fluxes and contagious distempers crept in among
the soldiers, who perished in great numbers. Jones himself, the brave
governor of Dublin, died at Wexford. And Cromwell had so far advanced
with his decayed army, that he began to find it difficult, either to
subsist in the enemy's country, or retreat to his own garrisons. But
while he was in these straits, Corke, Kinsale, and all the English
garrisons in Munster deserted to him, and opening their gates, resolved
to share the fortunes of their victorious countrymen.
This desertion of the English put an end to Ormond's authority, which
was already much diminished by the misfortunes at Dublin, Tredah, and
Wexford. The Irish, actuated by national and religious prejudices, could
no longer be kept in obedience by a Protestant governor, who was
so unsuccessful in all his enterprises. The clergy renewed their
excommunications against him and his adherents, and added the terrors
of superstition to those which arose from a victorious enemy. Cromwell,
having received a reënforcement from England, again took the field early
in the spring. He made himself master of Kilkenny and Clonmel, the only
places where he met with any vigorous resistance. The whole frame of
the Irish union being in a manner dissolved, Ormond soon after left the
island, and delegated his authority to Clanricarde, who found affairs
so desperate as to admit of no remedy. The Irish were glad to embrace
banishment as a refuge, Above forty thousand men passed into foreign
service; and Cromwell, well pleased to free the island from enemies
who never could be cordially reconciled to the English, gave them full
liberty and leisure for their embarkation.
While Cromwell proceeded with such uninterrupted success in Ireland,
which in the space of nine months he had almost entirely subdued,
fortune was preparing for him a new scene of victory and triumph in
Scotland. Charles was at the Hague, when Sir Joseph Douglas brought him
intelligence, that he was proclaimed king by the Scottish parliament.
At the same time, Douglas informed him of the hard conditions annexed to
the proclamation, and extremely damped that joy which might arise from
his being recognized sovereign in one of his kingdoms. Charles too
considered, that those who pretended to acknowledge his title, were at
that very time in actual rebellion against his family, and would be sure
to intrust very little authority in his hands, and scarcely would afford
him personal liberty and security. As the prospect of affairs in Ireland
was at that time not unpromising, he intended rather to try his fortune
in that kingdom, from which he expected more dutiful submission and
obedience.
Meanwhile he found it expedient to depart from Holland. The people in
the United Provinces were much attached to his interests. Besides his
connection with the family of Orange, which was extremely beloved by the
populace, all men regarded with compassion his helpless condition, and
expressed the greatest abhorrence against the murder of his father;
a deed to which nothing, they thought, but the rage of fanaticism and
faction could have impelled the parliament. But though the public in
general bore great favor to the king, the states were uneasy at his
presence. They dreaded the parliament, so formidable by their power,
and so prosperous in all their enterprises. They apprehended the
most precipitate resolutions from men of such violent and haughty
dispositions. And after the murder of Dorislaus, they found it still
more necessary to satisfy the English commonwealth, by removing the king
to a distance from them.
{1650.} Dorislaus, though a native of Holland, had lived long in
England; and being employed as assistant to the high court of justice
which condemned the late king, he had risen to great credit and favor
with the ruling party. They sent him envoy to Holland; but no sooner had
he arrived at the Hague, than he was set upon by some royalists, chiefly
retainers to Montrose. They rushed into the room where he was sitting
with some company; dragged him from the table; put him to death as the
first victim to their murdered sovereign f very leisurely and peaceably
separated themselves; and though orders were issued by the magistrates
to arrest them, these were executed with such slowness and reluctance,
that the criminals had all of them the opportunity of making their
escape.
Charles, having passed some time at Paris, where no assistance was
given him, and even few civilities were paid him, made his retreat into
Jersey, where his authority was still acknowledged. Here Winram, laird
of Liberton, came to him as deputy from the committee of estates
in Scotland, and informed him of the conditions to which he must
necessarily submit before he could be admitted to the exercise of his
authority. Conditions more severe were never imposed by subjects upon
their sovereign; but as the affairs of Ireland began to decline, and the
king found it no longer safe to venture himself in that island, he
gave a civil answer to Winram, and desired commissioners to meet him at
Breda, in order to enter into a treaty with regard to these conditions.
The earls of Cassilis and Lothian, Lord Burley, the laird of Liberton,
and other commissioners, arrived at Breda; but without any power of
treating: the king must submit without reserve to the terms imposed upon
him. The terms were, that he should issue a proclamation, banishing from
court all excommunicated persons, that is, all those who, either under
Hamilton or Montrose, had ventured their lives for his family; that no
English subject who had served against the parliament, should be allowed
to approach him; that he should bind himself by his royal promise to
take the covenant; that he should ratify all acts of parliament by which
Presbyterian government, the directory of worship, the confession of
faith, and the catechism were established; and that in civil affairs he
should entirely conform himself to the direction of parliament, and
in ecclesiastical to that of the assembly. These proposals the
commissioners, after passing some time in sermons and prayers, in order
to express the more determined resolution, very solemnly delivered to
the king.
The king's friends were divided with regard to the part which he should
act in this critical conjuncture. Most of his English counsellors
dissuaded him from accepting conditions so disadvantageous and
dishonorable. They said, that the men who now governed Scotland were the
most furious and bigoted of that party which, notwithstanding his gentle
government, had first excited a rebellion against the late king; after
the most unlimited concessions, had renewed their rebellion, and stopped
the progress of his victories in England; and after he had intrusted his
person to them in his uttermost distress, had basely sold him, together
with their own honor, to his barbarous enemies: that they had as yet
shown no marks of repentance; and even in the terms which they now
proposed, displayed the same anti-monarchical principles, and the same
jealousy of their sovereign, by which they had ever been actuated: that
nothing could be more dishonorable, than that the king, in his first
enterprise, should sacrifice, merely for the empty name of royalty
those principles for which his father had died a martyr, and in which he
himself had been strictly educated: that by this hypocrisy he might lose
the royalists, who alone were sincerely attached to him; but never would
gain the Presbyterians, who were averse to his family and his cause, and
would ascribe his compliance merely to policy and necessity: that the
Scots had refused to give him any assurances of their intending to
restore him to the throne of England; and could they even be brought
to make such an attempt, it had sufficiently appeared, by the event
of Hamilton's engagement, how unequal their force was to so great an
enterprise: that on the first check which they should receive,
Argyle and his partisans would lay hold of the quickest expedient for
reconciling themselves to the English parliament, and would betray the
king, as they had done his father, into the hands of his enemies: and
that, however desperate the royal cause, it must still be regarded as
highly imprudent in the king to make a sacrifice of his honor, where the
sole purchase was to endanger his life or liberty.
The earl of Laneric, now duke of Hamilton, the earl of Lauderdale, and
others of that party who had been banished their country for the late
engagement, were then with the king; and being desirous of returning
home in his retinue, they joined the opinion of the young duke of
Buckingham, and earnestly pressed him to submit to the conditions
required of him. It was urged, that nothing would more gratify the
king's enemies than to see him fall into the snare laid for him, and by
so scrupulous a nicety, leave the possession of his dominions to those
who desired but a pretence for excluding him: that Argyle, not daring so
far to oppose the bent of the nation as to throw off all allegiance to
his sovereign, had embraced this expedient, by which he hoped to make
Charles dethrone himself, and refuse a kingdom which was offered him:
that it was not to be doubted but the same national spirit, assisted by
Hamilton and his party, would rise still higher in favor of their prince
after he had intrusted himself to their fidelity, and would much abate
the rigor of the conditions now imposed upon him: that whatever might
be the present intentions of the ruling party, they must unavoidably
be engaged in a war with England, and must accept the assistance of the
king's friends of all parties, in order to support themselves against a
power so much superior: that how much soever a steady, uniform conduct
might have been suitable to the advanced age and strict engagements
of the late king, no one would throw any blame on a young prince for
complying with conditions which necessity had extorted from him: that
even the rigor of those principles professed by his father, though with
some it had exalted his character, had been extremely prejudicial to his
interests; nor could any thing be more serviceable to the royal cause,
than to give all parties room to hope for more equal and more indulgent
maxims of government; and that where affairs were reduced to so
desperate a situation, dangers ought little to be regarded; and the
king's honor lay rather in showing some early symptoms of courage
and activity, than in choosing strictly a party among theological
controversies, with which, it might be supposed, he was as yet very
little acquainted.
These arguments, seconded by the advice of the queen mother and of the
prince of Orange, the king's brother-in-law, who both of them thought
it ridiculous to refuse a kingdom merely from regard to Episcopacy, had
great influence on Charles. But what chiefly determined him to comply,
was the account brought him of the fate of Montrose, who, with all
the circumstances of rage and contumely, had been put to death by his
zealous countrymen. Though in this instance the king saw more evidently
the furious spirit by which the Scots were actuated, he had now no
further resource, and was obliged to grant whatever was demanded of him.
Montrose, having laid down his arms at the command of the late king, had
retired into France, and, contrary to his natural disposition, had lived
for some time inactive at Paris. He there became acquainted with the
famous Cardinal de Retz, and that penetrating judge celebrates him in
his memoirs as one of those heroes, of whom there are no longer any
remains in the world, and who are only to be met with in Plutarch.
Desirous of improving his martial genius, he took a journey to Germany,
was caressed by the emperor, received the rank of mareschal, and
proposed to levy a regiment for the imperial service. While employed for
that purpose in the Low Countries, he heard of the tragical death of the
king; and at the same time received from his young master a renewal of
his commission of captain-general in Scotland.[*] His ardent and daring
spirit needed but this authority to put him in action. He gathered
followers in Holland and the north of Germany whom his great reputation
allured to him. The king of Denmark and duke of Holstein sent him some
small supply of money; the queen of Sweden furnished him with arms; the
prince of Orange with ships; and Montrose, hastening his enterprise,
lest the king's agreement with the Scots should make him revoke his
commission, set out for the Orkneys with about five hundred men, most of
them Germans.
* Burnet. Clarendon.
These were all the preparations which he could make against a kingdom,
settled in domestic peace, supported by a disciplined army, fully
apprised of his enterprise, and prepared against him. Some of his
retainers having told him of a prophecy, that "to him and him alone it
was reserved to restore the king's authority in all his dominions,"
he lent a willing ear to suggestions which, however ill grounded or
improbable, were so conformable to his own daring character.
He armed several of the inhabitants of the Orkneys, though an unwarlike
people, and carried them over with him to Caithness; hoping that the
general affection to the king's service, and the fame of his former
exploits, would make the Highlanders flock to his standard. But all men
were now harassed and fatigued with wars and disorders: many of
those who formerly adhered to him, had been severely punished by the
Covenanters: and no prospect of success was entertained in opposition
to so great a force as was drawn together against him. But however weak
Montrose's army, the memory of past events struck a great terror into
the committee of estates. They immediately ordered Lesley and Holborne
to march against him with an army of four thousand men. Strahan was
sent before with a body of cavalry to check his progress. He fell
unexpectedly on Montrose, who had no horse to bring him intelligence.
The royalists were put to flight; all of them either killed or taken
prisoners; and Montrose himself, having put on the disguise of a
peasant, was perfidiously delivered into the hands of his enemies by a
friend to whom he had intrusted his person.
All the insolence which success can produce in ungenerous minds, was
exercised by the Covenanters against Montrose, whom they so much hated
and so much dreaded. Theological antipathy further increased their
indignities towards a person, whom they regarded as impious on account
of the excommunication which had been pronounced against him. Lesley
led him about for several days in the same low habit under which he had
disguised himself. The vulgar, wherever he passed, were instigated to
reproach and vilify him. When he came to Edinburgh, every circumstance
of elaborate rage and insult was put in practice by order of the
parliament. At the gate of the city he was met by the magistrates, and
put into a new cart, purposely made with a high chair or bench, where he
wus placed, that the people might have a full view of him. He was bound
with a cord, drawn over his breast and shoulders, and fastened through
holes made in the cart. The hangman then took off the hat of the noble
prisoner, and rode himself before the cart in his livery, and with
his bonnet on; the other officers, who were taken prisoners with the
marquis, walking two and two before them.
The populace, more generous and humane, when they saw so mighty a change
of fortune in this great man, so lately their dread and terror, into
whose hands the magistrates, a few years before, had delivered on their
knees the keys of the city, were struck with compassion, and viewed him
with silent tears and admiration. The preachers next Sunday exclaimed
against this movement of rebel nature, as they termed it; and reproached
the people with their profane tenderness towards the capital enemy of
piety and religion.
When he was carried before the parliament, which was then sitting,
Loudon, the chancellor, in a violent declamation, reproached him with
the breach of the national covenant, which he had subscribed; his
rebellion against God, the king, and the kingdom; and the many horrible
murders, treasons, and impieties for which he was now to be brought
to condign punishment. Montrose, in his answer, maintained the same
superiority above his enemies, to which, by his fame and great actions,
as well as by the consciousness of a good cause, he was justly entitled.
He told the parliament, that since the king, as he was informed, had so
far avowed their authority as to enter into a treaty with them, he now
appeared uncovered before their tribunal: a respect which, while they
stood in open defiance to their sovereign, they would in vain have
required of him: that he acknowledged, with infinite shame and remorse,
the errors of his early conduct, when their plausible pretences had
seduced him to tread with them the paths of rebellion, and bear arms
against his prince and country: that his following services, he hoped,
had sufficiently testified his repentance; and his death would now
atone for that guilt, the only one with which he could justly reproach
himself. That in all his warlike enterprises he was warranted by that
commission which he had received from his and their master, against
whose lawful authority they had erected their standard: that to venture
his life for his sovereign was the least part of his merit: he had even
thrown down his arms in obedience to the sacred commands of the king;
and had resigned to them the victory, which, in defiance of all their
efforts, he was still enabled to dispute with them: that no blood had
ever been shed by him but in the field of battle; and many persons were
now in his eye, many now dared to pronounce sentence of death upon him,
whose life, forfeited by the laws of war, he had formerly saved from the
fury of the soldiers: that he was sorry to find no better testimony of
their return to allegiance than the murder of so faithful a subject, in
whose death the king's commission must be at once so highly injured and
affronted: that as to himself, they had in vain endeavored to vilify and
degrade him by all their studied indignities: the justice of his cause,
he knew, would ennoble any fortune; nor had he other affliction than
to see the authority of his prince, with which he was invested, treated
with so much ignominy: and that he now joyfully followed, by a like
unjust sentence, his late sovereign; and should be happy, if in his
future destiny he could follow him to the same blissful mansions, where
his piety and humane virtues had already, without doubt, secured him an
eternal recompense.
Montrose's sentence was next pronounced against him: "That he James
Graham," (for this was the only name they vouchsafed to give him,)
"should next day be carried to Edinburgh Cross, and there be hanged on
a gibbet, thirty feet high, for the space of three hours: then be taken
down, his head, he cut off upon a scaffold, and affixed to the prison:
his legs and arms be stuck up on the four chief towns of the kingdom:
his body be buried in the place appropriated for common malefactors;
except the church, upon his repentance, should take off his
excommunication."
The clergy, hoping that the terrors of immediate death had now given
them an advantage over their enemy, flocked about him, and insulted over
his fallen fortunes. They pronounced his damnation, and assured him that
the judgment which he was so soon to suffer, would prove but an easy
prologue to that which he must undergo hereafter. They next offered
to pray with him; but he was too well acquainted with those forms of
imprecation which they called prayers. "Lord, vouchsafe yet to touch
the obdurate heart of this proud, incorrigible sinner; this wicked,
perjured, traitorous, and profane person, who refuses to hearken to the
voice of thy church." Such were the petitions which he expected they
would, according to custom, offer up for him. He told them, that they
were a miserably deluded and deluding people; and would shortly bring
their country under the most insupportable servitude to which any nation
had ever been reduced. "For my part," added he, "I am much prouder to
have my head affixed to the place where it is sentenced to stand, than
to have my picture hang in the king's bed-chamber. So far from being
sorry that my quarters are to be sent to four cities of the kingdom,
I wish I had limbs enow to be dispersed into all the cities of
Christendom, there to remain as testimonies in favor of the cause for
which I suffer." This sentiment, that very evening, while in prison,
he threw into verse. The poem remains; a single monument of his heroic
spirit, and no despicable proof of his poetical genius.
Now was led forth, amidst the insults of his enemies, and the tears of
the people, this man of illustrious birth, and of the greatest renown in
the nation, to suffer, for his adhering to the laws of his country,
and the rights of his sovereign, the ignominious death destined to the
meanest malefactor. Every attempt which the insolence of the governing
party had made to subdue his spirit, had hitherto proved fruitless; they
made yet one effort more, in this last and melancholy scene, when all
enmity, arising from motives merely human, is commonly softened and
disarmed. The executioner brought that book which had been published in
elegant Latin, of his great military actions, and tied it with a cord
about his neck. Montrose smiled at this new instance of their malice. He
thanked them, however, for their officious zeal; and said, that he bore
this testimony of his bravery and loyalty with more pride than he had
ever worn the garter. Having asked whether they had any more indignities
to put upon him, and renewing some devout ejaculations, he patiently
endured the last act of the executioner.
Thus perished, in the thirty-eighth year of his age, the gallant marquis
of Montrose; the man whose military genius both by valor and conduct had
shone forth beyond any which, during these civil disorders, had
appeared in the three kingdoms. The finer arts, too, he had in his youth
successfully cultivated; and whatever was sublime, elegant, or noble
touched his great soul. Nor was he insensible to the pleasures either
of society or of love. Something, however, of the vast and unbounded
characterized his actions and deportment; and it was merely by an heroic
effort of duty, that he brought his mind, impatient of superiority, and
even of equality, to pay such unlimited submission to the will of his
sovereign.
The vengeance of the Covenanters was not satisfied with Montrose's
execution. Urrey, whose inconstancy now led him to take part with the
king, suffered about the same time: Spotiswood of Daersie, a youth of
eighteen, Sir Francis Hay of Dalgetie, and Colonel Sibbald, all of
them of birth and character, underwent a like fate. These were taken
prisoners with Montrose. The marquis of Huntley, about a year before,
had also fallen a victim to the severity of the Covenanters.
The past scene displays in a full light the barbarity of this
theological faction: the sequel will sufficiently display their
absurdity.
The king, in consequence of his agreement with the commissioners of
Scotland, set sail for that country; and being escorted by seven Dutch
ships of war, who were sent to guard the herring fishery, he arrived in
the Frith of Cromarty. Before he was permitted to land, he was required
to sign the covenant; and many sermons and lectures were made him,
exhorting him to persevere in that holy confederacy.[*] Hamilton,
Lauderdale, Dumfermling, and other noblemen of that party whom they
called engagers, were immediately separated from him, and obliged to
retire to their houses, where they lived in a private manner, without
trust or authority. None of his English friends, who had served his
father, were allowed to remain in the kingdom. The king himself found
that he was considered as a mere pageant of state, and that the few
remains of royalty which he possessed, served only to draw on him the
greater indignities. One of the quarters of Montrose, his faithful
servant, who had borne his commission, had been sent to Aberdeen,
and was still allowed to hang over the gates when he passed by that
place.[**]
* Sir Edward Walker's Historical Discourses, p. 159.
** Sir Edward Walker's Historical Discourses, p, 160.
The general assembly, and afterwards the committee of estates and the
army, who were entirely governed by the assembly, set forth a public
declaration, in which they protested, "that they did not espouse any
malignant quarrel or party, but fought merely on their former grounds or
principles; that they disclaimed all the sins and guilt of the king,
and of his house; nor would they own him or his interest, otherwise than
with a subordination to God, and so far as he owned and prosecuted the
cause of God, and acknowledged the sins of his house, and of his former
ways."[*]
The king, lying entirely at mercy, and having no assurance of life
or liberty further than was agreeable to the fancy of these austere
zealots, was constrained to embrace a measure which nothing but the
necessity of his affairs and his great youth and inexperience could
excuse. He issued a declaration, such as they required of him.[**] He
there gave thanks for the merciful dispensations of Providence, by which
he was recovered from the snare of evil counsel, had attained a full
persuasion of the righteousness of the covenant, and was induced to
cast himself and his interests wholly upon God. He desired to be deeply
humbled and afflicted in spirit, because of his father's following
wicked measures, opposing the covenant and the work of reformation,
and shedding the blood of God's people throughout all his dominions.
He lamented the idolatry of his mother, and the toleration of it in
his father's house; a matter of great offence, he said, to all the
Protestant churches, and a great provocation to him who is a jealous
God, visiting the sins of the father upon the children, He professed,
that he would have no enemies but the enemies of the covenant; and
that he detested all Popery, superstition, prelacy, heresy, schism, and
profaneness; and was resolved not to tolerate, much less to countenance,
any of them in any of his dominions. He declared that he should never
love or favor those who had so little conscience as to follow his
interests, in preference to the gospel and the kingdom of Jesus Christ.
And he expressed his hope, that whatever ill success his former guilt
might have drawn upon his cause, yet now, having obtained mercy to be on
God's side, and to acknowledge his own cause subordinate to that of God,
divine providence would crown his arms with victory.
* Sir Edward Walker's Historical Discourses, p. 166, 167.
** Sir Edward Walker's Historical Discourses, p. 170.
Still the Covenanters and the clergy were diffident of the king's
sincerity. The facility which he discovered in yielding whatever was
required of him, made them suspect, that he regarded all his concessions
merely as ridiculous farces, to which he must of necessity submit. They
had another trial prepared for him. Instead of the solemnity of his
coronation, which was delayed, they were resolved, that he should pass
through a public humiliation, and do penance before the whole
people. They sent him twelve articles of repentance, which he was
to acknowledge; and the king had agreed that he would submit to this
indignity. The various transgressions of his father and grandfather,
together with the idolatry of his mother, are again enumerated and
aggravated in these articles; and further declarations were insisted on,
that he sought the restoration of his rights, for the sole advancement
of religion, and in subordination to the kingdom of Christ.[*] In short,
having exalted the altar above the throne, and brought royalty under
their feet, the clergy were resolved to trample on it and vilify it, by
every instance of contumely which their present influence enabled them
to impose upon their unhappy prince.
Charles, in the mean time, found his authority entirely annihilated, as
well as his character degraded. He was consulted in no public measure.
He was not called to assist at any councils. His favor was sufficient to
discredit any pretender to office or advancement. All efforts which he
made to unite the opposite parties, increased the suspicion which the
Covenanters had entertained of him, as if he were not entirely their
own, Argyle, who, by subtleties and compliances, partly led and partly
was governed by this wild faction, still turned a deaf ear to all
advances which the king made to enter into confidence with him.
Malignants and engagers continued to be the objects of general hatred
and persecution; and whoever was obnoxious to the clergy, failed not to
have one or other of these epithets affixed to him. The fanaticism
which prevailed, being so full of sour and angry principles, and so
overcharged with various antipathies, had acquired a new object of
abhorrence: these were the sorcerers. So prevalent was the opinion of
witchcraft, that great numbers, accused of that crime, were burnt by
sentence of the magistrates throughout all parts of Scotland. In a
village near Berwick, which contained only fourteen houses, fourteen
persons were punished by fire;[**] and it became a science, every where
much studied and cultivated, to distinguish a true witch by proper
trials and symptoms.[***]
* Sir Edward Walker's Historical Discourses, p. 178.
** Whitlocke, p. 404, 408.
*** Whitlocke, p. 396, 418.
The advance of the English army under Cromwell was not able to appease
or soften the animosities among the parties in Scotland. The clergy were
still resolute to exclude all but their most zealous adherents. As soon
as the English parliament found that the treaty between the king and
the Scots would probably terminate in an accommodation, they made
preparations for a war, which, they saw, would in the end prove
inevitable. Cromwell, having broken the force and courage of the Irish,
was sent for; and he left the command of Ireland to Ireton, who governed
that kingdom in the character of deputy, and with vigilance and industry
persevered in the work of subduing and expelling the natives.